SW:CES:NC:Warat Distombe

Since the fall of the Empire, there are many how have known freedom like never before, bounty unparalleled, a new chance for a better life. Many slave races have seen freedom in recent times, and many among them Twi’leks. Often should such individuals be free, they turn to prostitution or thievery, but with the help of the Rebellion, now the New Republic, many have found lives as merchants, politicians, or even something greater! You, Warat Distombe, are not among the fortunate.
You were born on Itlbaan-12, a temperate-tropical planet in the Itlbaan System, which until recently was in the Unmapped Regions, but now is classified as on the very edge of the Outer Rim. It’s a small settlement made by the Empire, who have been learning to become self-sufficient, without this “New Republic.” The bastards don’t even pass by every now and again. Itlbaan is on its own. And you are too.
You were born to a pink Twi’lek named Gida Distombe, who you loved with all your heart. Your mother was your life, your heart, and your soul. That is, until she died of an unknown disease and left you on your own. Then you had no one to protect you from the people you kept you both imprisoned: scientists who poked and prodded at you endlessly. Why? Why you? What’s so special about you? Why did you have to suffer from such a young age? And for that matter, why did these scientists seem to rule the town? Why?
However, shortly after you turned 8, the Empire fell. You didn’t know what that meant until you turned 9, but it was important enough they tried to hide it from the settlers they taxed, and when they found out, they rose up against the monsters and killed them. You and some other children were taken in by various groups of people who earned power and promised you freedom and anything else you wanted. Oh, how naive you were. In reality, they wanted you because you’re a Lethan: apparently, you’re rare or something and your lekku made you even rarer; you had four instead of two. They locked you in a new cell, where they would tie you down, and ravage you, with no regard for your own desires. Why? Why you? Why did it have to be you? Why did your mother have to leave you with these monsters? Why? WHY?!
Not long before you turned 10, something in you snapped and you broke yourself out. But you made sure every single one of those bastards never left the place they held you. You had to fight for some of them, but you didn’t care, they’re gone, and that’s all that matters. Now you’re on your own, with no one to look out for but yourself. You’ve lived in fear your whole life, which made you angry at your powerlessness, and now you hate the world. Even these simple people look at you differently, like you’re a monster or something. Why? You don’t care, you’re beyond the point you have the capacity to care. You don’t need them! You look out for yourself!

This is not an easy life you’ve chosen, in fact, it’s quite a hard life. But great things often come from places of tragedy, and you know, in the recesses of your mind, there must be something about you besides your appearance that is special. May the Force by with you, Warat Distombe.
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