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Sihobeon doesn’t remember her childhood on Balmorra. She only remembered her last day on the planet. Her father had angered the wrong Imperial and her entire family had to flee. Her father planned on going to Rendili, he had a cousin there. They never made it.

Mandalorians captured their transport ship. A random pirate captain also boarded the ship, took one look at Sihobeon, five years old, tiny, large green eyes made larger by how pale her skin was, freckles across her nose and chin, long dark brown hair, and decided that she was the exact kind of slave a Sith on Dromund Kaas needed. Sihobeon was pried away from her mother and father by the pirate himself. She watched over the man’s shoulder, unflinchingly, dry eyes as the Mandalorians killed her entire family.
Sihobeon remembers being treated fairly by the pirate captain. She remembered he gave her a stuffed kath hound, tucked her into bed and promised her that her life with the Sith wouldn’t be so bad. The Sith he was selling her to was a nice older lady, more into keeping antiques safe than hurting people. That the old Sith enjoyed pretty things and that Sihobeon was a pretty thing. Sihobeon remembered the pirate’s Republic accent, his voice pleasantly raspy, his kind brown eyes that sparkled when he tucked her in at night. His anger at the Mandalorians he was traveling with when they tried to brand her a slave with the other passengers.

“She won’t sell if she’s branded!” He had his wrist wrapped around a Mandalorian’s arm, staying the brand. “Lord Teaw will not buy a marred slave! She likes them pretty and in original condition.”

“Really?” The Mandalorian leader’s voice wasn’t as pleasant. It frightened Sihobeon. “And how much will this Lord Teaw pay for that slip of a girl?”

“Six million credits.” The pirate ignored the whistles of disbelief. “She likes them young. They train better the younger they are.”

“Fine,” the Mandalorian leader coughed out. “But you keep an eye on her. I can’t guarantee she’ll be safe if you aren’t with her.”

The pirate didn’t say anything; he scooped up Sihobeon and carried her back to his room. He sat her on the bed and gave her the stuffed kath hound back.

Sihobeon pressed her little face into the stuffed kath hound, and tried unsuccessfully to stop her sobs.

“Hey,” the pirate pulled the stuffed animal away and scooped her up in his arms again, placing her on his lap, rubbing her back while she cried all over his shirt. “It’s ok, doll. I’m not going to let them hurt you.”

Sihobeon remembered how he kissed the top of her head and stroked her hair making soothing noises.

“What’s your name, doll? Huh?” He asked, tilting her face up. “You gotta have a name.”

“Sihobeon.” Sihobeon was proud of herself for her voice not trembling.

“Sihobeon, that’s a pretty name for a little doll like you.” He smiled, his eyes sparkling, the corner crinkling in good humor. “I’m Nico. And I won’t let anything happen to you, alright doll?”

Sihobeon nodded.

“Good.” Nico hugged her. Sihobeon remembered how he smelt of blaster oil. “Now, Sihobeon, let’s talk about what’s going to happen with you get to Dromund Kaas.”