Broken Walls (Walessa)


Where do I begin?

I’ve finally made it to Viscara. The collectors won’t be able to find me here.

I told Father to split from me. It would be easier to travel independent of each other, rather than as a pair. Too easily identifyable. Especially with my issues.

I never asked for trouble. While we didn’t live in a palace of splendors, I kept quiet and took any punches that came my way. Stay silent, stay safe.

What a load of bantha dirt.

I was taking a walk, after spending hours in Father’s shop. I needed air - I won’t say fresh air, given the district - and I needed to restock on food. Discreet defensive weaponry may pay for the shop, but it would take some haggling to turn our credits into something to fill our bellies.

I just wish I hadn’t chosen right then to be stupid. I should have ignored my stomach rumbles.

The roar of the lower districts was buffering out the buzz of late night “racers”. Idiots who threw together whatever junk they could find to race down the streets. As the pitch increased, I saw a girl - young and relatively clean, so obviously new and having recently fallen on hard times - in the street, carrying some groceries. Like an idiot.

I ran to get her out of the way. And it cost me.

The agony of having my legs mutilated by shrapnel. The helplessness of lying in the streets. The fire in my blood assumably dulled some of it, but that didn’t save me.

Next thing I knew, Father was coldly standing above me, working on the table further down. I saw the stains on his face, and I knew.

It was hard to gain control of the shoddy prototype legs. They never quite worked right, twisting inexplicably at times. Over time, I’ve been able to modify them, but not as of late.

After all, once I start working on them, I’m a stranded duck.

I need some time in a safe place to fix myself. Even my battery packs are shorting from rust and general poor maintenance.

I suppose I should be thankful that only my legs were taken. I can still make a living with my arms. Though a bedwarmer would have been far cushier.

I can never escape that fateful day. But, perhaps, I can find a way forward here.


If you haven’t already, get in touch with a DM for your XP reward.


XP Bonus has been given.