I guess there was a drought happening around that time in the outer Outer Rim, because the trees all around our humble homestead were withered and dying, their branches turning to dust. The grass was so dry, it crunched underneath your feet. And the air was murky and thick, pressing down on you from the moment you woke up to yet another excruciatingly dull morning.

YOUNG APHRA:

Why did you bring me here? I hate it.

LONA APHRA:

It’s home now, Little Boop. You’ll learn to love it. And we’ll be safe here.

APHRA (narration):

Hmph. How did my mother not know me at all? That just made me hate it more.

And for the record: She was wrong. It was not safe. Remember the “almost dying” thing?

It happened on a day like any other—because every day on Arbiflux was exactly the same. I was minding my own business, counting all those amazing dust motes…when raiders came.

LONA APHRA:

No!

As Lona screams, we hear the sounds of blasterfire.

YOUNG APHRA:

Mom…?

APHRA (narration):

I remember the sounds of blasterfire. The chatterplants screeching, trying to warn us.

I remember my mother’s arm being shot clean off.

LONA APHRA:

Chelli… run!

YOUNG APHRA:

But…Mama…

LONA APHRA:

Now! I’ll…I’ll be right behind you…take my blaster…

APHRA (narration):

I also remember that for one small, shameful moment…my primary emotion wasn’t fear.

It was…excitement. Yes, that same excitement I felt when I leapt into the fiery pit of the homicidal Geonosian queen, when I tripped the sensor while liberating the Triple-Zero Matrix…when Darth Vader offered me his hand.

Because here on this most backwater of planets, this “safe” little homestead…something was finally happening.

I didn’t live in that surge of excitement, though. My instincts took over and I followed Mom’s advice: I ran.

Young Aphra’s footfalls and heavy breathing overtake the sounds of blasterfire.

APHRA (narration):

I ran through the dried-up trees of that backward burg…and so far that I actually found the part of the forest that was green, lush, beautiful. If only my mother had let me explore that part. If only she hadn’t been so obsessed with keeping me “safe.”

She managed to follow me for part of it, stumbling behind. Yelling at me not to turn around, not to look back.

But she was losing blood so fast…her arm…

This is where I learned: Never look behind you.

When she finally collapsed…well, I did turn. I did look.

I saw her die.

And then I turned back and shot at those raiders with all my might.

YOUNG APHRA:

Get back!

Young Aphra fires on the raiders.

APHRA (narration):