For many of my people, life on Pantora has been difficult. The planet was hit pretty hard during the Clone Wars, nearly fell apart to infighting under the reign of the Empire, and now...well...things are slowly getting better. For me, though, things have never been truly difficult. I was born to one of the noble families that make up the Assembly, and so I grew up in the lap of relative luxury. That said, things weren't always easy, either. Navigating the intricacies of Pantoran politics is a dangerous life, especially as a child.

Remember I talked about infighting? Yeah, under the Empire, there were three factions on Pantora. Those who wanted to submit to the Empire, those who wanted to resist and maintain Pantoran sovereignty, and the third faction. The third faction wanted to open Pantora up to less savory elements, embracing slavers and spice runners and criminal scum from neighboring systems to maintain economic stability. After the Emperor's death, the first two groups came together, in a way, but the divide still remains. The criminal element, which had never held much sway, was driven out entirely. Or so we thought.

As it turns out, though they publicly denounced it, many of the nobles secretly embraced the criminal trade. A secret black market had formed, hidden under our noses for decades. And as much as it pains me to admit, my own family was involved, particularly in the slave trade. My father and uncle partook in the trade for untold years. It wasn't until a Jedi from the New Order was called to Pantora to investigate the trade that I found out about my family's duplicity. My father and uncle were discovered, and arrested. My family was shamed. We were not stripped of our nobility, but our name had become tainted.

For me, though, it was too much to bear. The amount of pain inflicted on the innocent beings being bought and sold, the countless lives upended….it broke something in me. I blamed my uncle, convinced myself he had corrupted my father, somehow. As he was being led away in binders, I grabbed one of the guards’ blasters and shot him in the back. I was given a slap on the wrist, let off on a plea deal. I still look back in shame on that moment of weakness.

What followed was….disappointing. The other noble families made a show of denouncing the slave and spice trades, and rooting it out once and for all. It was a sham, though. The only criminals “brought to justice” were low-ranking thugs and fall men. The Assembly was more concerned with their image and influence than actually fixing the problem. I fought, I toiled, I tried to make amends for my family’s wrongdoing and force the Assembly to do the same. It didn’t work. Eventually, it finally sunk in that all I was doing was further damaging my family’s reputation.

Remembering the words of the Jedi who had come to investigate, I chartered a shuttle to the Yavin system, intent on joining the New Jedi Order. I may not have been able to change Pantora, but at least with the order, I feel I can make a difference in the galaxy. I will never again allow such suffering to persist, if I can help it.