An awakening

[MasScof]

The ration line snakes in a rigid series of turns, the weary prisoners standing in single file with shoulders hunched and heads hanging after the long day of toil on the high gravity planet. A piercing squeal instantly causes all of the tired beings to stand rigid and raise their arms or equivalent appendages. "Prisoner 76-01201114 step out to to the stun line." The commands are never repeated and they are rarely disobeyed. Surviving the following long day of hard labor is near impossible after the brutal punishments handed down from the Consortium Guards for even the mildest of infractions. A lone figure steps out of the queue, humanesque in appearance, his features obscured by the loose fitting work suits that all the prisoners are required to wear. He walks up to the beam line marking stun protocol and is immediately met by a squad of fully geared guards. "Prisoner 76-01201114, stun protocol suspended, step forward for biometric ident." The lone being steps forward three paces, the ever present area flood lights reflecting off his hairless scalp. He holds out his lean yet sculpted left arm as he maintains the vertical orientation of his right. The squad leader of the group steps near his outstretched hand and holds up a small electronic device. After a brief pause, the guard commander states "Ident confirmed, 76-01201114, Mas'Scof Gev. It's your lucky cycle horn head, the Royal Courts have graciously commuted your remaining sentence. I don't know why they would let scum like you loose back into the Galaxy, but it is not our place to question, only to obey."
"Where will I go, what am I to do", the Zabrak hoarsely asks after taking a few seconds to find his raspy voice.
"Not my problem poodoo stain. All I know is you're not welcome in Consortium Space and you will find yourself handling reactor waste on the first bulk freighter out of this sector to get back to imperial space or you'll find yourself right back in that portion line for the short remainder of your existence. Now get your mass into the hover transport before you leave Hapes with more bruises than you already have." Mas'Scof wearily trudges to the ladder leading up into the prisoner transport and clambers up. The repulsers whine as the transport gathers speed and the following dust cloud grows. The Zabrak takes in one last glance of his home for the last seven years and then flashes a predatory grin as he settles back into the hard seat and into his own thoughts.