Exiled
Ugh.
Where am I?
Opening my eyes makes me acutely aware of a few things. First of all, I'm extremely hung over, the throbbing pain is made all the worse by the flashing lights as well as the all too loud music that makes the floor of the cantina shake. Second, the place is not familiar.
Behind me the dance floor is packed, lights shooting across the foggy room as a live band of various aliens ply their trade in a corner. Next to them a wall-wide window open up to the view of space. A space station?
The place is filled with barely dressed twi'lek dancers dancing with a host of darkly uniformed men. They're not republic uniforms thought, good. To my right and left other uniformed men sit along the bar, to my surprise they keep at least a chair away from me on each side, despite clearly cramped for space.
Perhaps it's my looks? I know I haven't showered in a while and that I've had a rough couple of....um...years? Still, I'm not an ugly girl and despite not wanting attention it's a little...
It returns to me.
Gasping I feel as if the ground beneath me opens up even as something heavy presses down on my shoulders. I'm at a precipice and there seems to be a world on my back, trying to push me down into darkness and nothingness.
"Yo! Little lady!" Looking up I see the bartender, a dark skinned man in a stained white shirt, squint at me. I can't help but notice how he looks away when I try to meet his gaze. "You want a refill again?"
I glance at the glass laying forgotten on the counter. There was barely anything left of the juma juice there, much to my dismay. Grabbing it I empty it with a quick swig and drop it back to the counter. How many times have I done that today? What day was it anyway? I nod, too tired to speak. Do I even have any credits to pay for it?
The bartender didn't seem worried about that as he picks the glass, neither am I, it doesn't really matter after all.
The abyss is just at the edge, I can feel it nipping at my heels, sense it at the edge of my vision. What's in it I don't know, I don't want to know, so far I have been able to elude it. How long have I been running away?
"Jedi..."
The whisper makes me snap up from my thoughts. My head turns left and right, trying to discern who spoke. There is none close enough to have whispered the word though...as it hadn't been so many times before. The men close by shoot me worried looks, as if fearing something from the little shape huddled against the bar.
I smile, feeling exhaustion tugging at my conciousness. They fear me? Perhaps they can smell my...taint, fearing to catch some sort of disease. "Jedi..." I spit the word out, the word clumsily leaving lips unused to speaking.
"Sorry? You said something?" The bartender ask as he places a fresh glass in front of me.
I shake my head, wanting as little interaction as possible, as I have for ages now. The man seems more then willing to oblige and quickly heads to another customer, I can smell his fear...
Perhaps I am sick?
The force...it's gone. I don't miss it though, the memory of it too painful to recollect. The mere thought of it...I can't breathe.
I should find out where I am, what credits I might have, maybe even what I'm doing here.
I don't though. There is no point, no reason to try. All there is to do is to drink, to keep the darkness away, keep the weight on my shoulders from crushing me as it rightly should. I'm not really sure why I keep struggling against the inevitable...perhaps by some misplaced sense of hope?
No, there is no hope, no reasons, no answers...not even the force. There is only the will to go on.
They did the only thing they could, really, they did. I'm a sickness, a rare disease, something rotting away from the inside. I can feel it, something gripping my heart, trying to drag me into a black hole of...I don't even know what it is. The council, I despise them...but I also understand them. I understand why they fear me...I think.
"Jedi..."
The whisper once again, almost insistent.
I smile at the glass, emptying half of it in a single movement. No, I'm no jedi...
I'm an exile.