When I was still me, I had the name Lorna Kees. When I looked into the mirror in the morning, I saw my face and knew who I was. The muddy green eyes staring back at me might have been disillusioned and sad, but they had been an integral part of who I am -- who I had been once, back when I was still Lorna Kees.
When I stand up now and look at the face in the mirror, my short brown hair seems so strange to me, as if it belongs to somebody else. The eyes staring back at me are full of questions.
Who am I?
Lorna Kees died not long ago -- disintegrated by the minions of Black Sun. And to think that Boba Fett almost had me then. I don't think I could have run -- not for long, anyway, not with such a bounty on my head. Well, almost doesn't count. But maybe I had better start at the beginning -- start when I was still me.
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When I was still me, I worked as an accountant at a small branch office of the Coruscant Ledger Bank. I can't say it was an especially interesting job, or that I had always wanted to do this kind of work, but it was where I ended up. And up it was from where I had started. Unlike my mother, I had managed to avoid getting pregnant early, being left by the father of the children, and living off welfare and nocturnal visitors.
I didn't want to end up like that. I had decided early that my life was to be completely different -- completely normal, if I had any say in it. So I had worked hard in school, received on-the-job training at the first place that hired me, and still worked at my desk happily every day. I had escaped of my mother's fate, and, being a good daughter, I even sent her some of my money, so she didn't have to welcome visitors at night anymore.
There were only two things I had to tick off my list fore achieving complete normality: a pet, and a guy to date. Since I couldn't buy the latter, I decided to get the pet first. It would have to be small and able to live in a cage, since I didn't have all that much time and space. And fluffy -- I definitely wanted fluffy.
So I found myself in a small pet shop, adoring little brown fur-balls called 'dengas' that did all the cute things sweet little fur-balls were supposed to do.
"Lovely, aren't they?"
I looked up. While I had been staring at the dengas like a mesmerized fool, I had missed the young man approach me. There was nothing eye-catching about him as he stood in simple brown clothes, his head crowned by a mop of unruly brown hair. He showed a small gap between his front teeth as he smiled at me.
"Do you want to get you some dengas?" he asked.
I nodded, looking from the small animals to him and back. "I want something small enough to fit into a cage, but big enough to play with," I admitted, tapping the transparisteel with my index finger.
"They are perfect for that," the stranger agreed. "But don't ever get just one. They are very social."
I looked at him again. "Do you know much about dengas?" I wanted to know.
"I breed them," he replied with a smile. "And sometimes I have a look around at what the other sellers have to offer. Would you like my hand or my card?" he asked with a wink, extending his hand at the same time. "Kestrel Ardens."
His hand was warm, his grip firm, and he immediately began to talk about dengas again. I found that I rather liked him. He told me that the dengas sold here were a bit too old to buy, especially if I wanted to tame them. It would be much easier, if they were younger, and…
… and it didn't surprise me much that we ended up in a small tapcafe together. Kestrel's knowledge about dengas was boundless. While I was slowly sipping my stim-caf, he talked about raising them, taming them, medicating and training them. I only had to nod and every now and then and utter sounds of interest. It was such a pleasing and easy conversation.
"If you want," Kestrel said suddenly, "I can give you the address of a friend, he builds the cages for me -- very good at it and with reasonable prices, too." He smiled, but the question in his eyes seemed to be a different one than that he just asked. "If you measure the space in your flat where you want to keep them, he'll build the cage with the most convenient shape with biggest volume."
I smiled back at him, and looked into my empty cup feeling a bit uncertain. I looked back at Kestrel and the almost pleading gleam in his eyes, and decided that I would rather like to see him again, dengas or no.
"That would be nice," I replied, a bit angry with myself for not being able to find something to replace that horrible commonplace with. Knowing I was blushing I asked "Would it be better if you came along?"
It was; and additionally, it was a perfect excuse for exchanging our comm data. I felt my cheeks flush as I told him the numbers, half wondering half hoping I'd now get the man before I got pets.
On the way home I felt like whistling, or skipping, but I didn't. Nothing could be done about my broad grin though.
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I managed to get a date with him at the very same weekend. Amazed at my own boldness, I had asked him to come over Saturday afternoon and bring a measuring tape. And after the call I spent every free minute cleaning, tidying and worrying that I had not been thorough enough. So much, that I almost forgot to take a shower myself.
When it finally rang, I had gone from worrying about each piece of furniture and decoration to worrying about several hair styles, none, too much, or too little make up and had just begun to worry about the content of my fridge. I rushed to the door, stopped and took a deep breath. Straightening my hair and clothes with a quick gesture I closed my eyes and exhaled. 'Just appear normal,' I told myself.
I yanked the door open and beamed at Kestrel. "Hello. Come in. Did you have any problems finding it?" My mouth began to work on automatic, trying its best to keep my mind from spinning. I already dreaded the moment my brain caught up on the chatter.
But right then, he did not deem to mind. He shook my hand firmly, a soft pull in his direction telling me that he would rather a different greeting, but didn't dare. I ushered him into the living room and pointed at the corner next to the holoscreen. I had removed the shelves that had mainly contained data cards and a collection of shoulder-claps figurines. I didn't think I'd ever get the chance to wear one of those anyway.
While he inspected the walls and floor, I tried not to flutter around like a mad hen. I tried to get my bearings to normal. "Would you like something to drink?"
He looked from his small scanner to me and smiled. His eyes seemed to sparkle, but that might just have been a trick of the light. They were light grey. "If it does not make too much trouble. Any kind of soft drink would be nice."
I almost bolted to the fridge, but remembered my good manner just in time to stop myself. "No trouble at all," I assured him. "I'll be back in a second."
A few moments later, I balanced two glasses and a bottle of sparkling sweetwater on a tray back into the room. Kestrel was typing measurements into his pad. When he saw me enter he waved me to him.
"How far into the room would you want it to protrude?" He showed the approximate measurements with his arms and I tried to concentrate of the amount of space it would take from the room.
"Can it be larger on top?" I wanted to know. "Then the cage could -"
"They will gnaw a lot, and you would have the debris all over the living room," Kestrel interjected with a smile.
I blushed and shrugged helplessly. "I guess, I didn't think." I looked at the corner and tried to appear intelligent for a change. "A little more than the length of my arm would be perfect. Otherwise it'd look too much like a foreign body."
I put my back to the wall an arms length away from the other wall and then put my hand next to my shoulder. Keeping a finger on the point I extracted myself and suddenly thought that it must have looked ridiculous. "Like about here?"
Kestrel only smiled and marked the spot with a bit of black colour. "That will be enough space for at least five dengas," he said smiling. "I would advise to put in an extra floor to separate the top of cage. That way you can keep them close until they are tame and come of their own account."
He took his pad to the couch and, after sitting down, typed some more calculations. I followed him sheepishly, sitting down next to him uncomfortably. He didn't seem to notice. To keep myself busy I poured two glasses of sweetwater and sipped on mine.
Finally he came to an end with his notes and turned to me. "This should be all you need." He gave me a datacard. "The measurements, the separating floor, house and toys included." He smiled.
Our hands touched, when I took the card, and I could feel myself shake a little. I only wished I knew the right procedures for a case like this, and before my bumbling mouth took over, too. Which was wishful thinking.
"Thank you, this is so nice of you." I heard myself say. And before I could stop myself, "I hope it was not taking to much of your time-"
Fortunately, Kestrel interrupted me. "No need to apologise. I enjoyed doing it. And I liked having an excuse to show up here."
He smiled and my heart began to flutter. So I was not alone with my sentiments, which was good. Still I needed to express them in a way that would not scare him away. Which was difficult.
"So, do you want to visit my friend now, or would you rather go to a holoflick with me?"
What a stupid question.
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As it turned out, I had to go to his friend alone. Kestrel had a strange job. His boss called him just whenever, and Kestrel would have to run errands or make deliveries. But the pay was good, he said, and usually he had all the time in the world. Usually.
Well, at least he had informed me in time and I had not stood at the corner of the block like ordered and not collected. Instead I stood in my hall for endless moments wondering whether to go, or just cancel the meeting. In the end I decided that I should be my own person and able to do things like that without back-up. We did have an appointment, and his friend would understand. I hoped.
He did. Sigur Simmons was as nice as Kestrel, but completely different. An explosion of red hair grew on his head, which he seemed to try to smooth with his hands a lot, but to no avail. He was not much taller than me and very thin. Wiry and tough, probably because he did so much construction work. When he shook my hand, I could feel the calluses on his hand, and his grip felt, as if it would break my hand.
But he was friendly from the start on. "Silly bugger," he admonished Kestrel. "I told him a hundred times to drop that job and get something reliable. You know what he told me? That he doesn't need reliable, since he had no commitments." Sigur snorted. "I hope that this will teach him."
"It's not much of a commitment," I told him.
But he only winked, slapped me on the back and led me into his workshop.
I had never before been in a place that smelled of wood so strongly. On a world where woods were not to be found and every log had to be transgalactically imported, wood was a luxury. Most furniture was made of cheaper duraplas or steel. I had made a point of buying a wooden table for my living room, it was my own proof for how well off I was.
Sigur's workshop didn't look as if it ever saw anything but wood. Flakes of it covered the ground, huge beams leaned against one wall and all kinds of boards were stacked neatly in long rows of shelves. I had no idea wood could be so colourful, either. Beneath all shades of brown, black and ochre there were greys, greens and even a few reds and blues. You could have made a rainbow from that wood.
I must have stared, because Sigur gave me a tour of the shelves. "Most of them are not that expensive," he explained. "The really rare stuff I keep locked up, no need to invite theft."
He let me feel the textures of the different woods and for a while I had completely forgotten, why I had come.
"Kestrel has measured a cage for my living room," I said groping for the datacard in my pockets.
"He told me about that," Sigur chuckled. "In very many words. And I already have the right stuff for you."
"Wood?" I asked incredulous. "But they will gnaw it all to pieces."
Now he laughed outright. "There is wood much harder than their teeth," he assured me. "That is the advantage if you can choose from different planets."
I followed him back into the work area and her showed me small samples of wood. They were incredibly hard, even if I had bitten them, my teeth would not have left a mark. I was sure that they were expensive. Maybe Kestrel had not thought of that when he had sent me here.
Longingly, I turned a piece of dark red-brown wood in my hands. Certainly, it would look so beautiful, it even matched the highlight of my living room walls, it would be so perfect with the light ochre wallpaper, and it felt so good, not to mention that the dengas would be so much happier in a cage made of something natural…
I sighed. "I don't think I can afford it."
"Don't worry, it's not that expensive. What really costs is the installation, but I will make you a special price there. Otherwise Kestrel might just kill me. " He winked.
"I'm not sure if I can accept that," I objected.
"You rather have me terminated by Kestrel?" Sigur was mock shocked. "You are a hard woman, Miss Kees." And he pouted so exaggeratedly that I had to laugh.
"Okay, I'll take it. But only if you promise to make a fair price - for both sides."
Before I could go on, he grabbed my hand and shook it vigorously. I was amazed I didn't bounce up and down with the movement.
"Deal! I will come, oh, about three weeks from now to set it up."
And that was it. Too surprised to protest, I was moved out of the shop and sat in the next transport home, blinking my eyes rapidly. This was all going a little too fast.
