Hello readers!
Looks like I was able to do it! YAY!
Happy Fedora Friday! Please enjoy the next installment of Star Wars: A Smuggler's Story.
-Ardoa88
Skiff's head was going to explode if he had to listen to another senator grumble on about not being given adequate floor time. He was beginning to doubt that Master Gallia's training was helping him hone his mind sense.
'Sit in on the Senate council session tonight,' Master Gallia said, 'attempt to gain insight to their thoughts before they speak. If what they say coincides with the sense you gathered, you will know the attempt was a success.'
'But Master,' Skiff frowned, 'reading a Senator's' mind… isn't that... ah, discouraged?'
Master Gallia shook her head, 'Senators make for good practice subjects, so long as you don't try to influence their decisions you will have broken no law; for tonight, try to read their emotions. Did a decision upset them, are their thoughts in conflict with other diplomats? Senators lack the mental defense we Jedi train to maintain, they are also unable to use the force- so any practicing you do will go undetected. Most importantly,' the Master smiled, 'no one can understand the mind of a Senator.'
The last bit of advice had held true, throughout the entire meeting he hadn't understood a single word of what they were talking about- mostly because they never talked about the main topic; instead choosing to bicker about minor details such as speaking time and proper political etiquette. Even now, after the session had ended, their overpowering impressions of annoyance and agitation riddled the apprentice's mind.
He decided it was time to return to the Temple when a sudden wave of cold, calculating thought washed over the padawan. Skiff looked up as a tall bearded man in grey robes approached a young female diplomat. His back was to the apprentice so Skiff couldn't make out who the new arrival was. Judging by his posture- nose in the air, shoulders rolled back, and a confident stance- the man had his own personal agenda with the younger representative.
"So you're the stand-in who had the halls all abuzz." The man said, his voice smooth and silky. "My regard to Senator Bruss, I hope he enjoys a speedy recovery- not that you did a bad job in there. You were quite impressive for your first official council."
The younger representative looked up in confusion, an amused smile on her lips, "But I didn't say anything, Senator Roland."
Skiff nearly groaned aloud. Not this prat. Forget devious and scheming, Senator Roland was infamous even among the padawans as a bootlicker. No doubt he had the same thing in mind now, attempting to flatter the poor girl with praise until she would be in his good graces.
"Ah," Roland tipped his head, "You'll come to learn that, sometimes, saying nothing is much more effective than speaking."
"I'll keep it in mind." Skiff could sense Roland's panicked distress at the dismissive comment. The padawan was surprised that the girl didn't giggle and blush at the praise, as most new diplomats would've. The dull throbbing at the base of his skull told Skiff that this conversation wasn't going as planned for the older man.
"Is- Is this your first trip to Coruscant, Representative Anansi?" The bearded man asked, stumbling in his hurry to reclaim her attention.
"Yes." The girl's responses were getting shorter and shorter but Roland didn't seem to notice, continuing with enthusiasm.
"Then you would honor me if you allowed me to treat you to some of the finer delicacies this planet has to offer."
"I wasn't sent here to go on a spending spree, Senator." Skiff chocked down a snicker. So Anansi was her name? The young representative was impressive, definitely a far cry from the hopefuls who typically sat in on council sessions. "But please, feel free to spend your money on whatever trinkets and bobbles you want."
Anansi was able to keep the trace of annoyance out of her voice, although the gleam in her eye should've clued the older man in that she wasn't interested. It was quite an entertaining exchange, but it still gave Skiff a massive headache.
"Consider it payed for," Roland waved away the concern, ushering the girl towards the exit. "I'm intrigued to know what your views are on inter-rim conflicts, I've heard that a particularly nefarious bunch has been exploiting the Deltian system. I've been working on a relief policy, you see, nothing much, but every little bit helps, I'm sure Bruss would agree..."
The Senator's voice faded in the distance, his ego-inflated sense of success becoming less prominent in the padawan' mind with every step. Even as they left, Skiff could see Anansi's gait was rigid with displeasure. She'd make a terrible diplomat if she kept that up. First lesson of politics was it's who you know that elevates one's status. With a groan, Skiff sat back; maybe now he could finally get some peace and-
"Hey! That guy stole my wallet!"
Skiff jerked up looking around quickly only to find he was alone in the hallway. His head throbbed. That voice had sounded like... But that was impossible, they'd just left-
"I had everything under control!"
With a wince, the young apprentice raised a hand to his head, closing his eyes as a series of images flashed through his brain.
An ominous gaze watched the two senators as they exited the bar... "You're gonna get us killed if you pull a stunt like that!" The young diplomat hissed... A dark skinned alien pulled the sheet off of a large object... Looking down the barrel of a gun Skiff saw an orange light flare from within...
With a gasp, Skiff was yanked out of the vision, his heart beating rapidly and his breathing unsteady. The inexperienced padawan knew of the Force Sight, the ability to catch glimpses of future or past events, but he'd never experienced one before. Recalling the flickers of memory, Skiff only found more questions than answers. One thing, however, was abundantly clear.
Those diplomats were in danger.
I was never a fan of bars. Sure, I used them, they were a good source of information and- in my profession- it was difficult not to go into one every other day or two. Cantina's weren't all bad and, aside from the smell, they could come in handy for a job; the packed, alien filled rooms provided easy cover for transactions, and the continual flow of alcohol kept people's tongues loose. Still, I could never feel truly at ease knowing that anyone could have a gun trained at my back. Out of habit, my right hand lingered by my waist; but there was no weapon for me to draw comfort from.
Diplomats don't carry pistols in the senate district.
Baxter may have been right, but that didn't mean I had to like it. I felt naked without them, as if a big target was painted on my forehead, informing the world of my defenselessness. Fortunately, there was a bigger target in the room: unfortunately, he was sitting next to me.
"So then he says, 'Roland, how'd you come up with that figure, you didn't even inspect the damages?' Then I," The Senator drained the rest of his wine, spilling a bit on his coat. "Get this- I said, '1,000 credits for you, 1,000 for me, and we get the Rhodian to fix the spaceport.' He shook my hand on the spot for that deal. On the spot! Ha!"
He lifted the glass to his lips and frowned at the fact that it was now empty.
I offered an empty smile, looking around the taproom. And of all the bars on the planet he had to pick this one? The name of our current residence was The Topped Tankard, a well-known local tap whose goods and services were the best match of quality for cost, be it alcohol or other… less-than-lawful matters. The lighting was perfect, a deep blue-purple hue, bright enough to read the menu but dark enough for shadows to linger on the face. My eyes trailed a few of the waiters and serving girls: The latter were a bit clumsy in their task, constantly stumbling or bumping into patrons. There were many bows and 'Sorry Sir's circulating as they went- but they never dropped whatever they were holding, be it plates, empty glasses or recently refilled ones.
Their pickpocketing skills were flawless. A credit or two here, a decicreed there, taking a little from each occupant- save those in the corner booths. Those seats were permanently reserved; leased to merchants and entrepreneurs who paid a small fee to the owner. In return, they and their customers were to be left undisturbed, allowing the pickpockets to focus on their main source of revenue: drunkards. With alcohol muddling the mind, the servers could take greater risks, and if caught- have a better chance of bluffing their way out. Although, the waitresses rarely got caught: they were masters of their craft.
They had to be to work for the Barkeep. A portion of their lifting would be given to him as homage for allowing them to work and practice the skill openly. The Barkeep was fair though, a solid 70-30 split for all the waitresses: with the larger portion naturally going to the Barkeep himself. That was all I'd ever known him by, and all I probably ever would. My gaze swept to the wide shouldered Besalik as he laughed, pouring another drink for a clearly drunk patron. His other three arms were busy wiping down the counter space and cleaning dishes.
A newcomer in light brown robes sat a few seats down to my left, calling over the Barkeep to order a Fauxjito. I raised an eyebrow, it wasn't often you saw someone go to a bar to get a non-alcoholic brew. The kid was young, maybe my age, but down here, the law was loosely followed. I fingered my own glass of Abafar Ale, swirling around it's murky contents; unlike my companion, my glass was only half empty. For a moment, I wondered if the Barkeep would recognize me after all these years- probably not, I'd grown up a lot since then.
"What's a lifeform like you doing in a dump like this?"
I looked up. The idiot who'd opened his mouth was leaning against the bar, a thick leather jacket slung across his shoulder. His hair, tinged teal in the light, was gelled back and a thin mustache showed beneath a long nose. The human's eyes were a warm brown, but his gaze betrayed him. It was the look of a mandalorian whose armor was just stolen.
At my silence he flashed an easy smile, "C'mon darl'n, I'm sorry if I startled you. I didn't mean nothin' by it. I'm Darwin. Me and some of my friends were about to go visit the top level, watch the stars for a bit, get some fresh air, ya' know? I was wonderin' if you'd like to join us."
His breath stank of ale.
At my continued lack of reaction his lips twitched, "Don't be like that darl'n, you have any idea how hard it was to get an access like that? And we're good comp'ny. More pleasurable than this fella' here at least." He gestured to the drunken diplomat who'd taken to talking with the unconscious customer.
My eyes followed for a brief moment only to snap back around as he took my wrist- gripping it hard. The light danced in his eyes, a purple flame that wouldn't be quelled. "We insist."
I put my hand on his, smiling dangerously. "I'll have to pass, I don't fraternize with strangers."
And with that I twisted his pinky back, causing the suave young man to howl like a little girl. More than a few heads turned in our direction as I let go, the man wringing out his hand for a moment before looking up at me. The malice in his eyes finally shone through in his demeanor as he gripped my shoulder hard. I grinned at the implication.
I always enjoyed a good bar fight.
"You little bitch," He hissed, pulling out an old switchblade, "I'll-"
"-Leave my bar? Sounds like a great plan." We both looked over at the Barkeep who raised his eyebrows in question, "Unless you want to have a few holes in your chest before you go. First shot's on me."
The ominous click of a gun from under the bar solidified Darwin's answer; he swallowed hard, "Of course not," he said, letting go of me, "No harm done, right buddy? Just a friendly disagreement between pals."
My gaze didn't soften until the door swung shut behind him.
The Barkeep looked around the unusually quiet room, "A round on the house!" He declared, waving all four of his arms in a dramatic flair. The taproom cheered, soon returning to it's normal noisy demeanor.
"Thank you sir." I said politely, brushing the bangs out of my eyes.
"Sir?" The Barkeep laughed so loud his stomach rumbled from the exertion. "Since when have you ever called me sir? Ahahahaa! You crack me up, Half-Pint."
I rolled my eyes at the nickname, remembering when I'd first chosen it. It wasn't long after I arrived on Coruscant, I didn't have money or a job or an ounce of an idea of what to do with my life. So I stole. Worked pretty well until I tried to steal in the Topped Tankard cantina- Ooh was that a mistake. I thought for sure the Barkeep would turn me in but instead, he asked me what my name was. At the time, he was having a half-pint special on jawa juice, and in my frantic state I blurted out the first thing I could think of.
"Half-Pint?" The Barkeep raised an eyebrow, "Well then, Half-Pint, tell ya what. Come back when you're good at lifting creds and I'll offer you a job."
The Barkeep was good on his word, and half a year later I was working for him.
"So what've you been up to, Half-Pint? Them's some real fancy robes you're sportin'."
His question returned me to the present. Before answering, I looked over at my companion, but the senator was deeply engrossed in his conversation with the sleeping alien. "I'm on a job, Barkeep. One that requires... discretion."
"Ah," the Barkeep nodded in understanding, lowering his voice. "Who's your employer?"
"Nada'la."
The glass he'd been cleaning clattered to the counter.
"That witch? Half-Pint, have you lost it?" He whispered fiercely. "Nothing ends well with her."
"I know what I'm doing Barkeep," I assured, taking a sip of the ale. It tasted the way Baxter's cleaning fluid smelled. In other words, the Barkeep had improved his recipe since my last visit.
With a skeptical look, the Barkeep picked up the fallen cup, inspecting a small spider crack that had formed on the base. "I hope you do Half-Pint, I hope you do."
Fin! Thank for reading.
Final things.
First, to stormrunner74: Glad you liked part 1 ;) And I'm happy to see the second half kept you interested as well. Thank you so much for the continued reviews! They always make me smile ^_^
Next, to Random person: If you've made it this far you will see that Anakin and Padme were introduced last chapter ;) and I made a cameo with Luminara in a previous chapter as well. I'm sorry if you were expecting more cannons up until now- as I've mentioned before this story was written without the mindset of posting to fanfiction so the pre-written chapters I have posted thus far wont have many callbacks to the shows/books/movies. HOWEVER! Going forwards I do intend to write in some of those cannons (as seen last chapter) as I am now writing for fanfiction. I only ask that you please continue to read :) Thank you for the review, I look forwards to your continued support ^_^
That's all for today. I hope you all have a wonderful weekend (mine will be spent at a National Guard Drill- aka death by pushups _)! Anyone seen 'Finding Dory' yet? I'm gonna go see it Sunday- NO SPOILERS! Shhhh. ;)
As always I encourage you to review- please please please pleasepleasepleasePLEASE review!
-Ardoa88