The Neimoidian Jatz Singer

Posted on by shadowbarker

(Figg City Spaceport, Gerrenthum)

I thought it was me she was thinking of, but glitterstim was her true love

I lost the lot and she said see you later

Hopped off to Ryloth on a freighter

And left me alone, so so so, alone

Lou Arnos’s pupils narrowed as his fanfar-esque voice drifted through the crowded cantina mingling with plumes of smoke. If anyone had actually been paying attention to the song and the singer, they’d have seen that it sprang from the depths of his soul. Half of the establishment’s customers probably assumed that Lou was a Duros, the rest probably didn’t even consider his provenance.

Just over ten years earlier, Lou, was an officer on a Lucrehulk-class Droid Control Ship. Mid battle, numbed from the routine duties of monitoring the control computers, as vulture droid starships fought republic ships, his mind would drift away to smokey clubs like this one, where his voice would enchant the audience. He’d make a such a name for himself on the Jatz circuit that people would come from lightyears around to hear him sing. His songs of longing to be free of Neimoidian expectations of financial success, would bring many to tears and Twi’lek girls would compete to be his.

Tonight, as he sang his heart out to a disinterested crowd of pirates, gamblers, assassins, spice dealers, bounty hunters and smugglers, he longed to be back on that ship. He was free of Neimoidian cultural norms, but he was nobody now. He was just another indentured servant, working to pay an un-payable debt back to the crime-lord who ran this joint, much like the Twi’lek girls by the bar, who would only be his if the price was right, and he didn’t have that kind of credit.

Half way through another torch song, he just stopped singing. No one in the cantina seemed to notice. Everyone was doing deals, making money, settling scores. It was just like the Trade Federation, but less organised. He thought of just getting up and leaving, to see how far he’d get, but that thought only lasted seconds. The droid standing guard outside the door would notice. It was programmed for such eventualities. It was probably the only being in the sector who knew he existed. It would catch him in an instant, and even this lousy life was better than the spice mines of Kessel, or desiccating in an alleyway.

He let his mind slip away, to another smokey club where the customers hung on his every note, and sang.

Under the twin suns of Tatooine, between Bespin’s clouds,

As long as it takes me, I will find you. 

From the towers of Coruscant, to the snow fields of Hoth, 

If it takes me my whole life, I will find you

 

Made in Coronet

Posted on by shadowbarker

(Coronet City, Gold Beach Sector)

Corran-Rafin Lidevan, olive grey bantha hair cloth, double brested tunic, fab. That belt, black nerf leather, so fine it could have been crafted by Alif. The pants, flared at the hips, tapered off at the knee into black low heel boots, sublime. The cap, well, take it or leave it; It’s authoritative.

Jinxy leaned back against the bar, smiling at her plan. A write up on the style of naval uniforms in the Corellia Times would be revolutionary, it would cement her status as the foremost fashion critic in the Corellian sector, if not all of the core systems. Who knew what went on beyond there? Who cared?

And, of course, the article would get Corran-Rafin’s attention too. She’d have her droid get pics of him from every angle. She’d make him a celeb, more so than he was now, not just amongst the upper class. She gazed accross the crowded bewjewelled function room and through the wall sized window at the golden sands and the waves lapping at the shore.

There was no point making a move tonight. Just to make him notice would be enough. There would be too many rivals throwing themselves at him. Just play it cool. She didn’t have to worry about the others.

Madseur was already running interference on Ulis Waso, feigning interest in her “creations” – hideous jewellry made  of carrion spat beaks and wonat teeth. Her dress was awful too. Madseur would never really show an interest, but his jawline and his inheritance would distract her long enough.

Her photo droid would take care of Toffo Georgillo. Anytime she got too close it was primed to make barbed comments about her attire, carefully selected from Jinxy’s own portfolio of articles and reviews. At any rate, her attempts to convince him of her political expertise would bore him to tears.

She picked up her flute of purple bubly from the bar. Time to mingle. She glided accross the room, letting her poise, her imperial pink gown, cut just below the thighs and her volumnous brown shoulder length bob do the talking. She’d exchange pleasantries with everyone, even new money like Vector Kinshros and at some point she’d get a few moments with Lt. Lidevan. It would just be long enough to smile, tell him about her article and subtly let him know that her father was a commander in the Navy. Then the job would be done. He’d be enchanted.

And the best part of landing herself this Imperial naval officer? His royal inheritance? Well, it would be nice to have access to that credit account. His looks and the svelt body he hid under that tunic? Well, that was a bonus. But the best part was that he’d be away on duty for the best part of the year and she could play with whoever she wanted. She looked over at Madseur, raised a glass and winked.

 

 

 

Low Life

Posted on by shadowbarker

(Coruscant Underworld, Slum District G17)

We don’t age so gracefully down here, eh? *cough.

What?

I can see it in your eyes, what you’re thinking. *cough No starlight, bad air, life’s hard.

Rol Kinnard laughed a little inside. The young idealist was scanning his withered face, trying to figure out what species he was.

I’m human, he said slowly, with a grin, in the manner you might explain something to a child.

The youngster recoiled a little, before attempting to correct his poise and look nonchalent.

I knew that. It’s just, my eyes aren’t accustomed to the darkness, and the neon lights.  

He didn’t know. Rol wanted to laugh at his embarrassment, but he supressed the urge.

So what’s an upper doing all the way down here? *cough Not here for the scenery anyway *chuckle *cough *cough

The young man’s face altered slightly, as if new found pride had banished the embarrassment so recently held.

I’ve come to live here. I want to experience hardship, to understand the plight of the underclass. I’m, er, a student of sociology. 

Rol grinned. He had this lad pegged from the moment he spotted him coming from out of the noodle shop across the way. Student dropout, something in the arts or social sciences, wealthy family taken down a peg or two by the fall of the republic, but not this far down. This kid thinks he’s going to change the galaxy, Rol thought.

Listen my friend, I admire your idealism, but you have no place here. You’re not going to organise the lacking to fight the empire, there won’t be a statue of you in this plaza in years to come, you are not our saviour.

The young man looked shocked. Rol continued.

And another thing, *cough, if I could single you out as a rabble rouser, you can be sure the underworld police will. And they won’t be offering advice. *cough

The rebel composed himself. His face showed a mixture of pity and resentment. Rol braced himself for ‘the speech’.

Sir, you can not be content with the misery you live in, you people, you slum dwellers, you are all wallowing in the lot that has been bestowed upon you by the empire. You are weak in spirit, but strong in number. If you unite, if you rise up, you will be unstoppable. I will stand with you, together we can fight for freedom. And if I get arrested or killed by the security force, so be it, I’m willing to give my life for the cause. 

Rol sighed and rolled his eyes.

Child, you can go back to your old life whenever you want, so long as you aren’t caught first. *cough You can go back to your university, your father will give you as many credits as you need, and eventually, you can get a job working for the empire and have a nice life. To us, down here, that would be freedom. But we’ll never get that, no matter who is in power, freedom won’t exist for us. It was no different under the republic. 

The young rebel was about to deliver his reply when Rol raised a finger. Outside the noodle bar, two Underworld Police operatives were talking to some snitch who was pointing over in their direction.

Kid, you better get out of here, the police *cough

The rebel nodded, stuck his head down and began to move off in the opposite direction to the police.

And kid, take my advice. Go back where you came from, you have no friends here.