WHAT'S A NICE GIRL LIKE YOU...

by:  Raye
Feedback to:  summrbrez@yahoo.com

Copyright © 1999, Raye.



DISCLAIMER: Star Wars and all publicly recognisable characters, names and references, etc are the sole property of George Lucas, Lucasfilm Ltd, Lucasarts Inc and 20th Century Fox.  This fan fiction was created solely for entertainment purposes and no money was made from it.  Also, no copyright or trademark infringement was intended.  Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.  Any other characters, the storyline and the actual story are the property of the author.  Not to be archived without permission of the author(s).


It's been a slow week. Brea is more restless than usual since Duloni moved on. Men, they never stay around long. Just one of the setbacks in our line of work.

Looking at her sitting there across from me, I watch her slowly cross her legs as she scans the room. Her sable hair, her brilliant blue eyes, her long legs - everything a mirror of my own.

We are beautiful. It's not a conceited remark, just a fact. A fact that sometimes gets us farther in this galaxy, or any other, than our cunning. Brains and looks, a lethal combination, especially with the kind of life we lead.

It's warm in here, dark, close, and noisy. I watch as a bead of condensation rolls down the glass in front of me. I shouldn't drink as much as I do. It's hard not to when dirty little hole- in-the-wall joints like this cantina are my home half the time.

Brea leans forward and laying her hand on my arm gestures to the entrance and to the boy entering with two droids. In her low, honey-dipped voice she says, "This oughta be good, Senni."

The look in her eye scares me, because I know, like everything else about her, it's a reflection of myself. Some sweet little farm boy - doe-eyed and still wet behind the ears. We were like that once... a long time ago.


"Senni, come on!" A beautiful, doll-like young woman stands at the edge of the courtyard, the vermilion sky a dazzling frame for a perfect picture.

"I'm coming." A girl runs out from the large boulders looming behind a row of bland houses. She is identical to the other, down to the boots on her feet.

"You know we have to meet him before the transport leaves," Brea huffs.

[ How could I forget? Everything we've done in the past two weeks has led up to this moment. How could I forget? ]

"I know, I know."

"What were you doing back there anyway?"

[ I could tell you I was watching my last sunset on Kiffex, but you'd only make fun of me. We can be so similar, but sometimes I don't know who you are. Who I am. It's hard for me to tell the difference. ]

"Just sitting."

Brea snorts and throws up her hands. " 'Just sitting.' How can you be back there with those stupid rocks, 'just sitting,' when we're finally gonna get off of this dust bowl?"

[ Part of me will miss this "dust bowl" - how it used to be. Part of me will stay here in this "dust bowl" - how I used to be. ]

They had begun making their way hurriedly towards the trans- city shuttle when Brea stopped. "You're not having second thoughts, are you? After all we've done to get this opportunity."

[ All we've done. Have we created the perfect escape, or our own prison? One thing's for certain, we can't stay here. Not now. Not after__ ]

She sighs and responds flatly, "No, of course not."

"Senni, you can't lie to me, you know that."

[ But I could lie to that trader. And I could steal that guy's savings just with a smile. And I could watch in horror as that guard fell onto my knife. "It's just for looks," you'd said to me last night. ]

In a firm voice belying her trepidation Senni states, "We have to do this. Things will be different once we've left this place behind."

[ Different. Definitely different. ]


The sound of the Aqualish's blaster (and arm) hitting the floor jolts me back to the present. Well, the kid handled that well. Don't worry, you'll learn.

I reach out and grasp the cool glass and swiftly raise it to my lips, gulping the stinging liquid. I try to swallow the pain and the guilt, but like the alcohol, I don't know how long I can stomach it.

I turn my attention back to the boy who now sits with Solo. You've got a lot to learn about people like us and places like this. Human, Aqualish, Wookiee - it doesn't really matter, it all comes down to the basic four types: good, bad, good that can turn on you in an instant, and bad that can surprise you in the end.

I'd like to think I'm the latter. I know I'm not good, but maybe I'll surprise even myself... in the end.

For now, I've got to see a man about a heist.


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