Introduction: The Pauper (Open)

[Sebastian Crusse]

Coronet, Corellia
10:24 PM - Skylark Bar

Enter the young pauper dressed in local garb, the smell of scotch and moon-sugar behind him. This young man, Sebastian Crusse, nicknamed Cruise by his friends due to his love of wandering the streets and alley-ways had a look of fire in his eyes. True he had visited several other bars but none of them he could remember. His pockets full of credits, his eyes spotted the young female bartender here at the Skylark.

"Oh miss!..." He called out to her as he stumbled his way across the floor to the nearest barstool. "One bourbon, one scotch, and one beer." He sat down with a plunk. "Any brand is fine."

"Er... yes sir. Coming right up." She knew he was drunk. Hell, everyone knew but no one was about to tell him to stop. He had been known for being rather violent when he was drunk. Fights would somehow start with someone saying... whatever and then the next thing you knew he was stuck behind a force field in an Imperial detention facility.

[Sebastian Crusse]

The drinks came in a hurry and she lined them all up in a row in front of him. As soon as the last one was put down, he put down his credits... too much though but he was too drunk to care. Besides, it wasn't his money. It was some jackoff''s who thought he would try to steal his shoes. Gave him a lesson and made him pay for his precious time.

"Thanks, miss." he began to drink up. First the scotch, then the bourbon, then finally the beer to wash it all down. All Corellia's finest according to his tastebuds.

"Well! If it isn't Crusse!" A blarring familiar voice is heard from behind.

[Smidget]

Living the life of a street rat isn't as glamorous as it once seemed to be so many years ago. Back then, "Smidget" could con her way out of just about anything; from avoiding arrest to getting free passage among a couple of the finer cruise ships in the galaxy.

Born in the lower levels of Coruscant to teenage parents trying to make their way in the world without the aid of their parents, they came to realize that their daughter deserved a much better life than the meager one they were providing.

Swaddled in a thin receiving blanket with a note attached, her mother left her on the steps of Coruscant General hospital with hopes that they would find her a good and loving home.

Fat chance.

After being found by one of the nurses and taken to the nursery, doctors were able to determine her age to be three months during an extensive examination to make sure that the swaddled infant was healthy. Three days later, Cassandra (as the nurses had come to calling her) was handed over to the Little Hearts Orphanage, where she remained until her thirteenth birthday.

Quiet, reserved, resourceful and fed up with living amongst the other unwanted children of Coruscant, "Smidget" took off; stowing herself away in the cargohold of a freighter.

There's no need for reverie. No need to mention the things she did in order to survive on the streets of whatever world she happened to end up on - yes, she stowed away many-a-times. Those tales are for another time and another place.

~~~~

At present, "Smidget" is around twenty years of age, give or take a few months, and glancing towards the drunken man from the corner of her eye when one of the waiter's ambles over to the stool she's seated upon.

"Where are you heading off to now? You'll be back this way again, won't you?" , he asks of her.

Eavesdroppers would easily surmize one of two things; either these two are friends or siblings; or this is her last night here. The latter of the two is correct summation.

"I don't know, Gizmo." Cassandra (Yes, that is Smidget's real name) nicknamed the waiter. His real name is something like ... like .. well, she can't quite recall what his real name is. It's been atleast three years since she's ever called him by it. No matter. The two had become the best of friends over the past three years, close enough to consider each other a sibling; even if they aren't related by blood at all.

'Gizmo' gets a real kick out of taking things part, figuring out how each part works then putting them back together. Over the past two years he's gotten real good at putting things he takes apart back together so that it almost resembles what it originally started out as. Almost.

"I'll follow you; you know I will. I can't let you go off on your own and have all the fun without me." A nudge of his elbow against her arm accompanied by a wink and his off-kilter smile.

Cassandra just gives 'Gizmo' a dry look. Their co-worker sets all three drinks down for Sebastian and Cassie looks over towards him again while he polishes off each one in rapid succession.

"You'd think that you were dying of thirst out in the barren-waste of the Tattooine desert. Might want to consider slowing down there.", Cassandra pipes up to Sebastian, motioning slightly with the tips of her first two fingers by raising them from the counter a hair's breath.

[Sebastian Crusse]

Sebastian could remember the voice and soon placed the name to the voice before swiftly turning around. "Borja! You son of a shoe salesman! How have you been? It's been too long." before the big plump man could even start a sentence Crusse continued. "You never call, you never write. What's wrong? Found a better smuggler for your damn stuff!" He turned back to the bar and was about to drink from an empty mug. "Miss, if you would be so kind, bring me the same order. This time make it a tripple shot." Just then the girl sitting across the way mused something to him.

"You'd think that you were dying of thirst out in the barren-waste of the Tattooine desert. Might want to consider slowing down there." He smiled as the words sunk in his mind. Borja sat down in the seat next to him.

"Shh, not so loud. I'm sorry, business hasn't been the same with these new imperial laws. Also word is the NR has been cracking down on the business as well. We can't opperate out in the open like we used to..." Sebastian was raising one of his new drinks towards his new muse as if in a toast. He then finished the first drink. Bourbon, of course.

[Smidget]

The drunk's 'new muse' blinks once, slowly, as she watches him down yet another stiff drink. With a smirk and a shake of her head, "Smidget" turns back to 'Gizmo' and rolls her eyes.

"You know, Gizzy; people just don't listen when given good, sound advice."

Her co-worker and friend snorts a laugh while trying (and failing) to hide the wide, cocky smile lifting the right corner of his mouth. After a faked cough and clearing of his throat, he stands; arching his back some while rubbing against his tailbone - working a few kinks out of his sore muscles.

"Yeah, well ... people like that tend to think they know everything, ya' know? Anyways ..., he raps against the countertop with his knuckles a few times and winks playfully to her.

... let me ditch the apron and punch out. My sister will send my check to me whenever I tell her to. I'm going with you."

Just as Cassie lifts her hand and begins to stutter her refusal to have him tagging along, 'Gizmo' trots off to the employee break room, bunching up the apron and tossing it onto the floor behind the bar.

She sighs, slapping her palm against her forehead as she shakes her head once more; mumbling the whole time. She was about to get up and leave when she overheard the drunk's companion mention something about smuggling, business and Imperial laws.

"Uh, I don't mean to interrupt but its really not that hard to ... hmm .. how shall we say ..."

She pauses long enough to choose the right words.

"Well, to 'bend the laws' to work in your favor. So to speak."

Another dry look is given to Sebastian.

"Seriously. Getting drunk won't be of any use to you - especially if your buddy here is worried about Imperial laws and the NR."

A quick smirky smile flashes over her face and she pats Sebastian on the shoulder. Just then, 'Gizmo' returns and grabs "Smidget" by the hand, leading her towards the front door.

"Come on. We can stop at the bank, close out my account and grab a few things from my apartment, then take off. Wherever the winds take us!"

"Whoa, Gizzy! What's this we? You're not coming with me."

'Gizmo' looks hurt and disappointed, slowly letting go of Cassie's hand.

"But ... but ..", he stammers.

"No, Giz. I have to keep moving, it's my life. Atleast until I can figure out just how to get those bozo's off my back. Permanently."

Seeing just how hurt her best friend truly is, Cassie can only sigh and rub at her brow with the tips of her fingers as the other hand is set against her hip.

"Fine, Giz. But if you get killed, don't blame me. You're doing this of your own free will and at your own risk. Got it?"

'Gizmo' nodded emphatically, unable to contain the smile that stretches from ear to ear.

"All right. Hold up a minute, though. Sharese is getting a few things for me from the back. After I get that, we'll go."

So, Cassie and 'Gizmo' stand just inside of the main aisle; him bouncing on the balls of his feet excitedly and "Smidget" wearing a hole in the floor with her nervous pacing.

[Sebastian Crusse]

The drinking man looked over to the girl and her friend. The girl who had been eavesdropping on their conversation. "Well, miss. I really appreciate you worrying about us, more so me than him." Sebastian pauses and points at Borja with his thumb. "I don't really get drunk. Well, drunk enough to not be cognizant anyway. It just feels good, you know. The alcohol coursing through your body. Warming you to the soul." He then smiles at the couple as her friend, the waiter, joins her. Shortly after he takes a sip of his scotch.

"You really shouldn't be listening in. It's rude." Borja says nervously.

"Did you ever happen to think that maybe you were speaking too loud, Borja? Would you like to pay me to think for you? Because you haven't paid me for my other services." He finishes his scotch and toasts to the young lady. The fat man seems aggravated but then quickly calms down.

"Well, Borja you tracked me down here to talk to me. I assume you want it to be a private conversation so finish my beer for me and let's go somewhere private."

The pauper, now excited by his new prospect for work, shoves the beer into Borja's chubby hands then winks at the waitress and the young woman standing in the main aisle as he gets up.

[Smidget]

"Smidget", speaking quietly with her best friend, sideglances over towards the pauper and his loud-mouth friend on occasion, blinking once in question as she thinks she just saw the pauper wink at her.

"Heh, looks like you have an admirer, Cassie." , 'Gizmo' teases as he nudges her arm with his elbow. Cassandra just shifts an evil look back to her friend, warning him silently that if he ever teases her with things like that again - she'll kill him.

"And in response to your rhetorical question, Mister ... No. I do not know how good it feels or supposedly feels to be drunk. I'm not a drinker. But, if you say it feels good, then it must be so."

This was spoken to Sebastian.

Cautious eyes glance over to Borja and narrow slightly.

"I wasn't eavesdropping you blowhard. If you speak any louder, I'm sure the sandfleas on the hindquarters of a bantha on Tattooine will hear you."

'Gizmo', knowing that when Smidget gets either; A.) arguementative or, B.) fiesty - isn't easily settled down, takes her wrist in his hand lightly and gives it a light yet insistant tug.

"Hey, Smidget. Dollface. Cass, come on. Let's go. No need to jump all over the guys' case, eh?"

Cassandra holds her stone-cold gaze on Borja for another minute then looks to Gizmo, jerking her wrist free from his hand.

"People like them have no business smuggling. It's not that hard of a job to do if you -actually- know how to do it."

Another sideglance over to the two then she looks back to Gizmo.

"You're right. Let's just get out of here. I can't stay on the planet another night or they'll catch up to me for sure."

[Sebastian Crusse]

Sebastian stumbles slightly but uses his "friend" as a balance to keep him erect. They both proceed to walk out the door which they had both used but 10 minutes ago."Well then, lets go back to my ship."

Coronet, Corellia
10:45 PM - Coronet Interspacial Docks

"Well, like I was saying in the bar before we were so rudely interrupted," he clears his throat. "I have a few errands that I need you to run." Borja tries to cross his leg up but can't due to his... er... mass problem. The man sitting in front is, of course, our hero (or anti-hero) Crusse.

Crusse scoffs and then begins to speak in a sarcastic manner. "Oh? Well now that's nice. And do you intend to pay me for these 'errands' as you so eloquently put it? You still haven't paid me for the last bit of work I did for you."

Suddenly Borja seems nervous and begins to reach into his coat. "Aye, don't worry about that. I have your money." just before Crusse reached for his trusty sidearm, Borja pulls out a bunch of credits. He couldn't trust anyone these days. He had been double crossed before, but they didn't call him "cruise" for nothing. Somehow he had always found a way to get out of the most dire situations unharmed, at least physically. "The first errand involves a bit of the usual, transport and delivery confirmation. That kind of stuff. Nothing too hard, well besides the added surveliance by you-know-who. The second is..."

They continued their conversation through the night. First business and then just reminiscing. But what of this second mission?...

[Smidget]

Coronet, Corellia
10:55 PM - Coronet Interspacial Docks

"Sorry Miss, but without the proper papers, we cannot allow you to proceed any further."

"Oh this is ridiculous! These travel visas aren't more than six months old! Since when does six months equal a one year expiration date on these?!"

So much for not drawing attention at the space docks as her tone rises with indignation.

"Ma'am. If you'll just come with us, we'll get everything all worked out."

Cassie's eyes narrow, darting between the two security guards, the tiny hairs at the nape of her neck prickling on end.

"No, that's uh ... that's ok. You know, now that I think about it, I left my other information in my purse at home. I'll uh, just go back there and get it."

The two guards sideglance to one another then step forwards towards Cassandra, both extending an arm to grasp her by the elbows.

"Ohh this can't be good. See ya!"

Smidget spins on her heels and jumps over an empty gravcart, losing her balance when landing on the other side.

*SNAP*, a drawn, hissed breath passes between her gritted teeth as she sprains her ankle a good one. However, not wanting to get nabbed by the two guards, Cassandra staggers to her feet and quickly limps into the crowd; losing the two guards.

Seeing a ship that appears to be atleast getting ready to depart, she hobbles over and scampers up the ramp, ducking into the main narrow corridor and finding a small alcove just wide enough to allow her slender frame to fit snug inside.

The racing of her heart sounds loud to her own ears, but not loud enough to completely drown out the sound of two voices that seem somewhat familiar to her.

A few more words caught here and there, then she recalls just where it is that she first heard those voices...

Back at the bar.

The smuggler and his buddy who's afraid of the Imps.

"Terrific." , She mutters under her breath.

However, the choice between getting stuck here for the moment as opposed to dealing with security guards ...

Well, let's just say that being stuck is more appealing.

For now.

[Sebastian Crusse]

"Well, Borja. I'll get right to work on it." Crusse quickly stands up and "helps" Borja out of his seat and starts to pull him out the entryway."Remember, be careful! No one must see you..."

SNAP!...

The hatch closes abrupty on the fat man's surprised face. "Sigh... Does he have to remind me all the time," Sebastian whines. "Well now, it's off to Coruscant for the pick up." Sebastian spins around excitedly. It had been awhile since a task like this had come up. Or was it more of a mission? He didn't care. Spinning on his heel, he turns around to find the girl from the Skylark hiding in between 2 crates full of supplies.

"Huh? How did you get in here? There goes for not being seen." he smiles just happy to have a woman onboard his little freighter.

[Smidget]

From the position she's tucked into, Smidget lifts her head slowly; while at the same time, her dark eyes roll upwards until coming into direct contact with Seb's. By the looks of the expression on her face, she is clearly not amused.

"Dabbling with the illegal side of smuggling, I see."

She quirps back. Keeping her sprained ankle lifted inches above the floor, she scoots out of her temporary hiding area and presses her palm against the nearest wall for added support.

"You really shouldn't smile, you know. Makes you look like a serial killer."

A snotty wrinkle of her nose then she glances around from where she stands.

"Ayup. Man, you really want to be boarded by the Imperials, don't you."

This was stated, not asked. Finished with a brief examination of the immediate area, her fingernails are drummed against the wall as she looks back to Sebastian; as if expecting a response.

[Sebastian Crusse]

With the grin still on his face Seb leans back on his right foot. "Beggin' your pardon, m'lady, but if I was a serial killer or in the middle of smuggling anything you would already be dead." he says coyly. "If you had taken the time to read the labels, then you would know those are supplies, savvy?"

Our wimsical protagonist steps towards her and notes that something is off about her ankle. Being a gentleman, (not to mention wanting to get some action), he immediately opens the box beside her. "Sit back down, you don't want to stand on that." he orates, the smile gone from his face.

He pulls from the box a first aid kit, and asks "Mind if I try to mend that for you?" thinking that she might be suspiscious of him, even though it was his ship she was stowing away on.

[Smidget]

"Yeah, I read the labels. But you need to think like an Imp. Do you think that they would just strut over, read the label and believe that is what is really inside?"

As Seb steps towards her, Cassandra scoots one quick step and a limp away, narrowing her eyes at him. Watching closely as he pulls out the first aid kit, then eyeing him even closer when he offers to tend to her ankle, she shoots him a warning glare (one that would say 'try anything, and I'll kill ya) as she sits down.

"Where's the ship going?", she asks; watching every move he makes with scrutiny.

[Sebastian Crusse]

"Coruscant, but I don't transport people." he states. His hands busy removing her boot so he could start patching her leg with a splint. "Hmm, soft..." Crusse muses as his hands casually dance along the side of her leg, cleaning up the area. A few minutes pass as he continues to dress the wound. Her semll begins to intoxicate him and soon he finds himself more curious about her.

"So, where are you headed... more importantly how did you find yourself on my ship? he queries, half expecting her not to answer.

[Smidget]

"Yeah? Well, guess what .. you're transporting a person now, buddy."

As she finishes stating that, leaving no room for a rebuttal, she swiftly kicks Seb square in the chin with the heel of her good foot; the expression on her face never changes.

"Try that or anything else on me again, and I promise ... your manifest will include one dead body. YOURS!"

Standing abruptly, Cassandra tests the make-shift splint haphazzardly bound around her ankle; her brows furrowed deeply and her eyes narrowed dangerously, focused on Sebastian.

"And to make matters worse for you, I'd make sure to kill you slowly and painfully by eviscerating your guts using nothing but a spoon!"

Her eyes narrow more, to mere slits, before she takes a breath and calms herself down a bit. Warily, her eyes drift away from Sebastian as she turns slowly in place, examining the immediate area of the ship.

"Commenor is on the way. That's where I need to get to and you're going to take me there."

Finished looking around, she crosses her arms beneath her chest and looks to Sebastian once more just waiting to hear what he has to say about that.