Just to Feel Alive

[Arya Ravenwing]

Bottom of a Bottle
Brand New

Been scared and lonely
I've asked myself
Is something wrong with you
My girlfriend told me
I need some time alone to deal with issues

Something makes me carry on
It's difficult to understand
What I always wanna find

I do it for the drugs
I do it just to feel alive
I do it for the love
That I get from the bottom
Of a bottle

You always call me
And ask me how I make it throught the day
I'm always fallin
I guess it's just god's way of
Making me big

Something makes me carry on
It's difficult to understand
What I always wanna find

I do it for the drugs
I do it just to feel alive

I do it for the love
That I get from the bottom
Of a bottle

I do it for the drugs
I do it just to feel alive
I do it for the love
That I get from the bottom
Of a bottle

And I,
I wonder why I try
And I,
Wonder why I bother
And I,
I wonder why I cry
Why I,
I go through all this trouble

I do it for the drugs
I do it just to feel alive
I do it for the love
That I get from the bottom
Of a bottle

I do it for the drugs
I do it just to feel alive
I do it for the love
That I get from the bottom
Of a bottle


The face in the mirror had changed with the years that had gone by. The hair framing it was still jet black, chin length, and straight as a pin, but the eyes had lines in the corners that hadn't been there before. Thirty-something had crept up on her, and everything had changed.

And nothing had changed.

There was still the Job. Whatever job it happened to be at the time. Long fingers fiddled with the medallion that usually rested beneath her shirt, looking closely at it for the first time in months. Embossed into the golden circle was a raven's head, and other runes and symbols that she didn't understand.

Ever since she'd been thrown out of a multi-story building by Hunter, things had been changing in Arya Ravenwing's life, but one thing hadn't changed. The Job, and her need for it.

Whatever was at the end of the rainbow for her, whatever it was that she'd find if she researched the medallion... she had a feeling that she would leave it all behind because of the pull of the Job. The feel of the ship underneath her, danger on the horizon, and money in her pocket. The money was what she claimed that kept her in business, but deep inside she knew it was a lie.

Her latest employer knew it too, but he didn't dig too deep. At least, not visibly. But "Dan," or whatever his real name was, was composed of more than met the eye. She'd only worked for him twice, and both times had been more than interesting. And beneficial to her as well, since she'd managed to survive both jobs long enough to get paid.

Yes, since Aaron's death things had certainly changed. At the thought of her old partner and lover, her heart merely twinged, and Arya forced a smile in the mirror. It looked twisted.

One more long look at the medallion that always rested by her skin. Her last link to the father she'd never really known. The last thing her mother had given her before her death. Touching it had used to help her not feel alone in the universe. Now she knew that it didn't really matter any more. The medallion was no longer a reason to live. Arya pulled the length of chain from around her neck, and tossed the whole thing into the chest that was bolted to the floor of her cabin.

It was liberating, in a way. It also felt like she was tearing out a part of her soul.

[Threepio]

Unblinking twin orange optical units scanned the cargo hold where he'd been sequestered once again. Mistress Arya preferred being alone. To be honest, the protocol droid designated as C-3PO wasn't sure why she kept him.

He also wasn't sure why he always referred to himself with male pronouns. Certainly he had no gender, not literally; he was a droid and had been assigned a designation with no gender associated with it. "It" would be a more proper pronoun to use, but Threepio was a creature of habit. Also, it seemed that he had been programmed to act as he did, so he rarely questioned it, or tried to ponder how his circuits could hold an artificial intelligence that rivaled some sentient beings.

When he found himself 'ruminating,' he usually found Mistress Arya, and asked for a memory wipe. It was disturbing to find that he was contemplating his place in the universe. It wasn't right - he was a droid and that was that.

Mistress Arya had explained that his memory cards wouldn't survive another wipe. If it was attempted, he would lose everything, even his basic programming.

That was disturbing, and then Threepio had to process why he was disturbed at all at the thought of non-existance. It was all very confusing, and so he tried not to do it often. When he felt philosophical he would usually shut down for a few hours, waiting for it to pass.

Besides, he wasn't the philosopher of the two of them, that overgrown garbage can of a -

Threepio extended an arm stiffly, and turned on the lights, flooding the cargo space with brilliance. Mistress Arya certainly wasn't an overgrown garbage can.

"Mistress Arya is not an overgrown garbage can."

"Hey, glad to hear it."

Threepio turned, and his optical receptors recorded Mistress Arya climbing down the ladder from the main compartments. "Ah, I was not referring to you... that is... ah. Good morning, Mistress Arya."

[Arya Ravenwing]

Arya frowned as she came down the ladder. Threepio was talking to himself again, which was another thing that droids should not do. That, and intimating that he had thought she was an overgrown garbage can.

Boots firmly on the deck, she stood with her back to the bulkhead. "I'm going into the city. Look for more work, that sort of thing." They'd just finished a drop here on R'alla, deep in the Corporate Sector Authority. "Keep an eye out for skip tracers, we don't want to pick up any unwanted attention from the Authority."

Threepio nodded jerkily. "Of course, although I am not sure what purpose my looking out will do, as I am not programmed to deal with -"

"You're resourceful, you'll figure something out." Arya worked the controls to the airlock and the outer bay door, and waited for the droid to trundle out behind her. He could get down the ladder into the hold (especially head first) but getting up it was beyond his metal joints. The smuggler let the droid into the main parts of the ship by way of the outer ramp, and then closed up shop. The twenty-four digit security string, and the voice recognition system that was imbedded in the lock should ensure the saftey of the Chevette77 and it's contents.

Not that the contents were that valuable. Although if an Authority skip tracer got on board, he would know immediately that this was a ship built for less than honorable purposes.

However, what Arya was concerned with at the moment was a drink, a card game, and a business deal. Actually, she'd been giving it some thought already, the business bit, and was leaning towards going in for a big profit. Take out the middle man, and smuggle something for herself. R'alla was known inside the Authority for it's mineral water - purer than other water, and also purported to have medicinal value. Arya had also sampled some of the impressive bootleg intoxicants brewed with R'alla mineral water, and the effect was breathtaking.

But business went out of her mind as she walked into a clean looking establishment, and bellied up to the bar. The bartender put down the glass he was wiping out and faced her. "What'll it be? We've got nikta, narcolethe, Megavegiton ale, Johrian whiskey, Jargridian brandy, and Dorian quill, just to name a few of the specialty liquors."

Arya considered that a moment, then ordered. "How about the house spice liquor in a Reactor Core?"

"We've got our own twist on the Reactor Core, called the Meltdown. Uses Lum instead of blue tonic. Care to try it?" The bartender winked at her. "If you don't like it, I'll make you another drink on the house."

She winked back. "Deal." As he turned to mix the drink, she surveyed the joint. There was a couple at a corner table sharing luminescent Durindfires, the yellowish green phosphorus agents in the mixed drinks illuminating their dreamy faces. The smuggler caught sight of a sabacc game starting up, and smiled. This was going to be a good night.

[The Man in Black]

A pair of sharp eyes watched Arya make her entrance, from the far end of the Sabacc table.

"There's an extra seat, if you want to be dealt in."

The stranger leaned back in his seat slightly, puffing at a pipe he held clenched in his teeth.

[Arya Ravenwing]

The bartender pushed her drink over to her, and she nodded thanks as her attention was drawn away by a sabacc player.

"There's an extra seat, if you want to be dealt in."

Arya leaned her elbow on the bar, and studied the pipe smoking man. His mustache was trimmed, if not attractive, and there was something about him that made her cautious. Oh, what the frell. "Never found a table I didn't want to join."

The smuggler laid a credit chit on the bar for her drink, and walked over to the sabacc table. She helped herself to the empty seat, and pulled a Republic chit from her pocket, ready to program it for a likely amount. "How rich's the pot?"

[The Man in Black]

"Ante's at fifty credits. Win or lose however much you can."

As he puffed the pipe, his hands deftly worked over a deck of cards, shuffling and rifling them together with professional speed. He paused, set the deck in front of Arya, who sat immediately to his right.

"Cut."

[Arya Ravenwing]

She reached for the cards, and cut the deck, noticing that the cards were crisp and new. With a new deck it would be more apparent if someone slipped their own skifter into the pile. Usually such cards got worn corners from use.

The man in black took back the deck, shuffling quickly. The speed at which he deftly shuffled and dealt the deck spoke of experience, and his attitude marked him as a professional player, or nearly so. Arya carefully schooled her face to reveal nothing as she let her three cards pile up in front of her.

They were playing by Standard Coruscant rules, with a bit of R'alla flavor. The interference field by her right hand could only be used to save one card through the two randomizations, and the Knaves of Cups, Staves or Sabers were worth negative four instead of the traditional positive nine.

Idly she ran through the rules as she picked up her hand. Sabacc was played all over the galaxy, and the rules could change from planet to planet, and smuggling dens to reputable house, and some systems even had their own brand of sabacc, with the rules named by them. Bespin Cloud City Rules were the most fun to play, apparently invented by an old Baron Administrator of the mining colony.

The object of the game was to reach pure sabacc, or a value of either positive or negative twenty-three. In doing so you would win not only the hand pot, but the sabacc pot which was anted into with each hand. The closest to twenty-three without going over would win the hand pot, but it was the sabacc pot that often grew to legendary proportions.

Some people had won ships and planets by getting pure sabacc, although this sabacc pot didn't seem to have grown too much yet. Arya anted into the hand pot and the sabacc pot, and waited for the other five players to follow suit. She held the Idiot, a grinning skeleton flipping the bird, the Nine of Cups, and the Queen of Light and Darkness. The Idiot gave the Queen a value of negative one, instead of positive ten, and it was generally a dren hand.

But with sabacc, it wasn't over until it was over. Arya flipped another chit into the hand pot, raising her bet another twenty credits, and slipped the Idiot face down into her interference field, to protect it when the dealer pressed the scrambler.

[The Man in Black]

"So, what brings you to R'alla, Miss Ravenwing."

The Man in Black kept his eyes on his cards, before slowly returning them face-down on the table. He didn't need to see Arya's face. She'd no doubt be wondering how he knew her.

[Arya Ravenwing]

Keeping her face still was the first thing a sabacc player learned, and as the dealer dropped her name, Arya could have bluffed on a hand totalling only three. Ignoring him wouldn't do, but her hand unconsciously went to her neck, feeling for the familiar chain. "I haven't decided yet." The medallion wasn't around her neck, and she let her hand drop back to her drink.

"However, I came to play, not talk." The smuggler sipped her drink, and waited for the betting to go completely around the table. She met the dealer's eyes levelly.

[The Man in Black]

"I came to do both."

He placed the final ante on the pile, taking on an extra card.

"I hear you are good at finding things, and better still at moving them."

[Arya Ravenwing]

The guy was getting irritating, and as he scrambled the cards she found herself with a nine of Flasks and the Mistress of Cups. The total was an impressive twenty, combined with the Idiot. Without the Idiot, the total went up to twenty-five, which equaled a bomb out.

When a player bombed out, they had to pay the amount of the hand pot into the sabacc pot. Arya put her cards face down on the table, and turned her head to the dealer. "Some people have said that, yes."