Smidget
Oct 29th, 2004, 11:11:18 PM
The coffee shop isn't as busy as most of the other cafes on Coruscant. In fact, this one is a dive; but it's one that Cassandra frequents the most. Probably because it's the one she's the most comfortable in.
It's been months since she and Daerlayne had been able to pull themselves off the streets. It wasn't easy and it took many, many years for them to achieve that one goal. They'd both been on the streets in the lower levels of Coruscant since they were young children - each having ended up there in completely different ways.
For Cassandra, it was due to the lack of a caring father. Her mother had died when she was around the age of nine. Since her mother's untimely death, her father fell into a stupor he just couldn't pull himself out of - even when the authorities arrived on their doorstep to remove Cassandra from his custody. About half a year later, she was told that her father had passed away. Died of alcohol poisoning while serving his sentence in prison. The one thing she never did learn was the crime - or crimes - he had committed to place him behind bars.
Until then, she had always believed deep within her heart that her father was going to be coming for her. He'd show up and take her out of the horrible orphanage and everything would be fine again. When that last spark of hope of having the life she'd always wanted was snuffed out is when the troubles began. Cassandra withdrew into herself and avoided the other children like the plague. She started acting out - violently - against the caregivers and teachers; even against some of the other children.
A year to the day that she was taken from her home and placed in the orphanage, she ran away. She had no idea where she was going or how she was going to get there; all she knew was that she had to get away or she'd end up taking a life; possibly her own.
She hit the streets and wandered aimlessly. After roaming for a few days, Daerlayne had found her. Well .. more like she ran into him - literally. Cassandra had just stolen some moldy bread from one of the markets along the upper levels. She managed to out run Corsec and was barrelling out of an alleyway near the spacedocks when she ran smack dab into Daerlayne.
Things seemed to snowball from there. Since that fateful day, the two had been inseparable. He, along with other street rats who earned the street name of The Dockhands, took her in and showed her the ropes of surviving on the streets. Needless to say, Cassandra quickly earned the street name Smidget because of her small size and ability to get into - and out of - places others could not.
She and Daerlayne didn't get along all that well in the beginning. Hellbent on remaining as independent as a nine or ten year old street rat could possibly be, she and "Birdie" (as he was known on the streets) have had their fair share of 'disagreements'. In fact, they had them almost regularly until the day Cassandra saw the way Daerlayne took care of his younger brother. The tenderness and care exhibited by Birdie stirred something inside of Smidget and she saw him in a whole new light.
They've had their ups and their downs, but never have they split up or been separated for any length of time. Their relationship had blossomed into a love that is rare to find these days. Those who have ever seen the two together see it as clearly as one can see the setting sun.
A newspaper remains folded in half on the table, pushed aside, clearly not wanted. The silverware remains wrapped neatly within a paper napkin, the paper band holding it together in tact. A styrofoam cup sits in front of her, its contents steaming; slowly growing cold.
It's been a full week since she last seen Daerlayne and the past seven days have been painful. She's cried herself to sleep each night since saying goodbye once again and her days have been spent moping around. Her heart aches each time she has to watch him leave; returning to that place where the Jedi are trained.
She's heard the stories of the Jedi over the years. How they go right into peoples homes and take their young children if they are found to be sensitive in this hocus-pocus dubbed "The Force". The stories are all over the holonet and all over the papers. The Holonet News has all kinds of stories!
One of the most famous involved a young infant known to the public as "Baby Ludi". Cassandra couldn't watch the broadcast for long. She ended up tears as the heart-broken mother told the story on how the Jedi kidnapped her baby.
Since Daerlayne told her about these 'feelings' and 'unexplainable occurences' he's had over the years, she's done her best to understand. She just can't. Cassandra's never believed in this "other power" ... this "higher power" ... that the galaxy refers to as the Force. She's always seen it as just another religious cult out to dupe the general populace into fearing something as strongly as most feared some Emperor calling himself Palpatine.
The tip of her button nose is red from the sniffling, wiping and blowing. Her eyes are bloodshot and the lower lids are red, her cheeks stained from the salty tears that have cascaded as freely as a waterfall over her soft cheeks.
"How can I make him see that these Jedi are not what he thinks they are? How can I get him to open his eyes and see that its just a well organized cult? He's being brainwashed and he doesn't see it!"
Of course, these words aren't spoken to anyone; just her thoughts being spoken aloud.
"You ok, honey? Can I getcha' anythin' else?", the waitress asks while smacking her gum loudly, noticing that Cassandra hasn't touched her tapcafe.
"Huh?" Cassandra looks up to the waitress, whose facial expression instantly becomes sympathetic. The waitress gives Cassandra's shoulder a gentle squeeze, accompanied by a wink. "Don't let 'im get to ya, honey. Believe it or not ... there are other fish in the sea. Let 'im go, honey. It'll do ya' good."
Cassandra's eyebrows dipped so sternly that deep lines creased her forehead, her eyes narrowing. "I don't want anything else. Go away and mind your own business." The waitress stepped back, removing her hand from the distraught woman's shoulder and held it up as if to say 'easy, back off.'
Cassandra watched the woman return to her duties behind the breakfast counter. Some construction workers had shown up for their morning tapcafe and eggs before starting their long, hard day. Cassandra turned her attention to the newspaper, just glancing at the headlines making the news today. Yet again, more hype about these Jedi - cultists. She scoffs derisively, rolling her eyes, then looks out the window.
While chewing against her pouty lower lip thoughtfully, she begins to figure out all the different ways in which she can expose the Jedi as frauds and show the man she has loved for the past ten or so years of her life that they are nothing but expert con artists and there is no such thing as "The Force".
It's been months since she and Daerlayne had been able to pull themselves off the streets. It wasn't easy and it took many, many years for them to achieve that one goal. They'd both been on the streets in the lower levels of Coruscant since they were young children - each having ended up there in completely different ways.
For Cassandra, it was due to the lack of a caring father. Her mother had died when she was around the age of nine. Since her mother's untimely death, her father fell into a stupor he just couldn't pull himself out of - even when the authorities arrived on their doorstep to remove Cassandra from his custody. About half a year later, she was told that her father had passed away. Died of alcohol poisoning while serving his sentence in prison. The one thing she never did learn was the crime - or crimes - he had committed to place him behind bars.
Until then, she had always believed deep within her heart that her father was going to be coming for her. He'd show up and take her out of the horrible orphanage and everything would be fine again. When that last spark of hope of having the life she'd always wanted was snuffed out is when the troubles began. Cassandra withdrew into herself and avoided the other children like the plague. She started acting out - violently - against the caregivers and teachers; even against some of the other children.
A year to the day that she was taken from her home and placed in the orphanage, she ran away. She had no idea where she was going or how she was going to get there; all she knew was that she had to get away or she'd end up taking a life; possibly her own.
She hit the streets and wandered aimlessly. After roaming for a few days, Daerlayne had found her. Well .. more like she ran into him - literally. Cassandra had just stolen some moldy bread from one of the markets along the upper levels. She managed to out run Corsec and was barrelling out of an alleyway near the spacedocks when she ran smack dab into Daerlayne.
Things seemed to snowball from there. Since that fateful day, the two had been inseparable. He, along with other street rats who earned the street name of The Dockhands, took her in and showed her the ropes of surviving on the streets. Needless to say, Cassandra quickly earned the street name Smidget because of her small size and ability to get into - and out of - places others could not.
She and Daerlayne didn't get along all that well in the beginning. Hellbent on remaining as independent as a nine or ten year old street rat could possibly be, she and "Birdie" (as he was known on the streets) have had their fair share of 'disagreements'. In fact, they had them almost regularly until the day Cassandra saw the way Daerlayne took care of his younger brother. The tenderness and care exhibited by Birdie stirred something inside of Smidget and she saw him in a whole new light.
They've had their ups and their downs, but never have they split up or been separated for any length of time. Their relationship had blossomed into a love that is rare to find these days. Those who have ever seen the two together see it as clearly as one can see the setting sun.
A newspaper remains folded in half on the table, pushed aside, clearly not wanted. The silverware remains wrapped neatly within a paper napkin, the paper band holding it together in tact. A styrofoam cup sits in front of her, its contents steaming; slowly growing cold.
It's been a full week since she last seen Daerlayne and the past seven days have been painful. She's cried herself to sleep each night since saying goodbye once again and her days have been spent moping around. Her heart aches each time she has to watch him leave; returning to that place where the Jedi are trained.
She's heard the stories of the Jedi over the years. How they go right into peoples homes and take their young children if they are found to be sensitive in this hocus-pocus dubbed "The Force". The stories are all over the holonet and all over the papers. The Holonet News has all kinds of stories!
One of the most famous involved a young infant known to the public as "Baby Ludi". Cassandra couldn't watch the broadcast for long. She ended up tears as the heart-broken mother told the story on how the Jedi kidnapped her baby.
Since Daerlayne told her about these 'feelings' and 'unexplainable occurences' he's had over the years, she's done her best to understand. She just can't. Cassandra's never believed in this "other power" ... this "higher power" ... that the galaxy refers to as the Force. She's always seen it as just another religious cult out to dupe the general populace into fearing something as strongly as most feared some Emperor calling himself Palpatine.
The tip of her button nose is red from the sniffling, wiping and blowing. Her eyes are bloodshot and the lower lids are red, her cheeks stained from the salty tears that have cascaded as freely as a waterfall over her soft cheeks.
"How can I make him see that these Jedi are not what he thinks they are? How can I get him to open his eyes and see that its just a well organized cult? He's being brainwashed and he doesn't see it!"
Of course, these words aren't spoken to anyone; just her thoughts being spoken aloud.
"You ok, honey? Can I getcha' anythin' else?", the waitress asks while smacking her gum loudly, noticing that Cassandra hasn't touched her tapcafe.
"Huh?" Cassandra looks up to the waitress, whose facial expression instantly becomes sympathetic. The waitress gives Cassandra's shoulder a gentle squeeze, accompanied by a wink. "Don't let 'im get to ya, honey. Believe it or not ... there are other fish in the sea. Let 'im go, honey. It'll do ya' good."
Cassandra's eyebrows dipped so sternly that deep lines creased her forehead, her eyes narrowing. "I don't want anything else. Go away and mind your own business." The waitress stepped back, removing her hand from the distraught woman's shoulder and held it up as if to say 'easy, back off.'
Cassandra watched the woman return to her duties behind the breakfast counter. Some construction workers had shown up for their morning tapcafe and eggs before starting their long, hard day. Cassandra turned her attention to the newspaper, just glancing at the headlines making the news today. Yet again, more hype about these Jedi - cultists. She scoffs derisively, rolling her eyes, then looks out the window.
While chewing against her pouty lower lip thoughtfully, she begins to figure out all the different ways in which she can expose the Jedi as frauds and show the man she has loved for the past ten or so years of her life that they are nothing but expert con artists and there is no such thing as "The Force".