Every other day

[ivory]

Every other day



The day starts like every other day as well. I wake up, do the morning toilet, you know shower, teeth brushing and so on. Then I get dressed and go to work. My place of work is Theed. And to be precise, the main market and the business district. I’m a completely unobtrusive person, and rest assured for my job that’s the best. I’m a pickpocket, I steal for a living. On other worlds it may be difficult to find something worth it to steal on Naboo you have funny enough the exact opposite problem. Out of all the things you can steal you have to find the ones that are worth it, but not SO worth it that you have half the Nubian security forces, including a bunch of those damn force users on your heals.
Trust me. The force users and the amount of royals and “nobles” that hang around the LaCerra clan are ridiculous. I once knocked a beggar over, and a few days later my pictures was in a planet wide search because I had alledegedly insulted some royal from Duma know where. Wasn’t funny and costed me a lot of money. The same goes fort he damn forcers. Every tried to steal something when one of those damn Jedi is around? I mean how is a good honest thief to survive in a world where every second person is a forcer? Bah!

I tell you how it goes; there is different type of Jedi, right? I tell you how they act.

Type A: They notice your attempt to work, and make fun out of you, by pushing you around,
and throwing you into the ground. Hand your work back and everyone knows your
face. They had their laughs and you’re in Bantha spit.
Type B: they chase you as if you just stole the crown jewels or the queen herself for a silly
purse or something, and you’re running for your life, because they treat you like a
shizo chainsaw killer. Aka, they swing their stupid sabres about.
Type C: That’s the real pain, they are the ones that let you do your work, let you get away but
follow you secretly, find your only just furnished hideout, and give you one of those “were the good guys” speeches, the next they tell you, you either got the force and can become a Jedi as well, or work for the Jedi as informant on the streets. Both is a bad choice, cause it brings you into conflict with darksiders.

And that brings me to the other half of the forcers, the darksider.
There are also different types of them, too.

Type A: sees you take something and kills you there and then. Your work wasted, and you’re
dead. Luckily you can tell most darksiders by their ridiculous style of clothing, you
know like in the holos, dark clothes, robes armours and stuff.
Type B: chases you like type b o the Jedi, absolutely no difference
Type C: does the same as type C of the Jedi, only gives you the “were the ones with better pay
and greater power” speech and wants you to work for them, join them and so on. And
that brings you in conflict with the Jedi.
That reminds me, do not tell darksiders what you think about their sense of fashion,
could end you in a body bag.

That’s your two sides of force users. If you ask me it is pretty much the same, stay away from both, Jedi and darksider, all the same Kaadu behinds. Anyway, that is what you learn as the first thing here on Naboo, or you are dead. I’m alive so I can tell you. I stroll casually along between shops, stands that sell everything legal, and sometimes if you know how and who to ask, illegal things as well, like a bit of glitterstim. Boy, that kicks ass, that stuff, but you have to be careful, makes you rather quick addicted and brain dead.
Passing a stand with various kind of bread and other bakery products I take two rolls and move on, melting in with the crowd without even thinking about it. On to another stand of a coffee shop, the famous ooban is worth it to remain here if for nothing else. But I quite like the weather here cause its nice and sunshiny, unless someone does something stupid again, darksiders are known for that, the occasionally try to take over the town and planet, force the LaCerras off of the throne, or marry them to get control. Usually doesn’t last long and for me its no difference either way.

[ivory]

I find myself a sunny spot, and sit down, having my breakfast. A colleague passes by, we nod to each other, exchange a few words and he cracks on. While I sit here and enjoy the nice morning I let my glance casually go over the crowd. You see the usual mix, Jedi, darksiders that act so ridiculously unobtrusive, that you can’t help but to notice them. I think they should take a lesson or two from thieves how to move through crowd’s unseen and unnoticed. Besides them, there are your normal housewives, secretary’s, ambassadors, nobles and royals with their bodyguards, here and there some NSF and the local amount of probs. Wanna know what I call probs? Simple. Problem child. They aren’t necessarily children, but you can tell them from afar, those people that are both clad in barely anything and think it’s decent, the ones covered from head to tow and think its normal, and of course kids that try their best to be caught by Jedi or darksider. And from my point of view the darksiders catch more of them, simply cause the kids literally go to them and say “yo, I wanna be caught by you ok?” and of course the darksiders grab them and wonder of, often right in front of a Jedi’s or NSF nose. And they deliberately turn their heads away or things to the same effect. I wonder if the LaCerras know about this issue. And if they do, do they care? Highly doubted on my side, cause the royals and nobles only care for royal and noble things. I have yet to see someone of them not having their guards shoo the crowd away, cause Madame wants to buy a flower for her lover.
An NSF passes me by and gives me, what he calls a threatening look, I just smile and wave to him. let me tell you about the NSF. NSF stands for Nubian Security Force. But we call it the Nubian Spit Force. Cause the most of them aren’t worth the same. When I say most, then that doesn’t go for their boss Amelia Johnson, man that’s one tough bitch! Unfortunately she only likes women, no chance for me there. Shame. Oh well, can’t have everything can you?
But back to the general NSF, I shall now give you the different types of NSF

Type A: has his NSF title only to show of, disappears when you need them
Type B: like type a, only that they love to impress girls with their NSF badge, and bully
People that can’t fight back, arresting them at will.
Type C: they are kinda funny, they stand by and watch while someone is killed maimed
Kidnapped or something, but go ballistic if you take a bread roll and didn’t pay for it.

That’s the three types of NSF guys you got. Of course you have in every group exceptions from the usual. And here comes one of them, time for me to make a move. That dude was never happy about me taking his NSF badge and throwing it into the lowered hood of a darksider. That guy will arrest you and everyone else because he has a bad day, on a good day he only arrests the really bad guys, and lets the small fish go. I consider myself a small fish really. I have no problems admitting to that. Actually I’m proud of thieving along for this time already, and still being alive and never been arrested yet. Well aside the story with that beggar. Well I don’t count that, so never been arrested, good huh?
I stroll around, my eyes constantly scanning the area for something worth taking or for possible trouble coming my way. A few years ago some crime gang came from Coruscant and wanted to settle down here, and a few of them are still hanging out here in Theed. A Run in with them would mean a fight or something like that, and today I don’t feel like running or fighting. The sun is shining the crowd is moving at ease, nobody is yelling “ hold the thief” yet, and if things go as planned they wont do either. An apple joins my walk around, gone unnoticed by its previous owner just like other things before. I don’t feel guilt why should I? I know for a fact that the shop owners have a loss through thievery planned in in their prices already, so really I am doing the honest customers a favour. Because I make sure they pay a realistic price and not a made up one.

[ivory]

I pass one of the trick gambling tables, you know the good old card tricks, the “where is the nut” trick and so on. We know each other; after all there are guilds for the gamblers, the beggars and the thieves. What? You thought only “noble” jobs can organize? Rest assured we have our pride as well, and don’t take insults or free agents to well.
Lunch time, as my stomach reports to my brain, and I head over to the market area where warm and cold food is sold. Unfortunately they sell everything for everyone, sometimes still alive slimy and moving. You have to have a strong stomach to buy and eat here, that’s why most people go for a take away. I follow suit and take away. A nice fried Peka joins my round as well as some smoked vegetables, and Alderanian ale to wash it all down.
Not far from here is a little green spot. A few trees offer shadow if you want it, and benches with tables sit in the sun. I choose a sun filled spot, enjoy the warmth of the sun as I always do, and have lunch. I’m always careful; never take twice a day from the same person, never take two days on the run from the same area. Don’t even eat every day in the same location. If you do that you become predictable, and to be unpredictable is what counts.
I take the freedom of a free hour and a nice little doze. Why shouldn’t I? I’ve done nothing wrong? Innocent citizen sits and dozes. Many of my younger colleagues don’t have the nerves for that, but I’m to long in the business to be upset at an NSF passing by, or two Jedi strolling across the market.
Talking about Jedi. You’d wonder what kind of people they have in their lines: spoiled children, beggar’s thieves and gamblers, royals, aliens, such as Ewoks and Wookies, Twi’lek even a Trandoshan. Next will be a Hutt I swear. If you look at what they collected in their time here, then you wonder it isn’t a circus yet. Over the musing my self prescribed lunch break is over and I return to work

[ivory]

The morning I have spent in the front half of the market, where the gift stands and shops are, where cloth is sold, cheap jewellery, toys, fake paintings, and other stuff mostly useless. Of course that is where the big money lies, but I took there twice already today, and one should never over exaggerate your luck, because it may turn against you.
So now I am off to the “useful” market half. I call it that cause you get engines, weapons, and the according parts, clothes, boots and the like here. I am a thief, and I consider it as dishonourable to buy anything I need. Besides the parts taken here can be sold with ease again, not as much as in taking cash directly but you get the idea. And here comes my first victim. Ah no, better not, cause what I was just about to take belongs to a Wookie, and they aren’t known for their gentle treatment of thieves. Phew only just made that then! Never mind ill find something else. I always do. So I stroll along keeping my ears shut to the countless offers for supraleaders, steering crystals, and other parts. I also keep my ears closed to other offers of the twilight zone you know I mean? Drugs and girls. Nah, not for me. My drug is the kick of taking things. Well yeah, now and again a drink, even glitterstim, but that happens once in the blue moon, and my wife is the only girl I ever loved.
And really. I mean weapons, why should I bother with heavy arms? I got a new Vibro blade stuck in my boot and that will have to do. I am old-fashioned in that way. I think that if you carry arms, you’ll use them, and I am not a thief to go round and put holes into people’s bodies. Bad publicity as well you know? When you constantly make artificial holes in places where they don’t belong you have sooner or later, most the time later, the Jedi and the NSF on your heels. Don’t want that nu uh.
Here comes the second chance on the useful market half. A Sullustian carries something heavy. What it is doesn’t matter to me, cause as one of the best thieves in town I always got my handymen ready to take over from me, and get rid of it whatever it is, and since we are a guild, we have our honour codex I talked about before. Nobody will rip me of, and I won’t rip them of. I walk up beside him, and soon turn away again, whatever it is he carries, it smells, and it smells like only organic stuff smells. I am no alien expert, at times I cant tell their faeces from their food, so I wont touch anything organic an alien carries around. Learned from experiences when I was younger.
Casually an item finds its way into my pocket, I often have that happening, it is like a thief’s “force” of kinds. It comes and goes, tells me “take me now” and I will take t and pass it on. Half the money I make is earned this way. Take it, pass it, get the cash.
Noise indicate a commotion ahead, like everyone else I stroll over, cause that’s always a chance for some old fashioned pick pocketing, you’d be surprised how careless people become when they watch a fight or an argument. Sometimes we start one ourselves just for that purpose. Some more steps, some more people passed and a few smaller credit chips in my pocket that didn’t need decrypting cause of the small amount, and I heard it: the typical humming of sabres. As I said before, living on Naboo makes you an expert in light sabres even if you’re no force user. Red against silver? Jedi against darksider, I cant imagine Jedi doing a practise fight in the middle of the crowded market place. Nope my guess was right; it’s the midget Jedi girl and a darksider of two meter height. At least compared to the midget.
I think her name is Ivory or something, matches her, because her skin is as pale as Ivory, even her sabre is silverwhite. I’ve never seen her in Jedi robes, but everyone knows she is a Jedi, for a time she was quite famous on Naboo, being one of the youngest royal ambassadors ever and the last Padawan of Lianna Lacerra. The darksider must be one of the more stupid type from what I can see, he howls stuff at her, but she only ducks it and comes with each duck a step closer, until she manages to get behind him, and with one swift motion cuts the dudes arm of at the shoulder. The darksider falls to the ground and groans in pain, while the midget Jedi only straightens herself up, and says something I can’t understand to the darksider. Suddenly I have the feeling her eyes meet mine, though I can’t be sure, she always wears black shades.
“Party is over, get going!” a loud voice snarls. And I make sure to disappear in the crowd, as the crowd makes sure to break up. Cause the owner of that voice isn’t one to mess with. It’s Justin Callahan, head of Security. I don’t know his connections, but I know this guy is dangerous. But I stop again overhearing him say: “hello little sister” I look over my shoulder and see him hug the midget Jedi, they are relatives? Ouch, never would have thought that. Especially as I didn’t had the impression that Callahan likes the Jedi to much. But hey this is Theed, Naboo. Even the dead return here to the living. Oh, btw, remember what I said about the NSF? Forget that when you’re dealing with Justin Callahan, that guy has his own personal honour codex he follows, and only he knows what it is. And with him on the market, business is over for now. The twilight traders disappear into the shadows where they come from, and nobody is risking another commotion for ripping a customer of. To Dangerous. Callahan orders some security guys over and they pick up the darksider, one carrying the cut of arm behind. That dude is now under arrest, unlucky for him. But to be honest? If I am ever to be arrested by anyone, then I hope it is Callahan. If you give him a reason to fight he will extend his claws, yep you heard right claws, he has them inside his hands, wicked if you ask me. He will cut you into neat little pieces if you give him reason to, but if you act reasonable, you are treated with at least a small form of respect. And who doesn’t wants to be treated with respect? Remember, what ever you do, always make sure that you have respect. Do not mix up respect with fear or devotion, that is completely different. No, respect is what makes every man and woman stand upright and face things in decency.
Anyway. Callahan moves of with the midget Jedi, I pass them by in the other direction ad hear how she describes the fight before she disarmed the guy. Now these two are people I don’t want to cross on the bad side, same goes for that six foot vamp with the horns. She is….
Never mind I love my wife!

[ivory]

The afternoon moves on, sun always sets on Naboo at 7 pm, and rises at 7 am, something I have given up to wonder about. 12 hours dark, 12 hours light. Maybe it has to do with the forcers? Light and darkside? Bah, not my business in anyway. I am a little behind my daily duties, not that I couldn’t make it up the next day if I have to, but things you can do today, do them today, or they will pile up, as I always say.
And here it comes, a box full of Corusca gem splints for circuit boards. Today’s jackpot, and accordingly I have to act. Ill bet my monthly income on this being watched over carefully and that it is secured. Now how to get hold of that? I’ll check it out casually and see it is accompanied by two Rhodians. Duma help! I hate Rhodians, most of them have less brain then a fly. And these two make no exception from that rule. One swings his blaster around on his finger like the gunslingers in holos do, and the other decides it is better to watch two blue female Twi’lek pass by. A nice sight indeed but not when you have Corusca gems to look after. His obvious lack of attention I use to get eve closer, checking quickly if it is not an empty box. Just then the trader opens the box a little and I can see it is half full. That easy twice a monthly income! Grabbing and running of is no option since I am not the youngest anymore, but with Rhodians the commotion tick works always, it’s a guarantee. A certain signal gives my colleagues a hint, and another tells them, what I want. Instantly they start a fight right in front of the two Green idiots.
Both pay more attention to the fight, which is actually played and carried out, then to the box. The trader, obviously the owner, snarls something noting that. Now, another steps in, a kid, and tries to sell something to the trader, who will not go for it, but Is occupied shooing the kid away, to not be pestered anymore. Yes we are indeed a large and well organized group. I walk over and with an extremely casual motion the box moves along with me, while the kid still pesters.
3 steps are made as I hear a scream of “HOLD THE THIEF!” damn I wouldn’t have mind to get a little further away! I pick up a pace; seek the next contact of mine to pass the box over as I feel a hand on my shoulder and the known smell of Rhodian. Time to move! I swing the box over my shoulder into the Rhodians head and run. Rhodian’s aren’t to well liked here on this market, and so plenty of people laugh as the Rhodian’s nose starts to bleed and he cant chase me, cause he cant see me in his insect eyes. I don’t laugh just run of as fast as m old legs will carry me, and pass the box on to someone younger, where the hell are they all? Looking back I see them, they keep the Rhodian’s busy, by acting a little helpful compared to the other bystanders. It’s on me then. I rush of and through the stands and shops I’m after a few minutes far enough away to walk normal again. Geeze, I’m getting to old for this. I feel my old heart pound in my chest and my breathing needs longer to return to normal. Eventually I can get rid of the box, and return home, I had enough for today, seriously enough.
I won’t tell you were I live, its better that way. But at night, enjoying a nice Corellian brandy, I write this letter to you, ill send it of tomorrow. Good night I’m going to bed now.

The next day starts as every other day. Only that an elderly man is found dead at his home, there must have been a fight, Rhodian DNA is found in the blood that’s splattered all over the little houses main room. The man has had no chance, and his neighbour’s wonder why he was killed so cruelly.
Justin Callahan arrives at the crime scene by chance and searches the house for hints. He finds the data pad with the letter and the address.
The letter is addressed at the Theed cemetery, the old mans wife and only son died years ago in an accident.