OOC:

This story is probably going to need a disclaimer. I have a new meathod of writing, drunk writing/sober editing that may remove the need, but it's hard to say. There is only so much I can dumb it down and still remain interested, because basically much less than this and I'd feel the characters were too weak and I'd kill them off in general distaste. May contain bloody violence, strong and/or violent sexual themes and definitely pervasive language. This is why my character dev stories never get anywhere. If you want to complain, well, only the grader needs to read it and I know they can deal with it. This bit is more intro than anything and I can't say where these themes may or may not pop up. You have been warned.

He drummed his fingers on the table, bored. Desperately bored. One of the, well, many things he hated was waiting. Waiting, soup, sand, cold, idiots, children and poorly made speeders. It was the very last that brought him to be drumming his fingers on a restaurant table at noon in the unforgiving heat of Tatooine. Did he mention he hated sand? He couldn’t remember if it had made his list, but it definitely needed to. He tried to pick some out of his finger nails, succeeding only in introducing more.

“You Matthias?”

Matthias, what a funny joke, he wondered how long he’d have to keep it up. “Yeah, I be he.”

The man who had just so rudely interrupted Matthias’ contemplation was average height, unassuming build and smelly. His black hair was shoulder length and greasier than most speeder engines, his face was dirty and he generally smelled of self pleasure and cheap cigarettes.

“Hey man, I’m so sorry about that one, you know I got it from my cousin and he said it was good, but I didn’t know at first, and he convinced me. . .”

“Oh get to the point. You stink, I’m sober and I currently don’t have a set of repulsors.”

He furrowed his brow, he’d clearly come up with a story he was very proud of and wasn’t entirely happy at the time he wasted doing so, “Well, man, I feel bad, man, but I did some looking around and I found ya a great deal on an Incom.”

“Yeah, I bet it’s stolen, I just want my money back.”

“Hey man, you bought it, as is, thems the breaks.”

“Yeah, right,” Matthias pulled the shotgun out of it’s holster and set it on the table, the words ‘Thunder God’ machined in the barrel caught the light magnificently, “Fool me once, my friend, shame on you. . .”

“Look, I haven’t got the money” At the sight of the gun he’d gone rigid, his eyes widened, a reflex, his mind would be shutting down, he must have had a bad experience, “But I can get it! I can get it! Just give me three days!”

The little worm could skip planet in three days, then again, Matthias knew his type, he wasn’t likely to give up the life, or semblance of one, that he had, “You have two. In two days, right here, same time. Don’t be late this time, the Thunder God gets pissy when you’re late.”

“Y-yes, sure, anything you say.”

“Damn right,” Matthias said, standing up and holstering his shotgun.

He turned his back then and left, he was stuck on foot for the time, and in the star forsaken sun too. He hated this planet even more now. The temptation to just take his ship and land it on buildings he wished to visit was almost unbearable, but he had to play nice, Tatooine was only a way point, no need to cause a mess until he’d gotten where he was going.

He shuffled his weary way towards the closest cantina, it wasn’t even dark yet and he was exhausted and sweaty. He needed a drink. He walked in through the door, looked around, shrugged and continued towards the bar. It wasn’t much of a cantina, big definitely, but not interesting, nothing hung on the walls, the myriad of creatures that occupied it didn’t even look at him when he entered, the kind of place one kept to themselves. Matthias could deal with that, he didn’t want to mingle, he just wanted a god damn drink.

So there he sat, at the bar, hunched over, wishing he could ignore the world, guzzling down Corellian ale as fast as they could feed it to him.

---

"Where is he!" She yelled at no on in particular.

"The master said he was out. . "

"I know!" She screamed, throwing herself out of the seat and pacing around the cockpit, "I know what he said! But why isn't he back yet!" She stopped the floor in irritation. Then giving up and threw herself back in the seat, "He said we'd get to do something fun." Pouting, unhappy.

The droid had learned, or as much as they did learn, not to say anything when she was like this. He'd just get told to shut up, so his processors told him that initiating an action that resulted in the cessation of that action meant that no action was more efficient. Higher Efficiency was the reason a droid continued to operate.

---

Matthias looked around the dingy bar. He'd had a couple drinks already and was feeling slightly restless. He knew he was going to need to pick up a passenger anyway. His somewhat intoxicated mind decided why not now. There wasn't many beings to pick from, really. Matthias long life of varied careers had taught him how to pick out people, how to decide what kind of person they where, at a glance. It wasn't a perfect method, it could frequently be fooled, but on average it worked for him. His wandering eyes finally settled on a human, taking up a table near the middle of the room. He was one of the louder patrons, dressed quite well, despite his apparent lack of age. He was playing sabacc, and seemed to be doing quite well by the attitude of those leaving the table. Matthias looked at his drink, threw the rest of it back and ordered another.

As soon as it came Matthias walked, somewhat off kilter, towards the table, grabbed a chair from a nearby one and sat himself down. There was a Gran, a twi'lek male and two human men at the table as well. Matthias cast his eyes, and in his state therefor his entire head, around to the dealer. Young, mid twenties maybe, human, wearing a black suit, round blue sunglasses and a big smile.

"De-al me in!" Matthias proclaimed, slamming his drink on the table, trying to look drunker than he really was.

"Oh are you sure oh greatly tall one? This is a high stakes game?!" The smarmy, smart dressed on said.

"Oh I be sure, and what be your name, ole asshat?"

"Me? Oh, I'm Joorson Mav'rek, card player by trade." His grin was wide and mirthful.

"They call me Matthias, now let me have it." Matthias picked up his glass and took a long drink.

Mav'rek dealt the cards quickly, with the expertise to be expected from a professional, Matthias found out quickly they weren't playing Sabacc, but rather some poker referred to as 'five card draw' that used a wholly different deck of cards. Matthias eyes were locked on Joorson;, the other mans eyes conveniently hidden behind his sunglasses. Matthias briefly considered getting a pair, anything he could do to help forget he was on Tatooine.

The first round came out, Matthias sneered at his cards and tossed all but two. He didn't have anything that mattered, so at this point who cared. Also he was getting drunk and really was going to let luck guide him, it was usually a friend of his. Three cards came to him. The hand was looking better. Seven, eight, nine and ten of cups. That was cool, he liked that. The straggler Queen of Sabres was a pain in his ass. The next round of betting took place, the granb and one of the humans bowed out. Matthias tossed in some chips, he couldn't count how many, but everyone called. He discarded the bitch, picked up a king of the same suit. At the next round he folded. There was no winning. The hand went to the smart man in black, Joorson.

The next hand Matthias threw in his ante. He got a two, three, five, six and ace of coins to start, coupled with the bitch.. Queen of Sabres again. Matthias was really starting to hate that card. He wanted, desperately, to rip it in half. This was the second time in a row he'd been close to a straight flush. He didn't even want to try this time, he folded before the second round. He also spit on a bothan and flipped off a rodian. He seemed to be pretty drunk.

At the next hand Matthias threw his ante in without thinking, the granb had left, the twi'lek had left, it was now a table of four human males. Matthias was too drunk to even really notice though. His hand came and there were three eights. He payed it no mind, tossed in a call and two cards. The next two to come to him were both kings, full house. He'd sit on it.The one with the blond hair and rugged jaw scratched at his temple, then folded and stumbled to the bar. The one in sunglasses, however, raised another three thousand, he still had the stupid wide grin on his face. Matthias raised another three, Mav'reck raised again. Matthias looked at his chips, or lack there of.

"Well, I can't match that, my friend, so I suppose I should shuffle off."

"Oh, maybe not. You look like the traveling sort."

"I'm not taking on passengers or giving up my ship."

"No. Wrong. You don't want to take on passengers."

"Well, perhaps, do you have somewhere you want to go?" Matthias was taking a quick chance, perhaps he had been right, perhaps this man really did just want gone.

He nodded his head down, his sunglasses slipping to the end of his nose, "Somewhere that's not here." He stared Matthias in the eyes, a broken moment of sincerity.

"Alright, fine, we'll call it a deal if you throw in those sunglasses."

"Fine by me." He said with his grin reappearing. He pulled the sunglasses off and tossed them into the middle of the table. Then he threw down his cards. "Two small pairs, twos and twos. If you can beat that, well, then these glasses are yours."

Matthias face tightened. Full house. Nearly unbeatable. Only three hands could make it look stupid. Straight Flush, Royal Flush and Four of a kind. Four of a kind sometimes known as two small pair of the same number. Matthias tossed his hand into the middle in frustration, it was clear he lost and his pride was not at all happy. He reached up his hand and over his shoulder gestured at the bartender.

Mav'rek smiled wide and began pulling the chips in towards him. He was laughing lightly, probably at his good fortune, Matthias on the other hand was swearing at lady luck in his head. He knew the other man had won, as fair and square as these things ever were. What irked him was that he was going to have to take the cocky pain in the ass with him. Of course he had been looking for a passenger or three to give him some semblance of legitimacy, but not this guy. Matthias had lost to him, therefor he didn't really like him.

Matthias got up, making no effort not to wobble the table, sadly the gambler only cackled a little more. Matthias pushed his way angrily and drunkenly to the bar, ordered a double of the strongest whiskey they had and downed it in one painful gulp. He was going to have to drink a lot to deal with this guy. So he sat there at the bar until the overly happy and energetic gambler sallied up next to him, occupied the seat next to him and insisted on changing in his winnings. Matthias watched the pile of credit chits it made and nearly cried.

"I already hate you."

"Oh I thought you might, but, you know, thems the breaks."

Matthias squinted. That was the second time in the past few hours he'd heard that term and he was beginning not to like it. Not to like it at all. He slammed his third-so-far empty shot glass on the bar and stood up, swaying slightly in the absent wind. He strode towards the door, the gambler scraping together his credits hurriedly and following after.

"Hey! Hey! I need a ship name, a place, anything!"

"Gyah, just bloody follow me you dickless wonder." Matthias spit into the sand as he left the building and lit another cigarette.

"Not cool."

Matthias, or Snipes, or any of the other names he collected. He groaned just thinking about it. He wandered back to what passed for an engine room, more of an engine closet, or nook, he threw himself into the tight space between the engine and the wall, pulled a bottle out of a cranny and began drinking on it.

He wanted some peace and quite, and this seemed the only place he was likely to find any. He’d been running around for weeks just trying to get twenty minutes to himself. His ship was full of strangers, bars were always packed and he had a demandable schedule to keep.

He was happy to have finally found a few moments of peace, Taara distracted with Mav’rek, showing him around likely, showing him his room, flirting. Matthias knew her all too well. She wasn’t the sort that could live without flirting with every man around. Couldn’t seem to survive without the pleasures of the flesh. Matthias wasn’t that simple, but that didn’t always stop him from enjoying such things.

He leaned his head against the engine, cold steel felt good, chasing away the residual heat left in his flesh by the twin bastard suns of Tatooine. Matthias inhaled deeply, the scent of oil, grease and labor wafted into his nostrils, chasing away the remnants of the hated perfume, soothing him. The metal floor and walls were cold against his clammy skin, even through his clothes. He let himself lay there for awhile, taking an occasional drink and slowly he drifted off to sleep, comfortable, and for once somewhat content.

* * *

The sudden sounds of engines starting against his ear coupled with the harsh vibrations from it woke Matthias suddenly. He looked around for a few seconds, startled. Then squeeze his face together in frustration.

“God dammit!” He yelled, springing up from his seat on the durasteel floor.

The bottle was still clasped in his hand as he started at a wobbling run towards the cockpit. He knew his way well enough, after all, it was his ship. He was trying to work out what was going on in his still quite booze rattled state. He was the only one that could fly, so why was the ship on, what was going on? These were the kind of questions that ran through his brain, none of them considered long enough for an answer.

In a few short seconds he burst into the cockpit. Perfume invaded his nostrils and mind, making him want to vomit. Taara sat at the controls, she turned as soon as she heard him enter and giggled. Matthias, no doubt, looked wild, his eyes wide and many parts of his long hair had found liberation from the ponytail. The infuriating droid was there aswell, Mav’rek was nowhere to be seen, however, that was something of a relief, Matthias didn’t feel like dealing with him.

“What the hell?” Snipes yelled, after initial shock had worn off, “I was working back there! You could of killed me!”

“No you weren’t, Snipesy, you were sleeping” Taara said, getting out of his seat and wander towards him, “We could hear you snoring all the way up top.”

Matthias groaned, “What the hell were you doing in my room? Told you to stay out of there.” He walked, pushing his way past her, and set himself down in the pilots seat.

“I couldn’t find you,” She said, throwing herself down in his lap, “but your room smells like you.”

“Yeah, great, wonderful, I’m elated. Any word from Hond?”

She tilted her head back against his chest so that she could look up at him, “He’s back, in his room, moody as always.

“Snipesy, I’m bored,” She said, wiggling her butt against his lap.

“Too bad,” Matthias said, staring out the viewport at the sinking sun, “We need to get going. Let the others know, we’re taking off.”

She groaned softly, “But what about me?”

“We’re in a hurry kiddo.”

She got up, unhappy, sulky, and left the cockpit. Matthias paid it no mind. He went about manipulating the controls of the ship. Normal, boring, preflight checks and system ignitions. He could still feel where she had sat, and part of him wanted her back. Wanted once again to have her close. Instead he pushed that part of him to the back and busied himself with the task infront of him. After several short minutes the vessel was ready.

“Alright shitheads. We are off this fuckin’ rock as of now.” Matthias yelled, keying the intercom.

Matthias then hit the buttons to engage the repulsors, lifting the ship from the hanger. It was a quick and easy flight out of the atmosphere, then there was the waiting, the ships engines on half power and pointed to nowhere he began calculating the hyperspace jump. Nar Shadaa was the next stop, the smugglers moon itself.

Even the jump to hyperspace was boring, Matthias was all too familiar with it. He was left trying to find things to do in the cockpit, there were minor course adjustments, computer maintenance, and finally he busied himself cleaning the control panels. Every now and then shooting a warning glance at the protocol droid in the corner.

He’d taught it better than to speak in his presence. He hated droids. He only tolerated its presence because Taara insisted on keeping it around. He hated it, he hated anything designed to be so purely obnoxious. He could, however, tell it was watching him, and that was probably one of the more unsettling things to him. A lifeless hulk of metal watching him. He couldn’t trust anything like that.

Unfortunately Matthias quickly found that he’d already cleaned the terminals more than once and was going to have to leave the cockpit. It was a mixed blessing. He could be away from the cursed droid, but he might actually have to deal with the sapient (or allegedly so) creatures occupying the ship.

Outside of the cockpit he wandered to the lounge, it was on his way to the turbolift that would take him to his own room. However in the lounge were Mav’rek and Hond, playing cards. The human gambler and the human looking gunman staring straight across at each other. Both had their eyes hidden behind sunglasses, Mav’rek’s behind blue ones, Honds behind orange round sunglasses with the leather side shades. Matthias didn’t particularly want to deal with either. He walked quickly past the pair, ignoring their hellos and how-do-you-do’s.

He found his turbolift and took it up to his room, sighing. He still had the bottle of whiskey from his stash in the engine room gripped in his hand, but most of all he wanted to go to bed. To sleep soundly and be undisturbed.

One heartbeat into his room and he knew that wasn’t going to happen, Taara sat on the edge of his cot, waiting. The room was round and low around the circumference, the domed area cluttered with junk around the edges, a single seat and side table in the middle. It was the human woman, he dark brown hair let loose, her upper body bare and legs crossed sitting on his cot, waiting for him that let him know he wasn’t going to get any sleep as soon as he would otherwise wish.