untitled story part two

Instructions

Thief Ever since Everett’s death, Sian had made some stupid choices. Really stupid choices. She ran away from Rina, who she found insufferable. Rina sat around bemoaning Alderaan’s fate, while Sian wanted to do something about it. But, while Sian had courage and passion, she lacked direction, and she soon found herself aimlessly wandering the streets, alone. It was easy to imagine rebelling but it wasn’t easy to actually pull it off. Instead of seeking revenge, Sian seeked out food, shelter, and companionship. And after a while, she found all three. “You’re the little scrap rat that’s been running around lately?” The girl asked. She looked younger than Sian, but she had an air of authority about her. Her cropped blond hair hung around her face in waves and her blue eyes had a hard edge to them. She was leaning against a wall, her arms crossed. Her jacket was worn and dirty and the white scarf around her neck was faded and torn. “Excuse me?” Sian asked. Was a scrap rat an insult? A compliment? She couldn’t tell because of the girl’s perfectly neutral tone. “A scrap rat. A little nuisance. They’ve been talking about you.” “Who has?” “They have.” “That’s not helpful.” “I know.” Sian rolled her eyes. “What do you want?” The girl smirked. “A deal.” “What kind of deal?” Sian asked cautiously. “Well, I help you learn how to be a decent thief, and you repay me by stealing for me.” The girl said. “You can join our group.” “Group?” “Yup.” Three more kids stepped out of the shadows. Another human, a Twi’lek and a Rodian. The girl spoke again. “I’m Lena, this is Jace, Bix and Seema. What do you say?” Jerry “So, what’s your name?” Caeson asked, sitting on the cold durasteel floor of his prison cell and staring out the red ray shield at the stormtrooper standing on guard outside his cell. “If you don’t answer, I’m just going to call you Jerry.” The stormtrooper ignored him. “Alright, Jerry.” Still nothing. Caeson switched position, so he was leaning against the wall right behind where Jerry stood on the other side. “My name is Caeson. Or ‘Traitor’, whatever suits your fancy.” Caeson yawned. “I hope you don’t mind if I get a little talkative. It’s quite boring here.” There was no response. “Alright, I’ll take that as a go-ahead.” Caeson said cheerfully. Maybe he really was going stir crazy. “I’m not a traitor. Not really. I used to be your average joe, empire lover. I figured some order would be just what this galaxy needed. But blowing up my home planet? Not order. Not protection. That wasn’t a planet full of terrorists. That was my home. It was a beautiful world. Have you been there? Glittering white cities, blue lakes, mountains and lush forests.” Caeson stopped for a moment as his voice broke. There was no response from Jerry. “Now, me saying that it wasn’t fair that the Empire torched my planet? Not being a terrorist. That officer had an inflated sense of privilege, I’m sure you see that a lot, having to serve under those types of people.” Was it Caeson’s imagination, or did Jerry snort under his breath? Whatever it was, it gave Caeson the motivation to keep talking. “So yeah. You give someone a little bit of power, and they think of themselves as much more than they really are. Maybe that’s how you’re acting, too. Why won't you say a word as I ramble on. Maybe you’re standing there in that white armor, thinking you’re so much better than the lowly smuggler babbling on the floor of a prison cell.” And then Jerry spoke, so quietly Caeson barely heard him. “Maybe I am. Caeson.”