Groaning, Xicanti rolled over to his stomach, wanting little more than sleep. However, before falling into that worthy plane of existence, he thought through all that had occurred that day, trying to figure out how in hell he had enjoyed it so very much. He remembered the abrupt wake up call he had received, and reflected on his young nephew, Anakin - known to most as Icky - who had been the bearer of this. "Great kid," the young thief muttered to himself. "I've gotta get to know him better."
He also recalled the breakfast the head cook had given him in the kitchen. Most of the food eaten by the occupants of the Palace came from the dispensers, yet the cook had managed to remain an important part of the household. Those with a longing for something considerably more edible visited her kitchen at all hours of the day and night, always well assured of their acceptance. Xicanti had become good friends with Cook, as she asked to be called, during the first weeks he'd stayed in the Palace; she always gave him a fine meal when he visited her in exchange for a tale or two. She enjoyed hearing stories of the houses he had robbed, and thought she might have worked for some of the victimized families at some point in time. The young thief had thought this might upset her; much to the contrary, she was gleeful about it. "Most of them deserve to have their precious things stolen!" she'd told him. "They were greedy people, always wanting more of this and more of that, then expecting to stay thin!" She hmpfed. "Crazy people! Thinking they'd stay thin on my cooking! Not one of them ever saying so much as a simple 'Thank you', either. Hmpf!"
Of course, there had also been the waking of Xeph to look over, and the training that Mara had put him through. "And that's 'bout it," Xicanti muttered to himself with a sigh. "Nothing else really happened. Now, if I were still a practicing thief, the day would've been filled with good stuff. And the night... now there would've been a damn good time! I could've gone to a cantina and picked the pockets of all the drunks, or maybe Up to one of the houses to practice cracking the security systems."
Xicanti sighed again as he thought of what he'd given up. "If only stuff was more interesting here," he said to himself. "Trelna offered to make it better for a bit, but that wouldn't have lasted for long." He thought for a moment. "I'd like to go to The Hero's Conquest again to see Shar, or visit with the whores, or something that I've always loved."
Thinking about the whores made him think of Trelna again. The young thief's only previous interaction with females had been the whores, who were like mothers to him, and Leia, who was his sister and married at that. As a result, he had been slightly unnerved by the Lady's actions. "I never would've expected anyone to suggest somethin' like that to me!" he said aloud.
But then again, I've only really looked this way for about a day now. No one would've really wanted me before, when I was all dirty, he continued inside of his head. He refrained from voicing such thoughts aloud, as he wouldn't have anyone who might happen to overhear him think he was vain. But I'm not getting vain. Am I? Xicanti really didn't know. He hoped he wasn't. Most of the vain people he'd met had been self centered and cruel. I don't want to be like that! his internal dialogue cried.
:And so you won't be!: stated the same voice he had heard during the meeting with Leia.
The young thief put his head up. "Who are you?" he asked out loud. "You talked to me last night, and now you're talkin' to me again, so I'd sorta like to see you. I've got this thing about talkin' to people I can't see. I don't like it much."
There came a mental sigh. :I'm afraid you won't be able to see me right now,: the voice replied apologetically. :You see, I'm not in the room. I wouldn't be able to be nice to you, even if I was. I have to keep up appearances. If I was nice to you in public, I'd have to be nice to everyone else. I'm sure you understand, though, so I won't dwell on it.:
Xicanti nodded. "I think I do. At least tell me who you are, then. If you don't mind, I mean."
:Why, of course I shall!: the voice replied, its tone almost a purr. :I am Cora, Mara's Corillean Sand Panther. I serve as her bodyguard. You know the drill. Someone tries to kill her, I jump on them and chew for all I'm worth. It'd be a very interesting profession, if only people would actually try to kill her once in a while. As things are, it's rather boring. No one even comes near her with an evil intent, except the Jacens. Those two aren't really trying to hurt her, though. They just want to get back at her for breaking Han's leg that time. It was an accident, but they don't know it, and Mara certainly isn't going to tell them that she didn't do it on purpose. That would ruin her reputation. You won't tell anyone, will you? No, I don't think you will. You're reasonably honorable, for a thief.:
"Being a thief and being dishonorable are two completely different things," Xicanti replied. "You can be an honorable thief just as easily as you can be a dishonorable Councilor. But I guess you don't really care about that, now do you?"
:Actually, I care very much. People and their thoughts interest me. I've been observing them my entire existence. They really are fascinating, if you know how to look at them.
:But anyways,: she continued, :I didn't come to tell you about things like this. You were thinking about the things you always enjoyed doing and, since I know very nearly everything, I decided to come and help you out. Do you remember going to listen to the stories?:
The young thief was surprised. "Of course I remember," he replied. "How could I ever forget? Me an' Xeph used to go every Saturday to listen to them. It was the high point of our week."
:Well, maybe you should go visit the girl the stories were read to. You're practically an adult now; I think you could handle it.: With that, the panther withdrew her mind from his.
Xicanti sat and thought about Cora's suggestion for a moment. "I suppose I wouldn't have anything to loose by doing that," he speculated. "It might even be fun. I always really did want to meet this girl, too, even though it was impossible when I was a practicing thief." He scratched his head, involuntarily grabbing a handful of hair as he did so. As he stared dully at the red-gold mass, Xicanti thought back to his encounter with Trelna. "She thought I was attractive," he murmured to himself. "So this girl might too. I guess I'd like to have her for a friend, but I'd want her to like me for me, not for how I look, like Trelna did." He let the hank of hair fall, thinking hard as it tumbled down his back. The young thief knew without a doubt that he would go. It was all a matter of sorting things out in his head so as to avoid a positive first impression based solely upon the physical.
"I must be going crazy," Xicanti muttered to himself as he turned towards the door to his room. "I started the day by refusing to have sex with a beautiful woman, and now I'm decide what to do with my night based on what cat told me." He shook his head as he opened the door and went out. "What could this be but insanity?"
Xicanti focused on finding all the toeholds in the wall. He had removed his shoes, making the climb up the well-known wall much easier. It seemed to yield up new secrets each time he climbed it, creating a never-ending interest factor.
The young thief let his mind wander back to the many times he had scaled the wall with Xepher, both eager to get to the ledge below the window before the father got too far into that night's chapter. It had been their weekly pastime for years The stories, however, had stopped flowing five years earlier, and Xicanti had not returned to the place since.
With pride, the young thief located the final hold he needed, and boosted himself up to the ledge below the window. He had always wanted to peer through the window, yet never had it been safe enough, or remotely necessary. Now, it was the later, and he hoped with all his heart that the former should also apply.
The young thief took a deep breath. I wonder how she'll react to havin' someone climb into her room in the middle of the night? he wondered. I hope she isn't hysterical or anything. That'd be more 'an I could bear. Whatever she was, Xicanti knew he wouldn't find out unless he completed his climb and clambered in the window.
"I guess it's inevitable," he muttered to himself. "I either go up and there or go back down and return to the Palace." Deciding on the former, Xicanti began to calm his mind, trying to implement the plan to conceal his appearance he had decided upon earlier.
Hiding who his father had been wouldn't be too hard; he simply wouldn't tell her his last name. That part of his secret was safe.
It was his appearance that Xicanti really worried about. It was, of course, fairly dark at night, but the boy knew he couldn't depend on that for everything. Mara had taught him the basics of illusions that day, so he had decided to go with that instead. Carefully, the young thief formed in his mind the image he wanted; it was how he had always imagined he looked before, yet with a little less dirt. Of course, it wasn't real, either. Anyone who bumped into him would have been able to tell that, but Xicanti wasn't looking to do any bumping with this girl.
Once again, the young thief took a deep breath. "All or nothing," he muttered to himself, using his arms alone to lift him to the level of the windowpane. Slowly, so as not to startle anyone in the room, Xicanti raised himself up so his eyes were just over the frame, peering into the room.
It was quite a nice room; not at all what the young thief had imagined. A bed was set to one side, near the window, and a desk was opposite it. Shelves containing a large variety of things covered the walls, and a holo system was set up in one corner. Xicanti had thought it would be fancier, yet was not disappointed. It was the room's occupant he had come to see. She herself was sitting at the desk, not more than two feet from him.
Carefully, the he studied her. She was delicate, almost elfin, with long black hair swirling about her waist. Xicanti could not see her eyes, yet had a feeling that they were blue. Her face was partially concealed by the hair, and she was bent low over the desk, apparently writing something.
But Xicanti had not traveled down to the eighth level of Coruscant simply to observe. He had come to visit an old friend who had not yet become a friend. And so, praying that he didn't startle her too badly, he hoisted himself up through the open window and onto the floor of the bedroom.
The girl turned around to face him, giving Xicanti a good view of her facial features. She was most certainly beautiful, her face as elfin as the rest of her body. Her eyes were a bright, glimmering blue, filled with warmth and mirth. Without bothering to asking him what he was doing in her bedroom at midnight, she held out her hand and said with a smile, "Hello!"
Xicanti was startled. He took the offered hand and shook it. He had not? been expecting such a welcome! "H-hello!" he replied.
The girl laughed. It was a lovely sound, light and silvery in its tone. "You look surprised!" she commented. "I wonder why? Perhaps it's because I'm not in the least surprised." She got up from the chair she had been sitting in and plopped herself down on the floor beside him.
The young thief looked at the girl suspiciously. "How did you know I was coming?" he asked her. "Are you a Jedi? Or are you just used to having people leap through your window in the middle of the night?"
Once more, the girl laughed. "I've been expecting you for quite some time," she told him. At his surprised look, she added, "Not you specifically, of course. Just someone interesting. You see, life here isn't very fun. It's all sitting around and that sort of thing. I figured that Fate most likely had something better in store for me, so I've been expecting something interesting to come through that window since I was six years old. Now, nine years later, it's finally arrived." She smiled at the perplexed young thief. "You came in through the window, so you must have at least a few interesting stories to tell. What are you, exactly? A rapist? A murderer? A thief?" She leaned forward. "Am I getting close?"
Dumbfounded, Xicanti nodded. "I'm a thief."
The girl nodded happily. "I figured it would be something like that. Rapists and murderers seem to stay mostly to the alleyways and such, while thieves actually come into houses and steal things. Are you here to steal something right now? We've got lots of good stuff for you to take. You know, valuable ornaments, silverware, those sorts of things. You can pretty much take you pick of what you want. I don't give a damn about any of it. It's just cumbersome and ugly. But worth a fortune."
Xicanti was, by now, starting to warm to this unusual elfin girl, who was so open and inviting. "I wasn't really plannin' on stealin' anything tonight," he told her, "But thanks for the offer, anyways." He reached up to scratch an itch behind his neck; the girl jumped back. She thinks I have a knife back there, Xicanti realized. It was now his turn to laugh. "I'm not reaching for anything," he told her, causing a look of vast relief to cross her face. "Just scratching my neck, that's all. It gets itchy from time to time. You know, the hair tickling it and all."
The elfin girl nodded. "Good. It's not that I'm really afraid of you hurting me," she said, "it's just that I'm afraid of how much it'll hurt, which is kind of weird, since I'm not as hung up on pain as the rest of the word seems to be. That doesn't make sense, I know, but it really would if you were inside my head." She shook the aforementioned head back and forth a little. "But I'm being rude, aren't I? I haven't even told you my name! It's Cahra. Cahra Wolfspeak. At least, that's what I call myself. My father calls me Jessica. I think that everyone should be able to choose their own names, though, so everyone except Dad calls me Cahra. Who're you?"
Xicanti smiled at her. The more she talked, the more he liked this Cahra Wolfspeak. "I'm Xicanti," he told her. "Known to some as Red, to others as 'Hey, you!' and still others as 'You worthless piece of garbage!'" He grinned. "I try not to answer to the last one though. It makes people think they can call me that, an' I don't like 'em to, so I don't encourage it."
Cahra nodded. "I can understand that. I don't think I'd like to be called a worthless piece of garbage either. It would be very degrading, and it'd probably get my self-esteem fairly low. I don't have a terrible amount to begin with, you see, so I have to conserve it carefully." She looked down at the ground, then back up at the young thief. "So, your name's Xicanti? That's an odd one. It sounds Elven or something. I once read a book with a city named Xicanti in it. Is that where your parents got it from?"
Xicanti shook his head. "The book's probably the same one," he replied, "but my parents didn't gimme my name. I picked it myself when I was ten. I thought it'd be an interesting thing to be called."
Copyright 1998, Jadis Darkmore
