Scraping Together the Past, the Future and the In Between: Chapter IX: In ‘the Alternate Universe’

The man's good spirits faded away as the many possible meanings of the message he was just delivered started sinking in. Rila was staring at him with an incredulous look. 'Who was he, the one speaking on the message?' She asked.

'I don't know,' was his plain but truthful answer.

'How could he have known that we are here or anything about us in the first place?' She asked.

'I have no idea,' he answered simply.

When Rila asked her third question 'What are we going to do?' the man only shrugged.

Rila didn't want to stay in the awkward silence the little astromech droid had brought in with its message. After being away for so long she was now back at Coruscant once again. There was much for her to see on this planet. 'I'm going out, there's something I need to see while I'm in here,' she said, not waiting for an answer. She grabbed with her enough credits to pay for an air taxi ride and left for the door. The man didn't ask where she was going, saying nothing but 'Ok' when she walked out. He didn't want to stay confined in this apartment either. He'd have to get out, and maybe do some checking around to help making plans for the future.

The thing that bothered him the most with the near future was the meeting that had been issued for tomorrow in the message. Maybe he would go to check out the place of the meeting before deciding anything else. It might tell him something about the one who had sent him the message, or at least give him some clue where he was heading if he chose to be there for the meeting. The man strapped his blaster under his jacket and picked up the datapad from the table. Then he stuffed all their remaining credits in his pocket. It was not a good idea to leave anything valuable in here unguarded. It would be equally stupid to leave the apartment unprepared, now that someone knew about them.

He wondered again if the information on the bounties and their connection to the Jedi had reached Coruscant. Had Rila given thought to any of this? She sure had, she was a smart woman who knew how to take care of herself. He tried not to ponder too much on where she had gone. It must have something to do with the Jedi; this was after all the place she had been trained in. Focusing his attention back in his own destination, the man checked the coordinates on his datapad. The location where he was supposed to meet with the mysterious message sender tomorrow was not too far from the apartment. It was time to do something to clear out the matter, if even for a bit.

Rila sat on her seat in an air taxi, trying to calm herself down. It was not easy, for she didn't even know what she would see when she reached her destination. Most likely it would be something that she wouldn't like to see, something that would make her heart ache and sadness fill her thoughts. Still she had to see what had happened after the war to the places that were so important to her back then.

The man was standing on one of Coruscant's walkways, on the spot indicated by the coordinates in his datapad. The sign decorating the doorway next to him announced that this particular cantina was called 'the Alternative Universe'. As the man walked in he noticed that it was quite unlike the bars he used to frequent on Nar Shaddaa. 'The Alternate Universe' was spacious, modern and had a wide range of different types of entertainment available to keep its patrons happy. Simply put, this was one of those cantinas that could be classified as 'better'. There were quite a few customers at the bar at the moment, but none of them appeared familiar or particularly suspicious to the man. No one really noticed him entering the cantina or as much as bothered to turn their attention from their drinks, pazaak cards or whatever they were currently focused on. Observing his surroundings, the man walked to the counter where he was greeted by a tall green-skinned nautolan who introduced himself as 'Rigu, the owner of this fine establishment.'

The man ordered a drink and casually asked the barkeeper to tell him about the cantina. The nautolan smiled proudly and most happily gave a speech on the subject he was obviously very fond on. 'Well, 'the Alternative Universe' lives up to its name, it's a place where one can leave behind the boring, mundane problems of the everyday life. You know, at first I thought to name this cantina 'the Expanded Universe'. It would have been fitting as well, considering the fact that in a place like this if anywhere you'll come to perceive the universe around us differently. To understand the life as what it can be and what it should be... But then again, that kind of a name might have caused some unfortunate referential misunderstandings among the officials and such, if you know what I mean... But yeah, back to what we were really talking about. Here you can relax and enjoy the best available beverages, listen to the most talented bith musicians in the galaxy and feast your eyes on the most alluring twi'lek dancers.' Rigu's explanation on his cantina and the description on what it had to offer did not lack in length, detail or the amount of superlatives used. 'We also host challenging and profitable −for those who are skilled of course, −games of pazaak at our tables. Still the thing that I am the most proud of, and for a good reason, is our very own and ever popular swoop track. Swoop races are the most exciting form of sport and gambling if you ask me, and I'm sure you have to agree on that.'

The nautolan's enthusiastic explanation hadn't really informed the man on anything useful or interesting, which he had pretty much anticipated. Still maintaining his casual act he sought to have Rigu talk about something more relevant to him. 'Anything else worth mentioning?' He asked.

The tentacles on the nautolan's head twitched and he gave the man the drink he had ordered. 'Not much, except that you owe me twenty credits,' the alien said gleefully.

The man frowned at the ridiculous price he had to pay for one pathetic juma but paid the barkeeper and picked himself a table from a corner where he could see the whole cantina. Nothing even remotely interesting had happened while he was in the bar. He had not learned anything that he would benefit from in any way concerning the meeting he was supposed to have here, his future on Coruscant or anything at all. His mood sank as his glass emptied and nothing worth a second thought occurred to him. The man went to get another expensive drink for he needed it more than the credits right now. He glared gloomily at the twi'lek dancers across the room. He didn't like the sight, it felt demeaning to him. He had known twi'leks who were intelligent, beautiful in a different way and suited in something so much better than dancing on tables for drooling cantina rats and brainless drunks. He hated the way these wenches reminded him of those he had once known, of her... Hell, he had to have yet another drink.

Returning to his table with his third drink and deciding to forget all about the twi'leks the man chose to instead stare at the swoop track where the racers were practicing for the night's races. He didn't like the swoop races either; they were dangerous and simply stupid. It was waste of life for thrill, money and enjoyment of the mob. Still, people died for both horrible and meaningless reasons all the time everywhere else and the swoop races were in no means the worst thing in the galaxy. He didn't really have anything personal against the races, so having nothing better to do he kept watching the practicing racers lazily, as it helped him to keep his thoughts on the present. Suddenly the man noticed a familiar face appear in the swoop office. Mose Shade seemed to be seriously dismayed about something. The boy had an unhappy grimace on his face and he tapped a hydrospanner against the palm of his hand nervously. The boy spotted the man sitting in the cantina and immediately darted to his table.

'You're in here... Oh, you can't believe it... It was not so cool thing to come to this planet after all.'

The man laughed tiredly. 'Not going so great with you either?'

'Nope,' the boy answered. 'I thought it would be fantastic to race here, but it hardly is when they use those engine accelerators that you have only heard talk about in the Outer Rim. It's just unfair. My bike is good and I'm definitely a good racer, but there's no way to win when the track records have been made with a bike that has the accelerator installed.'

'Why don't you go get yourself an accelerator then too?' The man questioned.

The boy was scratching his head and frowning. 'They are not something that is commonly available to be bought, that's the trick. It's pretty prototype-style stuff still, and some even say the accelerators are not safe. I don't know about that, but they surely ruin a good race, as when one uses an accelerator, he's surely the winner. There's no point in competition and betting gets really stale too. Of course that zabrak back there, Werdak, has to have one on his bike,' Mose explained with anger and frustration.

'So, your pay is getting low too when there is no credits coming from winnings or shares from the betting?' Figured the man unenthusiastically.

'That's how it goes,' Mose admitted. 'Damn, how I hate those accelerators...'

'Then we are both poor and miserable, I guess.' the man grinned ironically. 'Great, isn't it?'

'You have helped me before, couldn't you somehow help me with this too? Wait a minute, I know you could...'

The boy's hopeful outburst was mercilessly interrupted by tired words that had little compassion in them. 'Mose, what are you talking about? This seems a little far fetched, no offence.'

'Just listen, you'd benefit from it too.' The boy's eyes were brightened by confident hopefulness. 'If I'd suddenly win and you'd be one of the few, or maybe the only one betting on me you'd get rich in an instant.'

'And how do you suppose I'd suddenly make you win?' Despite his rather grim mood the man noted that the conversation with Mose seemed to have become somewhat interesting.

'Umm... If you like visited the swoop carage and somehow... accidentally happened to incapacitate the engine accelerator on Werdak's bike,' the boy said half whispering. 'That should do the trick. I'm sure of it, I'm so much better racer than he'll ever be...' The open suggestion of cheating made Mose blush with excitement and slight embarrassment. 'You said you could use more credits, didn't you?' He added.

Mulling over the racer's proposition for a while led to a conclusion that the boy's plan clearly made sense. It was an easy and profitable job not unlike many of those he used to do on Nar Shaddaa. Yet he preferred to help a smart and inventive kid like Mose than the greedy and ruthless characters that usually employed him on the Smuggler's Moon. There was also no denying that he needed credits. If he earned enough tonight, he wouldn't only be in less of a hurry to find himself work on Coruscant but he might also be able to pay some of his rather large debt back to Rila. He wanted to do that, if not for other reasons, then from the demand of the little self-respect he must still have left. 'Ok, I'll do it,' the man agreed. 'But you do your part as well, or I'll certainly be in deep big time.'

Mose's face lit up. 'Really? Thanks a lot!' The boy's expression showed that his nervous anxiety had changed into positive excitement. 'This will be a good arrangement for the both of us, and it's a fair thing to do anyways, you know that it is not right to let someone win only because he has an accelerator...'

'Where's the swoop carage? I'd like to make my visit there as soon as possible. And how do I recognize this zabrak's bike? The man wanted details for the job. He was ready for the job.

'The carage's back there, behind the swoop office. The bike that needs your fixing is the big ugly thing next to my ride. The accelerator is the metallic box-like thing attached to the bike's chassis. There's not much time left before the race begins, so I'd recommend that you get the work done and place your bet. You need a key to get in the carage...'

'I'll slice my way in. You go take a few practice runs with your bike and I'll take care of the competition.'

The man downed the remnants of his juma and left the empty glass on the table, following Mose to the swoop office. The boy stayed at the office checking the current track times and the man proceeded to the swoop carage. The door was easily opened with a security spike, and he entered the empty carage with little trouble. It wasn't difficult to find Werdak's swoop bike either, as the huge monstrous machine managed to stand out among the other bikes in a quite obvious manner. The job was indeed going well so far. The man identified the small metal casing on the bike's chassis as the accelerator, just as the boy had described. All that was needed to disable it was a couple of detached couplings, and the zabrak shouldn't even notice before it was too late to fix the problem and win the race. It was all too easy, the man thought closing the carage's door behind him and returning to the cantina. He placed almost all the credits he and Rila had to bet on Mose as tonight's winner, leaving himself only so much cash to buy a couple of drinks to pass the time. Returning to his table with a new glass of juma the man had little to do but wait. The races were just about to begin and instead of practice runs the first set of official race times was to be turned in soon. Mose better win this damn race. Some amount of uncomfortable doubtfulness crept to his mind no matter how good their little plan sounded. The kid better be at least half the racer he bragged to be, or he would be screwed. Was it possible that he had taken a risk bit too high, and what if it was not just credits he was risking here? The man swallowed what was left of his juma in one gulp and went to get another.

When he sat down at his table once again, this time with a couple of glasses of juma he noticed an unbelievably angry zabrak cursing and kicking his bike at the swoop track. Really nice work from him it was, almost something to be proud of. It was Mose's turn to race next, and he didn't do badly on his part either. The man would have to admit that the boy must have some skill. His time was the fastest of the first round, and although someone topped it in the second round Mose managed secure the winning position with another run. First came the relieved feeling, then the realization that now they were both rich. After the race the man went to collect his winnings at the betting desk, where he met Mose who was cashing out his winner's prize. The boy's grin was wider than ever and his face was glowing. 'This is so amazing! I'm going to be famous on Coruscant too, the whole galaxy will hear from Mose Shade, the fastest swoop racer in the history...'

'Yeah, congratulations, you did well. I think I'll order you a ruby bliel for this,' The man smiled, stuffing his pockets with credits.

'Your little trick worked wonders too, Werdak didn't have a clue what had happened to the acceleration systems of his bike. Wow, how he was pissed off. He didn't even bother to race at the second round,' the boy explained with enthusiasm.

That moment the man noticed that they were the only ones to collect money from the swoop office that night. A few pairs of eyes cast dismayed looks at them, and Mose and the man moved back to the familiar table where they'd celebrate their success a bit less openly and to enjoy of their drinks. Taking a risk did sometimes pay off, and when the rare occasion of this happening occurred after all the recent trouble, the man wasn't at all sorry to be happy about it.

It was already late when Rila arrived at their empty apartment. She was both physically and emotionally exhausted. It had been a trying day, and a sad one indeed. Seeing the locations she had lived in the years back now totally lifeless, echoing only the overpowering emptiness and abandonment felt just devastating. What had happened to the Jedi Order had also happened to its symbols on Coruscant, the Jedi Temple, the education centres, the training grounds. The places that had once been those that mattered to her the most were now in ruins, as dead as most of the ones who used to inhabit them. It was an unbearably sad thing to see, but it was also something that she needed to do. Now, after all this she saw more clearly. Now she knew what was truly important.

At some point the man realized that maybe he should start consider returning to the apartment. Mose had already left and he had stayed in the bar for quite some time before and after their victory celebrations. He finished his last drink and went through his pockets to make sure that the money was still there. The man left his seat at and with a great focus he managed to keep his steps relatively steady as he walked out of the cantina. It was certainly a good thing that the apartment they had rented was not far away. After a somewhat wobbly walk he arrived at a familiar-looking apartment complex. He dug a keycard from his pocket and wondered if their apartment was the number 235... It must have been. He slid the keycard in the door's locking device, which soon responded with a flicker of red light. This wasn't a right door then? Was it 253 then? That's how it had to be. The man sought out the apartment 253 and showed his keycard in the lock. This time he got a yellow light. What was the problem now? He was starting to get annoyed. Getting in one's own apartment shouldn't be so darn complicated, should it? The man pulled the card out and started examining it with his blurred gaze. He had put the key in the lock upside down. 'Idiotic lock,' he muttered and tried once more. The lock signalled green, the door was opened and he was finally able to drag himself in.

The apartment was dark and quiet. The man didn't even switch on the lights but headed straight to his bed. His walk was however rudely interrupted by a table leg, to which he kicked his foot painfully. The man stumbled on the floor, cursing loudly and bitterly. Seeing Rila's belongings on the table in front of him didn't exactly improve his mood. He felt incredibly stupid. She had obviously arrived in the apartment long ago and was now sleeping, well, at least would if he hadn't surely awakened her just few seconds ago. The man ignored his hurting leg and sheepishly crawled in to his bed.

Rila was lying in her own bed with her eyes open. She had wondered where the man had gone and what had taken him so long. She shouldn't have. Of course he had to come back in the middle of the night, drunk as hell. Of course he had to wake her up along with half of the apartment complex's other residents by noisily colliding with furniture and shouting out a particularly colourful and multilingual list of swearwords. This was just fantastic. He'd hear from this, oh yes he would. But now was not the time, it could wait until morning, Rila thought. She turned over in her bed and closed her eyes.