All Night Diner [ completed ]

[James Prent]

"The nerf steak is especially good today." Yes, it isn't crawling with maggots. The petite waitress plucked a stylus from behind her ear to place the grumpy twi'lek's order. He ordered some form of crawly bugs that James didn't have the stomach for. Literally. She smiled, and promised to come back with a refil for his caf mug.

Lounging on the counter in the caf station, the nineteen year old Nar Shadaaian native wished for the umpteenth time that she'd be able to buy her way onto a freighter and get the frell off 'this dren hole of a moon.'

Her mother had taught her nothing before she died, other than the fact that she'd taken the easy way out. Dying in childbirth was the worst kind of cop-out. Way to take responisbility for your actions, mom. James didn't feel any ill-will towards the woman, after all she'd been a disease ridden prostitute. In all reality, her mother had probably done her a favor by dying.

She picked up the caf pot and made her way back out onto the floor. It was two a.m., standard Nar Shadaa time, and it was the middle of her shift.

[Sanis Prent]

The night was young, but I was all out of caf.

I ran the back of my hand against the five o'clock shadow I'd sported between here and Cato Neimoidia. A hop, skip, and a jump away, it seemed.

That was the trouble with living on spacelanes. There was no morning. There was no night. You lived in neverending insomnia. A manic-depressive haze that was some dull shade of grey. You longed for a break in the routine, if only to get enough sleep cycles to find the pattern, before you raised too much hell and had to pull up stakes again.

I'm Sanis Prent. The 100 kilo wall of striped skin and mullet across from me is Cirrsseeto. He's a Cizerack, and he's been my mechanic through feast and famine for the last eight years, give or take a cycle. I don't know exactly how we came to spend the better part of a decade on the same ship, other than it having something to do with a game of Sabacc against a Cizerack matron who'd gotten a terminal case of gamble-madness. She'd lost 4,000 credits, a YV-666 freighter, and her doe-eyed boy toy, who somehow managed to be the bargain of the pot. Everything on the freighter has since broken - twice, and he's been there to put it back together again.

The money? I think there were strippers and body shots involved. Probably drugs too. I don't have money anymore. Never been one to keep it anyway.

In fact, we're broke. I put 50 credits of fuel my freighter - The Layla*. I can pay for the caf, but the only thing I can cover my dinner with is my smile.

Cirr's not eating. He ate on the ship. I didn't eat on the ship. The ship smells like Cirr's cooking. The stuff of nightmares, on a dopa-seed bun and crammed into a waffle iron, smelling of burnt hair, caramels, and liquid smoke.

The waitress passed by, and I waved my empty mug at her.


* = The freighter's name came from this Zeltron I met on Subterrel. I remember there was this trick she would do with a handball and it....well okay that isn't important.

[James Prent]

"Be right with you, handsome." James smiled without really looking at the guy who'd tried to flag her down, and walked on to fullfill her appointment with the twi'lek's caf cup. He looked impatient for his bowl of bugs, but she merely flashed her trademark smile and took the caf pot to the table with the scruffy guy.

...and the huge Cizerack. James filled the mug, and eyed the striped one of the pair. "The bantha steak is especially good tonight, boys. Have you decided yet?"

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

Cirrsseeto Raurrssatta wore a set of dark blue canvas coveralls, with various patches with Aurabesh text sewn on the sleeves and chest. His own name appeared over the left breast, in red script and a little bigger than the other adornments. The entire getup had endured a marinade of engine grease, sublight coolant, and hydraulic fluid, which seemed to remain in the fabric no matter how many wash cycles it got.

The grease stains seemed to follow his striped skin where the coveralls feared to tread, darkening the folds of the skin on his hands and in spots on his face. The only parts of Cirr that seemed clean were the Cizerack's fingertips and the area around his mouth. Even his brown mullet was a day's cycle overdue on shampoo, with a few metal shavings speckled here and there.

He eyed James as she spoke in a way that all Cizerack eyed the opposite sex, intentional or otherwise. His blue eyes ran up her long legs, against her backside, and into the cleft of her cleavage, and then remembered he was out of caf as well.

"No thanks. Just the darrrk stuff."

He pointed a clawed finger casually in Sanis's direction.

"Flyboy's gonna want some chow though."

[Sanis Prent]

"Whatever you say, sweets. Medium well and a side of fried tubers."

A slight movement caught the corner of my eye, causing me to sharply kick a shin under the table. Cirr squinted and his ears flopped back, but he kept his sabacc face otherwise.

The help tonight was cute, and suddenly I wished I'd found a razor this morning. Or a clean shirt for that matter.

"Oh yeah, and the caf too. Top me off."

[James Prent]

James turned her attention from filling the Cizerack's cup, and shook the glass pot lightly. "I'm all out, I'll be right back." She smiled, "Did you want th' vegetables that come with the steak? I'd reccomend against them."

[Sanis Prent]

"If it's free, sure."

I shrugged.

"If its coming out of your kitchen, thats gotta be some gourmet greens."

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

Cirr worked on sipping his caf, almost taking care to look preoccupied with it. While that was happening, his tail found the opening of James's skirt...

[James Prent]

Her grin widened, a slight blush touching her cheeks. "Well it comes with, so that's sort of free."

James noticed she was just standing there, looking at him, and shook her pot. "Be right back." She gave a little jump at the brush of something at the back of her thigh.

She escaped to the refuge of the caf station, where she punched in the order. There was a shout from the kitchen, and a bang that sounded like something being hit with a pot.

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

Cirr waited until she was out of earshot.

"Alphabet game."

He smiled a thin, dangerously toothy smile at his partner in crime.

[Sanis Prent]

My eyes widened, and I leaned forward, a pointing index finger leading the charge.

"No. Not tonight. No more stupid games."

Glancing sidelong, I settled back in my seat.

"Besides, I can't even pay for this crap. I can't worry about trying to pick her up while I'm trying to get her to pick up the tab. No way."

[James Prent]

James peeked around the corner of the station at the guy - they looked to be a pair of grease monkeys from the spaceport. At least, the one did. The human had an adorable smile though.

The bell rang at the counter behind the empty bar to her left, and James scurried over ot pick up the twi'lek's meal. The writhing bowl of wormy things disgusted her, and she dropped it off without much of a word. She looked over at the other two customers, and smiled to say she hadn't forgotten about the caf. Not yet, anyway.

Another twenty seconds, and she was topping off the guy's cup with a fresh pot. "Your steak'll be up in about ten minutes."

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

Cirr sat silent, sipping his caf thoughtfully. He set it aside and made small talk with the waitress.

"Any news around the spaceport a couple of offworlders might like?"

With a split-second glance at Sanis, Cirr returned to James with a casual, friendly smile.

[James Prent]

She shrugged. "Heard that there's a rumor of some big battle by some planet called Endor. Maybe it's a moon. News has been scarce around here for the last few days. The holonet isn't really bringing in anything important - so that means they're probably tryin' to figure out how to spin it before they tell us."

James smiled, "I heard some big-wig on Coruscant got killed. His whole skyhook blew up. A Falleen called Xizor."

[Sanis Prent]

Cirr gave me an expecting look, and I returned him a glower over my caf. Setting it down, I looked back at James.

"Battle at...Endor? Never heard of it. Did hear about Xizor when I was pushing the express outside of Ryloth. Not exactly misty eyed there."

[James Prent]

She shrugged, "Oh well." James tilted her head a little to the side, "So you two are from off-world? Where abouts?"

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

"Carrrshouljis Prrrjime, orrrjigjinally."

Cirr made eye contact as the business end of his tail lined up for approach again.

[James Prent]

She saw the tail coming and backed away. "Yes, originally, but I meant recently, as in 'where are you in from, flyboy?'"

James grinned, "I'll go check on your steak for you." She dropped the caf pot at the station and headed towards the kitchen.

[Sanis Prent]

Exasperated, I raked my stubble across the back of my left hand as I watched her leave.

Once again out of earshot, I leaned twice as far over this time, and grabbed a handful of Cizerack ear.

"Are you trying to get both of our butts on dishwashing duty, Mittens? Stop thinking with your crotch and follow my lead, or I swear on your unwashed socks that I'll straighten your hydrospanner out with your forehead."

I tightened my grip, just in case he couldn't hear and needed explanation in sign language.

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

"OWWWwwwwwwww...."

Cirr exclaimed in a carefully quietening tone as he was wrangled face-first onto the table's surface. Looking about at his awkward setting, he talked to Sanis with a half-smooshed cheek.

"Y'know, thoth are thenthjitjive. Neverrr thjink about that, do you?"

Knowing his own strength, he probably could've ripped Sanis in half and gnawed on his sweet insides, but he was a lover, not a fighter. Besides, for all his skills with a wrench, Sanis ultimately paid the bills. And somewhere, Cirr would admit that he was more of a friend than he gave him credit for.

But not right now.

"Let go pleath? jI'm drrrooljing."