First Star on the Left (Open)

Corellia, one of the jewels of the Core Worlds, its gleaming spires and uplifting vistas surpassed only by those of Coruscant itself, whilst its charming folk and energetic nightlife went far beyond that which you might find on the throneworld of the departed and hardly-missed Emperor.

At least, that's what Irulan had been told.

At the time, she had been desperate enough to go anywhere. Her homeworld, Alsakan, was a dead world, a world living on the memories of glories it had never quite managed to achieve. An ecumenopolis like the galactic capital, it had always seemed a poor mirror of the wonders that had appeared on the holonet whenever Coruscant's sparkling skyline had been shown on the holodramas, and perhaps she hadn't been the only child of the dying world to imagine this, for the people of Alsakan were bitter and hard worn, and oft inclined to spit whenever forced to speak the hated name of their homeworld's ancient rival. It was like the dying soul of the world was dragging its peoples' spirits down into the hells alongside it.

And Irulan hadn't been willing to condemn herself to that.

So, she'd done what she needed to do to make a few coins. Waiting tables in cantinas, running errands for those who had the need and the credits, even a little petty theft when the eyes of the Imperial occupiers were elsewhere. Hardly the most well paying of tasks, but, with a little perseverance and more than a little time, she'd managed to earn enough to feed herself and leave a few credits in her purse. And that just left two questions; where to go, and how to get there. The first had been answered in a rundown, grotty little cantina one night where, whilst dodging between roving hands and serving dirty mugs of frothing ale, she overheard a freighter pilot, deep into his mugs and more than a little homesick, rambling about the virtues of his beloved homeworld to any who might spare an ear and a moment. To hear someone talk of their birthplace so fondly, with such bittersweet longing in their voice, stirred something in Irulan, for such sentiment was as alien to her as the few creatures from distant stars that passed through Alsakan's rundown spaceports. In a moment, her decision was made, and that left just the problem of how to reach the all too distant world.

In the end, that too was simple enough; a journey through the spaceport found, amongst the usual array of tramp freighters and cargo haulers, an ancient passenger liner that had surely seen better decades. Idly, Irulan had run her gaze across the destinations etched in the pockmarked hull of the ancient starship. Alsakan. Terminus. Etti. Ryloth. A blackened mark that might once have been Alderaan. Coruscant.

And Corellia.

Her heart stopped and she froze, unable to believe what she was seeing. Could it be? Was the galaxy truly smiling upon her? Uncertainly, almost stumbling, she made her way across to the burly, bearded man who stood beside the ramp, bellowing out the luxuries that supposedly waiting within. He noticed her as drew near, and ran a speculative glance across her, studying both her clothes and the figure beneath, before shaking his head. "Don't reckon you could afford a birth, darlin," he drawled, something of a smirk touching his lips beneath the grubby beard, "Better looking at one of those piles, eh?"

She'd expected as much. Fare for a journey across the stars wouldn't be cheap, Irulan knew that. Knew that the paltry coins she'd earned wouldn't be enough. But though her heart sank she didn't turn away. "Do you need crew?" she asked, forcing a tremor from her voice as she stared up into the man's eyes, "Maids for the passengers? Cooks?" It was a longshot for sure, but she was so close, and perhaps the ship's droids would be in as poor a state as the liner itself. If they were, they'd definitely need more crew to replace them, and even if they weren't, there was always some people who weren't comfortable around droids.

For a long moment, the man stared at her, his expression unreadable. And then, slowly and deliberately, he spoke. "What're you running from? Were a law abiding lot aboard this ship. Don't want no trouble with the Imperials." His carefully chosen words fooled nobody, least of all Irulan, but she simply shook her head. "I'm not running from anything," was her emphatic answer, "I just want to get to Corellia. I'll work for food and passage."

That got his attention. "Food and passage?" he echoed, one hand stroking his beard thoughtfully, "No pay?" He eyed her speculatively a moment, then, as she nodded, allowed a smile to spread across his dirty features. "You've got a deal, lass. We're leaving at dusk. Say your goodbyes and get back here for then, or we'll leave you on this dirtball."

"Got no-one to say goodbye to," Irulan had murmured as she turned away, but the words weren't for the man's ears and she ignored his response as she moved away down the street, thoughts already turning toward the bright future that was finally taking shape before her.

Two months. That's how long it took for the 'luxury' starliner Jewel of the Stars to reach Corellia. For Irulan, that was two months of constant work. Two months of being pleasant to grotesquely arrogant minor nobles and traders. Two months of cleaning and pressing clothes when the autovalet blew a fuse. Two months of cooking meals when the dispensers decided ratatouille needed to be made with fresh womprat. In truth, it was the hardest two months of her life, although thoughts of what to come made it easier, and when she flopped into her bunk late each night, it was with a contented sigh and a smile upon her lips. Because she was on her way. Because Corellia awaited her.

Each night, as sleep descended upon her, she allowed herself to imagine the life that awaited her on that distant haven, and, when consciousness departed, she dreamed of the gleaming cities her mind had built around the stories she had overheard back on Alsakan.

Had she known just how different reality was from her dreams, she might well have jumped ship at the first starport.

But the Force, that power that lay beneath all things, has a twisted sense of humour, and it was not until Irulan was pressed up against a viewport, gazing wide-eyed at the approaching cityscape as the Jewel descended toward the spaceport of Coronet City, that she began to get the first inkling that perhaps the spacers' homesickness might have led them to embellish their tales of their homeworld. Oh, certainly she could she the sparkling towers reaching up toward the heavens, and the wide, tree-line promenades, but equally could she see the rows of dilapidated prefab structures that stretched away from the starport, interlaced with a rats' run of narrow alleys and paths.

"Everything you imagined?" inquired a voice from close behind, eliciting a gasp from the startled girl. Whirling, she found herself meeting the amused gaze of the ship's Captain, Jaq Daek, before he stepped past her and turned his own eyes down toward the rapidly approaching city. "I can't see it myself," he muttered, "But then, never been much of a mudlover. Born in space, an' I'll die there too if there's any justice." Pausing, he glanced back at her, adding, "Got a place here for you, if you want it. Same duties. Pay's decent enough."

Surprised - the Captain hadn't said more than dozen words to her since their first encounter in Alsakan's spaceport - Irulan hesitated. It was true that Coronet didn't seem to be everything she'd dreamed it would be, and life aboard the Jewel, hard as it was, certainly wasn't unpleasant, but... she couldn't accept. Poor shadow of a dream as it was, Coronet was calling to her. "Sorry," she offered, smiling softly even as she shook her head ruefully, "I think I need to be here, at least for a bit."

It seemed the Daek had expected the answer, for he nodded in understanding even as he continued to stare out the viewport. For a long, almost uncomfortable, moment he was silent and then, just as Irulan was starting to turn away, he spoke again. "Offer'll stay open, till we leave port at least."

Murmuring her thanks, Irulan turned away and made her way through the narrow corridors of the ship, dodging around passengers as she headed back to her own cramped quarters. There, her meager possessions waited, having been carefully stashed in her battered pack hours previously. And beside them rested a small surprise, a small synthleather pouch containing a small credchip a note scrawled upon a scrap of flimsy that read simply 'Wages for good work. Think about the offer.' The note - and the Captain's general persistence - drew a laugh from the girl, and she wore a grin on her face as she stowed the pouch in a pocket and slung her pack across her shoulder, before turning on her heel and heading for the departure ramp.

Corellia awaited her.

The distance between Alsakan and Corellia was beyond the comprehension of a human mind, and yet the two worlds differed so little that Irulan might almost have imagined that her homeworld was a forgotten twin of Corellia, a sixth brother lurking in the shadows. Leading from the spaceport was a street almost identical to the one she had trod as she left Alsakan, lined with the same prefab structures and rickety stalls that wouldn't have seemed out of place in the trader's bazaar.

But the people, oh, the people were so very different.

There were more of them, for one thing, and each and every one of them, from the traders clad in shimmersilk and fur down to the rag clad beggars, with a grace and certain sense of haughty pride that would have seemed entirely out of place amongst the bitter-hearted denizens of Alsakan. Yet it was not these regal mirrors of her own kin that most held Irulan's attention, but rather the aliens. There were dozens of them, beautiful red skinned zeltrons and lithe Twi'leks, towering Trandoshans and diminutive Sullustians, and a hundred more species the untraveled girl hadn't even seen on holopicts.

Wide-eyed, she stared about herself, drinking in the exotic scenes as they played out upon the dusty street with wonderment apparent in her gaze, little imagining that she was marking herself out so obviously as outsider and, more sinisterly, a target. The truth became apparent after but a few seconds when a shove caught her square in the back, sending her reeling unsteadily forward. Even as she stumbled she felt a hand grab at her pack, trying to snatch it away with the same vicious movement. Alas for the would-be thief, the pack was not merely clutched between Irulan's fingers, but was instead slung over her shoulder, meaning that the sharp tug upon the material did naught but arrest her movement, leaving her free to whirl and face her assailant.

Or, at least, to face the place where she imagined they'd been but a heartbeat previously, but which was now only occupied by the swirling, anonymous crush of the crowds. Whoever it had been who'd tried to take her bag, they'd been experienced enough to realise when things weren't going to plan.

Her heart pounding fiercely in her chest, Irulan let her eyes drift nervously across the nearby crowd. Was the thief still close? Would they try again? Perhaps not. Perhaps her little bit of good fortune would be enough to persuade them to try an easier target, one that wasn't expecting them. Certainly, there'd be enough such people around - Irulan knew she couldn't be the only traveller to come to Corellia with naive and unrealistic expectations. Yet the knowledge that her assailants would likely go elsewhere did little to calm the girl, and she lingered a moment, one hand pressed lightly to her chest as she considered her options. Getting off the streets had to be the first thing. She needed a few moments away from the bustle to compose herself, to acclimatise her mind to how different Corellia was from the gleaming utopia she'd imagined. But where? She had little enough coin, and most places would surely want more than a fair share of it.

And then she saw the sign.

It was a tiny thing, not more than a foot square, but it more than made up for its size with its garish, neon opulence. Flashing rapidly between brilliant green and blazing orange, it hung just above a narrow door which, if the sign could be believed, led into the Spacer's Rest. It wasn't a particularly welcoming looking place, but, well... to Irulan's uneasy mind, there wasn't anywhere on Corellia that was.

So, figuring the cantina was as good an option as any she was likely to find, the girl began to pick her way through the crush of the crowd, carefully holding her pack tight against her body as she did so. She made slow progress, with few in the crowd seeming inclined to make her short journey any easier than they had to, and only her slight frame allowed her to slip through the throng at all. Eventually however, she found herself standing before the door, which slid smoothly open as some hidden senor divined her presence. Beyond, the cantina was gloomy, with clouds of cigarra smoke coiling up toward struggling extractor units in the ceiling and the dull beat of alien music pulsing through the air. A massive fur-covered creature was sprawled across much of the entrance way, its pelt foul with spilt drinks, and Irulan found herself eyeing it warily as she stepped across the threshold into the cantina.

Pausing just inside, she let her eyes adjust to the comparative gloom. It took but a few heartbeats, yet in that time she felt like everyone in the cantina was watching her with impunity. It was, as sensations go, an unpleasantly unnerving one.

Yet as her eyes adjusted and she cast a glance across her surroundings, she found not a single pair of eyes resting upon her. In truth, most of the patrons seemed to be taking special care to keep their gazes firmly fixed upon their drinks, and those few that weren't were instead letting their eyes flicker little quicksilver across their surroundings, seeming almost as uneasy as Irulan herself. That thought, strangely enough, was just a little bit reassuring, although the girl couldn't truly explain why. Perhaps it was just because there was some small amount of comfort to be taken in knowing she wasn't alone in her discomfort. Regardless of the reason, it was enough to stir her into motion, and she stepped softly across to the bar, hoping to catch the bartender's eye so that she might turn a few credits and something to wash away the dust of the trail.

The machine seemed to mock him, trickling out the alcoholic liquid slower and slower as the queues lengthened. It wasn't even two hours until last orders and he was already sweating under the heat from the bar lighting.

The crowd of drunks and wishing-to-be drunk were rowdy and eager to be served, it was a bloody shame his co-workers had picked tonight to come down with a case of Tarisian flu. He was a man alone in the midst of a sea of ill tempered, well armed, alcoholics and it was his first night on the job.

You'd think that, given his previous self-employment in a less than...legal area of cargo haulage, that his fortunes would have picked up since the Empire's stranglehold had been loosened upon the Galaxy. You would think that, but you'd be wrong. Since then Nik had lost his ship, his savings, his self respect and a finely inscribed bronzium flask that his mother had bought him for his birthday. It seemed no matter what plot or scheme he conceived to change his fortunes were doomed to failure by a higher power.

"Can we get some service over here?"

"Hey, Human! Where's my drink!?"

"Slowest. Service. EVER!"

"Do you have any other gears above...say, crawl?"

Nik felt the muscles at the back of his neck tense with every yell, scream and insult. A vein on his temple practically bulged as he clenched down on retorts, his teeth grinding together and then snatched the glass from the machine so quickly that the head of misty fog atop the purple concoction was swept away.

"Three credits. NEXT!" He barked at the Rodian. He took the money, ripped open the till drawer and slammed it shut in one rage filled motion. The surge of motion from the wall to wall bodies to be served next was frightening, like at any moment the tidal wave of bodies would crash over the modest defence that the bar provided.

"Big guy! What's your poison?" He asked a Wookiee, the animal snarled at him in its native tongue and Nik rose an eyebrow before grabbing a drinks menu and sliding it onto the bar. The sentient got the message and tapped a drink from the list.

The rest of the night was no less stressful but after an hour of nerve shredding order taking the crowds thinned and he slumped onto a stool. The Corellian wiped a rag across his forehead and dabbed at his brown hair before pouring another whisky. It was technically stealing but the way he saw it, after that trial by fire he had earned a few on the house.

"Gods above, below and side to side...how do law abiding people do this every day?" He exhaled after swallowing a mouthful and then looked up to see a girl peering over the bar at him.

"What'll it be?" Rillians asked as he came from his seat to stand in front of her.

Although the outlying areas of the cantina were quiet, the bar at the heart of it was as busy as any that Irulan had ever served at. Sentients pressed against the narrow stretch of stained metal that separated them from alcohol enough to satisfy the most gluttonous of alcoholics, jostling against one another whilst clamoring for the attention of the barman, a young human with the flush of fiery liqueur in his cheeks and a vein bulging dangerously in his forehead. He was moving quickly, slamming drinks down on the counter and snatching money from hands with fluid gestures, but he couldn't hope to move fast enough for the drunken hordes.

Nonetheless, he eventually cleared space enough to earn himself a moment's respite - a moment he spent gulping down a mouthful of some vile smelling concoction from a shot glass - and as that moment waned his eyes, soft brown orbs which sang a ballad on weariness, met hers.

"What'll it be?"

His voice was the trailing drawl that betrayed him as a native of Corellia, and Irulan found herself offering him a slight smile as she slipped onto one of the precarious stools that ran down the length of the bar. "How about a Rush?" she asked, forcing just a little insincere cheer into her voice as she named the carbonated drink. Truth be told, it was far from her favourite drink, but she figured it'd be safer than most drinks on offer given that it came in a sealed can. "S'it always so busy here?"

Casual conversation couldn't hurt, right? Besides, she knew the credits in her pouch couldn't last too long. Sooner or later she'd need a job, and what was the harm in laying the groundwork nice and early?

"Rush it is." Nik replied with his best attempt at a customer service winning smile, although if the girl recoiled in disgust he wouldn't blame her; it had been one hell of a night. He bent down to the small refrigeration unit set under the shelves of the more pricey drinks and retrieved the chilled can.

"Wouldn't know, first time in the place and my first night on the job." He responded as he placed the can and a clean glass before her. "That'll be a credit." The haggard barman looked up and down the bar, no one was vying for his attention so he leaned his elbows on the bar top and began the idle barman banter. "What brings you to Coronet?"

Sliding a couple of credits across the bar - the clean glass simply had to be worth the extra cost - Irulan smiled up at the bartender. "A ship," she answered brightly, mirth dancing in her eyes as she made the quip.

While the Corellia considered her response, she broke the tab on the can of Rush, letting the brilliant crimson liquid froth up over her fingers for a moment before beginning to pour it into the glass. "Just came here lookin' for somethin' different," she continued, setting the now empty can down on the bar, "People kept tellin' me that this was the place to be, y'know? That all the legends started here, and there was some great story playing out on every corner."

She paused, glancing down at her drink as she took the first sip, then took a moment to savour the fruity taste and the bizarre sensation of the bubbles fizzing down her throat. As the fizzing began to fade away, she set the glass back down on the bar, raising her gaze back to the barman's as she added, "Guess that sounds kinda silly, huh?"

Rillians was never one to look a gift bantha in the mouth and pocketed the excess as he rung up her order. "I hear those are all the rage." He responded as the till closed with a clatter of coin and he moved the few steps back to his leaning spot.

A dark brow rose involuntarily as she explained and he looked down one end of the cantina, where a sleeping Rodian snored loudly and then to the other which was just as entertaining before the other eyebrow joined the first and his expression enquired "Really?"

"Funny thing that, three years ago I thought the same about out there." Nik replied, pointing in a vaguely skyward direction. "Packed up my gear, found a sexy smuggler, jumped on her ship and never looked back. Its funny how fortunes can change." A mixture of frustration and longing escaped his lips in a sigh as he picked up the empty can and with a half turn chucked it in a near by bin.

"Its never silly to dream, you just need a little luck and some daring to make it happen." The Corellian smiled. "You'll do all right."

Irulan couldn't help but notice the speculative quirk of an eyebrow, and the doubtful glance down the length of the bar that followed, but it didn't surprise her. Why would it? She'd already admitted to herself that the Corellia that surrounded her was entirely different from the fable-spun utopia of her dreams, so why would that fact the others had seen through the dreams and the hyperbole come as a revelation to her? No, she accepted his doubts with good humour, smiling into her drink as she took a sip of the fizzy liquid.

And yet a moment later, when the man spoke again, the humour seemed to evaporate like spirits on the bar, replaced by a kind of wistful regret that seemed entirely at odds with his previous attitude. "Never looked back?" she echoed, raising her eyebrows in silent inquisition. It certainly sounded like he was looking back, like he was doubting the choices he'd made, the steps he'd taken to put him on the path he now trod.

Irulan could understand that; the same doubts were starting to gnaw at the edges of her mind, demanding to know if she thought she'd done the right thing, to know if she thought she could survive alone when she was so very far away from home.

It didn't do for bar staff to be seen doing nothing and so, like every surly barman he'd ever seen in a holoflick, he picked up a glass and a semi-clean rag (Cleanliness being a matter of a opinion) and proceeded to drag the material over it as he pondered how best to answer.

It was true that he'd never looked back and now that he was back home it wasn't something he was proud of. He'd forgotten about them, his friends and family as easily as you forget the name of a girl that you met one night in the cantina after one too many shots of something-or-other. You wake up the next morning, roll over ,and there she is looking at you with a smile, fully expecting her name to fall seductively from your lips but all you can think is "Oh, shit...".

It was only when the adventure ended, that the fun and excitement was stripped away, did he realise that the only place he wanted to be was home. In the end, when the universe kicks in our teeth, all we really want- right in the very depths of our soul, is to have a cry, get a hug from mum and sleep in our own beds. Nik wanted to be safe, if only for a little while.

You can't miss what you've never had but absence makes the heart grow fonder and Nik Rillians had had it. He'd had laughter and joy, anger, pain, sadness and sorrow. He'd been punched and kicked, bit and stabbed, shot and blown up, fought and ran. He had seen wonder and felt horror. The stars were his and he wanted them back so badly.

All through his thoughts, his recollections of adventures past, his hand had been rhythmically rubbing the glass. It now shone, as bright as any star, and was cleaner than it had been since it rolled off the factory floor.

"Not until I had no way to go forward," He replied and then waved the discussion away like a bad smell. "This isn't how it works darlin', you're supposed to tell me your troubles not the other way around."

As the man spoke, his thoughts obviously far away, his hands continued their cleaning motion, wiping around the glass again and again under the tarnished container was gleaming like crystal. Irulan watched him silently, unwilling to break the spell memory have woven over the bartender, until at last the man seemed to recall where he was and the distant glaze faded away as he snapped back to reality and tried to wave away his words with a smile and a shake of his head.

"This isn't how it works darlin', you're supposed to tell me your troubles not the other way around."

She had to smile at that, but the smile was accompanied by a rueful shake of the head. "I'm lucky," she answered, "I've got no real troubles." That was true enough; she had no real problems, just a couple of minor concerns, like where to sleep and how to eat. Serious enough in some people's eyes perhaps, but Irulan knew she'd get by.

She always had.

"One mans trouble is another mans annoyance, or woman as it stands." He replied and flipped the glass upside down before sliding it back on a shelf with its comrades.

The snoring Rodian awoke with a snuffling start and peered around the room like he wasn't quite sure where he was. Sliding off the stool the grey skinned sentient waved a sucker fingered hand and Rillians half heartedly responded.

"Almost that time." He said looking to the chrono on his wrist and at the dwindling die hards milking the night for all it was worth before he set about gathering empty glasses that were within arms length.

"Got a place to crash, dreamer girl?" He asked, wondering why it had never occurred to him before and then considered how it sounded. "Not that I'm coming onto you or anything and not that there's anything wrong with that, I mean you're pretty eno-" He caught himself and silently commanded that he shut the hell up and start again.

"For all the tales, Coronet is like any other place in the Galaxy. Its big and its dangerous if you don't have a place to bed and don't know where not to be after a certain hour."