This is a short fic, in first person, from the point of view of a character I created a while ago, Thian Maurus. I've put him in a few different stories so far (I can't resist trying different things with a character), but he's always a Force-Sensitive thief who grew up on Nar Shaddaa and gradually started working in other parts of the galaxy. About his personality, you can get the idea by reading the fic. Warning: If you expect something uplifiting and happy, read no further.
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(And a minor note to all in the Dantooine Community RP Project, no, no relation to this character. I just like the name, and decided it would work well for a bodyguard.)
IT IS TO ME
Good news was, we had gotten out just in time. Bad news was, it was "we." It wasn't supposed to be "we," not "us," just me. Me and me alone, like it had always been. And the worst news... the other one of "us" was a frakking Rebel agent who spouted idealism and, strangely enough, regulations, without warning. Ah, well, back to the good news. She was
kind of pretty.
I laughed. I couldn't help it. The Rebels had thought themselves so well-hidden, that their infiltration had been perfect, and the Empire had ripped the idea away in a matter of seconds. Only one of them had gotten out, and she had managed to make it to the ship just as I took off. By the time I noticed her, we were in hyperspace.
"Something funny?" she asked, with an annoyed expression.
What, she couldn't see the humor in the situation? At least for me. A rogue, a loner, trapped with the one kind of person I had always been trying to avoid. I laughed again. Just not one of my lucky days, I suppose.
"Look, lady, I don't know your name, I don't really know what you were doing, and frankly, I don't care," I said. Well, it didn't have anything to do with me. It had been their choice, their job, their test. The fact that they had flunked it royally didn't make it any less humorous.
"You know, we lost a lot of good people in there." Her eyes had narrowed. If looks could kill... well... then she would have been dead herself considering how angry I was when I first discovered her.
"And what the frak am I supposed to do about that?" I asked. Why do people always tell me random bits of useless information?
She didn't respond. Maybe she had finally stopped trying to make me care. I had to give her some credit, though. Most people would have given up long before. Why would
I care, after all? It was none of my business what two warring factions happened to do to each other while they attempted to take over the universe. Besides, I know from previous experience, the galaxy does not cease to be funny when people die any more than it ceases to be serious when they laugh.
And so I laugh. At the Empire, at the Rebels, at my own luck, good or bad. I laugh because I can. Because there is a hell of a lot more humor in this galaxy than most people acknowledge. I'm not trying to change the universe or start a philosophical debate. If you don't like it, well, go off somewhere else and cry to balance things out. I'm not going to stop you.
And it might just be funny in its own right.