Pass Me a Brewski, Grand Master

[StandbyRanger]

Salis D'aar, Bakura, Wild Space
5:45 PM, Local Time​

"Welcome to Silver Lining, what will it be," the gruff voiced Kurtzen bartender asked his newly arrived patron. Rane eyed the shelf stocked to the brim with various bottles of alcohol. He wordlessly pointed out a a square-shaped bottle filled with brown liquid, and the bartender poured a fifth of whiskey. He slid it to Rane, which in turn gave him the credits plus a tip. The bartender smiled happily then went back to cleaning glasses as Rane took a seat in one of the booths by the window. Though the sun was still hanging in the sky, the inner district's blue-white lights were still strong.

Rane had been called to Bakura by none other than the Grand Master himself. They agreed to meet at this bar, as Master Novan apparently had some official Jedi business to discuss with the Knight. It was strange, as Rane never pegged the Grand Master as a drinker. The stress of the position could warrant a turn to drinking, however.

The Knight sighed. If anything, this meeting was important. A few drinks followed by a speech, most likely. Rane couldn't help but feel a little on-edge, however. It wasn't everyday the leader of the Jedi called to talk.

 

[TAC]

It seemed that more and more Larik found himself in some bar in some backwater world to meet with a Jedi. They were convenient places to meet, and quite usually people minded their own business at these sorts of establishments. Poking around in other people's business usually ended with blasters to the face, and so folks tended to keep to themselves instead of inviting a fight. For one of the most wanted men in the galaxy, discretion was appreciated greatly.

And on the other hand, while he certainly would not consider himself a drinker, what good Corellian would pass up a chance at a taste of him?

The New Jedi Order Grand Master approached the shop at an easy pace, the Sundance Maiden locked up in a hanger just a few minutes walk away. Jedi Knight Vastra, a man Larik hadn't had a whole lot of interaction with before, sat starring out the window. Larik gave him a smile and nod. Entering the bar, Larik slapped some credits down on the booth. "Corellian Ale - thanks." It was a short interaction, and the greying Corellian took his hard liquor to the window seats where Knight Vastra was sitting.

"Rane, good to see you," the Grand Master said, casually, lifting his drink as he slid into a seat next to the man. Larik gazed carefully out the window at the busy street, allowing the Knight to offer his own greeting. "We can be brief, and I appreciate you meeting with me on such short notice," the man said, stopping to take a large swig. "Things are a bit crazy now. Endor left many of us at odds, and Naboo was quite an excitement." The man smiled into his drink. "Almost too much of an excitement."

Turning to the Jedi Knight, Larik regarded him closely, "I'm checking in with as many Jedi as I can - to make sure everything is well and see if they have any concerns I might be able to alleviate. You were next on my list." Larik smiled and nodded, as if indicating Rane should pick up on that note, and took another long pull on his drink.

 

[StandbyRanger]

Naboo... The planet now left a sour taste in Rane's mouth. There was too much death, too much pain concentrated in one place. Sure, Rane thought nothing of it while "down in the trenches," fighting the good fight, fighting to make the galaxy free once more. Now, however, he could see it was his sense of duty and the adrenaline pumping through his blood that kept him from being broken by that day. It was his first taste of true combat, his first taste of what the war actually was, and Rane wasn't sure whether or not he wanted to see it again. Especially not after losing The Melonie, and Artoo...

Rane's eyes shut for a brief moment as the images of his burning ship flying away, with Artoo at the helm, passed through his mind:

The Knight was back in one of the gardens at Theed palace, having just been shoved out of The Melonie by his own astromech droid. As Rane scrambled to get up, he could just barely hear Artoo in his earpiece over the sounds of death and war.

-Rane, get going, you need to get into the palace. I'll take the ship and hide out somewhere the TIEs can't find me-

"No, no! Forget the ship," Rane yelled back, "The TIEs will be here any second,!"

-Exactly, and they still think there's a Jedi on-board- The Corellian freighter began to pull away as the telltale screech of incoming Imperial fighters began to get closer. -If I can draw them away, that'll buy time for you, and distract these guys from the battle upstairs. We can buy the Rebels some time and keep a squadron out of the battle for a bit-

"Who cares about one squadron! They've got so many more," he began to run to the edge of the garden, futilely trying to chase down his best friend, "Artoo!"

-I'm sorry, Rane- The TIEs closed in, and unleashed a barrage of laser fire on the limping freighter -I'm so-- ~ One of the bolts made contact with the cockpit, cutting off Artoo, and spreading a fire that spewed out of every orifice on the ship. Rane watched in horror as whatever was left of his ship, and best friend, spun out of control and crashed into the cliff-side, exploding into a brilliant light.

The Jedi's eyes slowly reopened. He was back at the bar, the Grand Master across from him. He took a large gulp of his whiskey, nearly half, and the liquid burned as it coursed down his throat. Rane looked at Larik, a facade of a smile across his face.

"Good to know you still care about the little people," Rane jested, "I'm fine, Master Novan." He wasn't.

"But, something still vexes me...," Rane played with his glass, swirling what was left of the brown liquid around, "What the hell happened at Endor? I mean, from what I hear, we nearly tore ourselves apart. How does that happen? How could we let it happen?"

 

[TAC]

Endor. How often Larik found his conversations dominated by the events of what had led to his becoming Grand Master. Truly, it wasnt any fun. Ebberla had been a friend for longer than he could remember and Von one of his closest allies and partners in the more life-or-death situations than he cared to count.

Even after Larik had pushed the Order back into the galaxy, leading them towards re-expanded interaction with their allies and fighting the Imperium, even after NABOO, the wuestions continued coming. Larik had long ago realized that this would forever be an asterisks next to his name, a conversation and a memory he could never escape. He knew, too, that the wound that Endor had struck the Order had not yet healed.

And so the conversations continued.

"Our frustrations have been a long time building, the Corellian responded after a moments pause. He leaned back in his seat, looking down at the drink in thought before setting the drink on the counter.

"Master Daw had always done her best for the Order. She cared deeply, and had always the Order's best interests in mind." Deciding the drink actually was in Order, he grabbed it and took another swig. "But people disagreed with what we were doing. Disagreed with her personal life. And while they might have gone about it in a way more conducive to the Order, Ebberla did not react like she should have. They delivered their concerns and she resigned without even a response." The man sighed to himself as the memory came back to him.

"She left and wouldnt turn back. I tried. And that created a power vacuum which brought about all sorts of wild accusations. Personalities butted heads and we saw the ugliest head ive ever seen the jedi rear."