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- #1
The back alley bar in the slums of Chazwa smelled of whiskey and urine, and the combination was nauseating. Jhon didn’t know if it was from the impoverishment or the scum that hung around this area, but he suspected it was a little of both. He kept his nose in his glass of whiskey, trying only to take in its aroma yet still being unable to help smelling the cocktail of decay and suffering in the area.
And the man sitting next to him sure didn’t help. This man was a smuggler, or a mercenary, or something like that. Jhon didn’t know for sure. He didn’t care enough to ask. The one thing he knew for certain here was that the more questions he asked about a person, the more questions he risked being asked of himself. A supposedly dead Jedi Master in Imperial space, even on the far edges of it, was in danger like almost no one else in the galaxy, especially a former Grand Master. If the new Imperial leadership found out that he was alive, and they were able to capture him, the things they would do to him... Their legitimacy as warriors of the dark side would come through tearing him limb from limb.
That was why Jhon, undercover, changed his appearance somewhat. He shaved off his entire beard, and he dyed his hair a light brown, as it was when he was younger. He abandoned his traditional robes and cloak, instead opting for a suit of light body armor covered in a light jacket, a typical smuggler and mercenary type of outfit that would let him blend in. Hanging from his belt was a blaster, a crude weapon for a Jedi, but his lightsaber was hidden in his jacket. He was not about to abandon it completely, and he had the Force with him.
“So, in your line of work, you must hear a lot of chatter about the galaxy, huh?” Jhon asked the man beside him, trying to ignore the stink from the dirt and sweat that covered his ragged clothes.
“Eh, I guess you could say that,” the man said, followed by a belch that nearly made Jhon throw up in his own mouth.
Jhon coughed, trying to suppress a gag, as he said, “I was surprised to hear about a new Emperor. You must be a little worried, seen as how Exodeus’ reign gave you a lot of work opportunities, no?”
“Do I look like a guy who gives a damn?” the man asked. “No, see, whoever’s in power, I couldn’t care less. So long as there’s a war with the Alliance, the work’ll keep on flowin’. I’m the ugly side of the military industrial complex.”
There’s a side that isn’t ugly? Jhon thought to himself before saying, “I wonder what happened to the Empress after Lightell took over. You hear anything about that?”
“So many questions!” the man exclaimed. “If I wasn’t drunk out of my ass I’d probably think you were a fed or something,” the man let out a hearty laugh, which Jhon faked in reciprocation. The man continued, “But yeah, no, I ain’t heard nothing and I don’t care about that Sith whore either.”
All the pent up anger Jhon had been carrying these last few weeks wanted to burst out and grab the man by the throat, but he resisted, instead slamming his fist onto the bar, which got the man’s attention. The man said, “Jeez, buddy, don’t get so upset. Who did you say you were again?”
Jhon stood up from the bar and said, “I didn’t.”
“Suit yourself,” he said.
But Jhon wasn’t done, not yet. He threw a few Imperial credits onto the bar in the direction of the bartender, and then a few more towards the man, for one last question. Bribery was just as important a currency in these parts as the currency itself.
“One last question,” Jhon told him. “I’m looking for information on a Sith called Geist Weiss. Ever heard of him?”
“Look, pal, this ain’t exactly the place you go for Sith info,” the man said. “You want to know about Sith, you gotta head closer to Bastion. We got no Sith around here, at least not many.”
“Thanks for the tip.”
With that, Jhon turned and left the bar, heading back out into the streets. It was raining now, making the stench of the area even worse. The only worse smell than the decay of impoverishment was wet decay. He covered his nose with his jacket, trying to avoid it as much as possible, but was distracted by...something.
He stayed in the doorway for a moment, trying to figure out what it was. There was something nearby, something familiar. It was a presence, a presence he’d not felt since...
Tython.
And the man sitting next to him sure didn’t help. This man was a smuggler, or a mercenary, or something like that. Jhon didn’t know for sure. He didn’t care enough to ask. The one thing he knew for certain here was that the more questions he asked about a person, the more questions he risked being asked of himself. A supposedly dead Jedi Master in Imperial space, even on the far edges of it, was in danger like almost no one else in the galaxy, especially a former Grand Master. If the new Imperial leadership found out that he was alive, and they were able to capture him, the things they would do to him... Their legitimacy as warriors of the dark side would come through tearing him limb from limb.
That was why Jhon, undercover, changed his appearance somewhat. He shaved off his entire beard, and he dyed his hair a light brown, as it was when he was younger. He abandoned his traditional robes and cloak, instead opting for a suit of light body armor covered in a light jacket, a typical smuggler and mercenary type of outfit that would let him blend in. Hanging from his belt was a blaster, a crude weapon for a Jedi, but his lightsaber was hidden in his jacket. He was not about to abandon it completely, and he had the Force with him.
“So, in your line of work, you must hear a lot of chatter about the galaxy, huh?” Jhon asked the man beside him, trying to ignore the stink from the dirt and sweat that covered his ragged clothes.
“Eh, I guess you could say that,” the man said, followed by a belch that nearly made Jhon throw up in his own mouth.
Jhon coughed, trying to suppress a gag, as he said, “I was surprised to hear about a new Emperor. You must be a little worried, seen as how Exodeus’ reign gave you a lot of work opportunities, no?”
“Do I look like a guy who gives a damn?” the man asked. “No, see, whoever’s in power, I couldn’t care less. So long as there’s a war with the Alliance, the work’ll keep on flowin’. I’m the ugly side of the military industrial complex.”
There’s a side that isn’t ugly? Jhon thought to himself before saying, “I wonder what happened to the Empress after Lightell took over. You hear anything about that?”
“So many questions!” the man exclaimed. “If I wasn’t drunk out of my ass I’d probably think you were a fed or something,” the man let out a hearty laugh, which Jhon faked in reciprocation. The man continued, “But yeah, no, I ain’t heard nothing and I don’t care about that Sith whore either.”
All the pent up anger Jhon had been carrying these last few weeks wanted to burst out and grab the man by the throat, but he resisted, instead slamming his fist onto the bar, which got the man’s attention. The man said, “Jeez, buddy, don’t get so upset. Who did you say you were again?”
Jhon stood up from the bar and said, “I didn’t.”
“Suit yourself,” he said.
But Jhon wasn’t done, not yet. He threw a few Imperial credits onto the bar in the direction of the bartender, and then a few more towards the man, for one last question. Bribery was just as important a currency in these parts as the currency itself.
“One last question,” Jhon told him. “I’m looking for information on a Sith called Geist Weiss. Ever heard of him?”
“Look, pal, this ain’t exactly the place you go for Sith info,” the man said. “You want to know about Sith, you gotta head closer to Bastion. We got no Sith around here, at least not many.”
“Thanks for the tip.”
With that, Jhon turned and left the bar, heading back out into the streets. It was raining now, making the stench of the area even worse. The only worse smell than the decay of impoverishment was wet decay. He covered his nose with his jacket, trying to avoid it as much as possible, but was distracted by...something.
He stayed in the doorway for a moment, trying to figure out what it was. There was something nearby, something familiar. It was a presence, a presence he’d not felt since...
Tython.