All That We Are: A Star Wars Story

6

Aldera

          Nasia Plubel glanced to the sky. Twilight fell over the university's clock tower, leaving a soft purple light emitting over the holographic numbers. She had given Belcin's cantina about an hour since opening and continued to glance at the clock, finally deciding that she had waited enough, per Belcin's instructions.

          She stood up from the same hammock that cradled her days ago and walked to the edge of campus. The streets were a bit livelier than they were in the early morning, but it was more comforting than the ghostly silence. Couples walked together hand-in-hand under the glowing streetlamps, smiling at the artists displaying their work outside. Laughter rang out from a group of young students as they entered a small café. The smell of pastries and traditional Alderaanian food outweighed the muffled pounding in her ears from hunger. All it did was make her limbs weaker, but all that aside, it was delicious. Nasia's stomach growled and she placed a hand on her shirt, attempting to mute it – not that anyone else could hear.

          The Jedi pulled her maroon head scarf further over her forehead and brought it up to mask her cheeks. As empty as it was, the bar's alleyway still wasn't as dark or ominous as Coruscant's notorious alleys. In contrast to earlier, the "employees only" door had a small light bulb shining above the frame. Nasia knocked on the door for the second time that day just for her to come face-to-face with the same Twi'lek male from earlier. "Customers have to go through the front." He still wore the same stained knee-length apron.

          "Hey~" Nasia pulled down her mask to show her wide smile. "Remember me? Belcin said I cou-"

          "Oh. Right." He stepped to the side, allowing her to enter.

          It was as if the man had practiced his eye rolls as part of his daily routine, Nasia thought. She stepped inside and glanced around at the scarce kitchen equipment around her.

          "Belcin is on duty at the moment. I'll let her know you're here."

          "Okay! So, what should I do while I-" Before she could finish, the Twi'lek exited the kitchen, leaving her alone with the few other cooks who were too busy to notice her. "Alright," She whispered, passing her eyes over the rest of the room. She sniffed the air. Her stomach growled in pain again. It was probably the worst place to be at the moment. "Oh!" The Mirialan's brown eyes widened, thinking back to the pouch of credits in her pack.

          Nasia then followed far behind the Twi'lek, ready to push the swinging door open as Belcin showed up on the other side to immediately shove her back. "Are you a laser-brain? I thought Kallon told you to stay here,"

          "That guy?" Nasia pointed out the door. "He didn't say anything about staying here."

          Belcin huffed. "Come with me," She pulled Nasia's mask up further, covering her tattoos, and laid a hand on the small of the Mirialan's back, leading her to one of the closed rooms in the cantina. The crowd was lively, sure, but nothing compared to the bars she had been to. 79's on Coruscant was the best, in her opinion. When the council had to show her holophotos of herself from that night and reprimand her for "representing the Jedi Order in an unresponsible manner", you knew it was a night well spent.

          The door slid shut behind the women and left them in a small, dimly lit room. The heart-thumping music became muffled as this room didn't seem to have any sounds of its own at the moment. Though, she could barely make out speakers behind the glare of neon lights protruding from the corners and noticed a cloaked figure sitting at the table in the center.

          "General Plubel?"

          Nasia paused. The dark form turned in their seat to face her, but their features were unrecognizable. Even if the room was completely illuminated, she wouldn't have recognized them. Their voice was like a glowing ball of light, a soft yellow that managed to burn with passion in the most delicate way possible. It was similar to the paternal tone she was so used to hearing before, the one that she was deprived of for the past few days. "What is this?" Her words became guarded as she turned to Belcin.