Control The Uncontrollable // The Acolyte

29. The Devil In The Bar

Weeks becomes months, and somehow over time your wounds had started to grow.

Most of your time had been spent with your once idol, but now friend, Master Elzar. He was different from most people in the order, more human. He was wise, and would often enlighten you with his wisdom. Due to being friendly with him, you had gotten closer to Master Kriss and your favorite... Master Gios, who no longer seem to despise you, but is far from embracing you. Master Gios rather pick up a discussion with you every time you open your mouth, than let peace convey. But being around Elzar circle wasn't bad. They were more in tune with themselves, settled. Elzar had even invited you on to missions, where you would share a glass, or five of what you used to call poison in the past. Things were good with them.

But with Master Yord... It was safe to say that you had found it highly difficult when you were asked by the council to work together with him again. You did not hold a grudge over him, it wouldn't be fair, but it was difficult. Him and Master Sol had not spoken to the council about the discovery of the mission, and deep down you were hurt by their lack of support when the Council chose to put you under restrictions due to using the Holocron. Their support could've softened the blow, but they rather saved their own honor, than your life.

So the second the duty of the day was done, you ran to the closest bar in town. The council had chosen to station you on a Jedi post together with Master Yord, his Padawan Tasi and a couple of other knights and their Padawans. You were the only one who hadn't a Padawan. Not that you felt like you needed one at this moment. You, unlike Yord, had actually had a Padawan in the past. Bell was his name. He was already a knight, and yet another reminder that you should've been Master by this point. You looked down at the bottle, seconds ago it was full, so someone must have drank from it. You looked up at the bartender, and snapped your finger.

"Another- another one of these-, please?" Your words fell out, like a little child trying to formulate full sentences for their first time.

The bartender came walking over to you, shaking their head.

"C'mon!" You waved your hand frustrated. You hadn't even had that much.

"You are wasted, and you haven't paid up from last week," the bartender pointed out.

You lifted your eyebrows. Really? This was just about credits? You had a ton of credits!

Your hands digged down into your pockets. Of course, you could not be known as a Jedi in these parts of the galaxy. They would never allow you in, but Elzar had taught you some tricks. Change your clothes, leave the lightsaber and pay for others drinks - especially the bartender.

Accidentally, the credits fell out of your pockets, falling all over the floor. You looked shocked down at the floor, holding a hand in front of your lips. You could already hear the bartender sigh, as he walked around the bar. You leaned down to the ground, and began to pick up all the credits. Suddenly you could see a pair of shoes in front of you. You already knew it was the grumpy bartender, he was an Arcona, a race you didn't find many of here in mid rim. You collected the money and placed it in the Arcona's hand. You were still on your knees, laughing, when he pulled you up by your arm. Oh, he was still not happy?

"You need to go," he warned you.

"I gave you more than enough credits to cover drinks for the whole bar, twice!" You snapped your fingers at him, and he instantly grabbed your other hand.

"No one taught you manners, to not snap at someone? I do not care that you paid for the whole bar, I'll keep the money-" he began, you frowned.

"Hey, that's not fair," you sobbed, confused by his action.

"What are you gonna do, call the Jedi on me?" The Arcona laughed at you.

Oh, the irony of his words. You began to laugh, as you pointed your finger at his nose, or whatever looked like a nose on his face. God, you hoped it was his nose.

"Actually-" you began, but you had pissed off the Arcona one too many times.

You felt your feet lift from the floor, and maybe it was just the alcohol that spoke fear until your existence, but you were already prepared for the fall, no matter how ugly it was going to be. Your feet danced in the air, and when you felt your body swing to the side, another hand grabbed the Arcona's hand, stopping you from flying out of the bar. The person was strong, muscular. Familiar... desperately you tried to turn to see the person, but you weren't able to catch him.

"She said drinks to everyone... twice," your heart sank, by the tone of his voice.

The Arcona nodded at the stranger's order. Dropping you down almost causing you to fall, but the stranger grabbed your waist, making sure you stood safely up on your shaking legs.

"You'll give her back all her credits," the man's voice was monotone.

The bartender gave you back your bag with all your credits. You might not be sober, and in general not at your strongest point of your fairly long life, but you knew what this stranger was doing. He was using the force. Not only did you know what the stranger was doing. You knew who he was. In a swift movement, the stranger turns you around.

"I had begun to fear I would never see you again," he whispered, his hand brushing your cheek carefully. You looked up to the darkness, swallowing.

Qimir.