Ep V: Chapter 3

Coruscant is orange and smoggy as Enthea walks down the ramp to the landing pad. Anakin emerges from the ship and hurries after her.

“We should’ve stayed long enough to catch a podrace,” he’s saying.

“There was no podracing back there.”

“I heard a pod engine,” Anakin insists. “I wouldn’t be wrong about that, Master Enthea.”

“I’m not a master. I’m certainly not your master,” she adds, giving him a stern look as they make their way across the bridge from the pad to the Jedi Temple. Glowing lines of traffic shine above and below. Faint lights of the skyline are visible through the smog. “Obi-Wan is your master.”

“Then why am I not with him?”

“Because he’s on Mandalore,” Enthea tells him for the hundredth time. The doors ahead open for them.

“What’s he doing there?”

Enthea snorts and doesn’t let herself smile. “He’s busy.” She tosses Anakin the data stick from Graytube as they enter the temple. “Give that to Master Windu for me. Then study.”

Anakin stops in his tracks as Enthea heads for the elevators.

“Where are you going?” he calls after her.

“For a drink.”

FTL

The life of a Jedi is supposed to be one of poverty and mindful simplicity. Enthea has little difficulty with the poverty; her room in the temple and austere lifestyle don’t bother her. But there’s nothing simple about trying to balance her body’s needs with those of the Jedi Order. The Jedi make some accommodations for her, allowing her to leave the Temple to take care of things when she’s able.

It’s still complicated. Emotionally and logistically. There’s guilt and doubt. There’s also the matter of what happened at the beginning of all this: her chance encounter with the bounty hunter, Blu Bahls, who’s now rumored to serve Laki. A Jedi should not be seen in public engaging in the sort of socializing that Enthea has to get up to in order to take care of herself. A Jedi also should not be seen to live lavishly. That means that Coruscant’s many beautiful, glossy, safe, quiet, peaceful bars filled with civilized individuals whose acquaintance Enthea would love to make are off-limits.

At least Coruscant offers no shortage of alternatives. Enthea never goes to the same place twice. This one is low and cramped, lit with yellow and orange. Even as Enthea enters the bar in her humble civilian clothes, she sees homemade **** sticks being passed around in several booths. **** Sticks aren’t illegal in this part of Coruscant, but the import of bala mushrooms is. She’s not here as a Jedi, and Jedi shouldn’t be wasting their time with that sort of thing anyway. Instead, she focuses on the waitress who sashays past, a human in a brightly-colored wig, whose skirt doesn’t even try to hide her shapely rear end.

Enthea focuses on the things that matter.