Ep V: Chapter 5

The bar girl keeps Enthea’s glass full, and Enthea takes that as a sign from the Galaxy that she doesn’t need to worry about how much she drinks tonight. At times like this, when she’s waiting for the right someone to walk into the bar, there’s no battle to fight, no Padawan to worry about, no mission, and nothing to keep her from thinking and remembering. She remembers Ryoke mostly.

It's hard to think about Ryoke without getting angry. She’s allowed to come out here and socialize. Socializing isn’t against the Jedi Way. Getting angry is.

Her temper snapped earlier. Worse, it happened in front of Obi-Wan’s Padawan. Enthea sighs again. She has to do better than this.

The bar is slow and the Rodian bar girl pauses to top up Enthea’s drink. She speaks.

“I’m OK,” Enthea assures her. “Long day.”

Enthea comes to her senses and checks the bar again, but nothing has changed. There’s no one that she wants to approach, and no one ever approaches her. Maybe because she’s tiny, or maybe because she’s Dathomirian. Or maybe they can just tell. This place was a poor choice. It’s time to think about switching to another bar; this one is dead. So dead that the Rodian bar girl is just leaning on the counter across from Enthea. She speaks up again.

“No, I mostly work off-world,” Enthea replies distractedly.

It would be a quick shuttle ride into the pleasure district. She could do something in virtual reality. Maybe a dance club could be an option. Jedi don’t get to be rich, but she has enough money for a big tip.

“No, I usually have tea or ferment. I just decided to try that,” she says in response to the Rodian’s next question about her drink, touching her glass. “I like it fine,” Enthea replies. “Is this place always so empty?”

The Rodian explains.

“I see,” Enthea says, nodding. “That’s difficult. I’m sorry.”

The Rodian speaks.

Enthea finally forces herself to focus. She has to resign herself to some kind of plan B. And it’s rude of her to keep looking; this Rodian is talking to her.

“You could say that,” Enthea tells her. “My work isn’t always lonely. It can be in some ways, though. It’s all right. I’m used to it.”

The Rodian replies. Enthea laughs.

“I can imagine,” she says. “I could never do your job.”

The Rodian cocks her head slightly. They aren’t the most expressive species, but she’s obviously looking quizzical.

Enthea sighs. This is a painful thought. She smiles ruefully.

“I might have too much of a temper. That’s why,” she says. Her face is reflected in the Rodian’s big, dark eyes. Enthea turns her gaze on the door one last time. The Rodian speaks. Enthea snorts. “Is it that obvious? I guess it’s not my lucky night.” She picks up her drink and checks the time, barely listening. “What? No. I’ve never been with a Rodian.” Enthea pauses and frowns.

The bar girl stares at her expectantly.