You live in this galaxy long enough, you learn to spot when something's not right.

The two that just walked into Fallentino's, there's something up with them. They look ordinary enough. Both human males in plain clothing, trying just a little too hard to go unnoticed. They looked at one another, and then the tall one, the older one with long hair went one way. The shorter one, his hair cut close except for a slender braid, went the other.

We get couples in here sometimes. All kinds. But these two aren't looking for a thrill. They aren't watching the dancers. They aren't asking me for a drink.

The younger one is drifting closer, his eyes darting around. Looking for someone. Anyone can see that. "Hey buddy," I say, with a friendly little wave. "Come have a drink."

"No, thank you."

His accent's a dead giveaway for Coruscant, and I'm a little jealous. The city world. If I lived there, I would never leave. "You must want a drink," I try again. "Everyone who comes here wants a drink or a frag, and even if they want a frag they have a drink first."

Oh, dag, look at that boy blush. But he comes over to the bar and rests his elbows awkwardly on the edge. "What do you recommend?"

"First off, not stumblin' around like the world's worst undercover cop," I say as I mix his drink. Four hands is a real advantage when it comes to barkeeping. "Second, a moonhopper." I flick the tip of a mini-sparker and put on the rim of the glass. It shoots out sparks made of crystallized sugar, and makes a pretty little lightshow. My new friend is transfixed.

"That's impressive." Then his forehead creases in concern. "I'm not a cop."

"Wouldn't matter to me. This isn't my place, and those aren't my dancers and I'm not who you're looking for."

His mouth quirks upward. "How do you know that?"

I lean forward, my arm on the bar a few inches from his. "'Cause you haven't even asked my name."

Humans like eye contact, and I'm giving him plenty. He looks up at me with a startled expression, and then darts a look across the room at the man he came in with.

"Oh, so it's like that, is it?"

"No! It is not like that." He looks around and lowers his voice. "We're Jedi."

I can't help it. I start laughing. I'm a Besalisk, we don't laugh soft or short. When the last rumble of laughter has faded, I wipe a tear from the corner of my eye. "Jedi. If that doesn't take the sale."

"Please lower your voice."

"What's your name, buddy?"

"Obi-Wan Kenobi." He looks down at his drink and then back up at me. He's got those real pretty long eyelashes. "And your name?"

"Call me Dex." I offer my upper right hand, which dwarfs his, but he shakes it as firmly as he can.

"Thank you for the drink, Dex," he says and takes a sip. "That's wonderful. It's very...light."

"Sure, that's where the name comes from. Those little moonhopper ships that the Dugs use. Small and sleek, but full of fire." When he tilts his head to drink, the lights catch the copper glint in his hair. I'd like to touch that hair with my lower hands, where I've got more sensitivity in my fingerpads.

He sets his glass down, and turns it with his fingers. "How did you know I was looking for someone?"

"Little things. Little signs. I've always had a good eye for detail. Like that Bothan over there."

"The one in the pilot's jacket?"

"Not his jacket. Those were issued to the Naboo royal pilots during the Lynsaii uprising, some twenty years before that barve was even born. And that pale female in the back booth in the big fur coat? Bounty hunter."

"Really?" The young Jedi sneaks a look. She stares him down her teeth bared in a snarl. Suddenly I'm feeling very protective of my new friend. Force knows what's under that coat. I set a bottle down on the bar with a little too much force, and her cold gaze snaps to me.

There's a long silence where nothing is said, and then she looks away. "She's probably after the same prize as you," I tell Obi-Wan, shuffling glasses between my hands as I wipe them down. "She's got that hungry look. You can always tell a bounty hunter by that look."

The Jedi takes another sip from his drink. He looks thoughtful. "If I tell you why we're here, would you help me?"

"Sure, I would. If I can. And whether I can or not, maybe you'd like to check out the storeroom."

"The storeroom?" He looks completely befuddled by that one. I guess I'm being too subtle.

"It's quiet back there. We could get to know one another better."

His mouth opens, but no words come out for a whole ten seconds. "I'm...I'm a Jedi."

"And I'm a four-armed, two-dicked Besalisk in his prime who happens to like spry little humans. The other Jedi can watch, if he wants. I'm not shy."

"Clearly...clearly not." He's blushing to the roots of his hair now, completely flustered. "I'm sorry, did you say 'two-dicked…?'"

"Well, sure."

"I...look, Dex…" He pushes his drink away. "That's flattering, really...but that's not really why I'm here."

"You're here about that smuggler. Captain Boli."

Astonishment blooms on his face. "How did you know that?"

"I know Boli and his crew have been trafficking big blast ordinance lately and that's bound to draw some attention. Those plasma bombs have tracking IDs, you know."

"Yes, I know." He shakes his head. "But how does a bartender know that?"

He looks genuinely interested and it's been a long time since someone listened to me talk. Usually it's the other way around. "I wasn't always a bartender, Obi-Wan Kenobi. I came up through the ranks as a proud member of of the Ojomi Special Forces. I was a spy, and a pretty good one. Because of my charm." I wink at the young Jedi, which gets me a bashful smile.

"So why the change in careers?"

"Oh, you know the old saying. Worlds turn, empires fall. My government was taken over by a new crowd, and I didn't care for them. So I turned in my commission and started washing dishes. Traveled around, worked my way up the food chain. Someday I'll own my own place. Not a strip joint like this one. A café. Or a diner."

"That's very brave. Starting over like that. I don't think I could do it."

"Sure you could. It's easy, you just keep looking at the horizon and telling yourself that things are going to get better."

He's got that thoughtful look again. "I believe you. I feel very certain that you will get that café."

"That's very kind. I like you, Obi-Wan Kenobi. So I'm going to tell you that Captain Boli and his crew usually roll into town when their kegs are empty, and I haven't seen them in nearly a full lunar cycle. I wouldn't be surprised if they showed up in the next few days."

"That's good news." He finishes his drink, his pale throat convulsing as he swallows. Human throats are so small and delicate, but they can swallow a lot. "This really was delicious. Can I pay you for it?" He leans closer. "Maybe I could give you something for your tip?"

Oh, he can give me something for my tip alright, the upper one or the lower one, I'm not picky. But I decide not to tease him. "Don't worry about it, buddy. You take care."

"Thank you again." He stands up and bows slightly. "Until we meet again, Dex."

"Until then, Obi-Wan Kenobi."

His Jedi friend is already headed to the door, as if they've got some silent signal. My new friend gives me one last wave before he follows him out.

There's not much in the galaxy you can take for granted. That's why it's important to believe in the future. I'm going to have my own place someday, somewhere big and busy like Coruscant. And maybe I'll see Obi-Wan Kenobi again.