Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars.

"Hello there."

As he stood before the person who he'd arranged to meet, Obi-Wan forced a smile - which was barely able to hide all the sadness he was feeling.

The former Jedi Master had become a broken, depressed man ever since Anakin had fallen to the Dark Side. After losing his apprentice to the Sith, Obi-Wan had become a shadow of his old self. He was in desperate requirement of something which could put an end to his misery. That was why he had called upon this person before him, knowing he could give him what he needed.

"Hey there." The other person raised a hand. "Have we met before?"

"We certainly have. I was that Jedi you encountered in that bar. You were offering to do some, erm… 'business' with me."

Obi-Wan's gaze softened as he observed the stunned reaction of the young dealer who had offered to sell him his goods during their brief interaction at Coruscant.

"That was you?" the dealer exclaimed. "Gee, I never thought I'd see you again, man!"

"Yes, well I've reached out to you, my friend, because I am in need of your help." Obi-Wan placed a hand to his heart. "I have been feeling extremely unhappy ever since a terrible tragedy recently happened to me. I could really do with what you offered to me before."

The dealer's eyebrows raised. He was astonished to hear that the Jedi had tracked him - to request the very thing he had offered to sell him during their first meeting.

"You wanna buy some Death Sticks?"

Obi-Wan nodded, smiling upon hearing the dealer ask him the very same question he'd asked when they first met.

"I do. I know I turned down your offer before, but given how low I've been feeling lately, some Death Sticks could really help me feel better. Name your price, my friend."

Obi-Wan reached into his robe pocket and took out a large handful of money. He offered to the dealer in hope that he would exchange it for death sticks. They were his one chance of erasing all the sadness he was feeling over Anakin Skywalker becoming Darth Vader.

"Help me, my good sir," Obi-Wan pleaded. "You're my only hope."

The dealer stared, then slowly shook his head.

"Sorry, man! I can't help you! I don't sell Death Sticks anymore!"

Obi-Wan's face fell with dismay. "You don't?"

"Not since I took your advice at the bar! I did exactly what you told me to, which was to go home and rethink my life!"

The former dealer smiled proudly. "I don't sell that dodgy stuff anymore. In fact, I go around lecturing people on why they shouldn't waste their money on such things! I'm a far better person now because of you! Thanks, man!"

With that, the dealer-turned-advisor turned and walked happily away, intending to continue dedicating his reformed life to warning people not to take Death Sticks.

As he watched him leave, Obi-Wan clenched his fist. A frown crossed the old Jedi Master's bearded face. He was annoyed that he was not going to get what he really needed, due having used his influence with the Force on the very person who could have provided it to him in a heartbeat

"Blast!" Obi-Wan huffed, throwing his money into the ground. "Curse my Jedi Mind Tricks!"

THE END