Chapter 3
ONE YEAR LATER
Lorna stood behind the bar of Evo Chum's Tavern polishing glasses, waiting for the last remaining customers to leave so she could end her shift. She meticulously wiped each glass inside and out until there wasn't a single smudge to be seen. Not that anyone but her would notice if there was.
Evo's was a decrepit establishment located in the Gorit Slum District on the 1223rd level of Coruscant's underworld. Outside it was lit by a broken holographic sign on which so many letters were unlit that it now appeared to read "E—- Chu—- Ta—". Evo, the rail-thin and garrulous man who owned the tavern, once told Lorna he didn't mind the vulgar phrase that illuminated the street front in place of his name; in fact, he found it hilarious, as did most of his patrons.
Inside, it was obvious that no one cared to properly maintain the place. Evo seemed to think the blaster holes in the walls and stains on the booth seat upholstery just added to the character of his bar. Since Lorna started working there, she managed to keep the surfaces relatively clean, but no matter how hard she scrubbed, the tables retained a sticky glaze of unknown grime.
As she prepared to close down the bar, she counted the minutes until she could head upstairs and collapse into her bed. Less than a month after she had fled the temple, Evo had caught her rifling through his dumpster for food scraps. Apparently, the man had a shred more compassion than most people in the Gorit Slum, for he had offered Lorna a job and a place to stay. More importantly, he didn't ask her much about who she was or where she came from.
"A nice-lookin' gal like you shouldn't be on the streets," he had said, shaking his head. "You keep my customers drunk and happy and you can have the extra room. But you gotta work double shifts until you can afford rent. I ain't no charity operation." It was the first time anyone had shown her any kindness in the underworld and Lorna had felt so relieved she wanted to hug him.
Evo's patrons were even less savory than the tavern itself. All manner of criminals or low-lives could be counted among them, but it was especially popular with smugglers. Crews from all over the galaxy came through Evo's when they needed a place to meet that was off the Empire's radar where questions wouldn't be asked.
Lorna looked up to see a young man with a dark scruffy beard and a blaster strapped to his hip enter the tavern. He gave the room a once over and when his eyes landed on her, he flashed a cocky smile and sauntered his way over.
Lorna cringed inwardly but offered him a feigned smile that barely disguised her disdain.
"We're closing soon," she called as politely as she could manage.
"Aw, no worries, sweetheart. Just need a couple of drinks to take the edge off my day." He grinned at her as he leaned on the bar, flashing perfect white teeth. "I'll take a mug of your best ale."
"We only have one kind of ale," Lorna said flatly.
His smile didn't falter. "I'll take one of those, then," he said, lifting himself onto a barstool.
Lorna poured his mug in silence and slid it to him, then went back to closing the bar.
"Aren't you going to ask why my day's been so rough?" he asked, taking a sip and then suppressing a grimace at the taste.
"If you're from around here, I don't need to ask," Lorna grumbled without looking up.
"Fair enough," the man chuckled, taking another sip of his ale. "The name's Niko, by the way. And I'm actually not from around here. You're looking at the captain of the Crimson Comet. Best smuggling ship in the galaxy, if I do say so myself."
Lorna raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Smuggler, huh? That why you're in this part of town?"
Niko leaned back, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "Got a job lined up. Can't say much more than that, of course. Gotta maintain that air of mystery."
Lorna felt the corner of her mouth twitch into a smile. "Right. Wouldn't want to ruin your reputation."
"Exactly!" Niko grinned, pointing at her with his mug. "See, you get it… uh…" he gestured to her, hoping for her name.
"Lorna."
"Lorna. Beautiful name." He winked at her.
She looked away, her smile withering as unease twisted in her chest. Flirtatious advances always set her on edge, for men's reactions to rejection - and she always rejected them - were unpredictable. Some bore it with a joke or an impolite jab, but others proved more… volatile. She hoped she didn't have to find out which reaction Niko might have.
During her time at Evo's, Lorna had been forced to get accustomed to the lascivious attention she received, but when she'd first arrived it had taken her aback.
She was not naïve; Trilla had been more than happy to describe to her the ins and outs of human (and some nonhuman) attraction. There had even been a fellow Padawan who had taken a liking to her when they were teenagers, a young man with a bashful smile and earnest brown eyes. Though his affection was sincere, she had refused to indulge it. Her loyalty was to the Code, the Jedi. She would not compromise her place among them.
No, the Jedi Order had not completely sheltered her from romantic interest, but the flagrant flirting and lewd gestures she encountered at Evo's were something she never experienced among her fellow Jedi or working with the clones during the war. It was exhausting having to contend with it as often as she did. Especially since she could not afford to be drawn into any conflicts.
"So, what's a pretty thing like you doing working in a place like this?" Niko asked, unfazed by her withdrawal.
Lorna scowled. "Just trying to get by, same as everyone else."
Niko's expression softened. "Hey, I didn't mean anything by it. Times are tough all over."
Before Lorna could respond, a female Zabrak with pale orange skin and a crown of small horns peeking out of short, side-swept white hair entered the tavern. Intricate tattoos framed her austere features which were set in a grim frown. Her stony gaze quickly found Niko and she crossed the tavern in long, stiff strides, sitting down next to him at the bar.
Niko turned to her, his grin returning. "Sinya! I was just getting to know our lovely bartender here. You've gotta try this ale it's…" he sipped his mug and winced, "fantastic."
Sinya rolled her eyes and glanced at Lorna. "I'll have a shot of Ryloth. Don't pay any attention to Niko. He thinks he's the galaxy's gift to females."
"Hey, I can't help that the ladies love me," Niko quipped, raking a hand through his thick black hair.
"Ladies love you? Is that why you're always the first one back to the ship after a night out?" Sinya shot back.
The pair's good-natured banter made her smile despite herself, her guard slowly lowering as Niko and Sinya fell into easy comradery. It reminded her of the way she and Trilla used to tease each other. A pang of longing for that kind of friendship filled her heart before she pushed it aside.
"So, you're a smuggler too?" Lorna set Sinya's shot down in front of her. She downed it in one gulp before replying.
"I'm a logistics coordinator specializing in supply routes and material handling."
"What she means is, she's the brains in this operation," Niko interjected, gesturing to Sinya with his thumb. "I just look handsome and fly the ship out of the way of prying Imperial eyes."
"And yet you barely manage either of those," Sinya rolled her eyes again and gestured to Lorna for another shot.
"Hey, I got the Comet out of there in one piece last time an Imperial patrol ship detected us on their scanners.
"They wouldn't have detected the Comet at all if the captain had remembered to engage the signal-cloaking device."
Lorna poured into Sinya's glass and asked, "Do you have a lot of run-ins with the Empire?" She was careful to keep her tone slightly bored, though, in truth, she was always eager for news from those customers who had been throughout the galaxy.
It was through her well-traveled customers that Lorna had slowly pieced together what had happened to the Republic and the Jedi. She was always careful never to ask too many questions lest her interest look suspicious, but through her eavesdropping, she had discovered that Chancellor Palpatine claimed the Jedi had attempted to overthrow the Senate. He had branded them traitors, demanding their execution and simultaneously declaring himself Emperor of the newfound Galactic Empire.
How Anakin Skywalker had become a part of all of this remained a mystery, but Lorna would never forget the evil power that had rippled off of him that terrifying night in the Temple. The Dark Side of the Force had been present in him, that much was clear. She wondered what became of him, considering none of the rumors she'd heard had mentioned the famous Jedi.
Lorna had unwavering faith that the Jedi were no traitors.
Though she had eschewed politics during the war, she had paid close enough attention to know that many Jedi spoke with trepidation about the Supreme Chancellor's rapid consolidation of power during the Clone Wars. But she knew without a doubt that they would never have betrayed the Republic. And yet, Palpatine had called for the extermination of all the Jedi throughout the galaxy, not just the ones at the Temple.
She refused to believe she was the only survivor. Cere and Trilla had attempted escape with the younglings. There was a chance they had made it. And the most powerful Masters on the Council? Surely Jedi of Master Windu and Master Yoda's caliber could not have been killed by a few clones.
Too fearful of discovery to venture to the surface levels of Coruscant, Lorna had watched footage on a holoscreen at a cantina the day the enormous statue of the Emperor had been erected in the newly christened Imperial Plaza. She had shed a silent tear while Coruscant celebrated the man who had ordered the death of everyone she cared about. Emperor Palpatine would forever be an enemy in Lorna's eyes. That day she had vowed to find a way off Coruscant, find any other surviving Jedi, and expose the Emperor's lies.
"They give us some trouble from time to time, but they don't come after smugglers as heavily as the Republic did. So long as we stick to the established routes through the Kessel Run, we usually steer clear," Niko explained.
"Kessel Run. So, you smuggle spice, then?" Lorna asked.
The spice trade was practically the heart of the Coruscant Underworld. Lorna guessed over half of the inhabitants of the Gorit Slum were addicted to the stuff. Many pilots who came through complained of the hazards of Kessel Run, the hyperspace lane used to travel from the Kessel spice mines to the rest of the galaxy.
"That's the usual cargo. Sometimes the occasional slave shipment," Sinya explained.
Lorna's face contorted in disgust at the mention of slavery. "I see the Emperor has revived that abhorrent practice…" she blurted, the words tumbling out before she could catch herself.
Niko and Sinya exchanged a puzzled glance, their eyes apprehensive as they slid to where Lorna stood behind the bar.
"Well, I didn't mean… it's just that slavery…" she fumbled for the right explanation for her outburst, averting her eyes as she began wiping a non-existent spill on the bar.
In recent months, crackdowns on public dissidence meant that openly expressing disapproval could get you reported to the Imperial Security Bureau. Lorna doubted that smugglers, operating outside of the law themselves, would report her, but still - her bold comment was ill-considered. It was reckless to draw such attention to herself.
Sinya frowned slightly, her intense orange eyes boring into Lorna. Lorna felt as if she were being measured against some unknown standard, but Sinya kept her expression unreadable. They held each other's gaze until at last Sinya pulled a handful of Imperial Credits from her pocket and slapped them down on the bar.
"We've got work to do, Niko. We should head out," Sinya said, getting up from her seat.
"Don't worry about her. She takes a while to warm up to people," Niko said reaching his hand across the bar towards Lorna. She reached out slowly and shook it, her grip hesitant. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Lorna. I'll be sure to stop by again next time we're in town."
Niko sauntered out the door, leaving Lorna alone in the bar at last. Relieved, she finished her closing duties and shuffled up the stairs to her room above the bar.
The charmless living space she claimed as her own was sparsely furnished - her kitchenette consisted only of a hot plate, a kettle, and a sink that doubled as the washbasin. A micro lavatory was tucked to the right of the entrance and a small cot was pushed against the far wall by the only window.
Lorna washed the stickiness of Evo's Tavern off her skin in the washbasin as best she could and glanced at her reflection in the small mirror she hung above it. Thanks to the complete lack of sunlight–she had not even seen the sky once in the last year - her subtly freckled olive skin looked pale and lackluster, missing its usual warm glow. Her hair had grown longer, but remained an uncooperative mane that framed her soft features. Her eyes had always been her most striking feature–wide-set and luminous pale green–but her trials in the Underworld had done little to alleviate the stubborn dark circles that rimmed them.
She really needed to get out of this place.
She settled on her back on the cot, staring at the vent on her ceiling. Despite her exhaustion, sleep was not coming. Her interaction with the smugglers and the way she had let slip some of her feelings about the Empire weighed on her. How long before someone suspected what she was? How long before she was exposed? She closed her eyes and reached out to the Force, seeking its reassuring presence to help calm her nerves.
Her connection to the Force felt tenuous, as if the strong, flowing current of deep water had dried up and her hand met only sand that slipped through her fingers. Her meditations, one of her few remaining connections to the Jedi, seemed ineffective. She missed the Temple Conservatorium and her electroharp. If she could just hear some of her favorite Church of the Force hymns or play her harp, she thought, she could commune with the Force with ease.
The thing she missed most, of course, was her Master. If Master Secura were with her, she would provide guidance, continue her training. She might have even been granted the rank of Knight by now, if the Jedi Order still existed. If Master Secura were with her, she would not be bartending in a slum bar, putting up with criminals and lowlifes. She would not still be stuck in the Underworld.
The irony of her situation wasn't lost on her. She had come full circle, back to a world of crime and violence much like the one Master Secura had rescued her from as a child. The Jedi had been her salvation, her path to becoming something more than just another casualty of the galaxy's darker corners. Now those dreams of rising above it, of becoming an agent of peace in the galaxy, had been dashed along with the rest of the Order.
When she'd left the Jedi Temple, she had only a few credits to her name. The Order had provided most of what she needed. Anything else usually came in the form of goodwill from those who supported the Jedi. She could no longer rely on either for her livelihood. Now, the simple acts of finding food and shelter while avoiding the Underworld's violence consumed most of her energy and meager resources.
Every credit she didn't need for survival she tucked away under her cot, hoping she'd soon have enough to purchase public transport off-world. Passage out of the core systems was costly, so she kept her ears open for rumors of those who might offer her a ride at a bargain. The ever-present danger of discovery forced her to shy away from any confrontation. Even an accidental display of her Jedi training could mean a death sentence.
She had not forgotten the promise she made to herself to find other Jedi and reveal the Empire's treachery. She had faith that the Force would eventually present an opportunity for escape, but until then, she had to be cautious and resourceful.
But perhaps she had been passive for too long. She was no closer to finding other Jedi than she had been a year ago. Pouring drinks, feigning interest in conversation with tavern customers, trudging upstairs to her dilapidated apartment every night - she could not allow this to become her life. Hiding her true self from everyone she met, talking to everyone yet saying nothing, filled her with a loneliness like she had never felt before.
She hoped the Force would soon reveal the path forward to her. She curled herself inward on her cot as a fresh wave of grief and regret washed over her. A hymn she had heard long ago sprang to her mind, a woeful lament that had made her shiver the first time she'd heard it. She could not recall the lyrics, only the haunting melody that glided comfortably in the lower register of her voice.
She began humming the hymn to herself, allowing it to lull her at last into a dreamless sleep.