Chapter Text
CHAPTER ONE
Grian stepped into the cool air inside the temple. It was his first time visiting the Jedi Temple as Jedi Knight. The tall marbled columns reached up to the high ceiling, supporting the building's weight. His lightsaber hung on his brown belt, slightly swinging from the movement of his steps. His boots sent loud echoes through the corridor but there was no one there to hear it.
At this moment, Grian was utterly alone. The corridor was deserted. Cold and empty. And he leaned behind a pillar, taking in the silence. The city bustle couldn’t reach him here. Not even through the cracks and slight openings of the building. A lonely peacefulness. The sound of footsteps approaching startled Grian. Stepping out of his secluded spot, he crashed straight into the source of the footsteps. A fellow Jedi stood there for a brief second before assisting his fallen old friend.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you,” he muttered, his head still facing down. Grian knew this Jedi. They had met a few times while training with their respective masters, Master Etho and Master Bdubs. As quickly as the Jedi had entered the cool corridor, he left.
“Scar?” Grian called out after him, his shorter legs struggling to catch up with Scars long strides. Scar stopped, turning to watch his friend approach.
“Grian?” Scar questioned, “Is that you? You’ve changed.” Grian had finally caught up with his fellow Jedi.
“Well of course. You expect me to still look like an awkward teenager?” He joked.
“How long has it been?” Scar asked, rewinding time inside his head.
“It has been years. Last time we saw each other was on Tattoine, our masters had decided to bet on podracing.” Grian’s eyes looked lost as he remembered the few good memories with his master, Etho.
“They never won anything on those races. But that never seemed to stop them,” Scar was also grinning over those fond memories. “We should catch up later, when I’ve finished my work for the Jedi Council.” Grian nodded in agreement. He’d spent the last few years with almost no company. Not even a droid to assist him. Master Etho has taken his droid on the mission that was declared his last. What was a few more hours by himself?
“I’ll meet you here when I’m done. It shouldn’t take too long. Would you like to join me?” Scar offered. As much as he wanted to spend more time with an old friend, something about seeing Master Rendog again brought back a bad memory and a sour taste in his mouth. He had been the one to deliver the news of Etho. And people with authority just handed to them annoyed him. Why did they just get to make decisions that would never affect them?
He often wished Etho had taken him along with him. Maybe he would have won the battle with the Sith. Maybe he wouldn’t be so alone right now. Maybe it was his fault that Etho died. He hadn’t even tried to join him on that mission.
“I’ll wait here. Take your time. I’m in no rush.”
Grian watched as Scar made his way to the end of the corridor and turned left. Again, Grian was alone in this cold, marble room again. His back pressed against the pillars, the coolness seeping through his red jacket. A group of young Padwans ran through the corridors a few times. Most of the younglings didn’t even notice Grian, who had moved to perch on a high ledge, that no one was quite sure how he got up there. And even those who took notice, didn’t care. They had grown accustomed to the ever changing cast of the Jedi Temple.
What could have been minutes or hours, Scar returned. His duties finished for the day and a nice amount of credits in his account.
“Grian?” the Jedi did the awkward whisper shout in the darkness behind the pillars. Grian emerged from the darkness, rubbing his eyes.
“So where are we heading?” Grian asked, yawning. Slight panic shot through Scar. He had never had a friend to go out with. He hardly left the Jedi compounds, let alone go out with someone.
“Uhh, I don’t know. You know any good spots?” Grian paused for a moment before nodding.
As they walked towards Grian’s spot, the pair talked of nothing and of everything. Important and unimportant. It had been years since either had anyone to talk to. The loud streets seemed to be muffled while they were together. A white noise in the background of them recalling fond memories they had with and without each other.
Grian has chosen a small nameless bar, down a narrow side street. A No Droids sign was hung outside the door.
“I swear their drinks are possibly the best in Coruscant. I’ll even buy you one. You’re gonna love this place,” he eagerly told Scar.
“All I heard was that you’re paying, and as long as the drinks don’t come from my credits they’re always going to be good drink,” Scar joked, entering the small building.
The interior was cluttered. Tables were crammed into corners at odd angles, circular ones covered the open floor and booths only big enough for two were tucked into the walls. The walls were plastered with posters of all sorts. Wanted posters, for sale posters, posters of old and new artists. The walls, where it was not covered in posters, were a shiny metal and the floor was tiled in black and a dark green.
The bar was almost full, save for a few of the small booths. Servers darted around the tables as music played. Legal and illegal business was being made everywhere the pair looked.
Grian and Scar took a seat in a corner booth and put in an order for their drinks. And watched the bustle of the bar while Grian asked Scar about his work for the Jedi Council.
“So you basically are just their errand boy? Do you not think you're capable of much more than running around getting legal papers for a bunch of old Jedi who think they’re more important than everyone else?” Scar was taken back. He was happy with his job. He was happy working for the Council. He was happy. But Grian had a point.
“Well… I mean. There’s loads of stuff I’d love to do, but that doesn’t mean I can do it. I have a job. A responsibility. And I’m happy doing it. I really am.” His tone sound as if he was trying to convince himself rather than Grian.
“Scar. Are you happy?” He had no answer to this. No answer that didn’t contain a lie. There was no truthful way to respond to his friend.
“Well, of course,” he lied, putting on a smile.
The bar had emptied out now, the day drinkers leaving for the evening. The bar's door opened and a cloaked togruta and another cloaked man accompanying him stepped in. The music stopped briefly before beginning again as the pair sat down. Grian watched the pair as they ordered and received their drinks, Scar still trying to convince both himself and Grian about his happiness.
Neither of the cloaked men took down their hoods and all that could be made out was a glowing red mechanical eye on the left side of the togruta's face. The longer Grian looked, the more he could see half of the togruta's face was covered in metal.
The cloaked pair sat in silence, watching the crowd come in and, seemingly, looking for something. That’s when the togruta met the Jedi’s eyes, staring him down. Hastily, Grian averted his eyes, bringing his attention back to Scar.
By now, it was late.
“You got somewhere to stay? Because you can stay with me,” Scar asked. Grian nodded.
“Yeah, I’m staying with some relatives uptown. I should actually probably be heading home now.” He stood up to head towards the door, waiting for Scar. Grian held the door open as they walked into the cool night air.
Unfortunately, or fortunately, depends who you ask, the Jedi didn’t notice the cloaked men trailing them. The Jedi parted ways as a crossroads, sharing empty promises that they would do this again soon.
Grian, now alone, became extremely aware of the situation. Of the men following him. And of the familiarity the shorter of the two had.