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Without his armor, Cody felt extremely vulnerable. Especially in the Coruscant underworld, and especially in the Uscru district. How civilians functioned, living like this, he would never understand.
Obi-Wan, of course, looked pleased with it all. Although he assured him he was just as uncomfortable without his Jedi robes, he sure was getting a lot of looks.
"Try not to flaunt too much," Cody reminded him, "We're undercover."
"Since when do I flaunt, my dear?" Obi-Wan asked, raising an eyebrow. Oh, he had to be kidding.
"Right. Then you sure chose the perfect outfit for it."
Obi-Wan gave him a look of disgruntlement in his metallic yellow jacket. Then, he sniffed haughtily. "If that was a compliment, then I must say, you look quite dashing yourself."
Cody didn't think 'dashing' was the right word. Not at all.
More like... repulsive.
I'm never stealing Waxer's civvies again.
They came up to the entrance of the Outlanders Club. Already, Cody could hear the music blasting inside. "Remember," Obi-Wan stated, evidently deciding to be serious, "I'm Ben."
Side by side, they stepped into the club.
Immediately, all of Cody's senses were assailed – The blaring, flashing, colorful lights; the music that was somehow louder than he'd expected; the muggy air; the very overpowering scent of alcohol; the sheer amount of civilians packed into one enclosed space.
Putting all of that together, along with his clothing choice, and Cody would've gladly walked outside right now and been hit by a rogue podracer.
Iron will went a long way in a place like this. He reminded himself, with difficulty and reluctance, of their mission: Find a group of scruffy spice smugglers, get them in jail. Simple. There were plenty of scruffy people here. Just had to find the ones that were felons.
"Let's try to blend in," Obi-Wan said, and took off towards the bar. Cody followed him with really no surprise whatsoever. Drinking on the job. Naturally.
"Just don't get anything too strong. We're undercover."
"Wouldn't it be more suspicious if I wasn't drinking?"
"It'll be suspicious when you get drunk and cause a riot."
Obi-Wan patted him on the shoulder as he sidled up to the bar. The burly Phindian bartender was eyeing them, and Cody had a feeling it wasn't just because of his clothes. "We both know you won't let that happen. Yes, let's see, I'll have one glass of Deep Core, please."
Right, because that was one of the most alcoholic drinks they had on the menu. Couldn't have just ordered a blue milk cooler or something, no way.
"Anything for the clone?" The bartender asked. Cody nearly choked. So much for staying undercover.
He shook his head, trying to keep his mortification off of his face. The bartender huffed and turned around to get Obi-Wan's drink. The two of them shared a look.
The bartender turned back and, with a groan, passed Obi-Wan a glass of gross-looking black stuff. "'Ts none of my business, but," The bartender drawled, "What's a Jedi and a clone doing, slumming down here? Not trying to incite civil discord, are ya'?"
Obi-Wan glanced around the bar nervously and took a swig of his drink. Even he looked disgusted by it. "I'm not sure what you mean, good sir. I'm no Jedi."
The bartender didn't seem to believe it, as no sensible person would. "Sure, pal. Well, if you're looking for the Mosak Gang, then they're right over there. Feel free to haul 'em in for me."
The bartender nodded to a crowd of Ishi Tibs openly trading deathsticks.
Cody grimaced. Obi-Wan took another long sip of whatever vile speeder fuel he was drinking and sucked in a breath. "Ah, no. We're actually here to find a group smuggling spice for the Pykes. Have you seen anything?"
The bartender snorted and waved a hand. "Oh, yeah. I've seen those junkies. Up near the front of the club, where the music's so loud they probably can't hear banthacrap."
"That's a start. Thank you, sir," Obi-Wan flashed the bartender a smile. Eyes glinting, he turned away and passed Cody his drink.
Oh, great. "You have a plan?"
"Of course. Follow me. We're off to the sound booth."
Why did Cody know this would happen?
Sighing, he took a sip of the piss-in-a-cup that was Deep Core and followed.
It wasn't too difficult to shove their way through to the sound booth. It was a bit of a struggle, considering the booth was on the second floor and the throng of people was so thick they didn't notice the lift tubes for a solid five minutes.
But when they got up there, Obi-Wan was all too happy and Cody was wishing that those spice smugglers would act up already.
Obi-Wan approached the first jockey, who looked at him and continued dancing. With a wave of his hand, the jockey stopped dancing and walked away.
"May I have my drink, Cody?"
Out of spite – Definitely not personal taste – Cody threw back a swig before passing it to Obi-Wan. He gave him an unimpressed look before downing the rest of it, turning to the booth, and clipping on the mouthpiece.
"Hello, outlanders! Are you ready to get down on the dance floor?"
A chorus of cheers went up through the drunken audience.
To Cody, he whispered, "Would you mind taking care of that other fellow for me?"
Cody sighed and turned to the massive Trandoshan on the other side of the booth. Looked like he'd be flying tonight.
That was, if he survived this. Which, by the look in that Trandoshan's eyes, was getting less and less likely.
Somewhere along the way, they'd snapped out of their little internal dance party and now had a hiss leveled right at him. "Clone!"
Cody suppressed a groan. "Si- Ben..."
"Everyone do the Sith-step!"
The Trandoshan snarled. "And a Jedi!"
Cody balled his fists. Figures. "Now, uh... You wouldn't happen to be working for the Pykes, would you?"
The Trandoshan gave a roar – at the same time everyone in the bar cheered – and barreled right towards him.
The air was knocked out of him as he hit the floor. The damn civvies didn't absorb any of the impact, like clothes that were worth wearing would've. He lay there winded for a good second, watching as the Trandoshan tapped something on their sleeve. Kark, Cody missed his vambraces.
"Now the Pykes to the floor!"
The Trandoshan reached down and grabbed Cody by his vest. He was hoisted into the air, up to eye level with them. From here, he got a good view of the civil discord that bartender had been talking about.
The entire mass of people who'd been drinking and minding their business a second ago were now crowded in front of the sound booth speakers, dancing like a bunch of inebriated Jawas. It was almost shocking just how much everyone seemed to enjoy Obi-Wan's unique choice of lift tube music.
Unfortunately, the group of sundry angry individuals stomping towards them seemed to think otherwise.
"Karking- Ben!" Cody barked, finally, for kriff's sake, getting the Jedi's attention.
"Language, my dear– Oh, my."
Cody grunted, grabbing the Trandoshan around the neck. He kneed them in the stomach, yanked himself out of their arms, and swung over their shoulder.
They wheezed as he pulled them to the ground, because even for their size, they were still top-heavy.
Someone else kicked the back of his knee. He fought to retain his balance as he whirled around and elbowed them in the face.
They yelled and karking shoved Cody to the ground. His back hit the floor, and then they were on him, throwing punches like no one's business. Drunk people really couldn't fight. It gave him hope.
Off over by the sound booth, Obi-Wan grunted; Something went skittering across the floor. Cody kicked the karker off of him, using the momentum to roll into a crouch. As he pushed himself up, his hand brushed something on the ground – A familiar smooth hilt.
"Damn typical," He muttered, clipping it to his belt, then rolling to the left as they brought their fists down again. They tipped forward, and he kicked their legs out from under them.
"Blasted clone!" They shouted, and faceplanted.
"Well, that's not very respectful," Obi-Wan commented. He helped Cody to his feet. There was a sizeable dent in the sound booth, suggesting that they were, for the briefest moment, not in harm's way.
Cody gave him a look.
"What? I'm defending you."
"You, defending me?" He snorted. "Which one of us here fights like a Jedi?"
"I don't take your meaning."
Another horde was rushing at them now. The person at the forefront – a warbling human whose spacer getup rivaled Cody's – took a shot at his face. When that didn't work, they made the smart decision to tackle him.
How well that worked for them, when he sidestepped them and nearly sent them flying over the edge of the balcony.
They caught onto the railing before they could slip through a convenient gap in the railing, one which Cody hadn't noticed before but was now hyperaware of. Definite safety hazard.
The spacer rounded on him. Immediately they tried ramming into him again – And this time Cody didn't have the chance to move. He blocked a sloppy punch, threw a solid one. Squeezing their eye shut, they grabbed onto his shoulders and flipped their positions.
Now, his back was to the convenient safety hazard.
Somehow, nearly falling had seemed to give this person a big strength boost, too.
They were pushing him back. Cody wrestled against them, but admittedly their grip was better than their uppercut. He resisted with what little leverage he had. The balcony floor was slippery.
Meanwhile, Obi-Wan had just succeeded in kicking four people's asses.
Some drunk people fought better than others.
Much to Cody's surprise, instead of just pushing him over the ledge, the spacer decked him in the gut first. Yelping in a manner befitting to a Marshall Commander, he tumbled backwards–
The heel of his palm just barely caught the edge.
He pulled his legs underneath him, evening out his weight. Otherwise, he'd have tumbled backwards another 20 feet. He just barely managed to hold on with his fingertips as he slipped, and slipped, until he was dangling over the edge.
The spacer stared down at him for a moment, before immediately collapsing on the floor. That was mildly satisfying to see. However, he didn't get to enjoy it for long.
One of his hands slipped, and he probably wasn't going to be holding on with the other for much longer.
"Sir- Ben–! A little help, here!" Cody yelped, clinging to the balcony desperately. If there'd been a crowd of folks lapping at his heels, he might've let go.
"Hold on!" Obi-Wan called back. A second later, a hefty Trandoshan went flying over Cody's head. One of their claws caught on his heel.
He cried out as he lost his grip. Luckily, at that moment, Obi-Wan caught his wrist.
"Good job holding on," He remarked. Cody was pulled over the ledge and into another festering bar fight.
"Good job staying undercover," He replied.
Obi-Wan snorted, as he and Cody sidestepped a charging Gotal. "Really? I believe I've done better than you."
"J-J-Jedi scum!"
With a little bit more muscle than was necessary, Cody hooked a spice-reeking human in the jaw and shoved their limp body towards Obi-Wan. "Which one of us is the Jedi here?"
Obi-Wan gave him a look and – gently – knocked them unconscious. The rest of the smugglers turned tail and booked it, but were unfortunately met by that bartender from earlier, who had something important to say.
Well, that was four more bodies on the ground.
Obi-Wan ran a hand through his hair. "I believe that's the last of them. Shall we call Lieutenant Divo now?"
Cody huffed, snatching his blaster off the ground. "Already did the second you commandeered the sound booth. Should be here..."
The sound of alarmed cries and sirens blaring outside spoke for him. "Now. Oh, and here's this."
The look on Obi-Wan's face when Cody handed him his lightsaber was too good. Really. Cody should've taken a holo.
"...Thank you, Cody," He said, rumpled in more ways than one, as he took it.
Cody started walking. "You're very welcome."
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Obi-Wan shake his head and move to catch up.
Droid officers passed them as they made their way to the lift tube. They cuffed the smugglers and yanked them to their feet, all as the bartender watched with crossed arms.
Cody packed into the lift alongside Obi-Wan. They got out on the ground floor, passing that unconscious Trandoshan on the way to the exit. They'd really nicked Cody. Asshole.
Lieutenant Divo stopped them at the doorway and, naturally, started spouting some crap. "Uh, Master Jedi, Commander, I'm grateful for your help, truly," He gave them each a look of half-lidded appraisal, "But this is Coruscant Security business now. So if you wouldn't mind getting off my crime scene?"
Oh, yeah, his crime scene. Like he'd almost just fallen off a balcony. Who cared, though; At the very least, it wasn't Cody's problem anymore.
The two made their way out into the frankly unpleasant air of the Uscru district. There was lots of staring coming down their way, a whole bunch of panicked civilians – and probably more felons – eyeing the police bikes.
Didn't matter to Cody, though. He was just happy to be walking in another direction. It had been way too loud in there.
"Well, that was eventful," Obi-Wan remarked, crossing his arms, "Almost as eventful as that one time I had to slice off an assassin's arm in a club just like that."
Cody remembered that story. It ended with the Clone War starting. There was no need to get Obi-Wan started on it again, or he'd just be ranting about Skywalker for the next half hour. "Ah, yes."
Just as Obi-Wan was about to open his mouth to say something both wistful and irrelevant, Cody spoke again. "I don't know about you, sir, but I'm not ready to head back to the Negotiator yet."
The distraction worked. Obi-Wan stroked his beard, as he often did when biting back a rant. "I agree, dear, I agree. Does Dex's sound good?"
Cody scoffed. "Do Jedi have lightsabers?"
Obi-Wan sighed irritably, and Cody reveled in it.