Bale Andros sank back into his seat, his oversized frame all but eclipsing his side of the booth. For a moment, he was content to listen to the band playing. They weren’t all that great, their rythm and flow broken up by loose timing, but the heavy drone of their music was catchy. He felt bad for them. On any other night, the place would have been bustling with activity, but not tonight. No. Tonight, the place had been cleared out for its special guests.
A haze hung over the ill-lit cantina. Bale wasn’t sure what caused it. Was it the result of poor ventilation or an aesthetic choice from the owner? Either way, it gave the place an air of suspense and mystery, the kind of seedy dive you saw in old crime dramas on the holonet. The servant droid at the bar was unchararcteristicaly still. If he didn’t know better, Bale would have thought it seemed confused. The rest of the booths sat empty, swallowed by shadows.
Bale took a sip from his mug, slushed the thick, burning sludge around in his mouth, then swallowed. It had been a while since he’d had Raelan Swill, and it tasted a whole lot bitter than it used to. He frowned down at his round gut. His growing penchant for sweeter drinks was starting to show. He’d have to rectify that.
He waited a while longer, listening to the tunes, waiting for his guest to join him.
It had been some time since he’d seen Idris. Years, even. Since the war against the Collective. The boy had saved his life then, his and Kaela’s. They’d had a drink afterwards, said they’d do again soon, but as is often the case, soon never manifested. It was no surprise really. He sure as all hells didn’t hold it against the kid. Idris Adenn was the blasted Voice of the blasted Brotherhood afterall. It was downright a miracle he’d even agreed to meet him now.
He wasn’t sure what to expect though. A kid chewed up and spat out by the call of the duty? That same bright-eyed, ambitious runt he’d met at the Adenn homestead so long ago now? Was he going to come alone or with an armed guard? The questions swirled in his head to the lagging rythm of the band.
The cantina door slid open with a familiar hiss. Silhouetted in the door way, amidst the haze and light from the street was the unmistakable form of a Mandalorian. Idris Adenn scanned the room before proceeding. As expected, it sat nearly empty. Behind his helmet, he smiled as he took note of the large form of Bale Andros sitting in one of the booths.
They had known each other for years, and seedy out of the way cantinas had been a staple of their interactions since Idris was able to confidently start sneaking into them as teen. But the years had taken their toll, on both men.
Idris looked over his shoulder, signaling E.D.I to keep watch around the building. He wasn’t particularly worried about being attacked, but he also knew that a night of drinking often came hand-in-hand with violence.
Not that he had anything against that. What was a night out on the town if you didnt get some new scars out of it?
He rubbed his beskar chest plate at the thought, still more shaken by the events of the Ethereal Realm than he liked to admit. He had been glad to receive the invitation from Bale. No political bullshit, certainly none of the madness that kept hold over some of the Brotherhood’s leadership.
He took off his helmet as he made his way towards the booth. Shaking his head, letting the long locks of hair breathe a bit.
“Bale, my friend, it has been far too long.”
Bale was up on his feet at the sight of the Mandalorian warrior, dwarfing Idris despite his own considerable height, then quickle embraced the man in an armor-crunching hug. It lasted only a split-second before he all but dropped him and stepped back, clasping both his shoulders. A big, toothy grin shone through his thick beard, something boyish and fatherly in equal parts.
“My boy, it’s good to see you,” he said, his voice a rumble, his one good eye glistening with good humor. He gave the man’s shoulders a good shake before letting go, then plumped himself down in the booth. He motioned to the servant droid with a pair of thick fingers. “Bring us your best. On the Voice’s tab.”
He waited for Idris to join him. It was really good to see his old friend again.
Idris sat down, grinning.
“Best part of the job, charging to the Council accounts.”
He paused.
“Probably the only perk to the job these days honestly,” he continued while shaking his head.
“I can imagine. Not going to lie, though, I’ve kept my head strictly buried in the sand these last few years.” Bale threw his head back and downed the remainder of his first drink in one loud gulp. “Not that stories haven’t trickled down, heh.”
“A wise choice,” Idris replied as the bartender placed a round on the table.
“You missed some new levels of crazy. The Collective were tame in comparison,” He continued before taking a long drink. He rubbed his chest again with his free hand.
The band finished their song. A somber silence lingered over the cantina until the Halikset’s electric shriek pierced the air, kicking off the next tune.
“Yeah… some sort of new dimension… or some Force business? Don’t reckon there’s much an old mechanic could do about it.”
Bale furrowed his brows. “What’s going on with the rubbing?”
“I got impaled protecting the Grand Master. Well, Deputy at the time,” Idris said. He winced.
“I still feel it sometimes.”
“Always saving someone, aren’t you?” Bale grinned, grabbing the new drink.
Idris shrugged.
“Someone needs to be willing to play the hero around here. So much politics and backstabbing. Gotta watch that you don’t accidentally cut yourself on all the edge these people have.”
He took another drink.
“I’ve been dealing with the Shroud Syndicate, so I know a thing or two about that.” Bale shook his head. “Them scugchuggers could learn a thing or two about honest work. Pfassk.”
“I don’t think they’ve ever heard the word honest before.
“I’ll drink to that.” With that, Bale took a sip from his drink. “Oh blast me, that’s good stuff.”
Idris finished his drink with a long series of gulps.
“Ain’t half bad, gonna need more,” he said signalling the bartender.
“So, huh, how you been? I mean really been. None of that Voice poodoo,” he asked, looking over the brim of his mug. He didn’t expect Idris to spill the jorgan beans freely, but maybe he could get the lad to offload some of that weight clearly weighing on him. “These last few years ran you through the wringer, ain’t no two ways about it. No one comes out the end without their share of scars, and I don’t mean the I got impaled protecting my boss kind of scars.”
“I’ve seen and done things I never thought possible. Job security is nice, making mad credits,” Idris trailed off.
“I just want more. To have a true impact. Part of me died there in the Ethereal realm.”
Bale couldn’t help but wonder. It wasn’t surprising to hear what Idris was saying. A fellow’s perceptions on everything had to change when faced with something like the Ethereal realm. He’d heard the stories, the rumors and the stories told by people who had seen it for themselves, had fought in it… lost friends in it. He couldn’t imagine it. How much did this, what? Alternate reality? Dimension? Whatever it was, it had to change everything.
He sure was grateful all he had to worry about were the kids, the bar, the swoop shop.
Well, it wasn’t exactly true.
He worried about Kaela. Thought about her all the time. How long had it been? Years? He didn’t know where she was. He just knew in his heart that she was alive. But he worried.
He took a sip. It was the only thing he could to keep his hands from trembling and his eye from welling up.
He set the mug down and cleared his throat.
“How do make that happen, then? True impact.”
Idris shrugged and drank before pointing vaguely in the direction of the Ascent.
“There is quite an ugly lump of metal they call a throne that way. Fit for an alor.”
Ok. That did surprise Bale. Grand Master was a duty unlike any. He could certainly picture the boy sitting on that thing, but to actively seek it. Something had truly changed in him.
Bale couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Well look at you. Your old man would have a thing or two to say about that.”
Idris nodded.
“Yeah. He would.” He paused for a moment in thought before continuing. “I’m not content with good enough. Satisfactory is a concept I don’t understand.”
He took another drink and pulled some things from one of his belt pouches. Holoprojectors
The first one lit up displaying Juko and Reela causing havoc in the swoop shop. The other lit up a moment later and displayed Kaela with a wild look in her eyes.
“I do keep tabs you know.”
The soft smile on Bale’s lips as he watched the kids evaporated the moment Kaela appeared. He tensed up, fists balled up.
“Kaela… She looks… When was this?”
“A about six months ago. She is hard to keep eyes on, even for me. I am sorry I don’t have anything more recent.”
He nodded.
“I did my part… If she needed me…” He puffed his cheeks and blew air out. “Well, I hope she’d ask. Idris, if you ever hear anything more concrete… Please.”
“Of course. If anything pressing had been noticed you would have been alerted. Its not an easy life she leads, but should I see something dire, you will be the first to know.”
Bale nodded. “You know, you mention the throne. Sometimes, I wonder if I should be doing more. The way those dogs in the Syndicate behave…” He grinned. “I reckon they could use someone with some real experience. That Morgan was a Gundark wearing human skin, but she kept a tight ship. Now… Heh.”
A very brief look of surprised flashed across Idris’ face.
“The Syndicate, and all of the wretches that frequent the Matron certainly could use some more firm,” he paused, “discipline. They have their uses but they’ve devolved into pure chaos.”
“Don’t get me wrong. Retirement suits me. But the kids are growing up and I see shiess that’s wrong about the world… And I wanna fix it.”
Idris nodded, understanding all too well what Bale was getting at.
“Everyone needs to stay busy,” Idris mumbled mind racing. It would be nice to have a close friend on the Council.
“The Brotherhood is stronger than ever. And we are gearing up for even more. A lot of moving pieces, you’d have to learn to pick your battles.” The Voice pressed a button on his right vambrace and within seconds the door to the cantina slid open and E.D.I. flew on in.
“Syndicate files,” her synthesized voice cheerfully greeted the pair, ejecting a data chit towards Bale.
“Sorry, I should have mentioned E.D.I. listens to everything,” Idris added.
Bale snatched the chip between two oversized fingers and frowned down at it.
“Aren’t you going to get in trouble for this?”
“I’m a glorified information broker. I just brokered information. It will be fine.”