Help us, Jor-val Ondelios, you’re our only hope! – pt. 2

The dinner crowd was in the cantina. Unlike the breakfast time the cantina was bustling and Jor-val let the waiters and busboys do their jobs. He served as the bartender, mixing drinks and doing small talk.

“Hey, Ondelios, you got anything for a war veteran?” A man built like a soldier with a face that resembled Revan’s was sitting at the bar. “Maybe listen to a proposition he has?”

A broad smile broke across Jor-val’s face. “Dor Thay, long time since the war. How’re you holding up?” He set a drink in front of Dor Thay. “This one’s on the house.”

Dor Thay sipped the concoction in front of him. “Whoo, strong stuff. I came here ’cause I heard some rumors of a vergence. Thought you’d be interested…and maybe a little restless. Seems too quiet here.” He motioned to the loud, bustling cantina crowd. “Well, you know what I mean, too routine.”

“A vergence, you say? What kind.” Jor-val picked up a glass and began to idly polish it.

“I don’t know exactly. I just have this feeling about it.” Dor Thay nodded at a lightsaber hanging on the wall behind Jor-val. “Is that his?”

 “Yeah, Teslief gave it to me after she became a master.” Jor-val turned and pulled the lightsaber hilt down. “Well, I may as well take this with. Let’s meet at the Broiling Womprat tomorrow. You know the landing pad. Man, we should change the ship’s name before we leave.”

“Tomorrow then?”


Dor Thay downed his drink quickly then nodded. “See you there at oh-six-hundred?”

Jor-val nodded. “I’ll have everything warmed up by then. The door code’s the same. If I’m not back at the ship by that time I’ll comm you…same code?”

“Same code.”

– – –

The Jedi temple hadn’t changed much. Jor-val had only been there a couple of times. One of the times was when he was granted the rank of master, a position he technically still held, another was when they had the funerals. One for Kasmor, the other for Lousro and the gungan Jedi who stayed with him at the end.

“Master Ondelios.” The guard at the door leading into the main temple nodded at Jor-val. “Are you here for an assignment?” The guard smiled in a way that said he already knew the answer.

“No, here visiting an old friend. Is that okay?” Jor-val waved up at a camera that was watching the door.

The guard nodded. “Sure. Should I page them for you?”

A smile crept across Jor-val’s face. “Oh, I’m sure Tate already knows I’m here.”

There was a crash from inside the door and a few whistles of an apology.

“That’ll be him now.”

“You know that droid’s going to get you in trouble, right?”

“Wouldn’t be fun if he didn’t.”

The door slid open and an astromech droid rolled out of it. T8-T3 chirped a few bits of binary and bumped into the door guard lightly.

“I have no clue what he said.” The guard looked at Jor-val hopeful that he did.

Jor-val shook his head. “Sorry, I only know little bits. I think he said something about a leave of absence.”

“Right. No problem.”

T8-T3 rolled past the guard and headed for the temple entrance. He beeped a few times and Jor-val got a message on his datapad.

Jor-val checked the text: Fill me in at the Broiled Whomprat. I need to grab something first.

Jor-val jogged behind to catch up. “It’s called the Tempest now. The old name was a little too weird.”

A short chirp emanated from T8-T3. Jor-val knew without a translation that he liked the name.

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