Public Come get a drink at Kalipher's~ (Coruscant, late evening)

[Ashin Cardé Varanin]

Force-created artificial beings, the incorporeal kind, weren't totally outside Ashin's experience. Her grandfather had formed one in his youth as a Sith. He'd needed someone to like him. So what had this one been built for?

The artificial spirit's private conversation with Noelle whispered through the edges of Ashin's mind.

WHY WERE YOU MADE AND WHAT IS YOUR PURPOSE NOW?

She opened her eyes briefly to appreciate Lazru's Surprise, and made up her mind to tip the Zeltron headwaiter with extreme generosity.

Noelle Varanin Kal Zelroga

 

[Kal]

Noelle's binding had been the work of a novice, and though it succeeded in confining him to this damnable prison, it had lacked the sheer potency of a master. Her mother had no such limitations, a will like molten iron forcing him to comply with her requests, at least short term.

He very much did not wish to know whether she had the aptitude to make such commands permanent.

<Freedom is a very good reason, but I will be free eventually anyway. Sooner or later...>

WHY WERE YOU MADE AND WHAT IS YOUR PURPOSE NOW?

Pulled along once more, the pair would be treated to another stream of images and impressions - a Sith Lord's relentless quest for perfection, countless beings created and discarded, the transition into the spiritual and the promises it brought with it, an eternity of power. A stepping stone.

Abandoned.

No.

<My creator is dead, my purpose my own,> said Kal, suddenly less cheerful. <I am my own being now. We all are.>

Noelle Varanin | Ashin Cardé Varanin​

 

[Noelle Varanin]

Noelle's attention clicked on that glass, her eyes widening as she took in the unexpected beauty. She might not have a taste for well flavored drinks, but as an Echani, she knew fine art when she saw it.

"Thank you," she acknowledged, a little less careless in how she reached for the flowered beverage.

All further appreciation was dashed by the throb of images passing behind her eyelids. She closed them, a grimace hidden behind the sip of the drink. It's sweet taste was enough to ground her, the complexity behind the palate a fair more appealing than the crackers she often gathered for her meals.

That habit would be dashed soon enough, new household staff were already ordered and on their way. The Varanin family estate was quickly becoming filled with life again, but all of that now hinged on one thing.

"Can we use him?" She rasped, her fingers tracing dew off her glass as she opened her eyes.

Zelroga Ashin Cardé Varanin Kal

 

[Harry the Shaper]

In walked a muscular man with grey skin. “I need some White Wampa Ale.”

 

[Zelroga]

Lazru sighed and touched his fingertips together. 'I am most sorry sir, but we do not serve ale at this establishment. Your selection of drinks can be found here,' he said, gesturing to one of the menus laid out on the counter.

Harry the Shaper

 

[Harry the Shaper]

The Shaper of Kro Var sighed. “Then I’ll have a blue milk cooler.”

 

[Zelroga]

'Of course, Sir,' the zeltron said, twirling around to fetch a glass and a tumbler of crushed ice. He carefully rolled the rim of the glass about in a saucer of salt before enthusiastically pouring everything together. He placed the drink on a coaster for the customer. 'Here, sir. Enjoy. You new to Coruscant, or?'

Spoiler: Blue Milk Cooler

Harry the Shaper

 

[Harry the Shaper]

“Not so new.” The Shaper’ whose name was Harry, went on to tell a story about fighting alongside a green, long eared Jedi.

 

[Tom Kovack]

Zelroga

"How come yours has cool-looking smoke coming out of it?"

Tom lowered his glass, swallowing before replying, "It's just dry ice. Yours looks cool too."

"Yeah, I can see why they call it 'Sunset Over Coruscant'." Starlin smirked glumly as he raised his glass to admire it. That Zeltron bartender did good work. "It's definitely fruity. I can barely taste the alcohol in it."

"Were you expecting it to be stronger?" Tom asked. Lowering his voice, he added, "You wanna do shots?"

"I don't think we can do shots here. We'd have to go to one of the seedier places downtown, and... Mom wouldn't like it." Starlin looked down at the table as he took another sip of his drink. "She's been scared lately."

"That doesn't surprise me." Tom was slightly distracted by Noelle Varanin and Ashin Cardé Varanin at a nearby booth. Their conversation didn't interest him so much as the weird fuzziness he sensed emanating from their table, like a bad transmission. His mind-reading abilities were still developing, but this interaction stood out. The older woman seemed to exercise a mental muscle even as she spoke aloud to the pretty blonde girl in front of her, not so much imposing as... subconsciously demanding answers from someone or something. An unseen presence or entity that Tom knew was there, but couldn't sense beyond that. That was definitely a weird bit of business over there, and certainly nothing he wanted to get involved in.

"Ever since Dantooine," Starlin was muttering, leaning his head on his hand. The real one, not the prosthetic. "She wouldn't even talk to Syd. I think she blames her for what happened."

Forgetting about the infuriatingly obscure shadow, Tom turned to Starlin. "Did you tell your mother that you went to Dantooine because of Syd?"

Starlin grimaced. "I told her it was my fault. Everything was my fault. I wish everyone would accept that and stop pointing fingers at each other. There's nobody to blame but me." Gazing down into his glass as though searching the Sunset for answers, his voice dropped to almost a whisper. "Tom, can I ask you something?"

The Zeltron had moved on to another table featuring gray-skinned man of few words. Tom nodded. "Sure."

"Who are you, really?"

Fog drifted over the counter, foaming over the rim of the Bespin Fizz. Tom hesitated.

"I know you told me you needed to keep secrets," Starlin continued. "That it was too dangerous for me to know anything more about you than I do now. I get that, but... I just wish I understood why. Are you, uh, on the run from something?"

"You could say that."

"Were you framed or tricked or betrayed, or... was it something you did?"

Tom bit his lip until he tasted blood. "It was something I did."

"Did you kill someone?"

"People." Tom ran his fingertips over the sides of his glass, gathering condensation into droplets. "I killed some people."

"Why?"

Blinking, Tom met Starlin's eyes. "On Bakura," he replied. "I'm originally from Bakura. It happened when the Eternal Empire took over. That's all I can say." He took a huge gulp of his drink and prayed that was the end of this conversation for a very long time, at least.