Guardians of Light

Last Stand

CLARKE

Raucous laughter from the loud group on the corner table almost overpowered the music to which a lone twilek was dancing animatedly in the corner of the bar, but few people seemed bothered by the noise as they remained lost in their own individual problems, drowning a mug of ale as if they might find the answers dwelling beneath the amber liquid. 

Clarke leant against the alcohol spattered bar, blissfully ignorant to the goings on around her as she let thoughts of the Jedi shroud her senses. No longer in the Commanders presence, she soon began questioning everything that she had previously been so certain of, including just how reciprocated her feelings for the woman were. 

The mind of a Jedi was no easy thing to decipher.

'Hey! I'm talking to you.'

Clarke jolted in the realistation that the words were directed at her, pushing herself away from the bar abruptly to glance sideways at her boss. 

'I asked you to clean the bar, not stare at it,' Caleb drawled, reaching beneath the curved surface to retrieve his second bottle of alcohol that night. 'I'm out the back working hard, so don't let that bunch start causing any trouble.'

Working hard, more like downing shots with the newest client, Clarke thought scornfully but managed a reluctant nod, not that the man was paying her any attention as he slipped back into the private room behind the bar. 

Cloth in hand, she slowly began to draw the material across the sticky surface, keeping a close eye on the boisterous group that had taken up residence in the bar that afternoon. 

The long awaited day of the meeting had arrived, and Clarke scolded herself for not being more alert. It would be a few hours or so until the event began, but it was no excuse to lose focus at such a vital time. 

Customers came and went, credits were exchanged, and the hours passed by until finally the designated gathering time came around. 

The visitors began to file in through the back door, twelve of them in total making use of the private room as well as the interconnected VIP rooms which were reserved only for the most important clientele. Clarke just had to find a way to pass her message on to the Republic spy and her part in this mission was complete. 

'Service!' her boss called out from the back and Clarke eagerly grabbed a bottle of spirit on her way behind the bar. 

'Anything else I can assist you with?' she offered, casting a subtle eye across each of the guests to scope who exactly had been summoned. The Republic spy was instantly recognisable, just as the Lieutenant had described, and was listening with a detached disinterest as one of the other visitors rambled on about his business. 

'No, no, just keep the rabble out of here and don't interrupt us again,' Caleb insisted in a hushed tone, grabbing the spirit bottle and ushering the dejected blonde out of the room with a frantic gesture, puling across a partition once the woman had crossed the threshold to return behind the bar. 

There went her first chance of interacting with the Republic Spy. Now she would just have to create her own reason to infiltrate the secret on goings, not that they were so secret anymore that she had placed multiple recording devices throughout the room that would broadcast the feed live to the waiting Republic agents. 

With Caleb's love of binge drinking and new found trust in his blonde employee, it hadn't been a difficult task to set up surveillance weeks in advance. 

'Hey, lady, I've been waiting for service and...'

The intoxicated man's words descended into an unintelligible slur of noises as Clarke looked on in distaste. She was hardly paying attention to the drunkard, absentmindedly pouring a glass of finest liqueur on request as he produced only half of the creds that were required.