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The meat sizzles on the grill as you flip a slice of auley meat, a spurt of flame rushes between the bars separating the meat from the coals. Smoke wafts up from the grill, slavering you with its embrace and attaching its smoky smells to your clothes. Luckily, you are not wearing your Jedi robes; no one here is. Everyone is wearing casual clothes; this is far from a Jedi event, and this is just a few friends hanging out before the group splits up. You did have trouble with one person struggling to accept that they shouldn’t wear their robes, your apprentice. Morrigan was insistent that she should wear her Jedi robes. She likely thought it would make the best impression, or maybe she felt insecure wearing regular clothes. Either way, you eventually managed to convince her.
Heat from the sun feels good on your skin and warms your bones. You feel slovenly as it steals your energy. Relaxing back into your fold-up chair, you reach for your drink. The glass is half filled with a deep black liquid that is both sweet and strong. It is effortless to consume them rapidly as they go down your throat so smoothly. Luke is sitting next to you, his hulking frame barely contained by his seat. While you are far from a small guy, Luke is massive, not Turok’s imposing size, but when standing, Luke is just shy of seven feet. This leads you to commonly compare him to a shaved Wookie. Empty cans litter where his limp hands dangle.
Scion is talking to Luke’s apprentice, Cau, a very average human boy. You think he is fourteen years old, something like that. He seems like a good enough kid, but you’ve not spent all that much time talking to him other than the occasional greeting and small talk. Despite his conversation with Scion, you do notice his eyes occasionally drifting towards the girls, only to shoot back to Scion, who pretends not to see. Grinning into your glass, you sympathise with the kid, remembering what it was like to be at that age, and Alyla, along with Claire, doesn’t make it any easier for him.
Wind gently brushes against your skin, cooling your pale flesh from the strength of the sun. Morrigan has been hovering around you the entire time, arms crossed in front of her chest in an awkward stance, as if trying to create a barrier between her and the strangers. Claire and Alyla approach your Padawan, who is unsure what to do, and engage her with conversations you cannot hear. After a while, Claire leaves the group of girls and pulls up a chair beside you. Shooting her a lazy smile, you greet her.
