Quoted By:
“Seyra, that’s the Padawan. He’s coming over. I know this has been shit, but you’ve been amazing. I mean, look, it has worked; we couldn’t have done this without you. Only you could have done this. This is all you. Make it worth it, complete this trap. Let him fall under your spell, and then we can find out where this Sith artefact is. Once we get it, you can kill the Jedi with your own hands if you want.” You babble anything complimentary to keep her in her seat; she can’t screw this up by doing something stupid. “Let’s get this done, and we can get you that Lightsaber and some real clothes.”
Glaring up at you, she shoots you with a stare that contains nothing but venom, then gives an ever-so-slight, almost imperceptible nod. Relief loud in your voice, “Great, wonderful, handle him in whatever way you think is best. I’d advise, at a minimum, getting his name and the room he is staying in. If you could get him alone somewhere private, that’d be amazing. We’ll intercept him, telling him to get lost, and that’s where you can come in.”
As the Jedi approaches, you and Murl step towards him, creating a living barrier between him and Seyra like you have done to so many people already. In a gruff voice, mimicking a galaxy-weary mercenary, “Beat it kid, the lady doesn’t want any visitors.”
But unlike the other times, Seyra calls out in a soft tone over the low din of the bar, “No, it’s okay, Vulfstahn, let him through. There’s something different about him.”
The dishevelled Jedi sits across from her on the curved sofa, holding two drinks, offering one to her after an audible gulp, “Here, it looked like you needed one. I’m Hamlor.”
“Thanks Hamlor,” Seyra replies with a weak, pained smile, showing the cracks of interest in the young man. “Seyra.”
“So, Seyra, what’s got you down? I’m always willing to offer anyone a helping hand.” The fledgling Jedi asks as he takes a sip of his drink.
“It is daddy, he is soooooo controlling. It is like every bit of my life is micromanaged by him. Go to this school, wear this, meet my business partners, do not use contractions. It is like I am an object in his sculpture of a perfect life. There is no space for me to be myself. Why can I not make my own decisions? I have been an adult for years.” Seyra whines to the Jedi as he fights a losing battle against the gravitic pull, which draws his gaze to her sizable chest.
