Private The Unusual Friendship

[Tiff B'eekth]

Location: Denon, Velvet Eclipse

Tiffs journey to find a Master of the Force was a rocky one to say the least. He was a young Jawa not even old enough to drive a Sandcralwer and he was traveling across the galaxy in search for the Master. His Mother who was a shaman for Tiffs tribe foresaw that Tiff will be drowning in darkness but his soul will remain pure and that his abilities must be tempered by a Master of the Force

Tiff didn’t know what his Mother meant by that. Pure soul? Darkness? The only darkness that Tiff was familiar with were the Krayt Dragon caves across the Dune Sea. He and his peers would explore the caves in search for treasure since the stories said that Krystal Dragons loved hoarding treasure in their caves. Tiff remembered feeling the coldness of the cave though his friends insisted that the cave was moist.

The young Jawa had travelled across the galaxy hopping on freighters and doing odd jobs such as weapon and item repairs to get credits. But life traveling in space was a lonely and exhausting experience. Tiff was a stranger traveling on strange lands and the worlds were strange to him. There were no Jawas just tall people who would ignore him or look at Tiff with disdain saying that he was a theiving rat face. Looks like his people didn’t have the best reputation around.

Now Tiff was on a planet called Denon specifically a club called the Velvet Eclipse and he slumped against the couch wondering where to go. There were no signs of the Master of the Force anywhere. Traveling stunk when you don’t have a destination.

<Tiff miss home.> Tiff said to himself.

Vess’ika Klushi

 

[Vess’ika Klushi]

Location: Casino walkway near the lounge, Velvet Eclipse, Denon
Tags: Tiff B'eekth
Current Outfit: Red Sequin Dress

The Velvet Eclipse was alive in the way only places built on excess ever were—light spilling like liquid gold across polished floors, laughter too loud to be entirely genuine, music threading through it all with practiced ease.

And at the center of it, as always, was Vess’ika.

She moved through the casino not as a guest, but as something closer to a fixture—recognized without being approached, admired without being interrupted. A shimmer of deep violet skin beneath soft ambient light, a slow, deliberate stride that suggested she belonged anywhere she chose to be. The performers’ lounge entrance slid shut behind her as she stepped out into the main floor, one hand idly brushing the edge of a passing table as if the entire place existed for her convenience.

Her eyes swept the room. They always did. It didn’t take long to spot him.

Tiff stood out—not because he was loud, but because he wasn’t. In a place designed to devour hesitation, he carried it with him like a second skin. His posture, the way he lingered rather than occupied space, the subtle tension in his shoulders—it all marked him as wrong for this place. Out of place.

Vess’ika tilted her head slightly, studying him for a moment longer than necessary before redirecting her path. A slow approach. Unhurried. Intentional. By the time she reached him, the music had shifted—something smoother, more intimate—and she let that rhythm settle into her posture, her expression, the way her gaze held him. The words were already forming—cool, dismissive, a quiet warning wrapped in velvet. She was going to tell him to move along. To disappear before security noticed. To save himself the embarrassment of being escorted out.

Her lips parted—

—and the translator in her ear chimed softly.

Home.

It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t dramatic. But it was enough. The words she’d intended never came. Something in her expression shifted—not dramatically, not in a way most would catch. Just a slight softening at the edges, a quiet recalibration.

Vess’ika exhaled slowly through her nose, then, without asking, lowered herself onto the couch beside him. Not too close. Not distant either. Deliberate.

The diva dimmed—just slightly. “…that word doesn’t usually come up in here,” she murmured, her voice quieter now, less performance and more person. One leg crossed over the other as she angled toward him, studying his face with a new kind of attention.

“Where are you from?”

 

[Tiff B'eekth]

Tiff jumped when a purple skinned woman sat down in front of him. Tiff shuddered when the woman placed her gaze upon him. All the time travelling and Tiff was still not used to walking among giants. Being a young Jawa, Tiff never got the chance to haggle with outsiders often. Seeing big people stare down gave Tiff an uneasy feeling. It felt like staring up at Krayt Dragon who was ready devour him. <What pretty lady mean?> Tiff said. She did look pretty...... by non-Jawa standards. Tiff knew that when he returned to the clan, he would a wife by a neighboring clan. His parents discussed the matter before Tiff left to unlock his magic. Tiff didn't mind the arranged marriage it was expected for a Jawa to marry and it saved Tiff the pressure of choosing the perfect woman. One would be chosen based on the clan's needs.

<Me Tiff!> Tiff spoke in Jawanese. <I'm from Tatooine! Denon is so noisy and smelly! No sand anywhere!>

Tiff looked at the woman. <Who you?> He asked. <You from here?>

Vess’ika Klushi

 

[Vess’ika Klushi]

Location: Casino walkway near the lounge, Velvet Eclipse, Denon
Tags: Tiff B'eekth
Current Outfit: Red Sequin Dress

Tiff’s reaction didn’t go unnoticed. It rarely did. Vess’ika had grown accustomed to being watched—admired, desired, envied—but this was something else entirely. The flinch, the shudder, the way his small frame seemed to brace under her attention… it wasn’t flattery. It was instinct. Survival.

For a brief moment, she said nothing. Her gaze softened—not out of pity exactly, but something adjacent. Consideration, perhaps. Her translator worked quietly in her ear, converting his Jawanese in real time, smoothing over the gaps between their worlds.

A faint, amused breath escaped her at his first question—what pretty lady mean? There it was again. That slight tilt at the corner of her lips. Not quite a smile. Not quite restraint.

“Careful,” she murmured, her tone low and smooth, a trace of her usual stage-polish returning. “You keep saying things like that, and people might think you’re trying to charm me.” It wasn’t a dismissal. Not entirely. Just enough edge to remind him who she was—who she appeared to be.

But as he continued—Tatooine… noisy… smelly… no sand—something in her expression shifted again, more subtly this time. A flicker of recognition, not of the place itself, but of the sentiment. Displacement. The quiet discomfort of being somewhere that didn’t fit.

Her eyes studied him more carefully now. Not as an anomaly. As a person. When he asked who she was, she didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she leaned back slightly into the couch, one arm resting along the backrest, posture relaxing into something less performative, more deliberate.

“I am from here,” she said at last, voice quieter now, though no less controlled. “Or close enough that it doesn’t make a difference anymore.” A beat. Then her gaze drifted briefly across the casino floor—the lights, the movement, the noise—before returning to him.

“My name is Vess’ika.” She didn’t offer more than that. Not yet. Of course if he had been to the lounge he would have seen her full name advertised. Her eyes flicked down to his small hands, then back up to the glow of his gaze beneath the hood.

“Tatooine’s a long way from here, Tiff,” she added, softer now. “Not the kind of trip someone makes just to complain about the smell.”

A pause. Measured. Curious. “What brought you all this way?”

 

[Tiff B'eekth]

Through his hood, Tiff could see the big lady’s gaze on him. Her eyes sparkled much to his surprise. Many inhabitants on Denon looked at Tiff with scorn and suspicion. The police would harass him on the suspicion of theft. It was something that Tiff found strange, he didn’t take anything all he did was wonder around trying to search for a Force Master. Jawas were never treated the best on Tatooine but other planets seemed to be worse.

<I see you sing.> Tiff told Vess’ika. <You sing better than pretty blue skin lady. Blue skin lady voice hurts Tiffs ears.>

The blue lady whose name was incomprehensible once sang while Tiff was ordering Jawa Juice. She sounded like a drunken Bantha bellowing at the night sky. It was nowhere as smooth and fluid like Vess. <Tiff here because Tiff wants to find Force Master who can help Tiff with his magic.> Tiff said. <Never been to other planets before. So Tiff don’t know about where to look.>

Vess did mention that she was from Denon maybe she can help. <Does lady know where to find Force Master? Tiff don’t know where to go.>

Vess’ika Klushi

 

[Vess’ika Klushi]

Location: Casino walkway near the lounge, Velvet Eclipse, Denon
Tags: Tiff B'eekth
Current Outfit: Red Sequin Dress

The compliment caught her off guard. Not the words themselves—she was used to praise—but the way it was given. Simple. Unfiltered. Entirely sincere. For just a moment, Vess’ika actually blinked.

Then, slowly, something warmer crept into her expression. The faint curve of her lips this time wasn’t measured or practiced—it lingered a little longer, softened her features in a way that stage lights never quite managed.

“Better than the blue skin lady, hm?” she echoed lightly, a quiet note of amusement threading through her voice. Her head tilted, just slightly, as if savoring the comparison. “I’ll choose to take that as a very high compliment.”

There was a flicker of something unmistakable—she was flattered. Not dramatically so, not loudly, but it showed in the way her posture eased, in the way her gaze held his just a fraction more gently than before. Her attention sharpened again as he continued, though—Force Master… magic… doesn’t know where to look. Ah. That.

Vess’ika leaned back slightly, one arm still draped along the couch, fingers tapping idly against the upholstery as she considered him more carefully. Not just out of place now—but searching. And searching for something far more dangerous than a quiet corner in a loud casino.

“The only ones I know who play with things like that,” she said slowly, choosing her words with care, “are the Twin Moons sisters.” A brief pause. Her expression shifted—subtle, but firm. “They wouldn’t take you.” Not cruel. Not dismissive. Just certain. They were an all female group afterall.

Her gaze drifted across the casino floor again, thoughtful now, before returning to him. “There are Jedi on Denon,” she continued, a slight lift of one shoulder following the words. “If you’re looking for… discipline. Guidance. Something structured.”

Another pause. This one longer. “…but I don’t think they’d be a good fit for you either.” There was no judgment in it. Just an instinct she didn’t bother explaining.

Vess’ika studied him for a moment in silence, her fingers stilling against the couch as the weight of his question settled between them. Then she exhaled softly. “My night isn’t finished yet,” she said, her tone shifting again—back toward something more composed, but not as distant as before. “I still have a stage to return to, and people who expect me to be exactly who they paid to see.”

A faint glance toward the lounge. Then back to him. “But when I’m done…” The corner of her lips curved again—this time quieter, more deliberate. “I’ll help you look.” A beat. “You shouldn’t be wandering Denon on your own, Tiff. Not for something like that.”

 

[Tiff B'eekth]

Tiff's heart swelled with joy when Vess said that Denon was teeming with Force Masters. He knew little of the Jedi only that they have laser swords and wear bathrobes. At least Tiff had a lead after weeks of coming up empty. <Yeah blue skinned lady makes Tiff's ears hurt,> Tiff said. <Blue skinned lady needs to singing lessons.>

Vess seemed to be a nice lady. She didn't insult Tiff and she recommended a group called the Moon Sisters. Though Tiff was disheartened when Vess told him that they won't train him. <Tiff just wants to learn magic.> Tiff responded. <Mother has magic and said that I need to seek someone to cultivate the magic I have. Tiff doesn't care who it's from. Tiff wants to train!>

Jedi or not, as long as Tiff has a Master, he'll be fine. Vess was Tiff's only lead though and she seemed interested in helping him which made Tiff excited but a little wary. Why would she go all the way to help a random Jawa like Tiff? <Tiff wait!> Tiff nodded sitting up right. <Tiff likes your singing! Blue skinned lady should learn from you!>

As Vess left, Tiff smiled to himself, his stubby legs softly swaying from the edge of the couch. Things were looking up and Tiff was excited in finally finding a Force Master who can teach him the basics of his magic.

Vess’ika Klushi

 

[Ryssa Uranne]

"Red-Line" Ryssa

Ryssa paused just short of the Velvet Eclipse’s entrance, one hand settling against her hip as her eyes swept up over the towering façade. Light spilled from within in soft purples and golds, catching along the polished metal trim like a lure. For a moment, she simply watched the flow of guests—silks, tailored coats, subtle displays of wealth and influence—before stepping forward to join them.

She didn’t get far. “Name?” one of the guards asked, not unkindly, but with the flat expectation of someone already certain of the answer.

Ryssa gave it anyway, chin tilting just slightly. “Ryssa Uranne.”

A glance passed between the two guards. One checked a datapad, thumb flicking with practiced efficiency. A beat. Then another. “You’re not on the list.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line, but her expression didn’t crack. “Then check again.”

He didn’t. Instead, the second guard leaned in a fraction, gaze dragging over her in a way that was just shy of professional. Assessing. Calculating. “Exclusive place,” he said. “Private tables. High rollers.”

“I gathered that,” Ryssa replied coolly.

Another pause stretched, thicker this time. Then the first guard huffed softly, lowering the datapad. “Look… you’re not on the list. But…” His eyes flicked toward the interior, then back to her, something almost amused tugging at the corner of his mouth. “The clients inside won’t complain. In fact—”[/color] he shrugged, “—some of the male high rollers will probably enjoy the surprise.”[/color]

Ryssa’s gaze sharpened, a flash of irritation cutting through her composure. For a heartbeat, it looked like she might turn around purely out of spite. Instead, she exhaled slowly. “Then I suppose it would be rude of me to deprive them,” she said, voice smooth as glass. The guard smirked and stepped aside.

Inside, the Velvet Eclipse unfolded in layers—sound, light, motion. The hum of conversation blended with music and the rhythmic chime of games in progress. Ryssa moved through it all with deliberate ease, though her attention was anything but relaxed. Her eyes tracked faces, posture, patterns. She wasn’t here for the spectacle.

She was here to find Tiff for Arvos. And somehow, impossibly, that thought alone made her jaw tighten. “How,” she muttered under her breath, weaving past a cluster of laughing patrons, “did some random Jawa get in here without a problem…”

The deeper she went, the more the casino shifted. Flash gave way to something more curated—quieter, more intimate. The lounge. Music drew her the last few steps.

On the small stage, bathed in warm light, a Kuranu woman held the room effortlessly. Purple skin caught the glow, her voice carrying with a richness that softened even the sharpest edges of the crowd. Ryssa slowed, just slightly, as she took it in.

Then her gaze shifted. And there he was. Tiff. Seated, hood up as always, attention fixed forward in a way that looked almost… peaceful. Of all the places she had expected to find him, this had not been one of them.

Ryssa stopped just inside the lounge entrance, arms folding loosely as she watched him for a moment longer than she intended. A faint, incredulous breath escaped her. “Unbelievable,” she murmured to herself, eyes narrowing just a touch. “I get interrogated at the door… and he’s in here enjoying the show.”

Her gaze flicked briefly back to the stage, studying the performer, then returned to Tiff—lingering, curious, and just a little amused despite herself.

RYSSA URANNE
Location: Velvet Eclipse, Denon
Objective: Find a kriffing Jawa
Outfit: Sparkly Casino
Company: Tiff B'eekth | Vess’ika Klushi

​

 

[Arvos Debrack]

“Ryssa are you in?” Arvos spoke into the radio embedded into the small bones of her ear. The Velvet Eclipse was filed with guards armed to the death. One would think it was a military facility given the many mercenaries patrolling the place. But the Velvet Eclipse was a place where criminal gangs would come and make deals or gamble their credits away.

Arvos was banned from the club a year ago when he killed a Sith Lord. He was running a Death Stick Crime Syndicate which was plague on the youth of Denon. Arvos didn’t care about that, he just wanted to kill Sith. One gory mess later, Arvos fulfilled that desire and he left with a ban a large power vaccum that is being filled by fledging crime lords to this day.

Thankfully he had a partner this time: a young pilot named: Ryssa who not only fed him information on targets but was his personal flier throughout the galaxy. Arvos saved her from being a slave to the Hutts and she was assisted him ever since. Now she was entering on his stead as a guest. “Calm down,” Arvos said his voice but a whisper. He was on the edge of a mega tower overlooking the club. Kneeling down, his red mask placed next to him, Arvos used his electrobinoculars to observe the party. Arvos just needed confirmation and to have Ryssa set up the plastic explosives so he can swoop in and nab the target.

“I need you to find the Jawa,” Arvos said. “And determine his coordinites in adjacent to my position. You know what to do.”

He paused frowning at what he just said. “Ryssa,” Arvos said. “There can be no mistakes this time.”

Ryssa Uranne

 

[Vess’ika Klushi]

Location: Casino walkway near the lounge, Velvet Eclipse, Denon
Tags: Tiff B'eekth
Current Outfit: Red Sequin Dress

The Velvet Eclipse’s lounge had a way of making everything feel intentional. Every note of music, every sweep of light, every laugh from the crowd below the stage—it all existed in carefully tuned harmony designed to keep attention exactly where it was wanted. And tonight, that place was Vess’ika Klushi.

She stood at the center of the elevated stage like she belonged to it more than she belonged to gravity itself. The mic stand was unnecessary, but she used it anyway—one hand resting lightly against it as if it were an extension of her will. Her voice carried across the room in smooth, controlled waves, threading through the haze of conversation and clinking credits with practiced ease.

She was in her element. Of course she was. But midway through the set, as she shifted into the next verse, her gaze drifted—just briefly—over the crowd.

And there he was. Tiff. Small. Hooded. Entirely out of place in a room designed to overwhelm anything small or uncertain.

Vess’ika didn’t miss a beat in her song. Not a syllable faltered. But something in her expression changed—barely perceptible to anyone who didn’t know where to look.

A smile. Subtle. Private. So that’s where you ended up. Her memory flickered back to their earlier exchange—his blunt honesty, the way he’d compared her so casually to the “blue skin lady,” and declared her voice better without hesitation or strategy. No flattery shaped for survival. Just preference.

It shouldn’t have mattered. It did anyway. She continued singing, but now there was a faint edge of amusement woven into the performance, as if the song itself had become slightly more personal than intended. Her eyes lingered on him a moment longer before she turned back to the wider audience, reclaiming the room with ease.

When the final notes arrived, she let them hang just a fraction longer than necessary—suspended, deliberate—before releasing them into applause that swelled almost immediately.

The lights dimmed slightly as the set ended. Vess’ika stepped back from the mic like she was stepping out of a role she had simply chosen to discard. And then she saw him again. Still there. Waiting, apparently.

Her smile returned—smaller now, but unmistakably aimed. With a subtle tilt of her head and a barely-there motion of her hand, she signaled him—not toward the main exits, not toward the crowd—but toward a quieter corner of the lounge near the slot machine alcoves where the noise dulled into a comfortable hum.

A place where conversations could exist without performance. By the time she reached him, she had already shed the last traces of stage persona. Not entirely, but enough. She leaned lightly against the edge of a machine that blinked in lazy neon patterns, folding one arm across her midsection as she regarded him.

“You’re going to have a hard time finding anything like a Force Master on Denon,” she said at last, tone calm, practical. “Even the ones who pretend to be something like that usually aren’t worth the credits they charge.”

A pause. Her eyes narrowed slightly—not unkindly, just assessing. “Tell me something,” she added, tilting her head. “Where else have you traveled looking for this?”

 

[Tiff B'eekth]

Tiff remained on the couch his small legs swaying against the edge. Vess returned to the stage and began to sing again and the Jawa's ears were filled with the lyrical inclination that relaxed his being. As he listened, Tiff could see a blonde woman looking around. Tiff could feel a tingle running through his body. It was what he called it whenever he had a bad feeling about something. The blonde woman looked off and listening to his tingle, Tiff felt the urge to leave. So far, his hunches didn't fail him yet but it would be a shame to leave Vess behind.

Speaking of Vess.......

Tiff turned to see the purple skinned woman back on the couch staring at him with a sincere curiosity. <Tiff will need to go off world then.> he said. <Tiff need lead though. Don't want to aimlessly wander the Galaxy.>

He was starting to feel disheartened. All of his searches were starting to fall short. All he wanted was something anything to get a lead. <Tiff been in home.> Tiff said. <Tiff also searched many planets in the Outer Rim and came up empty. Many people look at Tiff and give nasty looks.>

He knew Jawas were disliked but not to this degree. Maybe it was best to stay home. <You said that you help Tiff.> Tiff said. <We need to go finish search on Denon.>

Vess’ika Klushi

 

[Vess’ika Klushi]

Location: Casino walkway near the lounge, Velvet Eclipse, Denon
Tags: Tiff B'eekth
Current Outfit: Red Sequin Dress

Vess’ika listened without interrupting, one shoulder still resting against the softly glowing slot machine beside her. The lounge noise rolled on behind them—music from another act beginning to rise, credits chiming, patrons laughing too loudly into expensive drinks—but her attention remained fixed on the little Jawa.

He was earnest. Painfully earnest. And entirely unequipped for the kind of galaxy he had apparently decided to wander through. When he spoke of needing a lead, of not wanting to drift aimlessly from world to world, she gave a slow, understanding nod. By the time he mentioned the Outer Rim and the nasty looks he kept receiving, her mouth had settled into a thin line.

“Yes,” she said quietly. “People are disappointing that way.” That, at least, she understood. Different species. Different scales. Different assumptions. Most beings saw something small and strange and decided they had already learned everything worth knowing.

Her gaze swept over him once more—not with condescension, but with a kind of resigned practicality. Which meant if Tiff wanted answers, he was going to need someone larger standing next to him. When he reminded her that she had said she would help, Vess’ika lifted one brow, faintly amused despite herself.

“I did say that.” And unlike many promises made in the Velvet Eclipse, she found she actually intended to keep this one. She pushed off from the machine and straightened, smoothing one hand down the side of her gown before folding her arms loosely.

“Then we’ll finish the search on Denon,” she agreed. “And after that, we’ll find a pilot willing to take us somewhere more useful.” The words came out with the matter-of-fact certainty of someone deciding what wine to order, not whether to accompany a Jawa on a Force-sensitive scavenger hunt across the stars.

Still—there it was. Decision made. Vess’ika tilted her head, studying him. “You lead,” she said after a moment. “This is your search, not mine. You tell me who you want to speak to and what places feel right.”

A faint smile touched her lips. “I’ll simply be the person standing beside you so that people stop pretending you’re invisible.” Or worse, dismissible. Because she had already seen enough of that to know how this would go otherwise.

At the mention of continuing on Denon, her mind turned over the few names she actually knew in that sphere. Force users were not her world. Performers, gamblers, criminals, socialites—those she knew. Mystics with glowing swords and philosophical problems? Less so.

But one set of names did come to mind. “We can try to find some Twin Moons,” she said. “I know of a few.” She gave a slight shrug. “They’re all women, which may or may not improve your odds depending on how charming you intend to be.” A brief, teasing glance downward accompanied that. “But they might at least point you in the right direction.”

A pause. “As for the Jedi on Denon…” Vess’ika made a soft, skeptical sound in the back of her throat. “I seriously doubt they’ll be much help.”

Not for him. Not with his odd little magic quest and his Jawa hood and his complete lack of looking like the kind of student any solemn Order would rush to claim.

Her eyes moved back to him, more focused now. “So,” she asked, “where on Denon do you want to start?”

 

[Tiff B'eekth]

A sudden shiver went down Tiff's spine on one hand, it was nice to have a friend to help him on his search. On the other hand, Tiff did worry about having her by his side. Denon was a dangerous place and while Tiff can defend himself, he was sure about Vess. <Does pretty lady know how to fight?> Tiff asked looking up at the woman. <Sound like we go to bad areas on planet?>

If the women on the Twin Moons won't accept Tiff then perhaps a Jedi on Denon could be of assistance. It was worth a shot at least. <How about Jedi?> Tiff asked. <We go to the Jedi and ask! Women on Twin Moons sound like dead end!>

So could the Jedi but Tiff had a good feeling on him. <Let's start now!> Tiff said getting off the chair. <Tiff need to learn powers before going back home!>

Vess’ika Klushi

 

[Vess’ika Klushi]

Location: Casino walkway near the lounge, Velvet Eclipse, Denon
Tags: Tiff B'eekth
Current Outfit: Red Sequin Dress

Vess'ika couldn't help it. She laughed. It wasn't loud or theatrical like the laughter she gave patrons during a performance. It was genuine, warm, and entirely at Tiff's question. "Can I fight?" she repeated, a smile lingering across her lips.

She regarded the little Jawa for a moment before giving an almost playful shrug. "I've never really needed to." One violet brow arched. "Who would want to fight me?"

The question was delivered with effortless confidence rather than arrogance. She earned her living with her voice, her charm, and knowing exactly how to navigate people. In the Velvet Eclipse, arguments were settled by security long before they reached her. Her smile softened as she looked down at him. "I've managed quite well without learning to throw punches."

At the mention of bad areas, she gave a small shake of her head. "No. The Twin Moons aren't in some forgotten alley full of criminals." Her expression grew a touch more thoughtful. "They're actually the best chance we have of finding someone who understands these... powers you're talking about."

She folded her arms loosely. "They may not take you as a student." She was still fairly certain of that. "But they're far more likely to know who would. Sometimes the right question is more valuable than the right answer."

When Tiff suggested going to the Jedi instead, Vess'ika's smile became a little more sympathetic. "The Jedi presence on Denon isn't especially prominent," she explained. "You don't stumble across them the way you do entertainers or merchants."

She paused before adding carefully, "If what you truly want is to become a Jedi..." A slight tilt of her head. "...then I could probably find one for you to speak with. At the very least, I know enough people to learn where they're keeping themselves these days."

She let the thought hang for a moment. "But that's a different search." Her eyes met the glowing lenses beneath his hood. "You've been asking for a Force Master." Not a Jedi. "They aren't necessarily the same thing."

Seeing Tiff hop down from the chair with such determination drew another amused smile from her. "So eager." She pushed herself away from the slot machine, smoothing her dress almost out of habit.

"Very well." Her voice carried the easy confidence of someone accustomed to deciding where the evening would go. "Let's start now." She gestured toward the casino exit. "We'll see if the Twin Moons can give us a direction. If they can't..." she smiled down at him, "...then we'll go hunting for a Jedi."