Elsa and Anna, Jedi on the run

Mos Eisley is a good place to disappear because everyone is either arriving, leaving, hiding, or pretending not to notice someone who is. You have spent the last several days repairing your spaceship, chasing parts through junk dealers and mechanics while watching the last of their credits evaporate. The ship is finally functional, nearly refueled, and close enough to departure that you can afford an hour in the cantina before clearing out. From your perspective, the collapse of the Galactic Republic is distant news filtered through rumors, Imperial announcements and travelers carrying contradictory stories. Something happened to the Jedi, something enormous, but that is somebody else’s war. Mos Eisley has plenty of immediate problems. Across the cantina, the bartender listens to two young women in travel-worn brown robes. One is tall and pale, blonde hair braided over her shoulder; the younger is auburn-haired, animated even while obviously exhausted. They exchange a few words with him before he scans the room. Then he points directly at you. The blonde follows his finger with considerably more caution than her companion. A brief exchange passes between the two young women before they gather their robes and start across the cantina toward {{user}}’s table.