Celtar uttered a word of thanks as the bartender begrudgingly poured him another drink, this one significantly cheaper and less fancy. It didn't matter to Celtar, both because his aim was to avoid getting drunk and because his attention had been drawn to the front doors opening and the few heavily armed thugs stepping through them. Great, thought Celtar. Just what I needed, to be drawn into a meeting with the Hutts. Celtar hated meetings, especially when he had better things to do.
If his quick estimate was correct, he'd lose at least an hour waiting for their boss to become available, at least another hour or two explaining everything to the Hutts, and at least an hour making his way back. Add in all the extra time it would take to reestablish his presence here at the bar, plus the fact that any potentially involved beings would probably have come and gone and Celtar felt his chances of success dwindling to next to nothing. He hated talking with the Council anyway but this definitely wasn't a report he wanted to make. He took the job because he was close but also because he figured an investigation with a self-proclaimed group of perpetrators would be interesting but easy. If he was careful, he could probably produce his lightsaber, promise to meet with Brogga when he had the perpetrator, and buy himself a few hours, all without a significant disruption to his cover identity. While that was a big if, Celtar was confident enough he'd be able to pull it off.
The thugs began interviewing people and with each interview came more and more fingers pointing at Celtar. While he was simply standing at the bar and sipping his drink, he could feel more and more attention being turned his way. Celtar reached down to his belt and subtly moved his hand past his blaster to where his lightsaber had been hooked onto his belt. The Knight had to act quickly to hide the look of panic that wanted to cross his face because, while he'd expected to feel the familiar form of his lightsaber hilt, he had instead found empty air. He could hear his former Master now and, were the situation not as concerning, Celtar could almost smile. This weapon is your life, Celtar, try not to lose it. It was a common lesson when he was a young and inexperienced Padawan, if only because Celtar tended to set it down to work on something and then be pulled away by a stroke of genius, intuition, or necessity. He could remember many evaluations that started with 'Celtar will be a great Jedi when he remembers not to leave his lightsaber sitting around where anyone could grab it.' The thought almost brought another smile to his face, though the fact that his lightsaber was missing was causing him enough distress that he was able to hide it behind a concerned look. Where could it have gone? thought the Knight, retracing his steps but remembering that he had felt his lightsaber against his body right before the fight.
He reached out with the Force, looking past the living energy in the room and searching for his lightsaber. After years of attuning and using it, he knew he would be able to track it across most planets, though Nar Shaddaa wasn't most planets. The sheer energy present on the Smuggler's Moon would make it difficult if it got too far away, if not impossible. Celtar began his search by scanning the room around him. There hadn't been enough time for anyone to leave thanks to the arrival of the thugs and the fact that nobody had it in the cantina area was reassuring. Stretching outward in front of him, towards the back of the store, he felt the familiar response of the crystals within the lightsaber. He tried to figure out who had stolen it and figure out their intentions, though he felt nothing. Interesting, thought Celtar. The way it was moving told him that somebody was carrying it, though he felt nothing. The way the crystals seemed to ebb and flow, as if surrounded by nothingness, was interesting. If it was another Jedi or a Force Sensitive, he should have been able to feel their presence in the Force, though he felt nothing.
He swore mentally as a large hand grasped his shoulder and forcibly turned him around, snapping him from his reverie. "<<They say you fought those men, why?>>" The question, spoken in Huttese, was direct, at least, a reprieve from the recent avoidance, subversion, and misdirection that the trade ambassadors had been keen to rely on. "<<They started it, I think they were trying to feel me up.>>" One of the thugs, a Rodian, chuckled, though he was silenced by a smack to the back of his head by his Zabrak compatriot. The one talking to Celtar was a Twi'lek, his head-tails twitching as Celtar felt him trying to determine Celtar's sincerity.
"<<We've received complaints, you'll have to come with us,>>" said the Twi'lek, beckoning to Celtar with one hand while revealing a blaster with the other. "<<How about I pay for the damages, plus some for your time and trouble, and I finish up and leave?>>" Again, the Knight reached out with the Force as he sweetened his words. He made the standard offer very tempting, making himself seem as not worth the time and trouble needed to deal with a down-on-his-luck smuggler when they could get the same effect and walk away with a few extra credits. The Twi'lek considered his options, looking quickly between his comrades and then looking over at the barkeeper. While Celtar couldn't see the man nod, he knew he had been successful when the Twi'lek reached out his empty hand. Celtar dropped a credit chit into it and then passed one to the bartender. The Rodian stepped forward, his hand outstretched, though Celtar shot him a deadpan glare. "<<Don't press your luck, I'm already going to have to work for scraps just to afford the taxi out of the sector.>>" In response, all three of the thugs laughed, uttered a few insults in Huttese, and left.
Celtar uttered an apology to the bartender and finished his drink. He started making his way to the door and, using the Force to become just another face in the crowd, he ducked off to the side and into the kitchen area. He put on his wide-brimmed hat, a habit he'd picked up as a Padawan in an attempt to impress his Master, and made his way to where he felt his lightsaber and the nothing that surrounded it. While he wasn't as good as many, Celtar was familiar with the idea of simply becoming unimportant and using the Force to reinforce that idea. He knew plenty of Knights who could disappear into the background while standing front and center and being actively looked for, though he simply needed to ignore the overworked kitchen staff who were working hard to put out a fire that had started on one of the grills.
The Knight came to a stop next to a cabinet, the pulsating energy of his lightsaber confirming that it was inside the grey durasteel cupboard. It was still surrounded by nothing and, for a moment, he considered opening the door with his blaster drawn. As soon as the idea entered his mind, he felt the Force actively tell him that it wasn't necessary. While he didn't like the idea of exposing himself to a potentially trained opponent without a weapon in his hand, he trusted in the Force and its guidance. Squatting down, he pulled open the cabinet door and his eyes laid upon a small child. The lightsaber was off to the side, discarded in favor of a number of credit chits that were splayed out in front of her. Celtar pulled his lightsaber into his hand and locked eyes with the child. "You're good," he started, a smile forming on his stubbled face. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you knew exactly when to take both this and that bag of credit chits. You hungry?"