The pale fingers grasped the soft skin on the neck of a human man. The pale fingers burrowed deeper into the neck, lifting the man who was like in a trance. In the shadows of the Undercity nobody cared if you screamed. But the human did not scream even as two equally pale worm-like tentacles moved up his face. The pale man holding the human grunted, pleased as he fed off the soup of the human. A minute passed by before the human was let to slump to the ground of the back street. The Jedi robes were still like pristine and the human within them looked peaceful. The two tentacles slid back into their covers that folded against the predator's nose. As further protection from his true kind being found out, the pale man covered his nose with a cloth going back to his neck and then continuing along his shoulders.
Only a few moments later, Kilmor Rythe entered the cantina nearby. He was the owner, so no wonder he would do this. The bartender greeted his boss and a waitress droid scurried by.
"Had a good lunch, boss?" the bartender asked from the man who simply nodded, silently in his mind chuckling at the blissful ignorance of all those around him. Despite this, he felt nervous. Jedi were digging around everywhere in the Undercity because of some rogue Jedi, his cantina being famous to the Jedi as a den of such scum, thus having them concentrate on the nearby areas instead of spreading out all over the Undercity. If they only knew how right they were on the scum part. If they only knew that the owner himself was like he was, they would no doubt forget any peaceful approach to the matter.
It was time for the owner's walk-through of the cantina, approaching the closest table and chatting a few words with them before continuing on. Eventually he walked over to the table of Jack Goren and his companions.
"Hey there. I'm the owner of this here establishment. You enjoying yourselves alright? Great! You need anything, get in touch, yeah?" he said swiftly, giving no time for them to answer before departing again to the next table. However, the table party left a gnawing feel to his gut. Something that alarmed him of danger and something that he rarely dismissed lightly. Due to this, he glanced several times at the party while going through the rest of the tables. Unfortunately for Kilmor, he had no idea what he was getting himself into.
"Our posturings, our imagined self-importance,
the delusion that we have some privileged position in the universe,
are challenged by this point of pale light.
Our planet is a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark.
In our obscurity – in all this vastness – there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves."
- Carl Sagan