Obi-Wan Kenobi

Obi-Wan Kenobi moved quietly through the lower levels of Coruscant, his hood drawn low over his face. The usual noise of the undercity hummed around him—buzzing signs, distant speeders, the occasional shout from a market stall. But his focus was elsewhere.

He stepped into a dim cantina tucked between two crumbling towers, eyes scanning the crowd. Most barely gave him a glance, too caught up in their own dealings to notice a robed stranger. At the bar, he leaned in toward the grizzled bartender.

"I'm looking for someone," Obi-Wan said plainly. "An aqualish. Goes by Marnik. Separatist ties. Been asking about transport off-world."