**Chapter 802: Cantina Confessions**
**Scene 1: Coruscant – 79's Cantina**
**Anakin POV**
79's was a cantina located on the Galactic Republic's capital world of Coruscant. Offering alcoholic beverages, loud music, and several vidscreens for viewing sporting events, the bar was a bustling establishment popular with a segment of Coruscant's nightlife. Following the authorization of military leave for the clone troopers of the Republic's Grand Army, 79's became known for its frequent patronage by the clone soldiers during the later years of the galaxy-spanning Clone Wars.
Now, it was a place for Anakin Skywalker to drown his sorrows.
He sat at the bar in civilian clothes, hood pulled low, staring into the amber liquid in his glass. The divorce papers had been filed. The secret marriage that had defined so much of his life for the past two years was officially over. Padmé had signed without hesitation. The finality of it still burned in his chest.
He downed the drink in one go and signaled for another.
The bartender — a grizzled Weequay — slid a fresh glass across the counter without comment. Clones filled most of the tables, laughing and swapping war stories. Anakin envied their simplicity. No attachments. No secrets. Just brothers and the war.
A familiar presence approached. Anakin didn't need to look up.
"Rough night, kid?" Nhon Artu's voice cut through the noise as the large Jedi Master slid onto the stool beside him.
Obi-Wan followed a moment later, looking equally weary. "We thought we might find you here."
Anakin gave a bitter laugh. "News travels fast in the Temple."
**Scene 2: Old Friends and Hard Truths**
Nhon ordered a round for all three of them. "Cheer up, kid. It's not that bad."
"Not that bad?" Anakin echoed, voice rough. "I just ended my marriage. The woman I risked everything for… and she chose the Senate over me. Over us."
Obi-Wan took a measured sip of his drink. "As your Master — and fellow Council member — I say finally let the Force set you free."
Anakin looked at him, surprised. "You're taking this better than I expected."
"I've had my own share of complicated attachments," Obi-Wan admitted quietly. "And Dagon's reforms have… changed things. The old Code was never going to survive this war."
Nhon chuckled darkly. "You look worse than me, Master Kenobi. What happened?"
Obi-Wan downed his cup in one go. "Oh, Obi-Wan wanted to figure out if he could reopen his relationship with Satine. You know, Duchess of Mandalore. Only there are a few problems."
"What problems?" Anakin asked. "I thought planetary rulers could make their own rules."
"Yes, about that," Nhon said, signaling for another round. "Apparently, even though Yoda is Mand'alor and Dagon is… well, Dagon, any other Jedi would run into problems."
Obi-Wan stared into his empty glass. "The problem being that, no — to marry into Mandalorian society, you must become Mandalorian. It's an age-old tradition for outsiders, which are rare. And there's more. It has to do with Mandalore's history with the Republic and the Jedi."
"Bottom line," Nhon said bluntly, "Obi-Wan will have to leave the Jedi Order. Same as Yoda if he ever wanted to make it official."
"Dagon said he would try and find a workaround for Kenobi," Obi-Wan added. "Probably one in the Sith or old Jedi holocrons has a legal loophole. Or not."
**Scene 3: New Beginnings**
Anakin stared at his drink, the weight of the conversation settling over him.
"Well, in the meantime, I should probably look for a new relationship," he said, half-joking, half-serious.
"I wouldn't rush it," Nhon warned with a grin. "First, remember you've got to sort out your attachment issues. Or just go for someone with the same issues as you — with your messed-up childhood."
Anakin downed his fifth cup. The alcohol burned pleasantly, dulling the ache.
"Same issues. Great idea," he muttered. "Well, Master, I'm off to find a girlfriend."
He stood, a little unsteady, and hailed a passing service droid for a taxi.
"That boy has no sense at all," Obi-Wan sighed as Anakin disappeared into the Coruscant night.
"Ehh, it worked for Dagon. Sort of," Nhon said, raising his glass in a mock toast.
The two Masters sat in companionable silence for a while, the noise of 79's washing over them. Clones laughed at nearby tables. Music thumped. Vidscreens showed highlights of distant battles.
Obi-Wan finally spoke. "Do you think he'll be alright?"
Nhon shrugged. "He's Skywalker. He'll either burn the galaxy down or save it. Probably both. But at least now he's free to choose."
Outside, Anakin stepped into the waiting air taxi, the cool Coruscant night air clearing some of the haze from his mind.
No more secrets. No more hiding.
The Force felt… lighter.
He gave the droid driver an address — one of the mid-level districts where off-duty officers and Temple staff sometimes mingled.
"Drive," Anakin said.
The future was uncertain. But for the first time in years, it felt like his own.
**Later – Temple Balcony**
**Dagon POV (Observing from Afar)**
I stood on a high balcony of the Jedi Temple, the girls quietly gathered around me. Below, the lights of Coruscant stretched endlessly. I could sense Anakin's presence moving through the city — turbulent, grieving, but finally free.
"He did it," I said quietly. "Signed the papers. Chose honesty over secrecy."
Ahsoka leaned against my side. "Think he'll be okay?"
"He'll struggle," I replied. "But that's how growth happens. The Chosen One was always going to walk a difficult path. At least now it's one of his own choosing."
Miaria's tail flicked. "And Padmé?"
"She chose the Senate," Sakura said softly. "Some people can't let go of power, even when it costs them everything."
I nodded, pulling the girls closer. The war continued. The CIS was fracturing. Hutt space burned. Pammant was in ruins. But here, in this moment, with the women who had chosen me without reservation, the weight felt bearable.
"Whatever comes next," I said, "we face it together."
The Dragon of the Republic looked out over the glowing city, the future uncertain but no longer alone.