CLOAKED

In the accounting chamber of the Galactic Cloak Repository, a roughly textured homespun cloak came flying in and landed in a rumpled heap on the floor.

"What the—" Graven exclaimed. "This is not proper procedure! I wish they'd stop doing it!"

"At least it saves us from collection trips. I still haven't gone to pick up the Kylo's on Crait." Lliada examined it. "Jedi Master Skywalker. Oh! He's gone into the Force!"

"He's what?!" Graven grabbed the cloak and shook it, hoping Skywalker would fall from its folds. "They're supposed to take their cloaks with them!"

"Try telling them that. They just do what they please."

"Careless, completely careless. If they knew what we go through..." Graven sighed. "Well, it's not in bad shape. It can be reused."

"Not the nicest fabric," Lliada observed.

"He had no taste, never did." He thrust it back at her. "Put it next to the Jabba Palace and that horrible Late Kenobi, same rough fabrics. Shove it to the back, we probably won't need it again."

"I wish we had his father's...the last one," Lliada said wistfully. "That was gorgeous."

"Figures." Graven scowled. "The best cloak in history and he took it with him. And then he didn't even use it! He wore some krit-foresaken spirit cloak from years earlier."

"I know." Lliada began entering the latest cloak into the database. "He should've left it for Luke."

"He should've left it for us," he corrected.

She sighed. "Do you want me to assign this a number?"

"Why start that again? I gave up numbering almost sixty years ago. There were just too many at once." He considered the Clone War and the Jedi annihilation. "At least we got rid of a lot of spirit cloaks then, made room in the inventory."

END