The bar is small, painted in deep, dark colors and dimly lit, a little busier than its exterior would suggest. Hera spots a couple surveillance droids floating along the ceiling, and she keeps her face carefully turned down as she searches for a space to sit. The only open table is next to the group they'd watched enter. She nudges Kanan toward it.

The table is metal, a small circle drilled to the floor, two narrow chairs next to it and a flickering, imitation candle at the center of it. The moment they sit down, a serving droid brings menus and two glasses of water. With ice.

Hera still stares at the glasses for a second, before looking down to the menu. "At least the water's free," she notes.