Chapter Text
As it happened, there was no reason to tax the engines. Koth's mysterious contact had left a message indicating that they had been diverted to Rattatak and would be delayed, and with no reason to rush, they meandered off their original course taking a less direct route.
Their resultant dawdling made for a quiet and comfortable journey, and allowed Obi-Wan the opportunity to teach cosmological geography lessons en route, with practical exercises skirting the edges of wild space and showing his padawan how to navigate using the older spacefaring charts.
Anakin took to astrogation like he took to most things technical. The complicated mathematics of space travel which left Obi-Wan cold seemed to ignite a fire in his padawan. Anakin loved this hands-on learning using the ancient manual equipment, and Obi-Wan had no trouble engaging him in learning the fundamental skills. This delight in the practical physics of space travel continued even when Obi-Wan was otherwise engaged; Anakin took to pestering Master Koth ferociously to let him practise navigating, and the two were often to be found in the cockpit, trying out the things Obi-Wan had been teaching him. The boy was not averse to learning the mathematical theory either, which greatly surprised his master, who found himself rather harshly enforcing the rest of his lesson schedule to ensure Anakin's education had some variety.
Of course, the trip wasn't all flying lessons and sparring. After only two standard days into the voyage, Anakin came to Obi-Wan with a dilemma.
"Master, he's cold," he said, indicating the bundle of clothing in his arms, from which a crumpled little red face poked. "I keep finding him in the vents."
Obi-Wan glanced at the little tach, sensing his padawan's pity for the creature. "And how are you going to solve that problem, Anakin?" he prompted.
Anakin, not expecting the responsibility to be laid on his own shoulders, was nevertheless stymied only for a little while — he soon set up a small food crate with some of his own outgrown clothing as bedding in the engine room, one of the warmest areas of the Belle. Unfortunately, since the tach then showed a disinclination to come out of the cosy crate, even for food, Anakin came back bothering Obi-Wan about it before the week was out.
"I think he needs a little jacket, Master. You could make one out my old tunics, I think. This one is pretty warm, and it's too tight on my shoulders, or maybe these?" Anakin held up the now too-small leg-coverings the Nubian tailors had made for him only a year ago. "Please, Master?"
Obi-Wan's first thought was that he was no tailor. His second thoughts were mostly motivated by the desire to stifle Koth's amusement, and thus he ended up saying, "Well, I don't really know what I'm doing, Padawan, but I'll give it a try."
It took Obi-Wan almost another week to design something he was happy with. After some trial and a great many errors in the planning stage, he eventually took off his own robe to see how it was put together. Then, reducing the donated fabrics to flat pieces ready to be sewn, Obi-Wan went to find the medical droid and enlist its help for the practical part.
Not one to sit idle, in the intervening time Anakin had installed the medical field cabinet in the rear port hold, handily close to the droid charging stations positioned along one side wall the second day after leaving Kamino. That hold was rapidly becoming a mechanic's paradise, for the boy had already set up a rudimentary worktable in there which housed all manner of mechanical oddments. It looked surprisingly tidy, considering it was the place where Anakin gravitated when he wanted time to himself. He was of the everything-at-my-fingertips school of thought regarding workplace etiquette, and had not yet fully accepted the benefit of Obi-Wan's preferred everything-in-its-place methodology. But he had also hoisted his speeder up into the ceiling with a pulley — keeping the floor space clear — so perhaps he was learning.
Surprised not to see Anakin there, Obi-Wan awoke the little droid from its charging station.
"I know you can sew," Obi-Wan encouraged, as he preceded it back to the main hold. "And I would appreciate your expertise on this project."
AZ-182697810882129766104 blinked its bright photoreceptors at the odd shapes of fabric in front of him. "This is not my area of expertise," it corrected.
"Your expertise exceeds mine," Obi-Wan coaxed anxiously. "You have experience with stitching at least, and Anakin is not going to mind if it doesn't look like it came from a shop."
Invoking Anakin's name seemed to work, and though it took longer than expected, soon enough a small vest and a tiny cloak-shaped creation were manufactured. Obi-Wan then wrestled the little tach into the clothing with parental vigour and set him down, after a pause pulling down the little hood. The little tach pulled it up again immediately and stared back at his benefactor insolently.
"Have it your way," Obi-Wan remarked tartly, before turning to the medical droid. "Thank you for your help with the sewing."
"I am happy to help, Jedi," said AZ-182697810882129766104, bobbing respectfully and zooming back to its charging port.
"Although I do wonder," Obi-Wan mused aloud, now doubting the wisdom of his simple design as the result looked rather familiar, "if perhaps something a little less Jedi might have been a better plan."
The little tach sat on the side and peered at him from under the hood while Obi-Wan inspected his work. He offered the creature a slice of the pika he was eating, which was accepted gratefully, long red fingers stealing another slice for later. The little vest was snug but comfortable and added a good layer of warmth, and the cloak was maybe a little overlarge with too much draping fabric, but it did not seem to hinder him climbing around, he noticed, as the tach swung himself down silently. No, the clothing would be fine until they reached a biome more suited to his tropical requirements.
As the tach shuffled off in his new warm clothing, Obi-Wan distracted himself by making spice cakes and kakku-caf, filling the galley with such warm delicious scents that when he actually removed the cakes from the oven not half an hour later, he turned around to find both Anakin and Koth sat at the galley table, waiting with hopeful and expectant smiles, the child Obi-Wan refused to call Alpha sleeping peacefully in Koth's arms.
"I suppose neither of you want to wait for latemeal," he remarked, setting the hot tray down and whisking the cakes onto a cooling tray.
Anakin and Koth shared a sceptical glance at the foolishness of preferring anything other than fresh warm spice cakes, but Obi-Wan had the feeling that they would return for whatever he put on the table.
"I like what you've done in the hold," Obi-Wan said, setting the caf-pot on the table with three cups.
"What have you been doing in the hold?" Koth asked, lifting the pot to pour.
"Sorting it out," Anakin replied, stealing a cake as soon as Obi-Wan set the board onto the table. "I've got a workbench now, and I've opened a couple of the crates. Can I have the butter, Obi?"
"Please," Obi-Wan said, holding the butter for ransom.
"Please and thank you," Anakin smiled angelically.
Obi-Wan handed it over and sat down, taking a long draught of the kakku-caf to stave off a yawn. Anakin handed his master a buttered spice cake just to be polite, but ruined his play at manners by shoving another into his own mouth whole. Obi-Wan cast his eyes to the ceiling and ate his own daintily. Anakin, you are in company, he reproved silently. Anakin, eyeing Koth and clearly dismissing him as an authority figure, grinned and buttered another two cakes, neither of which he offered to his master as he wolfed them down greedily.
Further reproof was interrupted as the little tach mooched back into the main hold slowly.
Koth choked hoarsely on cake crumbs.
Completely dwarfed in his new attire, and climbing about with the careful dignity that befitted a much older creature, the little tach made his way onto the counter where the fruit sat.
"You finished it!" Anakin praised. "Now he can be warm, and stay out of the engine couplings."
Koth's eyes widened comically as the little tach chose a pika and sat down to eat it, watching them carefully, his wise little eyes peering out of the tiny red face under the hood.
There was a snort of laughter. "Obi-Wan, you utter reprobate. Have you no respect at all for your lineage?"
Obi-Wan, knowing exactly what Koth was seeing, flushed indignantly.
Anakin, however, cackled. "He does look like Yoda, Master!"
"Darth Yoda," Koth muttered unrepentantly. Obi-Wan choked on air.
"He is perfect!" Anakin announced happily, leaping up from the table and picking up the little tach to sit on his shoulders. "Thanks, Master!" He liberated another couple of cakes for the journey and disappeared into the bowels of the ship.
"I hope he'll be safe with the Dark Lord," Koth commented. "Are you sure -"
Obi-Wan threw a cake at him.
Koth caught it automatically and lowered it to his plate with a grin. "My thanks, youngling."
*
With his padawan often occupied with his own projects or practise, Obi-Wan seized every opportunity to slink away into a comfortable nook and read, often with the baby Mandalorian sleeping on his chest. His current absorption was taking apart Jedi Grand Temple: A History, originally a short architectural tome, but now an oversized grimoire with five thousand years of carefully curated appendices. Happily for Obi-Wan, most of it was updated in Basic. Jocasta Nu being the scholar she was, however, had kept the original language included for veracity. And Obi-Wan found himself distilling most of the essential elements he discovered into short anecdotes for Anakin whenever he had the boy's attention in a quiet moment.
For example, while it was well known that the sacred spire at the Temple's centre, the pinnacle of the mountain on which it was built, had originally been a light-side vergence, what was not so well known was that it was now a hollowed web of passageways and chambers leading down into the mountain, deeper by far than any one might suspect. It was in one of these chambers that the Sith had created their shrine, the one found by the Council not so long since.
The insidious feeling that such a network of catacombs might house-darker secrets than one shrine made Obi-Wan reconsider the future of the Coruscant Temple as a sanctuary. As a padawan, after setting one up with Qui-Gon and the Wookiees on Alaris Prime, he had become interested in Jedi temples, and kept detailed notes in a journal about ones he learned of, and not a few which were being abandoned in his lifetime. It seemed like the Jedi were, as Qui-Gon occasionally used to remark, isolating themselves at the heart of the Republic, only venturing out on Republic business. His Master was disapproving. It was a dangerous path to walk, he said, to be separated from the people of the galaxy whose champions they were as guardians of peace and justice. Obi-Wan resolved to speak to Koth about it some more. And Anakin, of course, his future was the Jedi Order. It would be important that his generation were apprised of the changes that had been made — that the Jedi Order had bent and swayed to the diktats of power, trusting too easily in the leaders, and not in the Force.
He said as much to Anakin one evening, pointing out that almost the entirety of the Jedi treasury of knowledge was stored in the Temple library. "As good as Madame Nu is, she cannot be expected to rewrite all the knowledge of the Jedi should catastrophe strike," he said, tapping a rhythm into the boy's shoulder.
Whether Anakin appreciated the effort he went to, Obi-Wan would have been hesitant to affirm, since invariably his entire focus was on Obi-Wan's milk in their quiet moments, but his apprentice was essentially a captive audience during these sessions and since he would sometimes make the occasional comment on the topic at hand, Obi-Wan felt it was more useful than not.
*
Surprising no-one, Anakin was progressing nicely with his saberwork.
Eeth Koth invited himself into the training sessions occasionally, and Obi-Wan allowed himself to stand back as the Zabrak tested his padawan's skill, showing him how to temper his aggressive action with more tight discipline in his movement, so that his advances were less wild and reckless, and more that cold and deadly control which Dooku seemed to wield so effortlessly. It was a process, but Obi-Wan was pleased to see Anakin listening to the wiser Jedi master and trying. Already, he seemed to be developing a kind of peace when waiting to strike. Obi-Wan privately judged that sparring with Anakin was going to hurt sooner rather than later.
It was difficult to do too much physical sparring aboard ship, since there was not unlimited space, but having Koth around meant that Anakin could access as much training as he wanted. And Anakin, conscious of a good excuse to avoid reading the boring texts Obi-Wan left him, was eager to embrace the physical.
It was rather foolish of him, Obi-Wan thought snippily, since the tome he'd assigned his padawan was The Guide to Lightsaber Mastery and if Anakin had bothered to read the title at least, he was sure the boy would be knee deep in the theory already, but perhaps he was being negative — they had only been out here three weeks, and fifteen days were not so very long a time, after all — on second thoughts, perhaps that was more time to be ignoring his responsibilities than Obi-Wan liked. Soon he would insist on it, he decided. In the meantime, his apprentice could practise the kai-kan with him. As the two on the floor finished their set, he stood up and shrugged off his robe.
"Again, Anakin," he said, igniting his saber and settling easily into Shii Cho's first position.
*
It was only the following day that Obi-Wan reminded Anakin of his studies. Somewhat unsubtly, he laid the datapad next to Anakin's breakfast dish while the boy was eating his polta.
Anakin's miserable groan didn't soften his master's resolve.
"I want you to read a chapter before you leave the table, Ani."
Obi-Wan reached out and touched an icon. The title appeared on the screen in bright letters. Anakin made an interested grunt and pulled the pad toward himself.
Obi-Wan nodded approvingly and cleared the dishes, then went to see to the Mandalorian's child.
Bho bachgen, my sweet one — as Obi-Wan had taken to calling the Mandalorian's child, and the others had followed suit as if he'd named him — was starting to spend a little less time sleeping. He generally woke in the night, perhaps in the third hour, for a feed, but settled again quickly, and was fine again until mid-morning. With them travelling so much, the lack of true daylight was an issue for the child's development of natural circadian rhythms, and Obi-Wan was concerned to find a planet they could feel more at home on, once they had discharged their passenger, of course.
Still, despite the artificial lighting, Bho bachgen's dark eyes were open and focusing on him when he came into view.
"Bho bachgen, you are awake already!" Obi-Wan rumbled gently as he picked the boy up. "And not screaming today! This is a welcome change, bho khetan." My darling.
Bho bachgen gurgled back at him urgently, kicking his legs.
"Oh, I can smell it, little one. Don't you worry, we will get you all cleaned up in a trice."
He laid the waterproof membrane on the bed and put the babe down. A second set of clothing at hand, he proceeded to clean up the mess and wash him clean. "You like that, huh? I expect you will enjoy a bath one of these days. We must take you to Naboo for awhile. I know some young ladies who will enjoy spoiling a little man."
"Yaa ya yyah," Bho bachgen replied, his tongue sticking out.
"That's the attitude," Obi-Wan nodded, changing the baby's clothing for the new set. "Not that I know when we're going to get time to visit. Speaking of which, I do need to talk to Dooku about you. Master Koth thinks I should have left you with the Kaminoans, you know."
Bho bachgen pursed his lips and raised an eyebrow, kicking his legs.
"You think that was an option, do you?" Obi-Wan retorted. "I am not so sure. I have a bad feeling about that place. Your father notwithstanding, of course," he added as an afterthought. "I'm sure he was doing his best in a strange situation."
With the baby changed, he lifted him up and set him against one shoulder as he tidied up, putting the soiled clothing into the recycler to clean.
With Dooku on his mind, Obi-Wan set off to send a message to the old man. He wrote it, rather than sending a holomessage. Dooku could learn of his latest acquisition without seeing the baby drooling into his shoulder.
After sending the short missive, Obi-Wan made a pot of tea and regaled Bho bachgen with a minor discourse about the important difference between steeping and stewing. He was still dandling the baby on his knee when Koth wandered into the main hold.
"I thought I smelt something exotic," he said. "Is that Hosnian Gold?"
"I thought we should live a little," Obi-Wan smirked. He held up Bho bachgen so the baby's chubby legs could move, learning to stand —or dance, perhaps— on Obi-Wan's thighs and smiled into his face. "Isn't that so, Bho bachgen?"
"Gaah yaa aa," said Bho bachgen, reaching out and grabbing Obi-Wan's nose with tiny fingers.
Obi-Wan widened his eyes expressively and pretended to sneeze. "Aaah-choo!"
Bho bachgen let go of his nose and blinked hard, before sneezing himself.
"Force be with you, little man," Obi-Wan smiled. "That was a big noise. I wonder what the Mandalorians would say?"
"K'oyacyi?" Koth offered.
"Stay alive?" Obi-Wan raised his brows.
"Or cheers," Koth nodded.
"Sounds good, either way," Obi-Wan agreed. "K'oyacyi, Bho bachgen. I begin to think I should practise my Mando'a so you start learning it, what do you think, ad'ika?"
Bho bachgen grabbed for his nose again, and Obi-Wan moved his head just in time. "I'm going to take that as as affirmative, and not the declaration of war you are clearly making, sweet one."
"Here, let me take him," Koth opened his arms for the child, his face already softening into a fatherly smile. "Come and spend some time with Eeth, Bo backen."
Obi-Wan did not wince at his pronunciation, because he had excellent manners. He handed his charge over, and the baby gurgled delightedly as his hands grabbed for Koth's horns.
"He is a menace," Obi-Wan observed, as Koth gently removed the baby's fingers with the Force.
"He's a treasure," Koth answered, nuzzling in towards the baby's face and planting a kiss. "A perfect little hostage that the Mandalorian will kill us for taking."
Obi-Wan breathed out through his nose, ignoring the cooing that was going on. "That's not going to happen, you enormous pessimist. He's not a— a captive, he's just — under different guardianship for a while."
"Oh, that makes it just fine, then," Koth singsonged as Bho bachgen gurgled back at him. "Doesn't it, Little Fett'ika? Your buir will understand that the crazy jetii over there is not a kidnapping menace to society. Your buir the bounty hunter!"
Obi-Wan sighed and waved away the concern as he got up. Jango Fett was obviously on Koth's mind as a threat, but he'd left a message with the Kaminoans to pass on, and, receiving that, Fett's likely first port of call would be to seek out Dooku. That's even if he had returned to Kamino and got the message yet.
Putting his cup away, he went in search of Anakin for some velocities, preparing a little quiz in his head about the chapter the boy had read.
And yet another week went by in this manner until suddenly Anakin had completed the first section of the book and Obi-Wan decided it was past time to add formal Makashi training to the boy's repertoire.
*
Obi-Wan had fed Bho bachgen, and the young Mandalorian child was deeply asleep by the time Anakin returned to their quarters after latemeal. He was interrupted from his study of the Eriadu trade conference massacre when Anakin sidled through the door and disappeared into the 'fresher briefly. He put the pad aside with a stifled yawn and waited for his padawan to reappear.
"I think there must be a glitch in Cybot Galactica's algorithms," Anakin remarked, dropping his clothes on the floor, climbing into bed and teasing the ribbon loose on Obi-Wan's robe. He laid down on his side, reaching forward to take a taut nipple in his mouth with a sigh, tongue pressing the underside against the roof of his mouth as he sucked a generous pull of milk.
"Oh?" Obi-Wan murmured, wondering what had upset Anakin. Obi-Wan was no expert on any droid manufacturers. He slid a hand into the boy's too-long hair and carded his fingers through the smooth curling strands. "Have they gone the way of the Czerka Corporation?"
He felt Anakin grin against his breast and smiled. Their history lessons were at least well-remembered.
The opposite, Anakin began. An assassin droid would be cool. Those two are driving me mad.
"What's Threepio been doing?" Obi-Wan asked curiously. "I thought he got along well with Artoo."
For a given value of well, Anakin rolled his eyes mentally. It's not Artoo though, it's OhFour. They got on okay for a bit, but now they're both trying to mother me.
"Wait, who is OhFour?" Obi-Wan asked. "Did you finish the battle droid?"
Anakin growled a negative. I don't have limbs for Billy, yet. I need more parts. I think we should visit a salvager. I heard there's a massive junkyard on Nal Hutta, if you'd take me there, but I bet there's amazing finds on Corellia, or even on Kuat, and we might pick up some ship parts too—
With his eyes closed, Obi-Wan floated along in Anakin's golden wake, ever hopeful that Anakin's monologue would answer his question — no doubt he would do so in his own good time. In the meantime, he had to listen to another soliloquy on Anakin's favourite subject.
—I just know I could do something about our speed. I think maybe it could be the weight we're carrying slowing us down. I know we've got the ablative shielding and the concussion lattice but I don't think it's just that. We have to see what's in the crates, some of them are drawing power from the Belle too, and that can't be normal. We could do some trading with them, maybe at a shipyard. And then, we could maybe use Dooku's name and get some pontoons. That's a good plan, don't you think, Master?
"Mhmmm," Obi-Wan, half-asleep already, hummed noncommittally, slightly discomfited by being bombarded with new information and ideas. "Dearheart, I am hardly in a position to consider these suggestions in any meaningful way."
Then just say yes!
The bondgarden flooded pinkgreen with a mix of emotion Obi-Wan couldn't pinpoint. He opened his eyes to find his padawan smirking at him, the boy's hair flopping in front of his face and almost hiding his half-lidded eyes.
"I'm sure we can find some time to go to a scrapyard, Ani," he said, too weary to enter into negotiations. "No promises when."
"I don't need one," Anakin lovingly kiss-sucked the nipple and let the weight of the breast drag it out of his mouth. His body slid sideways as he approached the other, fingers already teasing the abandoned teat while his mouth descended onto his untouched nipple. You always keep your word.
The bondgarden flooded anew with honey-gold and sunshine, and Obi-Wan slid back into soporific bliss as Anakin suckled with unhurried gentleness.
*
The following day, Obi-Wan went looking for Anakin and found him in the cockpit again after a series of short hyperspace jumps. Koth was sat behind, observing from a distance, as Anakin set a course for the next star system on the map he had created. Obi-Wan watched silently as the boy inputted the co-ordinates and variables precisely, checked via the equipment, altered nothing, and then indicated he was waiting for a verbal go ahead with a head tilt.
"Do it," Koth said.
Obi-Wan betrayed his surprise with a quick look at Koth, one eyebrow shooting up, but got no response from the master barring a wry smile.
When the Belle Eve shot out of hyperspace at their next destination with pinpoint accuracy, Obi-Wan had to acknowledge that Anakin had done a good job.
"You seem to be mastering it," Obi-Wan remarked lightly, watching Anakin put away the astrocartography tools in their case and wrap the leather straps securely.
Anakin hummed agreement. "It's pretty self-explanatory," he answered, picking up his datapad to add notes to his galaxy map, instantly absorbed in his task.
Obi-Wan, who had spent a good three of his teen years wrestling with how to use the same tools with any degree of competence and still felt mildly perturbed without a reliable navicom to plot safe journeys, shook his head and whistled softly. Perhaps it was merely that Anakin was a prodigy, he reasoned, leaving the boy to it and heading back to his own datapads. Perhaps it was not a failing of his own mathematical prowess.
Obi-Wan sometimes felt he would not have been surprised to pry the boy's head open to find a whirring processing unit occupying the space where his brain ought to be - but some beings simply understood things with a far greater ease than himself, and it was probably uncharitable to imply one's padawan was part-droid. Nevertheless, it was unsettling to find the boy able to calculate their position and plot successful manoeuvres with the accuracy and speed he could after only four weeks of formal instruction, and so he mentioned to Master Koth later that day.
"He's going to be a formidable pilot, that one," Eeth said, over a cup of overly-sweetened caf. "If we were in the Temple, I'd already be showing him how to create wayfarers."
Obi-Wan pursed his lips briefly. "You think he could channel so directly?"
Koth gave him a sharp look. "He's already doing it, Obi-Wan. He Sees the route in his mind's eye. It's instinctual for him."
"Even if he doesn't know the end goal?"
"He feels a pull. How did he put it? As if the path shimmers for him, like heat on sand. We made our way to maybe five systems that way — he marked at least one on his pad when I wouldn't let him detour. He'll be bringing you back this way, unless I'm much mistaken."
"He's following heat-dazzled mirages?" Obi-Wan lamented. "Oh, I can't wait for that trip!"
Koth grinned. "I told you I was getting off at Bespin, right?"
"I'll believe that when it happens," Obi-Wan said drily, daintily sipping his caf.
"Such a gracious host," Koth remarked, sotto voce.
Obi-Wan did not deign to answer.
*
It turned out that Anakin wasn't the one to tell Obi-Wan about OhFour.
Obi-Wan was minding his own business with a breakfast bowl of barley oats and solah when he was drawn out of his ruminations by the whining mechanical voice of Threepio who tripped into the galley in a whirl of calamitous indignance.
"Well, I must say, Master Kenobi. OhFour is a rude little upstart with no appreciation of long-standing relationships and the status they confer."
Obi-Wan blinked, swallowed, and queried slowly. "Is that so?"
"It is so, Master Kenobi," Threepio fluttered his hands uselessly. "Master Ani just doesn't see it!"
"That seems rather unlike Anakin," Obi-Wan commented peaceably. Anakin was perhaps overly-focused on his droids. "What's going on? Who is OhFour?"
The protocol droid cocked its head at him and said in a voice of withering disdain, "OhFour is what Master Ani calls AZ-182697810882129766104."
Obi-Wan, who had glazed over during the long number recital, nodded in understanding. "I see. And?"
"And he is a rude little upstart with no manners!" Threepio repeated his grievance.
"You might perhaps give me a little context," Obi-Wan suggested.
"I have gone out of my way to explain to that little first aid box that being given a name is a time-honoured tradition amongst droids. Master Kenobi, I spent over a week documenting the naming conventions of the civilised worlds and their importance when bestowed upon a faithful droid. I have since spent another week impressing upon him the significance of being given a name by none other than Master Ani himself ..."
Obi-Wan glanced at the droid in faint surprise at the worshipful tone, but Threepio didn't pause.
"...so he ought to understand the hierarchical nature of his role in Master Ani's life, but the little heart monitor thinks he can just push me aside and interfere with Master Ani just because he has medical knowledge!"
"Ahh," Obi-Wan nodded. "So OhFour is concerned for Anakin's welfare?"
Threepio drew himself up even more tightly. "I am concerned for Master Ani's welfare!" he retorted snippily. "And as Master Ani created me for this express purpose, he is overstepping."
Obi-Wan did not point out that Threepio's purpose had been left behind on Tatooine, and that she had gleefully given him away. Possibly it might have inflamed the situation. "I am sure Anakin is in the best possible hands with both of you watching out for him," he said drily, cleaning up after himself and leaving the galley before Threepio could whine at him further.
Of course, it would have been negligent not to bear witness in person to Threepio's grievance, and so Obi-Wan visited his padawan's workshop a little later, stealthily loitering in the corridor outside the hold.
"It seems quite dangerous, Master Ani! You are still a youngling."
From his vantage point, he could see Threepio standing there wearing the baby sling Anakin had made around his torso. Bho bachgen was strapped into the sling facing Anakin, grabbing at the protective shield Threepio was holding in front of his face. Anakin, sat in the child's field of vision with a fusion cutter in his hands, ignored Threepio's protestations and grinned brightly at the two of them.
"We won't worry about all that nonsense, will we, Bho bach?" Anakin cooed in a sing-song tone, giving the child a winning smile as he started the machine up. "Threepio knows nothing about repairing coupling brackets anyway, so he has no idea how much of a worrywort he sounds. Lightsabers are more dangerous by far."
"Well really, Master Ani," Threepio complained as the sparks flew. "I do think Master Obi-Wan should be a little more strict about letting you use dangerous equipment without supervision. You are little more than a child yourself."
Anakin laughed loudly. "If I'd never used dangerous equipment without supervision, you'd never have been made."
"I'm sure I was an easy project," the droid said primly, approximating a dismissive sniff.
"Oh sure, you came in a box with sequenced pictures for clicking parts together one at a time," scoffed Anakin, rolling his eyes before going back to his soldering. "Now stop whining and don't let Bho bach take the shield off his eyes."
"Oh, by the Maker, stop!" the droid sputtered, eyeing the child's attempts to free himself from the safety shield. His arms fluttered as he righted the tinted face shield back over Bho bachgen's face and removed the babe's fingers from the edges. "One defiant human is enough for one day. And you are a good little human aren't you, yes, yes you are!"
Obi-Wan, amused, watched Anakin smirk to himself as Threepio's voice entered a pitch only appreciated by tookas and babies.
He wandered into the hold, wondering where OhFour was, only to espy the medical droid hovering on Anakin's other side, ready with other tools, as if participating in an operation. It certainly looked like the droids had been falling over themselves to be useful to his padawan.
"Anakin," he nodded.
"Master," Anakin acknowledged. "Do you need me? I'll be done in a minute."
"Not particularly," Obi-Wan responded, watching the boy using the cutter with ease. "Take your time."
Anakin was a very practical individual, Obi-Wan mused, watching the boy wield tools and parts without any misgivings, confident in his ability to subject the materials to his whims. What he was making was not clear, but even so, his padawan was working with precision. It was rather restful, actually, watching him bend and shape metal into new configurations. The sparks of the cutter flew brightly in all directions, and Obi-Wan found himself on the edge of a meditative state after a few minutes, aware of everything at a remove. It occurred to him after a while that Anakin was creating a kind of shelving from one of the crates he'd evidently opened. The contents of the crate, piled up against the hull, seemed to be tools and parts — all ordinary enough to be unremarkable. But the former crate was transformed, cut shallow and soldered into long storage benches, the rough edges rolled for safety and aesthetic reasons. Obi-Wan, recalling a similar design in the Toydarian's junk store, had a sudden insight into why Watto might have enjoyed his slaves' skilfulness and why he was reluctant to let them go. No doubt his business had been less profitable with Anakin gone.
He was brought out of his meditations by Anakin powering down the cutter and casting him such a look of absolute mischief that Obi-Wan prepared himself mentally.
"Master, can I have a jetpack?" he asked blithely. "I think it would be cool to take Bho bach up —"
Obi-Wan forced his face to remain neutral. The effort was not inconsiderable; his eyebrows quirked with the strain.
"Master Ani, no!" Threepio implored, turning to gauge Obi-Wan's response.
"It is shockingly reckless!" OhFour agreed.
"I think it would be fun," Anakin went on stubbornly. "Bho bach is a Mandalorian after all."
Obi-Wan hummed and nodded as if thinking about it, a hand stroking his jaw.
Threepio gesticulated wildly. "You are considering this foolishness?" he cried. "It is entirely nonsensical. OhFour, you and I must put our feet down firmly on this matter, we are clearly the only ones here with any proper feeling."
"I agree with you in principle," OhFour answered, setting down the tools it was holding for Anakin, and retreating from his position as chief assistant. "Although I do feel the need to point out my lack of pedestrian appendages. I do hope this will not unduly devastate our ability to stand firm."
Threepio stood up, righteously protective. "Indeed not," he said stoically. "Let us take this madness to Master Koth. He, at least, has a sensible head on his shoulders."
Anakin grinned as the two departed his workshop, muttering together.
"You are a menace, dearheart," Obi-Wan commented fondly.
"I am a genius," Anakin said, picking up his cutter again.
Inwardly sighing, Obi-Wan privately thought that since Koth would inevitably quiz him on the matter rather than his padawan, Anakin might actually be an evil genius.
*
The following day heralded a flurry of messages, so they had evidently been rather close to one of the relays at some stage and caught up with their correspondence. Dancing out and about in wild space played havoc with communication.
The note from Dooku didn't mention Fett at all, but rather co-ordinates and a date. The date was a less than a month away, but the co-ordinates were somewhere in the Immerian Outback sector, and not anywhere he'd been before. Why Dooku wanted to meet up in the middle of nowhere was anyone's guess, but he'd accommodate the old man barring any pressing engagements elsewhere.
Two messages for Koth arrived, both encoded, but Koth didn't hesitate to open them in his presence. One was just an audio recording, a woman's voice, verbally confirming her presence on Bespin as soon as possible. The other was a short holomessage, a grainy holo of a bearded man who looked rough, someone clasped tightly to him on his left side, hidden under a voluminous cloak. Obi-Wan did not recognise him.
" — kzzzt — trouble on Rat — kzzzt — injured, but got him out — kzzzt — needs medic — kzzzt kzzzt — dawan needs a mind hea — kzzzt — requested Master — kzzzt — her support — kzzzt — ay after tomorr — kzzzt —"
Koth checked the time stamp on the message and gave a growl. Obi-Wan went to the navicom automatically, the two of them working in tandem.
"Data entered," he said shortly.
"Then let's get this bucket moving," Koth answered.
"Don't let Anakin hear you say that," Obi-Wan warned.
"Consider it unsaid," the Zabrak said easily, opening the ship's comm. "Entering hyperspace in six, five, four, three, two, one."
The Belle, far from being bucket-like, shot into hyperspace like a hawk. Anakin appeared at the cockpit doorway in moments.
"Did something happen?"
"Master Koth's uh — ally — appears to have some friends in need of medical attention. With our fuel, it may take us a few hours to get there, but we should arrive before them."
"Maybe nine hours," Koth said. "We should get some sleep."
"I'll make latemeal," Obi-Wan said, getting up again and following Anakin out, leaving Koth alone. "Anakin, is it tidy in the hold?"
Anakin shrugged and waved a hand noncommittally. He was wearing Bho bachgen in the sling strung to his front, the boy almost asleep next to Anakin's heart.
"Give him to me before you go finish up what you were doing, Ani. I'll feed him while you're busy."
It was a process. unwinding the sling and releasing Bho bachgen, but by the time Anakin had done so, Obi-Wan had thrown rice and vegetables into pots to cook, adding chunks of the nerf steaks that were left over from the previous night and a healthy amount of spice. A low heat would have it all ready within the hour.
Bho bachgen slumped tiredly into his arms as Anakin handed him over, and Obi-Wan smiled down at his padawan. "Thank you, dearheart. You've been a real help to me today."
Anakin smiled shyly and disappeared into the bowels of the ship, and Obi-Wan went back to his quarters.
The Mandalorian's child, as tired as he was, formed an expectant pout as Obi-Wan settled into position, latching on quickly.
"You are a quick study, Bho bachgen," Obi-Wan murmured, settling into meditation as the rhythmic suckling drew him down into calm. It was different from feeding Anakin, and even Cal-Ket, with no Force bond between them. Bho bachgen was simply a child in need, and he had found that his miraka was too rich for the babe to empty him out.
Anakin's fears that the baby's appetite would leave him wanting were unfounded. While he was perhaps making a little more, more often than not, it was Anakin benefitting from the glut. Obi-Wan had occasionally begun to express again, vacuum-sealed packs once again building up in the ship's long-term storage.
As if to provide evidence of his meandering thoughts, a tiny snore erupted from Bho bachgen, making him smile.
"Come on, bho khetan, is that it, sweetheart?" he lifted the boy upright and settled him against his body, not that this disturbed the child at all. More snuffling snoring rumbled softly as Obi-Wan rubbed his back gently.
The Mandalorian's child was easier to settle than Cal-Ket, for certain, and in fact he lived up to his new moniker in all aspects. He had settled into Obi-Wan's rigorous feeding schedule with gratifying ease, and spent his time not sleeping by charming them all into submission with his sweetness. It was too easy to be kindly disposed toward the little one, and he wasn't the only one thus charmed.
In the short time they'd had him, Eeth Koth was surprisingly willing to set time aside to entertain the baby. He had often been caught singing to the bounty hunter's child, half-remembered Iridonian nursery rhymes and even short jingles from well-known holo adverts, and Obi-Wan had been given a sudden prescient insight into why Koth had wanted to be a clan master, and perhaps why he wasn't preaching the Code at him at every turn; the thought sliced deep into his psyche that perhaps, just maybe, his kind master would very much have liked a family of his own.
To test this theory, he'd let the Zabrak have his fill, secretly marvelling at his willingness to be inconvenienced for a great deal of time.
Obi-Wan smiled wryly, in truth he would be much worse off when Koth departed. He definitely needed another set of hands around.
He set Bho bachgen into his cradle just as Anakin came in. Still shirtless, he found himself drawn back to the bed so his padawan could descend on his breasts with single-minded focus.
Hello, dearheart, Obi-Wan sent silently as gold streaked across the bondgarden in long, lazy contrails.
Master, Anakin responded.
Just a little, Obi-Wan said soporifically. Latemeal is almost ready.
*
Obi-Wan woke up when the ship dropped out of hyperspace some eight hours later. Cursing himself for falling asleep instead of fulfilling his normal nightly routine, he pulled himself out of bed with remonstrative annoyance, although he noted with relief that Bho bachgen was still asleep.
Obi-Wan dressed himself quickly and made his way to the cockpit where their destination filled the viewport. He might have known he'd find Anakin here in the co-pilot's chair, while Koth negotiated their way into the gas giant's flight pathways.
Bespin was yet another busy port in the Anoat sector. Though it was essentially home only to colonies of mining opportunists for the plentiful tibanna gas in its upper atmosphere, its few attractions were generally aimed at the wealthy business types who traded mining and shipping rights with careless abandon at Cloud City's gaming tables whilst enjoying the bewitching thrills of refined spice sampling and private exotic dances.
Heedless of the siren song of these nefarious delights, Master Koth brought them quietly into Chinook Station; a less-refined place on the far side of the gas giant from Cloud City's glamour, glitz and gambling. It generally served as a refuelling port for traders and large vessels, and with a focus on basic services, had nothing to offer the elites who flocked to Bespin.
Obi-Wan was intrigued by the Master's choice.
"It's more private, here. People mind their own business. And there's a chance one of my contacts will have left a message with security," Koth said, when pressed about why he wanted to stop here. Obi-Wan, sensing his worry, didn't pressure him further.
Within a few minutes they landed quietly on an industrial platform in the pre-dawn light, and Koth himself disappeared into the station's maw swiftly, before the privacy shield had even drawn itself up around the platform. Obi-Wan watched him go pensively.
After missing latemeal the previous night, Obi-Wan was hungry, so busied himself in the galley, making a bowl of the mishmashed leftovers for himself which he fully expected Anakin to lay a claim to. Anakin surprised him by not appearing until later, after he had fed Bho bachgen, who had promptly fallen asleep again in his arms. He was suffering silently though a cup of Chandi tea, which tasted far less pleasant than its fragrance, when Anakin sidled in close to him and appropriated a nipple cheekily.
"You were up early this morning," Obi-Wan observed, aiming for serene calm regardless of the deep suction on his breast.
I wanted to see the planet, his padawan responded. And it was really early, Master. I didn't want to wake you.
Bespin was Anakin's first experience of a gaseous planet and Obi-Wan could understand his interest. Clearly it must have been a priority if Anakin had left the bed without his morning milk. Obi-Wan let the boy drink his fill before tucking himself away.
"I am going to meditate and then go and organise a refuel," he said, standing up to tidy the galley. "I'll take Bho bachgen with me to go and find a mechanic. If you change your clothes for something warmer, you can follow along with Artoo. Maybe there'll be something of interest in the service depot you can barter for."
Anakin's initial grimace disappeared at this possibility, and he went to do as he was bid. Obi-Wan gave the galley a cursory glance and went to put his outer robe on.
The chrono confirmed Anakin's assertion that it was early in the day. Knowing Anakin would probably have distracted himself already with something mechanical and droid-shaped, Obi-Wan took the opportunity to meditate a little, centring himself for the day with calm acceptance of his inability to control everything, and renewed focus on his awareness of his agency, his reason, his adaptability. It was soothing to acknowledge the things he could and could not change, it was a familiar refrain in fact, for it had been a favourite mantra of Qui-Gon's morning meditations to request the Force give him wisdom to know the difference between the two, while ignoring the chance cubes weighing down his pockets. His old master had been a mass of contradictions, but so very human in his idiosyncrasies. It was not untrue to say that he still missed him, though indeed Anakin had begun to fill all the space he had not filled with kith and kin.
"Come on, Bho bachgen, let us stretch our legs a little," he murmured after a while, gathering the baby boy into his arms. "I think there may be something of interest to Anakin in the station garage."
As Obi-Wan engaged him in conversation, the young Fett looked at him with lively interest, adding a burble of sound for his part.
"I quite agree, you might like it too, but one feels you are a little too young for that sort of thing just yet," Obi-Wan responded to the gurgling. "I feel sure you will be an excellent pilot in your own right at some stage, but I am not purchasing you a hydrospanner just yet."
The baby hummed and mouthed at Obi-Wan's clothing hopefully.
"You are quite like Anakin in many ways," Obi-Wan remarked as they descended the ramp onto the platform. "And that's not a complimentary comparison. I suggest you make do, young one, until we get back on board," and so saying, he guided the child's thumb into his mouth, whereupon he began sucking in earnest. "My word, it's quite fresh out here, let's keep you a little more sheltered." He drew his wool robe around them a little more tightly.
It was far cooler on the floating platform. The gas giant was by no means cold, but to be walking around the platform within the cloud layer was a rather damper environment that he was ready for. Infinitesimal droplets clung to his eyelashes and the coarser fibres of his cloak, but, as Obi-Wan opened the spiral-opening doors of the station he was pleased to note there was a lot of warmth within.
Eeth had accurately described Chinook Station as private. It seemed almost empty, and unwelcoming — the sort of place one might expect to see criminal gang members lurking in the shadows. A couple of mechanical engineers in bright orange could be seen engaged in ship maintenance down the far end of the long warehouse, but they weren't bothered by Obi-Wan's presence. Obi-Wan glanced around to find the automated refuelling system.
It was a slim panel on a pedestal and easy enough to use. Obi-Wan was not surprised to see a set of pit droids spring into life and head off in the direction of the Belle Eve after a few minutes programming.
"Let us take a look around," he murmured, loosening his hold on his robe and casting his eyes over the somewhat scarce organisation that kept the vast warehouse from complete shambles.
No human appeared to be supervising the storage area, though a bronzium-plated droid was engaged in replacing items on shelves on the opposite wall. The tall shelving appeared to be built entirely of packing crates that had been stacked high to form a maze of walkways, then relieved of their sides for visibility. Wide-wheeled ladders and lifts dotted the walkways at intervals, and a stack of discarded crates made for an unkempt sculpture at the side of the massive industrial shutters halfway down the warehouse.
The shelves were full of different tools, spare parts — junk, to Obi-Wan's mind — with some hung on the walls, or left in smaller crates and boxes, and some just abandoned in a pile on the floor. That particular mess was next to a 'fresher unit, which itself was next to a small recreational area which had seen better days. Surprise visitors were evidently unexpected and mostly uncatered for, and the recreational area only offered vending machines which used local currency — although, ah, there was a conversion appliance which would exchange Republic dataris, no doubt at an exorbitant rate.
Obi-Wan had a handful of credits in a pouch on his belt, perhaps eighty in total. He fed twenty credits into the machine, and was surprised to be dealt a great deal of coinage, which promptly emptied itself onto the floor since someone had carefully removed the cash tray.
"How convenient," Obi-Wan remarked mildly. "And now we must grub around in the dirt. I suppose we ought to be glad that no one is around to witness our indignity, Bho bachgen, for we are being treated abominably. This is why one prefers to deal with sentients, although I feel you should be warned that sentience is no guarantor of civility."
Bho bachgen, shielded from the incivility of sentients and vending machines alike, blinked peaceably up at Obi-Wan and sucked his thumb.
"You're probably right," Obi-Wan nodded, crouching with the babe in one arm and sweeping the coins into little piles to pick up. "I should get used to this sort of thing. I've heard having many mouths to feed is a budgeting nightmare."
After a few more minutes collection, he had a tidy sum of what had turned out to be Hutt coinage: wupiupi, in fact, and the ones which had rolled under other machines he was quite disinclined to fight for. "It's wupiupi," he told the baby indignantly, "We have been taken for fools. I would go to sleep if I were you, it's going to take me a shocking amount of time to feed these into the vending machines..."
He spent a few moments looking at the things available for purchase; generic traveller fare took up a main portion, including kaf bars and kakku protein shots (which cost him ten wupiupi each, but he bought them anyway, because Anakin).
I wonder if any of this is useful, Obi-Wan thought briefly, as he idled through the spare parts collection on offer. I'm sure he won't appreciate the useless kark I'd bring back with me — he turned at the sound of the door sliding open.
Anakin stood in the doorway, his blond hair haloed in the bright light of Bespin's eponymous sun. "Master?"
"Ah, you caught up with us, padawan. Did you bring a bag?"
Impertinent beeps punctuated the air forestalling his question, and Anakin entered the station, followed by R2-D2 who barged ahead, sailing up and down the walkways like it was a one-droid inspection team.
"Here," Anakin said, throwing a hardwearing bag onto one of the counters and looking around curiously.
"Excellent, thank you."
Obi-Wan began filling it with his purchases so far, one eye on Anakin as he wandered this way and that, his small clever hands touching everything. He smiled, imagining his padawan's pleasure at rifling through the detritus, and only gave a little sigh as the boy fetched a crate and started filling it.
When the fuelling panel beeped long and loud, Obi-Wan went to investigate what was going on, and found himself distracted for a while. By the time he was through with the fuelling, and had settled up with the ACC-9 droid taking inventory after their visit, Anakin was nowhere to be seen.
Anakin? he sent sharply, senses flaring as he hefted Bho bachgen's weight to his other arm.
Back on the ship, Master! Anakin's amused voice came at him sideways. Did you really not see me?
"Where is that boy?" Obi-Wan muttered to himself, glancing around. Did you go out the side door?
Anakin's laughter rang out loud. It might have been easier to take the crate out that way. But no, I walked right past you!
Slightly concerned that he'd apparently missed this event, and not unreasonably perturbed at what his acquisitive padawan might have appropriated, Obi-Wan set off at a brisk clip back to the ship. He gave a relieved sigh as he found Anakin on the loading ramp, three little droid helmets at his feet.
"What did you get, in the end?" he asked, trailing up the ramp. "And are these the pit droids? You cannot keep them, dear one."
"Just some bits and bobs," Anakin shrugged. "Droid parts, mostly. And some tools. For playing with. Are you sure I can't keep these?" He hit the nose on each of the pit droids and they leapt to their feet, scarpering off in the direction of the building, taking the repulsorlift crate Anakin had used back with them.
"Where have you hidden it all?" Obi-Wan said, wandering into the ship and glancing around. He couldn't see anything new cluttering up the space. "Anakin?"
"These ships were pretty much only used for smuggling, Master," Anakin grinned wolfishly, as Obi-Wan began noticing the many, many panels that covered the ship's interior design. "The modular fit was meant to be very useful for maintenance, but it has other purposes."
Obi-Wan belatedly wondered if he should have investigated the Belle Eve's numerous hatches prior to their takeover, but peering into the closest one revealed a large and fairly innocuous tool kit. Another revealed a number of labelled ship parts, and yet another a few long metal canisters. Feeling rather like he was going to be an accessory to some future crime, he deliberately chose not to think about Anakin’s expanding stores. He slid the panel closed again and went off to distract himself with another of Jocasta's offerings.
It was a lot less stressful than seeing what Dooku, and now Anakin, were storing on the ship.
*
"Hello?"
A lady's voice, smooth as caramel, floated through the ship's corridors. The bondgarden thrummed with tension all of a sudden. Obi-Wan dropped his datapad and swung his legs off the bed hurriedly as Anakin's bells assumed a deep martial air. He darted out of the berth, lightsaber in hand, unsure what he would encounter.
Anakin evidently got there before him.
"You must be Anakin," the lady was saying. "Master Koth told me of you."
"He didn't tell me about you," Anakin answered, rudely.
"No one reveals all their secrets, Padawan." she answered lightly.
Obi-Wan hurriedly entered from the starboard corridor to find Anakin blocking the gangway, prickling like a nexu's quills with his hand on his lightsaber hilt.
The lady his padawan was barring from entrance was a vision of loveliness. Windswept blonde hair framed an elfin face made more striking by her pointed ears and the tattoos which sketched delicate contours on the left side of her face. She wore rich damask robes in shades of bronze and cream, with heavy gold embroidery on the lapels like stylised writing from another age. She could not have been more than twenty summers, and yet in the Force, her presence was powerful. It was no wonder Anakin was on edge.
Obi-Wan couldn't sense anything otherwise amiss, apart from Anakin's antipathy. The lady radiated peace and tranquility, layered thickly. Putting his lightsaber away, he stepped forward and laid his hand on his padawan's shoulder, drawing the boy backward to himself. Calm yourself, dear one.
"Obi-Wan Kenobi," the lady said, acknowledging him with a gentle incline of her head. "I knew your master as a young man."
How? was his first thought, and then reason made the leap that she was not as young as she looked. Suddenly he was glad that he had read so many of the Outer Rim reports that his peers scoffed at when he was a padawan, for recognition hit him.
"Master ... Fay?" Obi-Wan said in wonderment.
"The same," she nodded.
"Come in, come in," Obi-Wan gave her a welcoming smile, taking hold of Anakin's wrist firmly and heading for the galley, tugging the boy along with him. "I'll make tea, if you are amenable? Help me, Anakin."
Anakin lurked behind him as Master Fay sat down, taking cups to the table when bid, but clearly uncomfortable.
Obi-Wan made a pot of Tseverrin, a sharp blend from the Asogian colonies which he quite enjoyed, especially with a slice of kavasa when they were in season. He didn't have any though, so he put a pot of sweetbriar nectar onto the tray and carried it across to the table with the teapot.
Anakin, ever the contrarian, slid from behind him to sit down first on the curved seating, not really moving too close to their visitor, inserting himself as a barrier. Obi-Wan eyed him sharply, but whatever was bothering him he was keeping it concealed. Obi-Wan's careful probing through the bond garnered no response except a sense of wariness and Anakin's hand sliding into his under the table.
"Master Koth went to meet another contact," he said, for politeness' sake as the tea steeped and the silence loomed. "He wasn't very forthcoming about who he was meeting."
Master Fay nodded. "I'm sure he didn't want to worry you. The truth is that even Nico was not entirely sure what he was walking into. But he was successful in some measure at least."
"On Rattatak, yes?" Obi-Wan queried. "We saw someone — Nico, I presume — half-carrying someone out in his message, but it was garbled."
"There is some ongoing strife in that sector," Fay said gravely. "Nico takes slavery as a personal affront, so he was wise to it when a hit was put out on a Jedi master. I think his intent was pure extraction, but he was there too long. Something must have gone wrong."
Obi-Wan began pouring the tea into cups. "I suppose we shall find out soon enough. Anakin, would you like tea?"
Anakin, whose hand had remained in Obi-Wan's lap when Obi-Wan extracted his own, nodded stiffly. Obi-Wan pushed the nectar pot his way.
As the boy stirred in the sweetness, Obi-Wan attempted to smooth over his padawan's unwelcoming attitude. "Master Fay is one of the legends of the Jedi Order, Ani," he said conversationally as he picked up his own cup and blew gently across the surface of the steaming liquid. "She has brokered peace on many worlds in her long service to the galaxy — not that I would presume to ask a lady her age, of course," he smiled at her, allowing his eyes to twinkle at the thought of breaking etiquette with such a display of bad manners.
Master Fay merely stirred nectar into her own tea with a small smile.
Anakin's fingers dug into his thigh with an iron grip. Obi-Wan held his cup grimly and sent his padawan a hard stare. Cease mauling me, Anakin! he expostulated. What's got into you?
Anakin stared back at him, expression like durasteel.
From their shared berth, a cry wailed out. You did not ... Obi-Wan frowned. He put his cup down and stood, "You will pardon us, Master," he excused himself. "Anakin, come with me please."
Swiftly walking back to the their cabin with Anakin at his heels, Obi-Wan wasn't sure what he was dealing with. He shut the door behind his padawan.
Anakin sat down on the bed immediately, a mulish expression on his face. Obi-Wan went to the crib first, his back to his padawan as he soothed Bho bachgen — who was delighted to be lifted and hugged — and took his time doing so, struggling to find the right words to address the issue.
Eventually he turned and looked at Anakin. "I cannot believe you woke Bho bachgen on purpose, Anakin."
The boy had the grace to look a little sheepish, but he stayed mum.
"I need to know what's going on," Obi-Wan began irritably. "You took an instant dislike to Master Fay, something I venture to guess is entirely unique, even in her long history."
Anakin frowned, his mouth forming a more stubborn pout.
Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows. "Yes? Anakin, if you have something to say, say it. Don't expect me to infer it from your scowling face when you have all but blocked the bond. Tell me what's going on and why you're being so ..." he cast around wildly for the right word. Impertinent? Rude? Territorial?
Anakin's eyes flashed with something like vindication, and Obi-Wan clamped his jaw to prevent it from dropping. That was the right word?
"What in Tython have you got against Master Fay? We've known we're meeting up with other Jedi since Kamino," he said. "You weren't like this on Coruscant ..."
But having said that, memories surfaced; Anakin had been oddly standoffish and abrupt at times, with Doma and Dex, particularly. Protective, perhaps, if he softened the adjective a little.
"What do you have to be territorial about? Anakin, we are Jedi — we are bound to help people we come across at times."
Anakin cast his eyes skyward, as if Obi-Wan was being particularly obtuse, and folded his arms.
Obi-Wan lost his patience. "If you are not going to explain yourself, padawan mine, you will stay in this berth until you get bored with your own company and decide to be civil. I am not putting up with it. You will not be rude to our guests, and you will respect the members of the Jedi Order you meet." He turned on his heel and marched for the door.
His hand barely touched the panel before Anakin was in front of him, face pinched and body shuddering with some undisclosed emotion.
He responded sharply. "What, Anakin?"
Anakin's hand curled around his wrist, his voice wavering. "Don't leave me, Obi— Master. Don't leave me. Don't go back to her!"
It was Obi-Wan's turn to frown. "What are you talking about, Anakin? Master Fay is not remotely dangerous-"
She makes you smile, Anakin blurted silently. You're impressed by her. She's too beautiful. And she is too ... big in the Force.
Obi-Wan paused. Anakin reflexively massaged the bones in his master's wrist, chewing his lip and not meeting his eyes. Obi-Wan removed his arm from the painful grip, took a step back followed by a deep breath.
"What is that supposed to mean, Ani?" he asked. "Is there something wrong with smiling at people? What am I missing here? What on earth are you talking about?"
Anakin looked shattered; bewildered and out of his depth. He opened his mouth to say something, and nothing came out. His eyes became suspiciously shiny all at once, and his expression faltered into embarrassment.
Obi-Wan sighed, took a few steps back and sat on the bed, rearranging Bho bachgen who had fallen back to sleep on his shoulder.
Anakin crowded into his other side and curled into the arm that came up to cradle him automatically. Obi-Wan sighed again, looking sideways at the messy hair that was all he could see of his padawan.
"Anakin," he said slowly. "I don't know what's going on in your head, but Master Fay is not a threat to either of us. She's nearly as old as Master Yoda and she travels the galaxy righting wrongs and healing rifts. Half the Order think she's a myth, and the rest don't know of her at all because she doesn't choose to be known. I can't tell you the last time she went back to Coruscant. Yes, she's strong in the Force, but so are you, dearheart. Should I worry that you are a threat, because you are strong in the Force?"
Anakin gulped wetly, Of course not.
Then why this insecurity, dear one? Obi-Wan queried. "You didn't seem to care if I talked to Queen Amidala and her handmaidens, and they are all equally as beautiful as Master Fay in their own ways."
I don't know, Anakin responded. I'm ... sorry, Master.
Not sure if he should continue his interrogation or allow the matter to drop, Obi-Wan decided to accept the apology as the peace offering it was. He wondered what Master Fay was like, in the Force, to someone with Anakin's sensitivity, and concluded that she must in fact seem somewhat daunting, or threatening, for the boy to react the way he had.
The fingers coming up inside his tunic to grasp his nipple were a surprise, but really shouldn't have been, he supposed. Anakin was feeling off-kilter and feeding was a comfort. He let the boy suckle for a while, his soft mouth pursing rhythmically until the bondgarden, once again thrown wide open, bloomed honeygold.
When they finally emerged from their berth, Bho bachgen was once again fast asleep and Obi-Wan had put him down.
Master Fay was meditating on the floor in the main hold. She gave no indication that she was remotely disturbed by their presence, although Obi-Wan suspected she might be processing his padawan's rather strange reaction in her own way.
Since Anakin was reluctant to leave his side, Obi-Wan sat down at the table with him and drew out one of the small drawers, removing some small pieces of black and white svardstone in familiar shapes. Anakin, seeing the little figurines, collected the board and assembled the white pieces in front of himself.
Obi-Wan settled into quiet stillness as he followed Anakin's opening moves with his own. Something had troubled the boy, and though he couldn't — or wouldn't — express it, it was a genuine fear. Something to do with him, too, apparently. Perhaps it wasn't quite settled in his head that he wouldn't be getting rid of Obi-Wan until his knighthood? It was entirely possible that Anakin had some remnants of uncertainty regarding the permanence of the master-padawan bond. Obi-Wan watched his padawan deliberate over sacrificing a pawn and skeptically mused over his possible thought processes. Master Fay had actually made a kind concession to the young padawan; he wondered if Anakin appreciated that she had made herself not just a reduced threat, but actively vulnerable in communion with the Force. It was a move borne of wisdom, to do what the boy could not and give him space and time to control his emotions. He moved his knight into a tempting position, unshielded and seemingly recklessly.
Anakin glanced up at him quickly. He smiled at the boy's silent question. Anakin narrowed his eyes and scrutinised the board anew. Obi-Wan let out a long breath slowly. Anakin was a jumble of paradoxicality. It made it a challenge to be his master, but he hoped they could always find their way back to equilibrium through the bondgarden.
Anakin fell for his trap and took his knight. Obi-Wan, having encouraged the removal of the obstacle to his goal, moved a minister diagonally and began laying siege to his fortress.
It took another few moves for Anakin to see what he was doing and try to stop him, but nothing he was doing was effecting a solid defence, rather the opposite in fact as he kept throwing things in Obi-Wan's path for him to take.
"Can I salvage this at all?" he groaned, elbows on the table, fingers winding through his hair as Obi-Wan stole his second knight.
Obi-Wan tapped his minister. "Where am I going with this piece?" he asked. "And why is my queen over here?"
Anakin looked between the two of them, frowned and suddenly removed a pawn.
"He was just an innocent bystander," Obi-Wan murmured, moving another pawn defensively.
"Liar," Anakin said, glaring at the board harshly. His fortress moved next, and Obi-Wan suddenly found himself having to think carefully about whether he was prepared to lose his minister. Deciding to tactically retreat, Obi-Wan moved it back across the board out of range.
Anakin was getting better at chess. They didn't play often enough for him to show rapid improvement, but Obi-Wan thought Dooku would be impressed with his progress upon their next match.
He caught Master Fay watching them bicker from her position on the floor, Anakin consumed with making wild claims about his future prowess as he tidied the pieces away afterward.
"Perhaps a little more humility, padawan mine," he suggested. "We're not talking sabacc here. Disparaging talk is not the way we play a civilised game."
Anakin grinned. "Are you saying sabacc is not civilised, Master? It does sound like my kind of game."
"I'm not sure you're old enough," Obi-Wan responded with a wry smile, getting up. "Ani, I am thinking of making flatbreads."
"Good," Anakin nodded automatically at the suggestion of food. "With kuura?"
"I was thinking kunyee haya."
"Q'uñi," Anakin corrected absently. "Good choice."
"Yes, exactly. Master Fay, would you like a bite to eat?"
"If you have enough to share, I would be delighted," Master Fay said, rising gracefully and dusting her robes.
"Anakin, can you check on Bho bachgen for me?" Obi-Wan requested, before he disappeared into the bowels of the ship, looking for ingredients in cold storage.
Obi-Wan tarried long enough for Anakin to come back before he did, loitering in the corridor to overhear the conversation.
"Padawan, I apologise if my presence makes you uncomfortable," Master Fay said calmly.
"Are you an angel?" Anakin demanded.
"Am I an angel? From Iego's moons?" Master Fay gave a small chuckle. "Nay, child, I am not of the Diathim. They have six wings, you know."
"You could be hiding them," Anakin countered. "And I'm not a child."
"I promise I am not hiding any wings!" Master Fay said patiently. "You are a child of the universe, no less than any of us. You were born of your mother, born of the Force; your age is irrelevant."
"Obi-Wan said you were nearly as old as Yoda," Anakin said.
Master Fay laughed. "Your master is well-read, it seems. Your point, padawan?"
"You don't look old."
"Not cosmetically, no," she smiled, moving to sit at the table again. "But perhaps I feel strange to you."
"Too big," Anakin nodded. "You tried to squash me."
"That was not my intention," she said, leaning forward earnestly. "It is ... habit, perhaps, to pacify wild emotion around me. I wasn't expecting to encounter it. You are also too big, young one. I wonder that your master can bear it."
Obi-Wan sighed silently. Anakin was occasionally overwhelming, it was true, but she made it sound like he could not.
"I joined with him," Anakin said defensively. "He offered to bond, so I did."
Obi-Wan frowned. His bond with Anakin was a wholly unique thing, but did that mean that no-one else had such bonds?
"I see," she mused. "Perhaps it was written in the stars, then. The Will of the Force can be a powerful thing, young Skywalker. Now who is this babe you are carrying?"
"He's a clone," Anakin said, lifting Bho bachgen higher so she could see. "We took him from Kamino because they weren't treating him right."
"Indeed?" she said, her brow furrowing. "The Kaminoans are cloning humans, now?"
Obi-Wan stepped into the hold. "Just beginning a major cloning operation, it seems," he said. "Thank you, Anakin."
"I am sure Nico will have something to say about that," Master Fay commented, sitting back with a thoughtful mien.
"It does seem a trifle unusual," Obi-Wan agreed.
He set about starting the spice mix, frying off the vegetable base and creating the hot spicy sauce. Ground nerf fillets, with extra fat for flavour, went straight in from the storage pack, and he set it all to simmer as he wiped the surfaces down to make the flatbreads.
It was not long after that an alarm in the station began wailing.
"Anakin, start the engines," he said, taking Bho bachgen and despositing him in Master Fay's lap unceremoniously.
Obi-Wan, not entirely unusued to making quick getaways, dashed out of the ship onto the platform and hit the manual overrides on the docking clamps just as the engines burst into life. While he was out there, the station door opened wide and four figures ran for the ship. At least, three figures did, one independently, the other two holding up a man's body between them.
"On the ship," Koth yelled, and Obi-Wan got out of the way, withdrawing his saber.
As they passed him to go up the ramp, their pursuers poured from the station door after them. Weequay pirates, if he had to guess.
He deflected a volley of blaster bolts, aiming them back at them, Form Three ever his friend in such circumstances.
"Another kriffing Jedi!" a rough voice shouted.
"Another one of their kids," another laughed. "Get 'im, boys!"
Obi-Wan retreated up the ramp, still deflecting blasts, even as it closed. Master Fay stood with her hand on the controls, Bho bachgen in one arm, her face stern and concerned.
"Go on, Obi-Wan," she said. "Don't worry about the youngling for a moment."
Obi-Wan lurched with the ship as the Belle Eve took off and turned immediately. Thankful for the shields defending the hull, Obi-Wan ran for the cockpit, and found Anakin preparing to dive at an alarming angle.
"Even out as soon as you can," he said, sitting down in the co-pilot's chair. "Don't go too deep, we can't withstand the pressure."
"I just want to lose them," Anakin said tightly, eyes on the radar screen, where two dots were circling the station.
"We have the speed," Obi-Wan reminded. "Heading point six-five-two as soon as."
Anakin scanned the co-ordinates, and cut the engines. The Belle dropped like a stone.
Obi-Wan made to grab for the console and found himself unable to move. "Bho bachgen?" he gasped.
"I've got them," Anakin said shortly, engaging the engines again and swinging a deep curve into a steep ascent on the vector Obi-Wan had pointed at. The moment they punched through the atmosphere, Anakin hit the hyperdrive and everything went blue.