SEN: 501_CENTCOM_01V

REC: TEMPLE_COMMAND_S004

[ 15:3:25 15:15 ]

ATTN: Jedi Temple Medbay

[ skywalker_anakin_report_15_3_ .txt ]

[ CC_7017_medreport_15_3_ .holo ]

[ kenobi_obi_wan_physical_15_3_ .azr ]

[ kenobi_obi_wan_OEI_scan_15_3_ .azr ]

Ahsoka wasn't nervous to be flying back to Coruscant alone with Master Kenobi.

Nope.

Sure, he was a legend. Sithkiller. Master of the Chosen One. And sure, Anakin was very obviously going to have a conniption fit if any tiny thing about this voyage went wrong. Still, it didn't bother her. Not even a little bit.

At least Artoo was with them.

"How do we look, Artoo?"

He was plugged into the main console's interface link, and swiveled his domed head to point his bright little photoreceptor at her. He whistled, long and extended.

"I know it's not the most efficient path, but we can't just go shooting straight through to Coruscant unless we're prepared to fight the whole Separatist fleet guarding Tirahnn," she said.

He gave several shrill beeps.

Ahsoka patted the lightsaber at her belt. "I'm with you, but the Twilight isn't up for it, buddy. She's only a freighter."

Artoo was hardly impressed, but agreed to stick with her plotted route. She had told Anakin she didn't need him to double-check it, and that was true, she didn't — but she regretted the tiniest bit that she hadn't had him at least look at it. Just to be sure.

It was too late now. The jump had gone smoothly and, barring any unforeseen disasters, they had nothing to do but wait.

She left Artoo at the helm and went to look for Master Kenobi.

When she found him, he seemed to have just finished exploring the ship. There wasn't all that much to really explore; most of the Twilight was empty space, since it was made to be filled with as much spice as possible to haul from one point to the next. Master Kenobi was in the cargo hold and seemed to be contemplating it far more deeply than it deserved, given that it was just a big, open floor and some walls. Two cargo containers were shoved into the corner, but their contents had been used up a long time ago, leaving nothing but the packing.

"What will we say if we're stopped?" he asked when she walked to stand next to him. "Given that we're a freighter with no freight."

"That we're on our way to pick up a load?"

Arms crossed, he eyed her doubtfully.

"I have a bunch of clearance codes," she said. "They should get us past an inspection, assuming the Seps aren't looking too closely. I think the goal is to not get stopped in the first place."

"And if we are?"

Was this a test? Anakin wasn't the kind of master to give tests, but Ahsoka didn't know Master Kenobi well enough yet to tell. She shrugged. "Fight our way out?"

Master Kenobi raised his eyebrows, took another look at the space, and then seemed to dismiss the matter from his mind. He walked back to the small living area, where some padded seats were set into the wall with a table between them, and a little kitchenette took up most of the rest of the space. Ahsoka followed. If there had been a test, she didn't know if she had passed or failed.

"Did you find your cabin?"

"I assumed it was the one stocked with extra sets of Anakin's tunics," he said, claiming one of the seats and slouching comfortably. He cocked his head at her, and she grinned a little.

"I'm not sure he realizes that, while his quarters might have a biopad lock, the steamers' where they keep the clean laundry doesn't."

She assumed that was where he'd filched the set he was currently wearing from, as well. Master Kenobi huffed, which was neither a confirmation nor a denial. "How long are we in for?"

"Four-ish days," said Ahsoka.

His head dropped back against the bulkhead, and he made a noise like a grunt. Not good news, then.

"It's about a day longer than it would normally take, because of the Separatist presence along the route," she explained. "I tried to shave as much distance off as possible, but they're still roadblocking the most direct paths."

"I suppose we'll have to keep ourselves occupied, then." Lifting one foot, he jogged the switch under the table with his boot, activating the holodisplay. "Do you play dejarik, by any chance?"

Ahsoka did, in fact, play dejarik.

"I haven't played in a while. Usually I play with Rex. Anakin cheats."

"Well, cheating properly is a skill of its own," said Master Kenobi, which was not at all what she had expected him to say.

Intrigued, Ahsoka took the seat across from him.

They played several rounds, and it took Ahsoka until halfway through the second one to really get familiar with the pieces and their skills again. He was already very clearly fluent in dejarik strategy; Ahsoka would ponder her next move for a minute and then make it, and he would have a move instantly ready, without having to think about it. He didn't cheat, at least that she could tell, but he didn't really need to. He was very accommodating, giving her tips and reminding her of different pieces' stats, but that didn't stop him from beating her soundly every time.

Midway through the fourth round, Artoo came rolling out of the cockpit and parked himself by the table. In a long string of beeps, he let Ahsoka know there was nothing interesting going on anywhere on the whole ship. Then he stayed and watched the game, seemingly just to heckle her.

"Sometimes I think it's a good thing that I can't understand what it's saying," said Master Kenobi.

Ahsoka moved a piece, and then glanced at Artoo. "He's pretty sure I was installed with a defective analytical core, and he could beat you in under ten moves."

"Is that so?" Master Kenobi narrowed his eyes.

"Well, he's welcome to have at it," said Ahsoka. "After this one I think I'm done for the night."

He still beat her, but this was the closest game yet.

"I like sabacc better, honestly," she said, rummaging around in the kitchenette for some of the food she had packed. Pulling out some nerf jerky for herself, she tossed the package across onto her seat and leaned over to check the conservator.

"Oh? Me too," said Master Kenobi. "Though it is harder to play a good game with just two people. Do we have a deck onboard?"

"I don't think so... Ice cream!" Ahsoka gasped. She had stocked them with plenty of human food, but she knew she hadn't put this in the conservator. Brandishing the little carton in the air like a trophy, she said, "Night made! Where did this come from?"

Master Kenobi raised an eyebrow, peering over at her from where he lounged in his seat, arms clasped behind his head. She thought he might have smiled, but it was there and gone too quickly to be sure. "From Anakin, I would assume," he said. "Can you even eat dairy products?"

"I can put them in my mouth and swallow them. Usually they make my stomach hurt, but sometimes it's worth it." Ahsoka shut the conservator and stood up, looking at the carton in her hand ruefully. Anakin was sometimes almost crazy thoughtful; he had made a Choosing Bead for her, and for some reason gone out of his way to pack this for them. It was true that Ahsoka had been feeling a little lost in the shuffle over the last few days, but in hindsight, maybe she had also been being a little dramatic. Really, Anakin never lost anyone. "Want some?"

"Oh no, I know he meant that for you."

While breaking out the spoons, it occurred to Ahsoka that if Anakin had put this in the conservator, then he had been on the Twilight at some point before departure, but after she had finished packing. She groaned.

"Something wrong?" Master Kenobi had propped his boots up on the table, but hadn't bothered to turn off the dejarik display, so miniature holographic animals were phasing through his feet. He didn't look bothered. As a matter of fact, he looked as though he might fall asleep there, head tilted back against his arms and eyes half-lidded.

Ahsoka pulled the cushion off the other seat and chose to sit cross-legged on the floor with her ice cream. "Anakin was double-checking my route and preparations, wasn't he?"

"Hm? Possibly."

Sucking gloomily on her spoon, she said, "I don't know why he doesn't trust me to do things right." She hadn't made a serious mistake in, well— quite a while, if you didn't count the disobeying orders incident from just days ago. Anakin's shadow felt nearly impossible to live up to. No matter how well you did something, no doubt he could have done it better.

"If he didn't trust you, he wouldn't have given you the task in the first place," said Master Kenobi. His eyes were completely closed now. "I'm sure he's just being mindful of his own duty to you, as his padawan. After all, prepping the ship may have been your responsibility, but you are his."

For a long moment, Ahsoka mulled this over.

"You know, Master Kenobi," she said at length, "actually, we didn't meet for the first time two days ago."

He aimed a narrowly slitted gaze at her.

"I was in one of your classes when I was an initiate. Negotiation and Mediation, I think. I was ten, I'm pretty sure, so it would have been five years ago? Six?"

"A-ah." Drawing the sound out long, he nodded. "I think I remember the class. I didn't teach very often... but I don't remember any particular students, I'm afraid. I'm sorry."

Ahsoka hadn't actually expected him to remember her. It had been a long time ago and there were hundreds of initiates, not to mention the fact that he'd just recovered from having his memory literally suppressed. "Don't worry about it. I'm sure I don't remember any of the curriculum from the class, either."

Master Kenobi snorted. "I'm sure."

"Actually, I do remember one thing," said Ahsoka.

"Don't tell me — is it the fruit?"

"Yeah! We did a mock negotiation over this jewel-fruit, only it was a trick. One side wanted the meat of the fruit, and the other side only wanted the rind, but nobody knew we wanted different things, so we couldn't compromise."

His grin was fleeting, but this time she caught it. "Everybody always remembers the fruit."

It had been an interesting exercise, and given Ahsoka quite a bit to think about in the next few days. She frowned, looking back over a childhood lesson with eyes that had seen a lot since then. "No offense, Master Kenobi, but it's not very realistic, is it? I mean, nobody in real life just realizes suddenly 'oh wait, we were never at odds in the first place,' do they?"

For the jewel-fruit negotiation, the initiates had been divided into two groups and each group given a briefing on their side's position: what they could afford to exchange for the fruit, what they ideally wanted to exchange for the fruit, why they needed the fruit, what they absolutely could NOT budge on, and so on. Some things, like their top price and lowest price, they obviously had to keep secret from the other side for the sake of effective bargaining. Nobody had thought the whole exercise could be solved instantly by just disclosing which part of the fruit they needed.

In her time as a padawan Ahsoka had sat at several negotiation tables, and she had never once seen a situation as simple as that, where both parties could walk away completely happy if they were just straightforward with each other. In her experience, people didn't usually fight over something unless they needed to.

He made a humming noise. "You'd be surprised at what ridiculous, unnecessary conflicts people sometimes get into, but no, in general, you're right." Sitting up, he dropped his feet down onto the floor and roused himself back to wakefulness. "The jewel-fruit exercise is a very simplified illustration, just meant to teach a single lesson."

"Don't assume," said Ahsoka, mouth full of ice cream.

"Exactly. Most negotiations that Jedi get called into aren't just harmless misunderstandings that can be easily straightened out by honesty. Ideally, you'll be able to find a compromise that will make everyone unhappy, but less unhappy than continuing the conflict." Master Kenobi had pivoted toward her in his seat, resting an elbow on the table and raking his fingers through his bangs. "Sometimes, no compromise is possible."

"Like the war."

"Yes," he said, looking thoughtful. "There can be no compromise with the Sith."

xxx

Ahsoka had given Master Kenobi the captain's cabin, which left the crew's quarters empty. The Twilight was made to be operated by just a pilot and co-pilot if necessary, but there were bunks for four crewmembers bolted to the wall, two bottom bunks and two top ones. Given that she was a crew of one, Ahsoka figured that they all belonged to her. Maybe she would even sleep in a different one every night. There would probably be enough time.

For now, she picked the fourth bunk — the bottom one furthest away from the door. Some Force-sensitives were bothered by the muted hum of hyperspace, she knew, but that had never really been a problem for her. She found it soothing, if anything. Still, sleep was difficult to come by for a while.

Staring into the darkness, she thought about Anakin, and hoped he wouldn't have too much trouble on Cartao. Ahsoka didn't really know how long the mission would take, or where he would be headed next. She had gotten a lot of information out of Rex, but not the whole picture. Being away from them at such a critical time made her uneasy. Clearly, Anakin had been hoping the Council would send her away somewhere else when she got to Coruscant, but she could convince them that her place was with her master.

Probably.

She hadn't known what to expect from Master Kenobi. She still didn't, really.

In her fuzzy recollections from five years ago, he was patient and wry. At the time she, like all the other initiates, had been intrigued to see what the Sithkiller would be like as a teacher. Ahsoka had never thought that one day she'd be the Chosen One's padawan. Now, thinking of them in those terms seemed a little silly, and definitely childish. Anakin might be the Chosen One, whatever that meant, but he was still just Anakin, her master. She knew him as well as she could know anybody.

Who, though, was Master Kenobi?

Anakin was like no other Jedi, so Ahsoka had expected his master to be unique in some way as well. Master Kenobi was very smart, that much she had gathered, and operated behind a layer of reserve that was pretty normal among Jedi. Anakin obviously gravitated to him like a planet to its life-giving sun, but his own sentiments were harder to gauge. So far, he seemed very different from Anakin.

Her thoughts drifting, Ahsoka fell asleep thinking fuzzily of the Temple, and everyone she wanted to visit while she was there.

Vague disturbances in the Force stirred her to semi-wakefulness during the night, but they were quickly recognized and dismissed before they could really disrupt her sleep. The clones often had nightmares, and she knew Anakin did too; Ahsoka's subconscious was well-practiced at filtering those tremors from real distress or danger. Her own nightmares were not so easy to escape, but none of them bothered her that night. Or at least, when she woke, she didn't remember them.

She had planned to sleep in. After all, there was nothing to be done and nowhere to go, which made this short voyage a rare opportunity for relaxation. Usually there would be reports to write about where she had just been, or briefings to read about where she was going, or Anakin wanting to spend every spare second training, or demanding her help to build something or break something.

Unfortunately, lying in bed all morning wasn't very restful when your stomach was rebelling against you.

Instead of getting to sleep, Ahsoka spent an uncomfortable amount of time in the refresher, and then staggered out into the living area. Artoo wasn't very sympathetic, telling her that she should have known better than to take in fuel incompatible with her systems. She could sense Master Kenobi in the cargo hold again, for some reason, so apparently he was an early riser too, but Ahsoka holed up in the cockpit by herself for a while.

When she felt less like death, she went to the kitchenette and drank some water. It looked like Master Kenobi had made both caf and tea, which seemed a little excessive. Searching for evidence that he had actually eaten food too, Ahsoka didn't find any. Part of her felt like this wasn't any of her business, especially given her own poor nutritional choices. Another, vaguely Anakin-shaped part, insisted that it was. He hadn't said, but she knew that at least one of his reasons for sending her on this trip was so she could act as a proxy for him. Anakin hadn't exactly given her a clear mandate, though, and she didn't want to overstep.

Nagging her master to take care of himself was one thing. Her master's master would be quite another.

Making her way to the cargo hold, Ahsoka discovered that Master Kenobi did have a good reason for being in there where nothing else was. She really should have known. He was doing katas. When she came in, he paused briefly, but continued after a moment. It was a basic hand-to-hand kata, the eighth of a ten-form sequence that initiates learned before they ever built their own lightsabers. His focus was a quiet undercurrent in the Force, and his movements were steady and even; sweat darkened his hair and stuck it to his forehead.

Clearly, he had been at it for a while already.

Ahsoka had pressed her back against the cool metal wall and, when he finished and returned to rest position, she slowly slid down to the floor and slouched there. "Ah," she said. "Training." Maybe he wasn't so different from Anakin.

"Come to join me?"

"Usually I would, but at the moment I'm not good for much." Ahsoka wrapped an arm around her stomach. "I ate the ice cream, I pay the price."

"And was it worth it?"

Making a vague hand motion, Ahsoka said, "Eh. Not the best flavor."

A hint of Master Kenobi's amusement leaked into the Force, but he simply returned to his katas. Ahsoka watched him finish out the last two of the sequence, restarting the tenth kata when his techniques were not as crisp as he wanted the first time. Sliding still further, she laid on the floor and pillowed her head on her arm. The decking was cold, but it felt nice; Anakin always ran his ships at near-molten temperatures, and she hadn't gotten around to resetting the life support settings yet.

When he was done Master Kenobi raked a hand through his sweaty hair, and Ahsoka smiled at the way it spiked up. "Well, I don't think I'm ready to move on to Teräs Käsi quite yet."

He shrugged at her, and she understood what he wasn't saying. Most of the next basic forms were lightsaber forms, and he didn't have one. Ahsoka unclipped her own 'saber from her belt, and held it up.

Frowning, he said, "That's not necessary. I can make do."

She threw it at him.

You can't just not catch a lightsaber. Master Kenobi's hand shot out, snatching the spinning 'saber hilt out of the air before it could fly past him. It hadn't been that good of a throw, but hey, it wasn't actually that easy to aim lying down. He didn't stop frowning.

"Well, if you insist," he said, but still waited as if expecting her to demand it back.

Pointedly, Ahsoka closed her eyes and relaxed.

Jedi weren't exactly territorial with their lightsabers, but they weren't something to trade around flippantly like a practice 'saber or an electroblade. Each Jedi's bond with the kyber crystal that created the blade meant that a lightsaber wasn't just an inanimate weapon — it was connected to its wielder, an extension of their identity and life force. Still, Ahsoka thought his hesitation was a little archaic. In battle, you used whatever weapon you had, and it wasn't like she had proposed a Concordance of Fealty or anything.

When Master Kenobi ignited the green blade, Ahsoka felt an answering hum deep in her chest. She listened, eyes still closed, and tried to imagine his movements as he swept it through the air. She could sense where he was in a vague way without really trying, but without sharpening her focus or looking, it could have been any lightsaber form, or none at all. Instead of Master Kenobi, she pictured a sunny day on the Jedi Temple training ground, where initiate clans would be performing 'saber drills in the shadow of the Great Tree. Free practice time there had always been her favorite.

It was easy to think back on those days now with nostalgia, but at the time she had been restless and frustrated. The spires of the Temple rising up around the training ground had seemed more like prison gates. Life in the creche was busy and challenging, but Ahsoka had known she was ready to do so much more, if a master would just give her the chance. Now that she was doing more, it was nice to return to the Temple. It was her home, a bedrock of peace that always stayed the same no matter how much chaos rocked the galaxy.

Some of her friends who were still in the creche probably wouldn't agree.

Opening her eyes, Ahsoka propped herself up on one elbow.

Master Kenobi was moving slowly through the end of a form, face set in concentration. She didn't recognize the sequence, but it didn't look terribly advanced. If it was Shii-Cho, she probably would have known it. Niman, maybe? His stances were clean and transitions smooth, but it must not have been as easy as it looked. Thinking hard during a form was generally a bad sign. When he finished, he shut off her lightsaber and braced a hand on his hip, shaking his head.

"Rusty?" asked Ahsoka. She sat up and crossed her legs.

"You could say that."

"What form was that? I haven't seen it."

His eyebrows lifted. "Just one of the basic Soresu series."

"We don't usually spend a lot of time on katas," she explained. He probably thought her training had been deficient, but it wasn't that, really. "Anakin likes to focus on more useful stuff."

"Katas not useful — now there's an opinion no padawan has ever expressed before." Master Kenobi's tone was dry, but there was no bite in it, and she suspected he was actually talking to Anakin. "Well, at the moment I'm afraid you're right. It's no use working on lightsaber technique until my connection to the Force is more reliable."

"You were suppressed for a long time, right?" Ahsoka had never been cut off from the Force, but the thought of it made her skin crawl. The closest thing she could imagine was going blind and having your hands amputated, so you could neither see nor feel.

He nodded, and walked over to offer her back her 'saber. "Thank you for the loan."

Thoughtfully, Ahsoka took the hilt, but didn't clip it back onto her belt. "You want to practice awareness? I could shoot at you. I'm pretty sure there's a blaster or two onboard somewhere."

"Tempting," said Master Kenobi seriously, "but there's a chance I could die, and I have been strictly forbidden from doing that again."

Fairly certain that was a joke, Ahsoka tilted her head back, looking up at him. "Well, I don't think we have a Mark-H..."

"I was actually thinking of something a little less lightsaber-dependent."

It took Ahsoka a second, but then she sprang to her feet. "Scramball?"

Nodding once, Master Kenobi took a step back, out of her space. "Not literally, obviously—"

Scramball was a team game that needed at least four players, and more like six for a good one. There was never any trouble rustling up that many willing padawans or initiates at the Temple, but if he just wanted to practice Force coordination and control, there was a much more straightforward way to go about it.

"—But I can throw stuff at you."

"Exactly."

"But what? We don't have a ball, or anything."

The only portable objects onboard that immediately jumped to Ahsoka's mind were either important pieces of technical gear, or the food stores — not things that should be used as projectile weapons. Master Kenobi just shrugged.

"Anything can be a ball if you apply the right pressure," he said, which was technically true and not at all helpful.

He went to the corner where the empty cargo containers were. Ahsoka could have warned him that there was nothing in them, but then he started ripping out the dense foam packing, and she understood. She clipped her lightsaber onto her belt and moved to help him. They pulled out large chunks of foam from the containers, and compressed pieces into vaguely spheroid shapes.

Ahsoka tossed a ball about the size of her fist into the air and caught it again. "These are actually pretty nice." She had thought the foam would be too light to actually have a good throwing weight, but a lot of compression was possible with the Force. It wasn't as heavy as a bronzium meditation ball, but it would work.

"If you're still not feeling well, you don't have to stay," said Master Kenobi. "I can just as easily use these on my own."

"Oh no," said Ahsoka. She was mostly fine by now, and what else was there to do on the ship? "I'm definitely going to throw these at you."

Master Kenobi took several of the makeshift balls and picked a position on the other side of the cargo hold. "Fire when ready."

Tossing one of the balls into the air, Ahsoka wrapped the Force around it. A burst of power, and it shot forward, across the bay like a rocket. Easily, he caught it.

"You're not supposed to catch it," said Ahsoka, firing up another one.

"Sorry, I didn't realize there were already rules to this game we are making up on the spot."

Ahsoka rolled her eyes. He wanted to drill Force control, right? Couldn't do that using your hands. "Do what I do." Levitating the second ball, she whirled it around her body, like a moon orbiting a planet, and then, with a sweep of her hand, sent it moving toward him more gently. "Once it passes the bay door line, it's yours," she warned.

The handoff was wobbly.

Master Kenobi's presence was a suffusing heat in the Force, like walking out of the cool indoors into the warmth of direct sunlight. Ahsoka felt the touch of his focus, but her retreat and his advance didn't quite match up, and for a moment the ball bobbed and wheeled in the air. It would be simpler if they had a bond, of course, but they didn't.

He copied what she had done, and passed it back. It took three or four more exchanges to get the process down smooth. Ahsoka picked random patterns, tracing the ball in symbol shapes in the air, or zig-zagging it and making it dance before pushing it back to him to do the same. When it seemed like they had the give-and-take working almost automatically, she sped up.

"Hard mode."

The ball whipped around her, flashing back and forth between them.

"Hard?" he said. While she was pulling the ball through a series of concentric circles on her side, Master Kenobi raised an open hand and levitated another one. Both balls passed each other in the air, and Ahsoka's eyes narrowed. Ultra mode, then.

She widened her stance a little, taking a breath and sinking deeper into the Force. Now she had to be aware of what he was doing, so that she could duplicate it, at the same time as she was creating her own pattern. At a higher speed, splitting that attention was a challenge. Instead of intensifying her focus on every detail, Ahsoka tried to relax. She let go of conscious thought. The Force was everywhere, every point in time — relying on it would always be faster and more accurate than relying on her own senses and brain to tell her what she needed to know.

Her movements became instinct. There was a timing to it, a rhythm like the push and pull of the tides, and Ahsoka fell into it, becoming a part of it. Her mind quieted, open to the Force, and her heartbeat slowed. It was almost like meditation.

Then, Master Kenobi added two more balls.

It was impossible to keep exchanging patterns — there wasn't time, with that many moving pieces — but Ahsoka knew what he had in mind. She could sense it, and adapted fluidly. They didn't follow each other anymore. Now they moved simultaneously, swirling the balls in intricate rotations at the same time, and then pushing them back the way they had come to do it again. It had turned into a sort of kata, Ahsoka thought, one that they were creating on the fly together, move by move.

When they incorporated another pair of balls, it was by unspoken mutual agreement. Six of them spun through the air, whipping by Ahsoka's montrals and then curving back around like comets tracing a far-flung orbit. It looked as if a few of them should hit each other on their paths, but they didn't. It would have taken a compu-droid a few minutes to calculate the patterns underlying the seemingly chaotic movement, but to Ahsoka they were as clear in the Force as the notes of a song she was playing.

A ball smacked against the bulkhead, slipping off-course, and a discordant ripple burned through the empty clarity — frustration, edged with dismay.

Ahsoka caught one ball automatically as it began to fall, but the others were out of her reach. They dropped, hitting the ground and rolling wildly every which-way. Blinking, Ahsoka refocused, jarred suddenly out of the quasi-meditative state she had sunk into. What had happened?

Master Kenobi stood with his hand pressed to his face, just under his nose. When he pulled it away, she saw the blood.

"Sithspit," Ahsoka said. She knew what that meant.

"It's fine." His annoyance was a bright, angry flare in the Force. "Just a nosebleed."

"Maybe we should take a break?"

"It seems so," he said, frowning darkly at his hand.

He went to the 'fresher to clean up, and Ahsoka retreated to the kitchenette, feeling like the biggest idiot the Jedi Temple had ever produced. Her mandate absolutely didn't include letting Master Kenobi push himself to the point of psychic shock. She had gotten caught up in the new drill and hadn't even thought to wonder whether it was a safe exertion for him. Anakin would have her hide.

Not knowing what else to do, she made food for both of them and heated up the caf.

When he reappeared, the bleeding seemed to have stopped, and there was no sign of his earlier irritation. "I hope Anakin wasn't too attached to these tunics," said Master Kenobi, rubbing at a new dark stain on the collar of the outer tunic.

"A little blood adds character." Ahsoka took a caf cup in both hands and offered it to him.

With both hands, he took it. "Thank you, Ahsoka."

Relief lightened the tight knot in her chest, and she gave him a hopeful, crooked smile. She wouldn't insult him with apologies. After all, he was a Jedi Master — or a knight? Ahsoka had assumed he was a master, but she wasn't actually sure — and could direct his own training. He was probably the type who would scoff if she tried to claim any responsibility anyway... but it was still nice to know that nothing serious had been broken.

"Next time, maybe I'll stop at four," said Master Kenobi thoughtfully, taking a sip of the caf.

His tone was wry, but— "Next time?"

"We still have days left," he pointed out. "I'm hardly going to spend them twiddling my thumbs."

"Of course." Ahsoka sighed.

"Unless you're up for another game of dejarik?"

She crossed her arms, giving him the unimpressed look he was certainly expecting. "Well, I was thinking you might wait until we got to the Temple to begin training under the supervision of healers, but obviously that was unrealistic."

"Your instincts serve you well. I can see why Anakin chose you as his padawan."

"I like to think that it was for my irresistible charm and many talents," said Ahsoka, matching his sarcasm. "But chose would be a bit of an exaggeration."

"Oh?"

Master Kenobi's eyebrows rose over the caf cup, and Ahsoka kicked herself. What had possessed her to bring that up? It was in the past, and didn't even bother her anymore. She hadn't really talked about it with anyone, not even her friends, so why should she start now?

"Yeah..." Her clear reluctance elongated the word. "Master Yoda kind of twisted his arm."

Dryly, he said, "It seems there's a lot of that going around."

"A lot of what?"

Master Kenobi leaned against the counter. "Almost the same thing happened to me."

Really? Ahsoka had never heard about that. Not from Anakin, obviously — he talked about his past selectively and sparingly — but not from any of the stories and rumors, either. "Master Yoda strong-armed you, too?"

"No." He snorted, like the thought was amusing. "He strong-armed my master."

Part of Ahsoka wanted to react with disbelief. No one had chosen Master Kenobi? That couldn't be right — in his time, the war hadn't started. There should have been plenty of masters to go around. But it probably hadn't been like that, she reasoned on second thought. Who could tell what plans Master Yoda had up his sleeve? He probably had just had something very specific in mind for Master Kenobi at the time.

Master Yoda usually wasn't wrong, anyway. For a long time, Ahsoka had felt driven by Anakin's initial rejection, trying to outrun it, prove that she could be good enough for him. He was still a lot to keep up with, but now it felt like they had always been meant to work together. It had probably been the same for Master Kenobi and his master, and for him and Anakin. She shrugged. "Well, I think Anakin and I ended up making a pretty good team."

"Yes, I think you do."

Master Kenobi couldn't have had much basis on which to form an opinion, but his agreement still made her want to beam a little. "And if you had to go back and do it again, you would still pick Anakin, right?"

Ahsoka had asked the question before she thought about it. It wasn't, probably, something she would have said if she had taken the time to consider it, but something about Master Kenobi made it easy to speak freely to him. The only possible answer was yes, like Anakin had said when he gave her the Choosing Bead he'd made — but Master Kenobi only frowned slightly, and the silence stretched.

After a long minute, he said, "I have to believe that things happened as they were meant to."

It wasn't the yes, of course response she had expected. Had she stepped on a land mine of some kind? Ahsoka felt caught, unsure which way to go from here. Why wouldn't you choose Anakin? Her master was amazing, a great Jedi. She didn't know what, exactly, Master Kenobi was thinking about, but it was clear that if she persisted in this line of questioning she would quickly find herself overstepping.

"He turned out okay. Only a tiny bit on the crazy side," she joked, trying for flippancy.

He tilted his head at her, saying just as easily, "That's true. You can't argue with results."

Ahsoka still didn't know him very well, but she was pretty sure he could and would argue with results, if necessary. He didn't argue when she suggested eating lunch, though, seeming as pleased to leave behind serious subjects as she was. Afterward, he went straight back to the cargo hold, which wasn't too surprising. She had dared to hope that maybe he would reconsider, but Ahsoka had known better than to really expect it.

The Twilight didn't have a full medbay, just a holostation with some med droid programming. She didn't know what she would do if he went into full psychic shock. And sure, a nosebleed was a long way from that point, but it still was a sign that you were lifting heavier than your body could handle.

Luckily, when Ahsoka checked on him throughout the afternoon, he seemed to be spending most of that time meditating. A few of the balls they had created levitated in front of him as he sat, cross-legged and eyes closed, and she sensed nothing but steady focus in the Force.

For herself, Ahsoka pulled out a datapad and got caught up on all the correspondence she'd been semi-ignoring for the last month or so. She had answered some of it — the important stuff. Mostly. Her responses to notes from her friends had been sporadic, though, ever since... well, ever since she had been captured by those Trandoshans. Really, she was just busy, she tried to tell herself. And she was busy. It wasn't like the war ever took a break.

But she had been busy since the day she became Anakin's padawan, and she had still been pretty good about keeping in touch with her friends. Throwing herself into the missions to the exclusion of all else was newer, and she had to admit it smacked of avoiding something she didn't want to think about. Ahsoka couldn't deny that much, but she didn't have to think about it — whatever it was — now.

Instead, she went steadily through her messages, recording responses and queueing them to be sent once they left hyperspace. It would be a little bit silly at that point, since most of her friends were on Coruscant and by the time the Twilight dropped out of hyperspace, they would be mere hours away from landing at the Temple. Better late than never, though.

Expanding a message from Padme, Ahsoka smiled. She would definitely have to visit the senator while she was on Coruscant. Who else had she not spoken to in a while? Barriss, she thought, pulling up her friend's private comlink channel. There wasn't much chance she would be at the Temple when Ahsoka was, but she could at least send Barriss a quick message.

Thinking about the comm she would send Anakin when they touched down (we made it, no complications, your master is fine) Ahsoka superstitiously didn't draft it. There were, after all, still three days left.

Master Kenobi emerged from the cargo bay hours later. Ahsoka could sense his fatigue, but he was mobile and not bleeding, so that was good. He tried to provoke her into playing dejarik again, but Ahsoka held her ground.

"I know who is willing to play you, though," she said cheerfully.

He scoffed at the very idea, but eventually got bored enough to start a game with Artoo.

Ahsoka grinned down at her datapad, listening to Artoo's trash talk. Master Kenobi didn't know what he was saying, but clearly had his suspicions. He alternated between aiming a narrow-eyed gaze at Artoo and frowning over the board in deep concentration.

As entertaining as it was, Ahsoka didn't get to find out who won. She went to the cockpit to check on everything before heading to bed, and ended up curled up in the pilot's chair watching the hypnotic radiance of hyperspace dance outside the viewport. They were on schedule, and all the ship's readings were perfect. She wished Anakin were here.

"Please, the table's computer could make a better move than that."

Faintly, Ahsoka heard Master Kenobi's voice from the living area, and Artoo's indignant shriek. She fell asleep there without even realizing it, head slumped against the seat, light and shadow rippling over her in an infinite flow.