Star Wars - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Covalent Bonds ❯ Chapter 47

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Regork found himself rubbing the base of his tail stub again, wondering if the bacta had started to regenerate his musk gland, or even if it could. Without his gland, he could not give off the soothing waves of pheromones that aided his patients to relax enough to unburden themselves. He thought that being a Soul Healer was light convalescent duty, but the Council had thought otherwise and had confined him to half-days in his refurbished office treating patients, the other half "something completely out of your comfort zone, something to heal you, Healer." Working with Obi-Wan, Tyler Orzo and Six in the Analysis Room, with the occasional commed consultation with Plo Koon, had certainly diverted his attention from his wound and he wondered if today were the day that they would see a breakthrough. He hoped so. Working with a Praci, especially this Praci, made him nervous. Praci were so happy.
"Obi-Wan, I'm Praci. I can't touch the crystal, mmmm, as you can," Tyler burbled, "but now that you've changed your mind about the lawsuit, shall we focus on the crystal problem, mmmm?" The electrical discharge from the nodes on the duraformica lab table could have turned him to sludge in seconds, but the knowledge of his closeness to sudden death didn't stop his infectious laugh.
Obi-Wan shot Tyler a look before turning his attention to regulating the amperage of the electrical discharge. What about client-negotiator privilege? What about keeping your, your, orifice shut about litigation that was discussed but not initiated, mmmm, mmmm? Tyler's memory might be prodigious, but in the three weeks that they had been colleagues in the lab, Obi-Wan had had to hold his tongue more often than he liked about Tyler's blithe ability to discuss absolutely everything in the cheerful assumption that what happened in the Jedi family, stayed in the Jedi family. He's been up in his spire too long to connect with the idea that Jedi have privacy among themselves, especially those in a relationship. Still rankled about the slur on his and Anakin's names from the fiction authors, but willing to follow the barrister's advice to channel his energy into further research, Obi-Wan forced himself to move on. "Yes, well. As you say." I can't think about Anakin and the twins every single minute of the day. Onward. He turned the amperage up a click.
Tyler continued chortling merrily. The flask containing the crystal looked ominous, as if it could be holding secrets to ending the war or at least to giving the Republic forces an edge to gain more victories. At the present, crysties had replaced all metal infantry droids and the preponderance of seafaring droids on watercraft. Tinnies still flew in space battles; the rapid fluxes of gravity rattled crysties and turned them into incohesive useless piles on the seats of their Vulture-class droid starfighters. In the heat of battle before they could reform, they were slagged by clone pilots. The Separatists seemed to have adjusted their forces: tinnies in the air and hyperspace, crysties to gain the field on land and sea. The war was at a stalemate after nearly four years.
Six kept his eyes on the flask. His strategy of water cannons had led to Republic victories on ten worlds of plains and plateaus, dustballs that could be turned into quagmires with water cannons eroding the soil, producing a run of sloughs in which the crysties floundered. His General and the other Jedi kept him on detached duty, to "input his unique experiences into the laboratory experience." His General deserved all the help he could get; Six considered Obi-Wan a casualty of the war. Surely to be in his physical condition was a wound, of sorts? Of the other two Jedi, Regork was another walking wounded trooper. Occasionally, Regork would sway or stumble without his tail to counterbalance his movements and after a few days of this, Six had offered to show him a few martial arts movements to aid the Glarsaur's balance, for which effort Regork hissed his thanks. Six schooled his features when the garrulous Praci was around him. It took all Six's tolerance to stay in the same room with the gabby Jedi who could not possibly help ---
"Sir!"
"What is it, Six?" Obi-Wan leaned in, adjusting his loupe to observe the crystal. "Progress?"
"Mmmm, Regork, stop that with your claws and take a look at this! I knew it, mmmm, I knew that the application of an electrical field would do something!" Tyler formed three large circles in the area that most termed his face; the circles moved about until they aligned to form an expression of two large eyes and a mouth wide open in shock.
"Here, stand back, it's going to --- "
Blam! The crystal splintered into dust, coating the inside of the reinforced flask. Dust that could not possibly reform, though they all waited as if fearing that the dust would readhere into crystals and they would have to start experimenting all over again. The dust remained dust.
"Oya!" "We did it!" "Which planet shall we unveil it on, I think that --- " "Blubbleknewthatholocronwouldnotletmedownglrrrpplorborba!"
Go t you, Dooku. And you, too, Grievous. Obi-Wan sank upon a lab stool. "Everyone, this is the first test that has a solid case for success. It's late, we all need to come back tomorrow morning with fresh minds. Regork, you and Six work on your balance this evening. Tyler, my deepest thanks."
"Piezoelectric materials," Tyler began to spout, his head now showing only one wide open seething orifice that Obi-Wan averted his eyes from, "also show the opposite effect, that of converse piezoelectricity, where the application of an electrical field creates a mechanical deformation in a crystal. When a mechanical stress is applied, this symmetry is disturbed, and the charge asymmetry generates a voltage across the material. For example, a one-centimeter cube of quartz with two --- " He had no need to stop for breath and Obi-Wan kept his gaze fixed firmly on the crystal while the Praci rambled on. We've finally got something, a solid lead to success. Now to implement it. Obi-Wan smiled and nodded in the right places. Anakin won't be home yet. I have a chance to decompress for a few hours and by the stars, I'm going to take it. The others filtered out of the lab, laughing and bouncing on their feet in joy. Obi-Wan began to tidy up. Anakin leaves tomorrow for his mission. If I believed in the Naboo's Goddess of Safety, I'd burn a candle to Her now. He left the lab secure and headed for the hangar and his modded speeder bike. A ride in the cool autumn air to the Esplanade, just what I need.
IOIOIOIOIOIOIOIOIO
Obi-Wan dropped the decorative pillow shaped like an eopie when the Vice-Chancellor of the Republic backed into him in the cozily crowded upscale shop for younglings' attire.
"I beg your pardon, so much to enjoy here, isn't this lovely --- Obi-Wan Kenobi?" Padme clutched the froufrou around the neckline of the three girl's dresses that she was holding. "Master Jedi, you're --- you're --- "

"I am. Consider me as a shapeshifter, Your Excellency. It makes things easier to think of, somehow." And now on to business. "You're not alone, surely?" Obi-Wan stepped closer to Padme, brushing aside his robe so that she could see his lightsaber. "I'm able to escort you anywhere you need to go." I'll return to shop in peace later. And why is she in this particular shop?

You. And Anakin. "Congratulations. Erm, I told my bodyguard that I wanted the illusion of privacy. She's here somewhere, and my driver knows teras kasi because of her training and --- " I never want to know the details of something like this. The ways of the Force and its users scare me. --- "I'm on the hunt for just the right tarine tea party dress for Pooja. She is having her eighth Life Day next week. I don't suppose you know this, but Yoon's Youngling Boutique outfits up to the age of twelve Standard for humans." She stopped. "I like younglings, you know. They don't have to be mine for me to like them." Why didn't Anakin mention this?

"Padme, my pillow, please." I will not, will not use the Force to pick up something I've dropped.

"Of course."

"Thank you." Obi-Wan bowed and turned to leave the aisle.

I never want to go through what you're going through. Not even with Enri, if we pursue things. We'll adopt. "Obi-Wan."

I am a Master. I can handle this. "Yes."

"For what it is worth, I am happy for you and Anakin. I can't think of a better set of parents than you two, whether you live in the Temple with the Jedi or go off on your own with your, uh, other group of Jedi." Don't use the word 'rebel' even though that is what they are. She offered a smile which Obi-Wan returned. By the time he had finished shopping, she had departed, unfulfilled in her quest for the perfect frock.
I'm purchasing this. A carriage for twin younglings, just the thing. I can't rely on someone to want to carry them all the time, not even Anakin, not even me, Obi-Wan thought. He spent the last of his stipend on the deluxe model, advertised to have ultra-quiet repulsors. There were pockets and slots for things that he couldn't even imagine.
"Deliver it to the Jedi Temple, please." The clerk gave no sign that she thought the purchase was unusual. He headed for the Esplanade's speeder park. My speeder bike. Thank the stars that I can still pilot it. I don't know if I'd chance riding a STAP, though. There was a grand opening of some shop or other up ahead on the walkway, complete with a fatuous speaker flourishing outsized cutters over a large cerise ribbon. There must have been some famous sponsor in the ceremony, because a cadre of journalists crowded about with their holocams. Suddenly, one turned away from her assignment, spotted Obi-Wan in his robes and nudged her colleague. Recording the celebrity's doings seemed forgotten as one after the other pointed holocams in Obi-Wan's direction, holding them over the heads of the crowd to capture his pregnant image. Protect the younglings. It's hardwired into me. He mapped an alternate route to the speederpark as he eluded the crowd's fringes. One member of the holocam-crazy segment followed, more agile than the rest. A flash, a fatuous grin on a Gran's muzzle and if that Gran had been the only member of the paparazzi to consider him newsworthy enough to follow, Obi-Wan might have been equanimical about things, but suddenly there were five more, pointing, falling to their knees to get an upwards shot that would accentuate his unusual size and it all became too much for Obi-Wan. He turned away, walking briskly because if he stayed in place he might have been tempted to Force-push them all away from him violently. He walked as fast as he could, but they followed, elbowing other patrons of the Esplanade, slithering through sets of parents holding younglings' hands, changing the murmur of the crowd to a hubbub. In a flash, he was surrounded. He spun around to face them, pushing his way backward to where his observing-without-looking told him there was a narrow service walkway between the protective railing on the walkway and an exotic fruit shop. He turned his head to gauge the width of the walkway, the paparazzi surged forward, his bootheel skidded on a discarded fruit peeling and his center of gravity shifted. He flipped backwards over the railing. I'm falling, like in Anakin's vision.
Obi-Wan felt as weightless as he did swimming in the pools of the Temple and blissfully at peace, the hounding paparazzi with their flashes and intruding beaks gone from sight and sound. For a split second, time stood still and he closed his eyes. A passing Pa'lowick on a distant lateral walkway blatted as if in a hot jizz band solo and the notes shot through Obi-Wan's head. He opened his eyes enough to see walkways crisscrossing fifty meters below him, one at one level, one at another. Wish I had a Togruta's spatial sense. He would hit the first walkway, bounce off it and impact the second, there, near its entrance to a garish dress shop whose enticing bolts of cloth seemed like something Amidala would enjoy purchasing. No. This will not happen. Knowing what the twins would do next and gritting his teeth against it, he called on the Force to pull an old-fashioned hanging lamp's chain to him, grabbed it with one hand while he supported his abdomen against the snapping of the rebound action. But the twins acted differently than ever before. When his hand lost its grip on the chain and it began to slip through his fingers, the friction burn eased as something like a glove surrounded his stinging fingers. As if on a Padawan rope-climbing exercise in the salles, his descent slowed enough for him to swing his legs and aim for the lower walkway, missing the crisscrossing one above it. When he reached the walkway, making a neat feet-together landing, the glove disappeared. Beings of all species rushed to his side, chattering their concern, pointing upward to the arc of his wild descent, not quite daring to reach out and pat his shoulder reassuringly. In a daze, he rubbed his hand. It was flushed, but the skin was not broken, not peeled off from the friction. Thanks, littles. The twins kicked ferociously as if to communicate their glee. Obi-Wan pushed his way through the crowd, nodding to indicate his wellbeing, smiling to calm everyone. The crowd parted to release him and surged back together to discuss the excitement. Soon, they drifted away, all except for the few hangers-on whom the paparazzi interviewed, visions of bonuses fueling their chatter. Obi-Wan's mood blackened again on the ride home. The next morning, when Yoda had briefed the Kenobi/Skywalker team on their mission to force Dooku and Grievous to ground, he was still in a funk.
IOIOIOIOIOIOIOIO
"Master Yoda is late to the hangar, after all his lectures about punctuality." Anakin jostled his duffel over his shoulder, eager to be on the hunt. His new persona fit him well, Obi-Wan thought. Black on black outfit, except for the vest and the blaster. He's going off on his own again. Now that he had been fully awakened to what an attachment meant, Obi-Wan knew it might be beyond his strength to lose one from his life. He and Qui-Gon had loved each other as true friends, but what he had with Anakin went beyond friendship and if he were never to see Anakin again ... Eh. I go in and out like the tide in these feelings. The prospect of living without Anakin is more dismal than it has any right to be. Must be low tide.
In one corner of the hangar stood a newly-modded sparkling Delta-7 Aethersprite that Obi-Wan and Anakin both had fine-tuned. It sparkled because they had deemed a matte finish too dull for a spice smuggler. There was a cover story in place about Anakin's smuggler background that Obi-Wan had rehearsed tirelessly with Anakin. Anakin made certain to flourish his Glarsaur hide vest, made from Regork's tail. Take it, Regork had said. It makes me feel part of your mission. I never have been on a mission, you know. Regork's contribution to the modding had been to fetch and carry and admire. There was a place for him in the modding crew, along with faraway Saesee. Saesee had input a few suggestions from Dantooine, but Anakin could tell his mind was elsewhere, settling in to a co-leader position with Adi. Siri had yelled raucous encouragement from the background. As a Councilmember, Obi-Wan knew that Siri's next mission would begin directly from Dantooine after her escort of Adi and Saesee and ARC5231 and the rest of the Olanet Three Hundred ended in one week. He missed her.
"Far be it from me to hold you back, Anakin. Leave to go find him."
What has gone wrong? "I know you'd rather be in the field. Now you can't. I'm trying to keep you in the loop with all this traveling I'm doing. What do you want, can't you see I'm trying --- "
What do I want? Nothing but you. "Be the best in the field yourself. I'll continue to liaise as well as work on the crystals. With Tyler's help, it's only a matter of time before we have an complete answer."
Time. 'Make time your friend,' Master Porrie always said. Yes, but how, Master Porrie? You are safely out of time now. And Obi-Wan's condition is marching through time so kriffing inevitably. This is the kind of thing that lovers do, too, Anakin thought. He was trying to frame his thoughts into coherence when a venerable, loved presence approached. "Master Yoda is coming now. Can you tell?"
Obi-Wan didn't bother. "I don't want to use the Force at the moment. They kick all the harder when I do and it will distract me from looking at you, seeing your face for the last time in what may be ye--- " Obi-Wan folded his arms over his chest in that way that he had when thinking through a problem or having a difficult conversation. "No. I didn't mean to say that." Obi-Wan made a conscious effort and placed his hands at his sides. Then he clenched Anakin's bicep almost painfully. "You've changed, inside and out. It's asking a lot of me now to get used to it quickly, but I will, I will. I promise you." Obi-Wan riffled Anakin's beard. "It's like looking into a mirror."
You're dreaming while wide awake, Master. "I'll take care of it. It's the kind of thing lovers do for each other. When I come back, it'll be gone. I promise you." But I wouldn't be human if I didn't want to enjoy it a little while longer. They lingered in a goodbye kiss.

Yoda turned back when they were finished. "Briefed, you both have been. This chip, duplicates there are. Master Secura, smuggled five of them personally off Nar Shaddaa with great difficulty herself. Invaluable, she is." Yoda cracked a small smile, the first in weeks, Obi-Wan Sensed. "Like the Great Hunt of so long ago, this is, but like Qel-Droma and Nuur and Saresh, we are not. Fall out over romantic entanglements, we shall not." Obi-Wan saw that Yoda's claws had worn new grooves into his naynabo gimer stick, evidence that he had needed it to nurture blandness on Nar Shaddaa. I don't want to know what you disguised yourself as on Nar Shaddaa, or how Aayla hooked up with you to pass on the information she sliced from 8t-88's database. Obi-Wan tried harder to concentrate on Yoda's words. But I need to know what Anakin is heading into.

Yoda began with a mournful sigh. "A droid with vengeance integrated into his hard drive, 8t88 was. If living being he had been, poisoned the air around him, he would have with his dark thoughts. Confused, filled with hatred he was except for one other: his hornagaunt pet."

It's even more astounding to hear it said again. A droid with a living pet. "Master Yoda, I have credits in my vest, I have a transponder injected in my clavicle and I have the best support team ever. I think I am well prepared." Humility? Can I hear some humility? "I'll finish what you and Aayla set up for me. You two have done the truly difficult work."

Obi-Wan smiled genuinely when Anakin left, the young Knight waggling his control surfaces jauntily. Oh, I've got a good feeling about this.

Meanwhile, on Dantooine's smaller moon ...

A home of my own, right under their supercilious noses! Dooku surveyed his new home. It had been described as a three-bedroom split-level with a pool, but it was so much more that Dooku was pleased beyond his fondest hopes. All new carpeting, not anything as elegant or fitting as terentatek, but a napped carpet is not to be sneezed at. And a room that Grievous can plot his campaigns in, and a servant's room. A droid servant. Ah, well.

"Milord, your shuttle awaits." Downsizing. He must be humiliated. Grievous was as nomadic as ever and when he thought hard enough about it, he was certain he had always been. He had no need of a home, only honor, glory and Jedi lightsabers that he collected steadily. Last month had been a record month.

He has his uses. "Program my droid to clean thoroughly and download my cuisine preferences. Take care to enable the security system and integrate its web with the droid's central brain. Do not fail me."

"Yes, Milord Dooku." If there were any other Dark Lord to ally myself with ...

Snippy. I definitely heard snippy undertones in that reply. "Warm the shuttle. These late autumn winds chill the bones." I'll use the kudana cloak this evening.

"Will Milord be very much longer? The battle timetable you authorized is quite precise." Hurry up.

Might as well go. No more auctions for Honest1. A little holonews before departing. Dooku stood in lieu of sitting on the floor. A hunt for furniture was the next item on the agenda. He punched the holocomm which was sitting on two sawhorses. At least we'll get Coruscant on this thing.

"'The ways of the Force are mysterious indeed. A pregnant Jedi was spotted on the Glitannai Esplanade today, shopping for his offspring as if it were the most common event in the galaxy. He became belligerent when approached by our crusading staff and his own clumsiness led him nearly to disaster. I apologize for the quality of these clips. The Jedi was seen making a pass with one finger before his accident nearly claimed his and his unborn youngling's lives. Our fearless staff reported momentary dizziness and upon recovering, they had pressed the 'blur' control on their holocams. This was the best of the lot."

Dooku snorted. This is the Order I swore fealty to all those long years ago. Pregnant male Jedi. Hmmph. "Our gallant staff could not place him among the Jedi that they had covered before. It is possible that he has been in seclusion out of shame. The revised Code has been denigrated by many old-time Jedi, the stalwart ones that we of the Republic have respected for so long --- " Impossible.

"Milord, the time --- "

" --- will wait for another minute. Go along now and warm it up as I asked, there's a good cyborg."

He's agreeable? Grievous offered, "I'll program the droid double-quick, Milord, and wait for you in the transport."

"Yes. Do that."

TBC