Clone Wars: Skywalker and Kenobi are leaving a muddy planet after a long mission. Kenobi can't wait to get back to Coruscant because his former Padawan is driving him mad. He will find out he is not so eager to leave.
(Obi-Wan POV - CoverArt: CoreW...
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As my pilot performs the gentlest of take-offs, I turn the holoviewer on. The HNN is covering the Mandalorian emergency non-stop. Nothing new has occurred yet; they keep scrambling words around the same few concepts, wearily broadcasting the same footage on a loop. Their impatience for fresh blood is almost palpable.
Unsurprisingly, the Senate shows no intention to treat with Tann, and not only because she's asking too much; Satine's death by the hand of the Separatists would probably end Mandalore's neutrality once and for all. Moreover, I doubt the Chancellor will cry hot tears over the unfortunate loss of his most persistent political opponents. As for Shaali... well, she's just a nerf to the slaughter. I'm afraid the Republic has little interest in altering the natural course of events.
When Ahsoka comes back, I turn down the volume and invite her to sit with me at the small round table. I catch her up with those hostages' identities she was still missing, and reveal that her Master is on Mandalore as well - no need to add what this implies.
The girl is used to fear for the lives of those she cares for and to look braver than she is; silently looking outside the porthole for a few seconds is all she needs to swallow the news.
"You know him, Master. He's gonna make it," she says. "All we can do is keep an eye on the news channel. I'll get us a couple of sandwiches - if the maintenance droids ever refurbished this scrap - and we'll play Dejarik. Then, we'll rest and be ready for whatever awaits us tomorrow."
A child feels the need to soothe me - and I allow it. This says it all.
I lost faith into my judgment to the point I trust a man who deems reasonable to sneak all alone into a mansion patrolled by hundreds of elite soldiers - not to mention, the most powerful Dark Acolyte I've met in a long time.
We watch the soundless news for a while, lost in our thoughts. Then, we follow Ahsoka's plan thoroughly, affecting calm, checking the time till next death, struggling to keep our mind from what we can't change.
"So, what's with the boy at the arena?" I ask, waiting for her move.
"Chatting to confuse your adversary... I should've known Anakin had learnt it somewhere." Ahsoka takes a huge bite from her plar sandwich and nonchalantly traps me in a fork I totally should've avoided. "Your turn, Obi-Wan."
After a minute of thoughtful chin-stroking, I resolve to save the M'onnok and abandon my poor Ghhh to its fate. My ego can survive this debacle only if I delude myself I'm letting her win.
"You're not answering," I remind her.
She pensively watches the old, scrapped board, where her piece is mauling mine. "The pus-bag was telling around I can't fight for shavit. And that I had slept with him."
I must cover my mouth to smother a snigger. "For the first time, I'm grateful I'm not your Master. He would've to lecture you, while I can say he deserved it."
