Obi-Wan Kenobi slouched happily in the pilot's seat of the transport ship he was bringing about for a landing on the pad of the Jedi Temple. "We're here, Master!" he called out to the dozing Qui-Gon Jinn.

"Huh, wha-?" Qui-Gon rose with a start, instantly alert. "Ah, we're here."

Obi-Wan shook his head, smiling, as he set the small ship down. "Just in time for dinner, Master."

"Excellent. Perhaps I can find some ingredients and rustle us up a little something in the quarters."

"If I'm not mistaken, this is the night Master Windu makes his 'kickass, mo-fo, bitchin' BBQ bantha ribs.'"

Qui-Gon considered that statement cautiously. "Are you implying that you would rather eat with the others, tonight?" he asked, trying to interpret his Padawan's feelings.

"I'm saying that we may not have a choice," Obi-Wan commented, securing the ship.

The hatch slid open to reveal a smiling initiate. "Master Jinn, Padawan Kenobi, welcome! My name is Kefwe-Dan Shilo. Master Windu sent me to greet you and bring you to the common rooms. He said you will surely be hungry after your long journey."

Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon exchanged glances over the young boy's head. "And so it begins," Qui-Gon sighed.

Obi-Wan balanced the baby on his hip and made his way to the creche. It was not often that he and Qui-Gon returned to the Temple, but the collection of Force-sensitive infants was a mission that required immediate return.

Kefwe-Dan had already taken Qui-Gon to the common rooms to partake in the annual picnic that seemed to occur with nearly no planning, and centered around Mace Windu's 'kickass, mo-fo, bitchin' BBQ bantha ribs.' He fully planned to dump the baby in the nearest empty crib and go up himself, to get a plateful of ribs. It didn't work out that way. "Where is everyone?" Obi-Wan looked around, seeing rows of sleeping babies in the softly lit, quiet nursery, but no one tending to them. He saw the empty crib prepared for the new arrival, and he lowered the sleeping baby carefully into it. He smiled as he looked at its sleeping face, and back away, silently.

The instant his hands left the infant's body, its eyes snapped open and an insistant wail broke from its throat. "Wait! No, don't do that!" Obi-Wan patted the baby helplessly on the stomach, hoping to soothe it. Instead, the baby next to it woke, also screeching bloody murder. "Oh, Sith," Obi-Wan muttered, scooping up 'his' baby and looking around for anyone who might provide help.

One by one, the babies broke out in tears, startled by the abrupt termination of their naps, and some reinforced by hunger or that most uncomfortable dampness that only babies experience.

Obi-Wan muttered a slightly stronger curse, trotting over to a large box, which held bottles of the nutritional substance fed to the babies. He gathered as many as he could tuck under his arm, and began dealing them out to the children. He used the Force to soothe them, trying not to overdo it, as Qui-Gon was wont to do.

Wait a minute, he thought, stopping in his bottle distribution. Maybe I should overdo it. That would put the little monsters to sleep immediately. His face broke out in a grin as he realized this, and was reaching out with the Force when an indignant feminine voice behind him barked out, "What are you doing?"

"Who? Me?" Obi-Wan spun around, trying to look innocent.

"Yes, you, and don't try that innocent look with me." The speaker was a young woman with blond hair caught up in several twisted loops. She pushed past him, collecting the bottles again. She turned back to glare at him with her large blue eyes, and Obi-Wan's sixteen-year-old heart dissolved into a quivering mass of teenage lust.

"Here, let me help you," he offered, trying to gather the bottles and not drop the baby precariously balanced on his hip.

"I can do it--" she started, right before the bottles under Obi-Wan's arm started spilling out. They stopped inches from the floor. "You've done enough," she finished, using the Force to send the bottles back to their rightful places.

Obi-Wan watched her in undisguised admiration. "What? You've never seen someone who is not a Jedi use the Force? I was an initiate, too," she informed him. "We all were. We just didn't get chosen to be Padawans."

"I almost didn't get chosen," Obi-Wan volunteered, trying to relate to her. "I had been sent away and it was only a few weeks before my thirteenth birthday."

"But you did get chosen," she pointed out to him. "I did not, so my job is to take care of the babies. Yours is to run around saving the galaxy, so put that baby down, and let me do my job."

Obi-Wan looked around for the crib he had originally placed the baby in, and found it occupied by a child the girl had probably brought back with her.

"Here." She pulled the baby from his arms. "Now, go do your job. I'm busy."

"I'm Obi-Wan Kenobi," he said, in a last ditch effort to get her to talk to him.

"You're in my way."

Obi-Wan stepped to the side to let her pass. "Are you going to the picnic later?"

"I've already been. It's my shift to watch the children." "All right. If you want to do anything later--"

"I won't."

"Oh. All right, then." Obi-Wan left the creche, dejectedly. His spirits were perked up by the spicy smell of Master Mace Windu's 'kickass, mo-fo, bitchin' BBQ bantha ribs.'

"Obi-Wan Kenobi!" Obi-Wan spun around, looking for the caller of his name. "You're so tall! I haven't seen you in ages!"

"Jedi Billaba! So good to see you!"

"I haven't seen you since..." Your Knighthood ceremony, Obi-Wan finished, silently. They stared at each other for an awkward moment. "Well, anyway, it's been a while," Depa said, with an apologetic smile. "You must have shot up six inches since I last saw you."

"Ah, yes," Obi-Wan admitted, hating to have his over-active growth hormones commented upon. It had been hell to keep him in robes the past few months, and Qui-Gon had taken to buying his clothes too big, claiming he'd grow into them. Sloppy robes did little to enhance those feelings of dignity and austerity Obi-Wan aspired to.

"Please. You must come dance with me." Depa took his hands and pulled him towards the dance floor. Obi-Wan resisted the seductive smell of the marinated meat waiting for him, and gracefully put his arm around Depa's shoulder. So maybe he was lousy with babies...Obi-Wan Kenobi could dance.

Qui-Gon had drilled him in dozens of steps, droning on and on about balance, rhythm, and grace. Obi-Wan knew he fit in well at parties and could care less what other good it did him.

He whisked Depa gracefully around the room, chatting with her about mutual friends and intergalactic happenings.

"Have you had any of Master Mace's ribs yet?" she asked, sweetly, smiling up at him.

"I'm afraid not," Obi-Wan replied, hoping she had not heard his stomach growl at the mention of food "You're a growing boy! You need to eat!"

"Yes, please, Obi-Wan," a deeper voice interrupted. "Go eat. I'll take care of Depa, here." Qui-Gon flashed a charming smile at his old friend as he cut smoothly between his Padawan and the recently-knighted Jedi.

Obi-Wan shrugged and made a beeline for the food table. He was stopped by Adi Gallia and one of the healers, who was holding a sniffling youngster.

"Obi-Wan Kenobi," Adi Gallia said smoothly. "I knew I'd seen you around here. Could you do me a small favor?"

"Of course, Master Gallia," Obi-Wan said, eyeing the Jedi Masters strong musculature. Nothing was going to make him tell her no.

"One of the small children has taken ill. Could you keep an eye on the group until we find a substitute caregiver?"

I don't know anything about children, Obi-Wan started to say, then thought better of it. "Of course, Master Gallia," he said, instead.

"Excellent. I knew you would not let us down," she said, smiling widely. She gestured toward a corner. "They're right over there. They've already eaten...most of them. Maybe you could play a game with them."

"A game. Of course." Obi-Wan's eyes fastened on the children. There was about a dozen of them, several species, ranging in age from two to six. A game? He made his way over to the children who looked up at him with big, round eyes. "Hello," he greeted them, calmly. "My name is Obi-Wan Kenobi."

"Tenda puked all over the place," one of the children informed him, solomnly.

"Yes...I heard." Obi-Wan glanced over his shoulder, sure he could hear a replacement caregiver coming.

"Are you a Padawan?" The little boy who spoke to him now was a Pard; a furry, feline race.

"Yes, I am," Obi-Wan said. "You're a smart boy. What's your name?"

"My name is Jarin and I'm three years old," the Pard boy announced. "I saw your braid."

"Well, good for you, Jarin."

"I'm bored."

"I'm sleepy."

"I want to play."

"I want to practice with my lightsaber. It's brand-new and--"

"Tenda threw up ALL over everything," the same child reminded him. "They had to take her to the healers."

"We ate yummy ribs! Did you ate them, too?"

"Ah, no," Obi-Wan answered, through his teeth. "Come on, now Let's play a game."

"A game!"

"I wanna play Garduins and Tronkin."

"No! I always have to be the Tronkin."

"Let's play Force Push!"

"No, Bantha Rides!"

"No, Chase the Sash!"

"Jedi and Sith!"

"I have to go to the bathroom."

"I'm hungry...I didn't get to eat."

Obi-Wan looked at the clamoring children helplessly. One thing at a time, he reminded himself. He glanced at the refreshment table and saw Qui-Gon standing near it, holding a glass of punch. "See that big man, right there?" he said to the hungry child, kneeling down to her level.

"The really tall one!"

"That's the one. Go pull on his robes and tell him you're hungry. He's a sucker for tricks like that. Go, now." He gave her a little push in Qui-Gon's direction and turned to the others.

"Now you," he started to address the child who had to use the bathroom, when he felt a thump against his leg. He looked down to see the girl he had sent off wrapped around his knee. "What's the matter?"

"He's big and scary!"

"He's nothing of the sort. He's very friendly. And maybe he can give you a bantha ride. Go smile at him." Obi-Wan used the Force to calm her worry and send her on her way. He waited until she was pulling on Qui-Gon's robes and he turned to look at her before looking at the remaining children.

Turning his back on them had been a big mistake. Two of them were tussling in the corner. Jarin had parts that looked suspiciously like a disassembled lightsaber strewn around. Obi- Wan searched frantically for the crystal that powered the weapon and was relieved to find that there was not one apparent.

One of the children was pulling another's hair. One was painting on the wall with leftover 'kickass mofo bitchin' BBQ sauce.' Obi-Wan used the Force to calm the two tussling, the hair puller, and gently kicked Jarin's pieces into a smaller pile. He scooped up the artist and looked around for the child who needed to use the bathroom. He was standing nearby, his legs crossed tightly.

Wonderful, Obi-Wan thought bitterly, depositing the artist with Jarin, then, thinking better of the combination of lightsaber pieces and sauces, picked him up again. "Come along!" he announced to the lot of them. "We're going to the bathroom."

"I don't hafta go."

"Me either."

"I wanna stay here."

"I'm sorry," Obi-Wan told them, "but you'll all have to come along." His ideas were met with much grumbling and complaints, but eventually, they were all on the road to the bathroom. Upon arrival, he quickly realized that each and every one of them were in dire need of facility usage. And not all of them were as adept as the others at undressing themselves.

One little girl was pulling at his robes. "I can't get my sash untied."

"You don't have to untie it," Obi-Wan informed her. "You just have to--" Wait, he told himself. This was a girl one. Undoubtedly, there was some ritual that did involve untying the robe.

"I need my robe untied, too," a little boy told him. "My pants are tucked into it."

"What? Why?" Obi-Wan stared at the boy in utter disbelief.

"Cause they're too big, and I didn't want them to fall down..."

Though silently, Obi-Wan realized he could commiserate with the problem of oversized clothes, he knew he had never had the desire to pull his pants up high enough to tie his robes over.

"You need to come in with me," one little girl insisted.

"What? I can't do that!" Obi-Wan gasped, eyeing the door, which proudly proclaimed itself the LADIES' ROOM. "I...I'm not allowed in there. It's...it's for little girls. I'm not a little girl."

Still horrified, he started to edge away when he saw the little girl's eyes fill with tears. "But..."

"Oh, no," Obi-Wan sighed, under his breath. He saw one girl, a little older, leaning against the wall. "What's your name?"

"Me? My name's Janna."

"All right, Janna, take the little girls into the bathroom and--"

"But I don't have to go."

"That's fine. I'm not telling you to go, I'm asking you to watch the little girls."

"I don't wanna."

"Please, Janna."

"I have to go NOW!" the littlest girl announced.

"All right, all right." Obi-Wan glanced once more at Janna, who was slouched sullenly against the wall. "All right." He took a deep breath and gathered all his courage. "Let's go." He knocked, gently, then, when he received no answer, pushed the door open, gingerly. "Anyone here?" he called, praying someone would be, and could help him, and praying no one was, so there would be no witnesses to his foray into the LADIES' ROOM. He was relatively successful. He'd gotten the little girl taken care of and was just washing up when the door opened. He froze.

"Obi-Wan Kenobi?"

"Bant?" Obi-Wan looked up to see his oldest friend, Bant, standing. spellbound, in the doorway. Her huge, silver eyes blinked, and she shook her wedge-shaped, coral head.

"Obi-Wan, I hate to break this to you, but...well, unless you've made a few changes, you're in the wrong room."

"It's not my fault," Obi-Wan protested. "She had to go, and she needed help," he explained, looking around for the little girl. "Where'd she go?"

"Who?" "The little girl I was helping." He got down on his hands and knees and started peering under the stall doors. "Where ever could she have gotten to?"

"Obi-Wan..."

"Whee!!!" The door above his head flew open, swinging around the small girl clutching the top. Obi-Wan was on his feet and had the girl in his arms before anyone could utter another sound.

"Have you seen my Padawan?" Qui-Gon Jinn asked, looking around the room.

"You sent him to get food," Depa reminded him.

"Yes, but that was hours ago."

"So it was." Depa brushed her hair out of her face and smiled at him. "Shall we give him a few more hours?"

Obi-Wan and Bant had just herded the children back to the general celebration room when a middle-aged woman appeared, looking bewildered.

"There you are!" she exclaimed. "I'm Jadia. I'm supposed to look after the children."

Obi-Wan breathed a sigh of relief. "They're right here," he said, hurriedly. "Thanks a lot!" He grabbed Bant and made a break for the dance floor.

"That was a quick getaway," Bant observed.

"I haven't eaten a single thing," Obi-Wan announced. "I'm starved."

"You mean you aren't going to dance with me?"

Obi-Wan groaned, silently, weighing his options. He really wanted to get something to eat, but he had not seen Bant in months, and he really had missed her.

"Don't worry about it," Bant said, grinning at him. "I was just messing with you. We'll dance later."

"Dance?" Both Obi-Wan and Bant turned to see the teenage boy behind them.

"Aalto," they intoned, together, without much enthusiasm. Aalto Gwin was handsome, arrogant, and as an initiate, had been the best of friends with Obi-Wan's arch-enemy, Bruck Chun. "I was just about to ask Bant to dance. What do you say, my dear?"

"Well..." Bant looked up at the handsome older boy and flushed a darker coral that made her silver eyes glow. Obi-Wan looked sharply at Bant. Surely she remembered all the fruit thrown in their direction. Surely she remembered how Bruck had plotted to keep Obi-Wan from becoming a Padawan. Surely she was not thinking of dancing with Aalto!

"I'm sure Oafy-Wan doesn't want to worry about tripping over his own feet. Come along, Bant. We'll have fun."

That did it. "She'll do nothing of the sort. Bant's dancing with me." Obi-Wan stepped firmly in front of Aalto, taking Bant's hand and pulling her into the center of the dance floor.

"Wow, you aren't playing stupid Beldarian-type cretin, are you, Obi-Wan?" Bant asked, with a grin. She was not upset in the least, but she knew how Obi-Wan felt about Aalto.

"No!" Obi-Wan protested. "I just knew you wouldn't want a creep like Aalto to touch you, so I thought I'd offer my protective services."

Bant burst out in laughter so long and loud, Obi-Wan looked around, nervously. Surely no one could tell she was laughing at him...could they? Bant had finally calmed down enough to spend several enjoyable songs dancing and talking with Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan was sorry when she excused herself, but only seconds later did he remember how hungry he was and started to make his way to the food table.

"Obi-Wan Kenobi!"

"Master Yoda." Obi-Wan bowed low to the tiny Master. Yoda had always believed in him, even when others had not, and Obi-Wan would never forget that.

"Qui-Gon I see not," Yoda commented, leaning forward on his gimel stick.

"Oh, he's around here...somewhere," Obi-Wan started to say. As he looked around, he saw Yoda was right. Qui-Gon was nowhere in sight. A sinking feeling invaded Obi-Wan's stomach.

"Miss him, we must not. Still sing, do you?"

"Oh, Master Yoda...no. No, Master, please. Remember Jedi Billaba's Knighthood ceremony. I don't think--"

"Wonderful voice you have! So many songs you know! Love music, the children do!"

"Master Yoda...what if Master Qui-Gon returns? Things could get...ugly." Yoda just widened his green eyes at Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan's shoulders slumped. He was doomed. "At the bottom of the sea...The fish swim right by me...The Force is in us all...From serpant's hiss to parrot's call..." Obi-Wan squeezed his eyes closed and discarded yet another song from his extensive repertoire. He hated that one. What to sing, what to sing...

"Mr. Padawan Obi-Wan?" Obi-Wan's eyes flew open, and saw...nothing. He looked down and realized his companion was only three feet tall and quite furry. "Oh. Jarin, right?"

"Right!" Jarin's face lit up as if hit by beams from all three of the moons of Dantooine.

"Great. So...you're here."

"I heard you were going to sing."

Obi-Wan sighed. "Yes, Jarin, I suppose I am."

"Could you sing my favorite?"

"What would that be?"

"Darth Bane and Padawan Kestra."

"Oh, well..." Obi-Wan desperately tried to remember that particular song. And then he did. "Oh, Jarin. Not that one. Please. I--"

"It's my very most favorite. But I understand if you would rather not." Jarin's fuzzy face looked much too solemn for a three-year-old.

"Well...oh, all right."

"Really?" Jarin's face returned to its starstruck status. "Oh, thankyou, thankyou, thankyou!" And with that, he scampered off.

"All right," Obi-Wan muttered. "Let's see..." Half an hour later, he remembered as much of the song as he was going to remember.

"Ready are you?" Yoda asked, peering out the door.

"Yes, Master Yoda."

"Come, you must. Ready they are."

Obi-Wan allowed Yoda to pull him to the center of the room. Yoda had just shushed the room and started to announce him, then froze. "Master Yoda."

"Ah...Qui-Gon...back, you are."

"Yes, Master Yoda." Obi-Wan dared a look at his master. Beneath the stern glare, Obi- Wan thought he detected a hint of a twinkle in his eye.

"Ah, well, much fun we have. Talking with Obi-Wan we were. Later, we will see." Yoda eased his way off through the crowd.

"As I thought." Qui-Gon watched Yoda hobble through the crowd. "Although I did want to hear a lovely duet." He shook his head at the dispersing crowd. "What were you about to get yourself into, my Padawan?"

"Master, I--" From the corner of his eye, Obi-Wan caught sight of a very disappointed Jarin. "Never mind. Have you gotten anything to eat, yet?"

"No, Master I--"

"Well, you'd best hurry! We need to be off, and they'll be cleaning the food up. Let's--"

"I'm sorry, Master, but I promised someone I'd--I just need a minute, Master."

Qui-Gon studied him shrewdly. "Do what you must, Obi-Wan. Be back at the shuttle in fifteen minutes."

"Yes, Master." With a longing glance over to the food table, Obi- Wan turned and went to the corner where the smaller children played. "Jarin," he said, catching the little boy's attention.

"You aren't going to sing, are you?" Jarin asked, sadly.

"I'm not going to sing for everyone," Obi-Wan explained. "But since you wanted to hear 'Darth Bane and Padawan Kestra' I thought maybe we could go in the hall and sing quietly."

"Really?" Jarin's face lit up.

"Let's go." Obi-Wan took his hand and led him to the deserted hallway. "Remember how it starts out?"

"Darth Bane came to the Temple..." Jarin started. "His apprentice'd just been killed,"

Obi-Wan chimed in. "He was in a bind,"

"And of a mind,"

"That a Padawan he would steal."

"He came upon a young girl swinging a lightsaber and wielding it fine,"

"And that devil jumped in front of her and said,"

"Girl, I'll make you mine!"

"I guess you didn't know it, but I'm a swordsman, too,"

"And if you care to make a dare, I'll make a bet with you."

"Now the Force seems to be strong wtih you, but give the Dark Side its due."

"So come with me, or you will see, that I'm much better than you." Together, they sang the long, complicated song of the evil dark lord and the pure-hearted Padawan who dueled long and hard before good finally won out over bad.

"Thank you, Padawan Obi-Wan," Jarin said, when they were finally finished. "That was great."

"I'm glad, Jarin," Obi-Wan replied. "I have to go meet my master, now. May the Force be with you."

"May the Force be with you," Jarin echoed, bowing. Obi-Wan smiled, patted his head, and ran to meet Qui-Gon.

"Where were you?" Qui-Gon asked. "You're late."

"I was singing all 17 verses of 'Darth Bane and Padawan Kestra' for Jarin," Obi-Wan replied, powering up the small vessel. "Do we have a new mission?"

"Yes, we're on our way to Pestra'nol. I'll tell you about it during the trip. Did you ever get anything to eat?"

Obi-Wan felt his stomach rumble at those words and felt a deep and resounding regret for missing Mace Windu's Kickass, Mofo, Bitchin' BBQ bantha ribs. No, he reminded himself. The things I did tonight were much more important than base pleasures like that. "No, Master," he replied, studying the control panels, closely.

"Well, good then. I knew you would need these." Obi-Wan looked up in surprise as Qui-Gon produced a greasy plate of Mace Windu's Kickass, Mofo, Bitchin' BBQ bantha ribs.

"You saved some for me?"

"Dig in, Padawan. I'll fly."

"Is that a good idea, Master?"

"Just eat, Obi-Wan."

"Yes, Master."