Anakin scrutinized the board. He picked up one plastic figure and looked at it for a moment. Slowly, he levitated it out of his hand, enjoying the flow of the Force. Then he noticed Obi-Wan giving him a Look, and grabbing the figure out of the air with his hand, he plunked it back down on the board, exactly where it had started.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan said measuredly. "If you don't wish to make a move, you may concede the game."

"I'm thinkin', okay?" Anakin sniffed, sticking out his lower lip.

Suddenly, he grabbed a different figure off the board, and moved it to a
different spot. "I use the Force to jam the lifts, an' sneak down the
ventilation shaft to the hangar." He smiled triumphantly.

Obi-Wan smoothly rearranged several more pieces without a single
hesitation. "Unfortunately, you forgot your little companion-- what is this
thing?-- the Naboo pilot. I send all my battle droids on Level 7 after him.
Game."

"It's not fair!" Anakin whined. Obi-Wan wasn't surprised-- they'd been going through this simulation for nearly a week, and the inevitable pouting had yet to begin. "I gotta get all my stupid guys off to win, but you just gotta get one o' mine!"

"That's because I already know how to play your side."

"It's stupid! There's no way to win!"

"I think we've had enough for tonight. Time for bed."

Anakin seemed to deflate a little. "Um... Can't we try it one more time?" He started resetting the little plastic figures.

"I don't know... You seem to be getting very worked up about this."

"I'm sorry, Master Obi-Wan. Please, can we play again? I promise to be a better loser this time."

"Perhaps you should concentrate on winning more this time..."

"Yah! Um..."

"Yes, Anakin?"

"Master Obi-Wan... is there an answer? Can I win?"

"I don't know."

"Did you ever win?"

Obi-Wan smiled sadly. "Yes. After a very, very long time."

Anakin contemplated this for a moment, then moved two of his men. "I send my X-Wing pilot and my Artoo unit to sneak into the dungeons and get the prisoner..."

"And I shall send my battle droids to search your ship." But as Obi-Wan carefully arranged the little plastic robots, all he could think about was sitting on the opposite side of the table.

* * *

"New game, Obi-Wan."

"A game, Master?"

"Yes, Obi-Wan. You do know what a game is, don't you?"

"Yes, Master Qui-Gon. But--"

"Go ahead and say it, Obi-Wan."

"Master Yoda said that Jedi training was not to be taken lightly. One must keep his mind and body in perfect condition, primed for battle at--"

"Obi-Wan, did he tell you this as you were sprinting around the Temple with him on your back?"

"Yes, Master."

"Master Yoda enjoys his piggy-back rides. And I enjoy games. He may never play games with you, but I will never make you run around the Temple, carrying me like a baby Toydarian."

Obi-Wan bit his lip, partially in embarrassment, and partially to keep from laughing at the mental image of himself struggling around the Jedi Temple, trying to carry Qui-Gon's six foot five frame.

"It's all right to laugh, Obi-Wan. It was a joke. Now, are you ready to play?"

"Yes, Master."

"Good. I think you'll like this game." He gestured to a large model on the table. "This is the enemy ship. I am the enemy, and I have captured a Calimari senator. You and your six teammates must rescue him, return to your ship and escape. On your turns, you may make any command decision you wish and move your figures appropriately. On my turns, I move my figures to oppose yours. Easy enough?"

"Um, I suppose so, Master. It seems... simple."

"Oh, I forgot the rest of the rules. No bending reality. You can't do anything in the game that you can't do in real life. And the most important rule-- your ship cannot leave without every member of your team. You cannot abandon your teammates, and they will not abandon you. Got it?"

"Yes, Master."

"Go ahead. You get to go first."

"Okay. " He picked up each tiny figure, looked at it, and replaced it on the board. "Which one is me?"

Qui-Gon pointed.  "And what is that one?"

"A Naboo pilot."

"And this one?"

"That is a Wookiee."

"And--"
"You've also got an R2 astromech droid, a Corellian, a bounty hunter, and a Tusken raider."

"What is a Tusken raider?"

"They're from a primitive planet called Tatooine. I read about them in a book somewhere. They always ride in single file to hide their numbers. That's all I remember."

"Oh. Master Qui-Gon?"

"Yes, Obi-Wan?"

"Where are you?"

"I am rolling over in my grave, waiting for you to move."

"Sorry, Master. Um, I would like to send myself and... er, the Corellian, I suppose, as a diplomatic envoy." He picked up the droid and the Wookiee.

Qui-Gon blinked. "Don't bother moving those. I blow up your ship. Let's start again."

Obi-Wan's jaw dropped. "But... that's not fair!"

Qui-Gon sighed. "Perhaps I did not explain the game well enough. You are on a secret mission. Your captors are not supposed to know you are there. You are supposed to sneak the senator out without being seen."

"But wouldn't it be better to send an official envoy? To bargain for the life of the senator peacefully?"

"Obi-Wan?"

"Yes, Master?"

"Who made up the game?"

"You did, sir."

"That's right."

"Oh. I see. In that case, I think I'd like to knock out two of the guards and steal their uniforms."

"Much better, Obi-Wan."

* * *

Anakin blinked sleepily as he fiddled with his pieces. 

"I think it is time for bed, Young Jedi."

"Naw... I'm not sleepy."

"A Jedi must learn to get rest when he can. We can leave the board and finish the game in the morning. After your other chores are done."

"Before the chores."

Obi-Wan raised one eyebrow carefully. Anakin tried to imitate the gesture, and resulting in looking rather silly. Obi-Wan smiled in spite of
himself.

"Well argued, Ani. Before chores. Now off to bed."

"But you said before the chores!"

"Did I? Hmm... The banthas will be getting hungry if we don't feed them..."

"Obi-Wan, we don't have any banthas! Stop being silly!"

"Well, I suppose, if I promised..."

"Yippee!" He plopped down in his seat, and picked up two of the pieces. "I thought about this all last night. I tell the Corellian and the Wookiee and the senator to escape down the laundry chute."

"I don't see a laundry chute."

"Well, it looks like there could be one."

"Very well. I turn on all the laundry depositories."

"Oh. I didn't think of that."

"I'm sure." He contemplated the boy for a moment. "Your hair wants cutting."

"Aw, Obi-Wan!" He looked at the board. "I have my droid communicate with the ship and turn off the laundry depositories."

"You are a Padawan, now, Anakin. You must look respectable--no more running about the city looking like a Rodian after a dustbath. And I detect a droid interfering with ship operations, and send out a backlash charge."

"You aren't going to cut it, again, are you? I patch my droid back together."

"I send an team to investigate the port your droid has just been using. And what is wrong with the way I cut your hair?"

"Me an' my droid go to up to level 7. An' you always make it so... goofy lookin'."

"Goofy? When you are a Jedi, you may wear your hair like a Wookiee, for all I care, but for now, you will keep the traditional Padawan haircut, and you will like it. And the team, which I just sent from level 5, runs into you and your little friend on your way to level 7."

"I use a mind trick on them, and convince them I'm an officer on the ship." He thought for a moment, then a smug grin crept over his features.   "I don't need a haircut," he said, waving his hand slightly. "I look just fine."

"Anakin. What did I tell you about using mind tricks on other Jedi?"

"Um... I forget."

"It doesn't work."

"Oh. Right. Forget I said anything."

Obi-Wan sighed. It was going to be a long day.

* * *

"Okay, just a little... oops. Sorry about that, Obi-Wan."

"It's all right, Master."

"You haven't seen what I've done yet. Who decided you Padawans all needed the same bloody haircut, anyway?"

"Master Yoda. He said that--"

"I know what he said. Well, that's as close as it's getting. If it were up to me, you'd never get a haircut."

Obi-Wan regarded his master's shoulder-length mane, and realized he wasn't kidding. He walked over to the mirror, and ran a hand through his newly-chopped hair. "Um, Master, you missed a spot." He held up a chunk a few inches longer than the rest.

"You ought to leave that, Obi-Wan. It'll give you a little character."

"But Master Yoda--"

"If Master Yoda says one word to me about your hair, the next trim you get will be with my lightsaber."

"Er... all right, Master."

"You ready to give the game another shot?"

"I... suppose. Master? Am I doing any better?"

Qui-Gon's face twisted a little. "You aren't doing worse."

"Ah. Thank you, Master."

"No problem, Obi-Wan."

* * *

"Dear Amidala,
I know I could send you a holo-message real easy, but Master Obi-Wan says that sometimes writing helps clear your head and help you think better.

How are you doing? I am fine. You must be awful busy being the queen of Naboo. Have you seen Jar-Jar? I wish I was there with you. Obi-Wan is very nice, and he is teaching me how to be a good Jedi.  He is helping me make a lightsaber. Mine is blue. He says that when I am done, he will teach me how to fight. I am learning lots about the force. I can move things, and I can run faster now. I am learning a few mind tricks,   too, but they don't work so good, yet. I've been having some scary dreams, but Obi-Wan says they are normal. He is a good master, but sometimes he is hard to talk to. Sometimes he is fun, but a lot of the time, he is pretty boring.

I have a lot of chores here. Obi-Wan cooks, but I have to do the dishes. He's not a very good cook. When I finish writing this letter, we are going into town. I am very excited. Going to town is fun, but Obi-Wan never wants to go. Sometimes we see ships in port. I wish you could be here, too, but I know you have a big, important job. When I am a Jedi, and can visit anyplace in the galaxy, Naboo will be the first place I visit. I will write to you later.

Your friend,
Anakin Skywalker

"Done?" Obi-Wan asked, as Anakin folded up his letter.

"Yup."

"Did you write to your mother again?"

"Nope. I wrote to Amidala."

"She is very busy. She may not have time to look at your letter."

"I know. That's okay."

Obi-Wan frowned, seeing the boy's downcast face. "You should write your name very large on the envelope. When she sees it's from you, she'll be sure to read it."

"Good idea, Obi-Wan!"

Obi-Wan smiled slightly. Old-fashioned paper mail was difficult to deliver across the galaxy, but he felt it did the boy some good to write.  Mostly, he wrote to his mother, but he had also written a letter to another friend on Tatooine, and one to someone named Ric Olie on Naboo. Obi-Wan glanced down at his own letter-- one of many letters he would never mail. He kept writing them, though.

Qui-Gon,
The boy is doing well. He is quick to pick up the physical parts of the training. His telekinesis is progressing rapidly, and I believe he is developing some Foresight. Emotionally, though, I fear he is too eager. He looks for quick solutions to problems-- always the easy way before the difficult. I suppose this is the way of most Padawans.

I miss your counsel, Master. I am trying my best, but I sometimes wonder if I am cut out to be a teacher. I am not good with children, Master. I just hope Anakin will be as patient with me as I try to be with him. May the Force be with you.
Obi-Wan

"Ready!"

"Just a moment." Obi-Wan tucked his letter in with the others.  He'd written about twenty since bringing Anakin to Malastare to train the boy. It was a quiet planet, and a good place to train. Besides, it had Podracing-- something Anakin wasn't about to go without, even if he was only allowed to watch from the stands. While Obi-Wan was sure Master Yoda would have let them stay at the Temple, he didn't feel right about it. Padawans were far and few between, but they all knew one another, and had an almost brother-like bond. Anakin, branded both as a late start and as the subject of prophecy, would probably be shunned. So Malastare it was.

"I wanna drive this time!"

"Excuse me?"

"You always get to drive!"

"That is because I am the Jedi and you are the Padawan." Actually, it was because Anakin seemed to regard every vehicle as a Podracer and drive it as such.

"But if you didn't get to drive 'til you were a Jedi, how'd you know how?"

"I just said that I got to choose who drove. Qui-Gon did not like to drive, so I ended up doing it most of the time."

Anakin, predictably, pouted. "I wish Qui-Gon were my Master."

Obi-Wan blinked slowly. "I wish he were your Master, too." It was said quietly, tinged more with regret than anger.

Anakin looked up, and realized what he had said. "I'm sorry, Ob-- Master Obi-Wan. I didn't mean--"

"It's all right, Ani. Let's go to town. Perhaps if you behave yourself, you can drive the landspeeder on the way home."

"Thank you, Master."

* * *

There... were... so... many... people...

"Marketplace is a little busy today."

People... everywhere...

"I wonder if K'yesh has a good price on t'nar'gak today."

Noisy... people...

"Obi-Wan?"

Many... noisy... people...

"Obi-Wan!"

"Yes, Master?" Obi-Wan answered meekly.

"Obi-Wan, you can let go of my robe now."

Obi-Wan looked down, and sure enough, he was clutching the edge of Qui-Gon's coarse robe like some sort of life preserver. Of course, realization didn't mean he was ready to let go.

"Obi-Wan, what is the matter with you?" Suddenly Qui-Gon's eyes widened in realization. "You've never been to the Marketplace before, have you?"

"No, Master."

"You've never been outside of the Temple before, have you?"

"No, Master."

"Damn Yoda, and his bloody isolationist crap," Qui-Gon mumbled. He tried to put on a cheery face for Obi-Wan's benefit. "Well, aren't you excited to be here?"

"Not really, Master."

This certainly wasn't going well. Qui-Gon knelt down next to his young apprentice. "Obi-Wan Kenobi. You are a Jedi Padawan, and a damn fine one. You could take down every person in this Marketplace without breaking a sweat. What on Coruscant are you afraid of?"

"I'm not afraid!" Obi-Wan protested. "Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hatred. Hatred leads to suffering." Normally, Qui-Gon hated when the boy parroted Yoda's favorite maxims, but if it would bring him out of his cocoon, he'd let the kid chant Dug mating rituals.

"Good spirit, lad."

"Um, Master, why are we here?"

"For fun, Obi-Wan."

"For fun, Master?"

"I enjoy the Marketplace."

"We can't just pick something up and leave?"

"That would sort of defeat the purpose of going to the Marketplace for the sake of visiting the Marketplace."

"I suppose it would, Master."

"So, are you ready to have fun?"

Obi-Wan sighed like a man about to step into a vault full of Rancors. "Yes, Master."

"Could you possibly show just a little enthusiasm, Obi-Wan?"

"Yes, Master!" Obi-Wan replied, grinning painfully.

"Stop that. It looks like someone shoved a blaster up your--"

"Master Qui-Gon!"

"Have you ever eaten hgukh-lioth?"

"I cannot even pronounce it, Master."

"I thought so. Yoda can't stand the stuff. Come on, you'll love it."

"But Master, it's almost time for lunch, and--"

"Boy, who's the Jedi Master, here? If I want you to ruin your appetite, you do it, okay?"

"Yes, sir."

Qui-Gon pulled his apprentice through the crowd, then stopped at a distinctly furry-looking food vendor, and they began to rapidly converse in some language with too many consonants for Obi-Wan's taste. After a minute or two, Qui-Gon thrust a little paper cup full of something brown at him. Obi-Wan stared at it for a moment.

"Eat up, boy," Qui-Gon said, chewing on his own mouthful of hgukh-lioth.

"Could I have a fork, or--"

Qui-Gon and the vendor stared at him.

Obi-Wan swallowed, and fished a lump of something solid out of the cup, and put it in his mouth. He closed his eyes and chewed slowly.

"Well?"

Obi-Wan's face broke into a grin. "It's good."

Qui-Gon felt a relieved grin of his own come over his face. "I knew you'd like it." He ruffled the boy's hair.

The hairy vendor rumbled something to him that Obi-Wan couldn't understand.

"Me? I didn't do anything to his hair. It was a, er, lightsaber accident. You know how Padawans are. Damn kids."

The vendor chuckled. Obi-Wan didn't really care. He was too busy making a mess out of himself and the hgukh-lioth.

"Hiya, Jakh. P'wadeshka, L'mchek. Hi, Dyala."

The boy knows every bum, spacer, merchant and smuggler in this port, Obi-Wan thought to himself. He almost envied Ani's easygoing attitude, and the way he had no problems socializing with others. Though the days of his first Marketplace fears were long gone, Obi-Wan was still more comfortable in solitude or small groups. Crowds made him want to whip out his lightsaber and start hacking.

"Can I have some new power converters, Obi-Wan? Please, please, please?"

"What happened to the last power converters I bought you?"

"I used 'em."

"What are you doing, building a Podracer in the shed?"

"No..."

"Well?"

"I was trying to... fix up the landspeeder."

"Mm-hmm?"

"It has a lot more pickup now, did you notice?"

"I did."

"See?"

"You were trying to convert it into a Podracer, weren't you?"

"Ooh, look, Obi-Wan! Hgukh-lioth! Have you ever had it? It's really yummy!"

"You'll ruin your supper, Anakin," Obi-Wan said with a slight smile.

"I got an idea! Let's have dinner in town!"

Obi-Wan grimaced. He hated cooking, but felt compelled to. A break would be nice. But still... "But it's keth patty night, Ani. Your favorite."

"No, they're your favorite. An' we can have 'em tomorrow night."

"You don't like keth patties? I thought for sure..." I certainly don't like keth patties, Obi-Wan thought to himself.

"Nope. Not your keth patties."

"Excuse me?"

"Nuthin'."

"Anakin."

"Hey, it's not my fault your keth patties taste like Bantha dung."

"Anakin!" This time, Obi-Wan's voice was sharp and angry.

Anakin's head snapped up. He bit his lip for a moment. "I'm sorry, Master Obi-Wan."

"You will not address me in such a manner in the future. We are going home."

"Master Obi-Wan, I'm sorry!"

"Come along, Padawan. We are leaving."

The ride home was completely silent. The minute they were home, Anakin retreated to his room.

Obi-Wan stomped back and forth around the kitchen, randomly slamming cupboard doors. The boy was so... frustrating. He'd never been so smart-mouthed. He'd never been so difficult. 

He contemplated the uncooked keth patties. He certainly didn't feel like cooking them, especially considering the revelation that neither one of them liked the jerky-like slabs of meat. He threw them away and rummaged around the supplies for something slightly more edible, without disrupting the rest of the week's dinner schedule. The best he could come up with was some canned buundo soup. It wasn't much, but he wasn't feeling particularly hungry, and Anakin probably wouldn't want much to eat in his current state of pouting.

"Anakin, it's dinnertime."

Slowly, Anakin emerged from his room, and trudged over to the table. Obi-Wan put a bowl of soup in front of him. As an afterthought, he plunked down the container of pahku spice. Anakin was going through a phase where he liked the stuff on just about anything. 

Anakin looked down at his meal, surprised. "No keth patties?"

"The keth patties ended up in the trash," Obi-Wan admitted.

"Good," Anakin sniffed, trying to sound noncommittal, and ending up sounding a little sniffly. He shook some pahku into his soup.

Obi-Wan took a few spoonfuls of his soup. He heard a few sniffles from the other end of the table, and looked up. Surely, the boy wasn't... crying?

Anakin caught Obi-Wan looking at him. "I said I was sorry, okay!"

Obi-Wan blinking in surprise. He wasn't quite sure how to respond.

"I know you don't like me, an' you only keep me around 'cause you promised Qui-Gon."

"Anakin."

"But I promised Mom I'd be a Jedi an' come back an' save her, an'--

"Anakin."

"An' I'm sorry I'm such a rotten Padawan!"

"Anakin!"

Anakin finally looked up with bleary eyes. "Huh?"

"Why would you think I hate you?"

"'Spretty obvious. Y'never wanna talk about anything but Jedi stuff. An' you never wanna go to town 'cause you're embarrassed of me. An' you're mean!"

"I'm... mean?"

"Yeah. Like when you told me Amidala wouldn't want my letter. Or when you told me you didn't want me as your Padawan. Or when you make me eat your yucky cooking all the time. You think I put pahku on everything 'cause I like it?"

"My cooking? Of all things to complain about... my cooking?   Anakin, do you think I would cook the way I do if I had the culinary skills of... of anyone? I make you eat my food because you'd starve to death if you didn't."

"Thanks. I appreciate it."

"Anakin, I... I am in a very difficult situation right now."

"Yeah. You're stuck with me."

"Anakin. I took on a Padawan days after completing my own Trials. Do you know how rare that is?"

"No."

"It's pretty rare. Secondly, nearly all Jedi Masters train their Padawans at the Temple-- there they have plenty of help if they need it.  For our particular situation, that was not an option. "Third... Anakin, I am not good with children. And you are a child. When I said Amidala would be too busy to read your letter, that is exactly what I meant. She has many duties to oversee, and I did not want you to become too disappointed if she did not reply. It was the remark I would have made to an adult. You are not an adult. I forgot that. And as for me being embarrassed of you... I have never liked the Marketplace. I don't like crowds, I don't like chaos. I would not go town whether you were here or not. Finally, when I said I wished Qui-Gon was your master, I meant it. He was ten times the Jedi I will ever be, and you would have loved him. I am doing my best, but I don't know if it will ever really be enough. Do you understand?"

"I guess. So, you really don't hate me?"

"Of course not. You are the best Padawan I've ever had."

"Shyeah, right, Obi-Wan. I'm the only Padawan you've ever had."

"That doesn't mean you're not my favorite."

* * *

"New Padawan, Qui-Gon?"

"Fine lad he is, too. Rescued the poor thing from Yoda just last week."

"Looks like a sturdy little thing. A lot better than that last Padawan of yours."

Up until this point, Obi-Wan had only been half-listening as his master chatted with the textile merchant. But at the mention of a previous Padawan, his ears perked up.

"What last Padawan?" he inquired.

"It's none of your concern, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said, scowling.

"You just had to bring that up, didn't you Ja'arth?"

The merchant shrugged.

"Did I know him?" Obi-Wan persisted. He knew most of the other Padawans, but he didn't remember Qui-Gon having a Padawan before
him.

"No, it was years ago. Don't worry about it, Obi-Wan. And..."

He gestured to his mouth.

Obi-Wan contemplated the gesture for a moment, then realized he had hgukh-lioth sauce all over his face. Stricken for a moment, he wasn't sure what to do. Finally, he wiped his sticky face on the sleeve of his robe.

Qui-Gon stared at the whole procedure, but didn't say anything.

"I didn't even know...those things could use the Force. What was he, anyway?"

"Could you just drop it, Ja'arth?"

Suddenly, there was a loud commotion from across the Marketplace. Qui-Gon furrowed his brow. "Stay here, Obi-Wan. I'll be right back." He pushed through the crowd.

Obi-Wan glanced around, confused. He didn't want to lose Qui-Gon in the crowd, so he started to follow after him. By squirming around several sets of legs, psuodopods and tentacles, Obi-Wan eventually got a good view.

A huge Truffin fruit merchant stood behind what had once been a neat and orderly stand. One of the supports had been splintered and fruit lay scattered across the road. The Truffin held a small human boy in one massive claw, dangling him several feet in the air. Qui-Gon stood in front of the both of them.

The Truffin snorted out a few sentences in his odd dialect.

"It was an accident! Lemme go, you big dummy!" the boy screamed. He was a few years younger than Obi-Wan, and looked like one of the street urchins that seemed to populate the Marketplaces of Coruscant.

"Tell me what happened," Qui-Gon said slowly. Obi-Wan could feel his Master using the Force to help soothe the two. The Truffin snorted out something else. "The boy ran into your stand, and broke it?"

"An' now the big ape's tryin' t'kill me!" the boy broke in.

"This is an unfortunate accident," Qui-Gon said quietly, as he managed to set up the support again. It had splintered a bit, but was still solid enough to hold up the stand. "There. Good as new."

The Truffin grunted something, and gestured to the scattered fruit.

"Perhaps I can help out a bit," Qui-Gon said, offering a handful of credits. The Truffin looked mollified, and set the boy down. The boy rubbed his neck, and glared at the larger creature.

"Didn't have to squeeze me so hard..." he muttered.

"You look a little hungry, boy. Want some?" Qui-Gon said, picking up one of the fallen fruits. "It's a little dusty, but..."

The boy grabbed it. He glanced over at the glaring Truffin, then back at Qui-Gon. "Uh, thanks Mister. Thanks a lot." Then he ran off, a few of his friends gathering around to see his new acquisition. Qui-Gon smiled slightly, as the watching crowd began to disperse. Soon, only he and Obi-Wan remained in front of the fruit vendor's stand.

"Didn't I tell you to stay put?"

"Um..."

"Never mind. It doesn't matter. I think we've had enough excitement for the day. Ready to go home?"

"Yes, Master!"


That evening, Obi-Wan found himself contemplating the game board once again. Somehow, though, he couldn't concentrate on it.

"Master?"

"Yes, Obi-Wan?"

"Why did you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Pay for the fruit. Today in the Marketplace. You didn't knock it down."

"It was an unfortunate incident. No one was at fault, but the Truffin would have lost money and the boy would have been hurt. Better that I make a small sacrifice so that both could prosper, no?"

"I... didn't think about it that way."

Qui-Gon smiled at his young apprentice. "There is more to being a Jedi than swinging a lightsaber and using the Force. A Jedi must protect justice and peace in the Marketplace as well as in the galaxy.

Sometimes a Jedi has to make little sacrifices for the sake of his companions. You see?"

Obi-Wan contemplated it for a moment. "Yes, Master. I think I do." He turned his attention back to the game. But Qui-Gon's last words rung in his mind. "Sometimes a Jedi has to make little sacrifices for the sake of his companions." Obi-Wan carefully picked up a piece and announced his move.

Qui-Gon smiled.

* * *

"Is the soup really that bad?"

"Naw. It's not that bad. But the keth patties? They were that bad."

Obi-Wan nodded slowly. "You know, Anakin, until you became my Padawan, I had not cooked for myself since I was twelve years old."

"You didn't need to start on my account..."

Obi-Wan ignored that. "Qui-Gon loved to cook. He was an excellent cook, as well. I hate cooking. Master Yoda used to make me cook all the time."

"Master Yoda eats?"

"Porridge. Three meals a day. 'Hearty it is, make you strong it will,' " he croaked out in a reasonably good imitation of Yoda's normal wheeze.

Anakin giggled.

"The old bat probably heard that half a galaxy away," Obi-Wan sighed.

"Maybe if you liked to cook like Master Qui-Gon, you'd be better at it."

"Perhaps. But every time I cook, I keep expecting Master Yoda to hit me with his stick for trying to experiment with his tried-and-true porridge recipe."

"Maybe... I could cook once in a while..."

"Do you know how to cook?"

"Sure. Mom used to let me chop vegetables all the time."

"Ahh..."

"Obi-Wan?"

"Yes, Anakin?"

"If you hadn't promised Qui-Gon to take care of me, where would you be? Right now, I mean?"

"Well... usually fledgling Jedi travel a lot... solving disputes... assisting people who need help... "

"Sounds kinda dull."

"Having adventures... visiting new systems... meeting women who find the Force incredibly--"

"Obi-Wan!"

"What?"

"You were getting... weird."

"I'm sorry. Sometimes I wish I could be doing those things right now."

"But you're stuck here with me."

"Anakin, would you rather be Podracing or helping your mother at home?" 

"Podracing, o' course."

"But if your mother needed you, which would you do?"

"I'd help her. She's my mom. She needs me."

"And right now, you need me. And so I'm glad to help you, here."

"Oh. But wouldn't you be... gladder... explorin' the galaxy and stuff?"

"No. Sometimes a Jedi has to make sacrifices. Besides, I didn't just promise Qui-Gon I'd take care of you-- I made a promise to you, too."

"I wouldn't have held ya to it."

"But I would have. A Jedi's word is his bond. Always."

"Oh."

"Besides, spending time with you is always... an adventure. Before I met you, I had never seen a Podrace. Or eaten... whatever that is that everyone eats at Podraces."

"Garduin-on-a-stick?"

"That would be it. And I have never felt so lucky as the first time I stepped out of a landspeeder that you were driving. You are constantly making me do things I don't want to-- and occasionally, good comes of it."

"But you never want to try anything new. You won't even try hgekh-lioth, an' it really tastes good."

Obi-Wan smiled. "Anakin, I have eaten more hgekh-lioth in my lifetime that you could possibly imagine. And never have I managed to not make a total mess of myself eating it."

Anakin returned the smile. "Me, too," he said quietly.


"Okay, now I wanna sabotage the tractor beam controls."

"I send my best fighter and a team of battledroids to go intercept you."

"We fight."

"My droids observe."

"While we're fighting, the rest of my team gets back to the ship."

"We fight on."

Anakin wrinkled his brow. Obi-Wan hadn't really made an offensive move.

He seemed to have most of the enemy troops engaged, it seemed like his ship should be free to go. "My ship takes off."

"I'm sorry, Anakin. That's against the rules."

"But I want them to leave me."

"They are your friends. They will not desert you."

"Obi-Wan, you said that sometimes, Jedi have to make sacrifices. Why can't I make them leave me?"

"I said that? Hmm."

"Fine. I defeat your champion."

"My contingent of battledroids captures you and your ship. Game over."

"Wait-- Obi-Wan, why didn't they take the ship beforehand?"

"They were watching the battle. They were programmed to take care of you when my champion failed."

Anakin bit his lip. He was almost there. He could feel it. He'd been so close-- if the ship could only take off without him... But they'd never desert him. Never... desert...

"Obi-Wan, can we back up a few moves?"

"If you'd like."

"I want to go back to the part after we start fighting."

"All right."

Anakin bit his lip. "As I see the rest of my team running for the ship... I turn off my lightsaber."

"I kill you."

"My friends are angry, but there is nothing they can do. They take off while your troops are distracted."

"Congratulations, Anakin. You won."

Anakin looked at the tiny fallen figure representing himself. "I thought winning would feel better."

"It often doesn't."

"Yeah."

"But in the end, sacrifices are usually worth it."

"Even if you're dead?"

"Even if."

"Master Obi-Wan?"

"Yes, Padawan Anakin?"

"Thanks... for making a sacrifice for me."

"Ani, I told you. It was worth it."