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“Y’know what I think?” slurred Anakin as he leaned against the wall of the hotel corridor. “I think we really gained their trust.”
“I don’t know,” said Obi-Wan, weaving his way down the hall on unsteady feet. “That big blue one kept giving us the stink eye… with his third eye anyway.”
“But we totally held our own. I mean they said that whiskey was gonna be too much for us, but look we’re fine,” Anakin said as he slumped onto the floor.
“Come on, Anakin, get up,” Obi-Wan reached down to help Anakin stand, but instead toppled over and landed on top of him.
“Master, you’re smushing me,” complained Anakin.
“Well, if you weren’t lying in the middle of the hallway, maybe people wouldn’t trip over you.”
Obi-Wan clumsily scrambled off Anakin and continued to crawl down the hallway. Anakin pushed himself to his hands and knees and followed suit.
“Why are we crawling?”
“Because it’s easier than getting back up,” said Obi-Wan as if it were the most obvious thing in the galaxy. He slapped his hand against the wall beside him. “Didn’t there used to be a door here?”
“I think it’s over here,” Anakin said, crawling over to the opposite side of the hallway, where there was indeed a door. “But how do we open it?”
“I know we have a key card somewhere…” Obi-Wan began to pat himself down, searching in the pockets of his robes.
“Or we could just use this,” Anakin said, unclipping his lightsaber from his belt.
“Nononono…” Obi-Wan scrambled over to Anakin and took the weapon from him. “They don’t like it when you slice through the doors. We’re gonna get charged and then have to explain it to the Council.”
“Okay, Master.” Anakin said, letting his head fall onto the floor. “You know what? Thisssis good. I’m just gonna sleep here.”
“I have the key, Anakin. Jus’ gimee a second.” Obi-Wan continued his search, turning out his pockets. Republic credits tumbled out into the hallway, coins rolling everywhere.
“You’re rich, Obi-Wan,” mumbled Anakin. “Lookit all the money.” He picked up a coin and held it aloft, then promptly dropped it onto his forehead. “Ow.”
“Okay I got it,” Obi-Wan said, finally producing a key card. He used his hands to climb his way up the door and held the card to the control pad. The door whooshed open and Obi-Wan immediately fell inside, crashing to the floor with a thud.
“I knew you could do it, Master.” Anakin crawled in over Obi-Wan’s prone form. “You’re so smart.”
“I am smart,” Obi-Wan mumbled into the floor. “I’m the Negotiator!”
“That was clever how you got us out of that situation with the Twi’lek girls,” Anakin said as he hoisted himself up onto one of the beds.
“I hope you didn’t mind the implication that we’re in a relationship. It just seemed the nicest way to let them down easily.” Obi-Wan crawled his way to the other bed, but ran out of steam as he reached it and opted to remain on the floor, leaning his head against the mattress.
“No thass fine,” Anakin said, waving an arm dismissively. “I mean, they definitely bought it but isss funny because you’re not really my type though.”
“Oh really?” Obi-Wan picked up his head and scowled. “And what is it about me that is not your type, Anakin?”
“Well for one you’re very controlling. My whole life you’ve been telling me what to do.”
“Maybe because you were my padawan .” Obi-Wan choked out a laugh as he finally managed to hoist himself up on the bed and flop himself face down. “Anyway, you never listened to me so why does it matter?”
“Well, the point is we didn’t go with the Twi’lek girls and you’re not my type but do you know what planet we’re very very close to right now?”
“Garos? I hear they’re building a lovely university there.”
“Nooooo, Master. Not Garos. You know what I’m talking about. Don’t you maybe want to stop by Mandalore while we’re out here?”
“I have no idea what you’re referring to, Anakin. I have no business on Mandalore,” Obi-Wan said as he rolled onto his back.
“I think you have a freiiiiiend there,” Anakin sing-songed.
“Anakin, please stop talking.”
“Master, look, I know you don’t think I understand, but, believe me , I understand.”
“And I understand that you understand.”
“No but like I really understand.”
“Anakin, I am begging you to shut up. Please. You’re only going to regret this tomorrow.”
“Fiiiine. All I’m saying is why don’t you just give her a comm and see what she’s up to? Maybe she’d be up for a little rendez-vous tomorrow. Which is totally fine. I can handle these clowns in the negotiations. I know I got a tiny bit hot-headed with the long neck dude earlier, but I swear I’m good. I’ll actually even meditate first if you want me to. So what do you say, Master?” There was only silence from the other bed. “Obi-Wan?” A soft snore was his only response.
Anakin shook his head and laughed. “What a kriffing lightweight.” He rolled off the bed and lurched his way over to where Obi-Wan had passed out. “But I’m gonna do you a solid and comm her for you…”
Anakin reached into the pocket of Obi-Wan’s robe and found what he was looking for. He sat down heavily on the bed, leaning back against his former master, who only groaned and rolled to his side.
“Okay, let’s see… is it under the S’s or the K’s?…” Anakin said as he scrolled through Obi-Wan’s comm. “Hmm. Neither.” Anakin thought for a second and then smirked. “Oh, Obi-Wan. Do you think I don’t speak any Mando’a?” Anakin clucked his tongue as he scrolled upwards. “C…Y…A… there it is! Master, you’re such a dork.”
Anakin leaned back against the pillows and propped his legs up on Obi-Wan’s hip. “Now what should we say?” Anakin raised an eyebrow and lowered his voice an octave. “How’s my duchess with the velvet touches?” He shook his head. “Nah. He’d never come up with something that good. I’m just gonna go with “‘sup?’” Anakin started to type but found his fingers to not be quite as nimble as they had been before several bottles of whiskey. “What? Soup? No! Kriffing autocorrect.” Anakin angrily tapped on the comm and was about to try again when suddenly he heard a disembodied female voice speaking to him.
“Hello? Obi?”
Anakin panicked and looked down at the comm. “Uh…. Satine?”
“Who is this?” the Duchess asked in a clipped tone.
“This is Master Obi-Wan Kenobi,” Anakin said in his best imitation of his former master’s Coruscanti accent.
“Anakin? Are you drunk?”
“Um, hey Duchess. Yeah, I mean sort of. I mean we had some of this home-brewed whiskey–”
“Are you on Karthon?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Anakin, you need to have some water and go to bed.”
“Wow, you sound just like Obi-Wan. No wonder you two like each other so much.”
“Excuse me?”
“Listen, Satine - can I call you Satine?”
“No.”
“So, Satine, I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but like that whole Jedi attachment thing? It’s more like a suggestion really.”
“Anakin–”
“Just hear me out. Like they need to tell you it’s not good because, you know, it like supposedly messes with your priorities or whatever, but there’s a rumor that this dude on the Council has like seven wives.”
“Anakin, where is Obi-Wan right now?”
“The whiskey kinda made him tired,” Anakin said, picking up one of Obi-Wan’s arms and watching it flop back onto the bed. “But I knew he wanted to comm you.”
“Oh he did, did he? Is that what he told you?”
“I mean not with like words or anything, but we’re Jedi so I can tell what he’s thinking.”
“And what was it that he was thinking exactly?”
“Just that, you know, he misses you and we’re Jedi so we don’t really get that much of a chance to spend time with… the people that we like. Even the ones that maybe live close by, like near the Temple, which obviously you don’t so I don’t know why I’m even saying that…” Anakin trailed off.
“Maybe there’s someone else you’d rather be comming right now?” Satine suggested.
“Yeah maybe. But, you know, people are busy because the kriffing galaxy is on fire so there’s like all night senatorial sessions and stuff. I’m just like giving this as an example of something that’s happening because of all the political unrest. Not that it personally affects me or anything.”
“I understand,” Satine said, her voice softening. “It’s a hard time for everyone.”
Anakin sighed and held the comm close to his head. “Do you ever just feel like, I don’t know, like life is just this big black hole that you’re being slowly pulled towards? Like nothing you do really changes anything and you’re just going to end up sucked into darkness?” Anakin’s voice broke at this last word and he put his hands over his eyes, as if trying to manually push back the tears that threatened.
“Anakin, are you going to be okay? Do you want to wake Obi-Wan up?”
“No, he’s really tired and he gets mad at me when I wake him up for stupid stuff,” Anakin whined, sounding more like a nine-year-old padawan than a general in the Grand Army of the Republic.
“Why don’t you get some sleep too? Do you think you can do that?”
“I don’t know,” huffed Anakin, picking at the back of Obi-Wan’s sock.
“Do you want me to sing you a lullaby?” Satine offered. “There’s one that always used to help my nephew fall asleep…”
“Okay,” said Anakin, pushing himself down so that he was lying with the comm pressed between his ear and the pillow. He pulled Obi-Wan’s leg to him and snuggled against it.
Satine began to sing softly in Mando’a, her lilting voice echoing in the stillness of the room.
“I know this one,” mumbled Anakin. “M’master used to sing it to me sometimes when I was sick.”
Satine’s voice stopped suddenly and there was only the crackle of the comm.
“Keep going,” pleaded Anakin “I like the part where the ad’ika falls out of the buycika but gets caught by the jai’galaar. ”
Satine cleared her throat and began again, her voice wavering slightly, but gaining strength as she eventually got to the chorus that Anakin had referenced. She sang it twice through before whispering “Anakin?” There was a moment of silence before the connection ended, leaving only the dull buzz of the still-active comm, which went unnoticed by the two slumbering men.
—--------------------------------
“ANAKIN!”
Anakin startled awake, unsure at first where he was. He instinctively reached for his lightsaber as his eyes adjusted to the blurry form looming over him, which, as it came into focus, he recognized as the figure of his very grumpy former master.
“I have some questions for you,” Obi-Wan said, crossing his arms over his chest.
Anakin groaned and leaned back onto the pillows. “Not now, Master. I don’t feel so hot.”
“I would like to know,” Obi-Wan continued undaunted, “why I woke up with your foot in my face and more importantly,” Obi-Wan now held up his comm, which he had wrested from beneath Anakin’s head, “why there is a six hour call to Satine in my comm log!”
“Obi-Wan, I can explain,” Anakin began, but stopped as he felt an uncomfortable feeling in his gut. “Oh Sith hells–” Anakin jumped up from the bed, but it was too late. No sooner had his feet hit the floor than he leaned over and vomited onto Obi-Wan’s boots.
“Are you kidding me, Anakin?! I just had these custom made three weeks ago!” Obi-Wan looked down at his most prized footwear, now swimming in the contents of Anakin’s stomach. “Oh no…” Obi-Wan put one hand over his stomach and the other over his mouth.
“Master, are you alr–” Anakin was stopped mid-sentence as Obi-Wan leaned forward and vomited down the front of Anakin’s tunic.
The two men stood and looked at each other for a moment, taking in the gruesome scene. Finally, Obi-Wan broke the silence: “Let’s leave this off the mission report, shall we?”
“Yeah, I think that’s a good idea,” Anakin said as he made his way gingerly to the ‘fresher, leaving Obi-Wan standing in a puddle of vomit.
—---------------------------
“I’m just going to run in and give her these,” Obi-Wan said, holding up the box of Valmorian chocolates he’d procured at the spaceport.
“Whatever, Obi-Wan, you do what you need to do,” Anakin said with a wink.
Obi-Wan summoned his haughtiest look as he explained: “I am going to meet with the Duchess to apologize to her for the drunken antics of my former padawan and present her with a diplomatic gift.”
“Uh-huh. Hope she enjoys the ‘ gift .’”
“Anakin!! I swear I will take you back to Tatooine and throw you into the mouth of a Sarlaac!”
“Okay. But have some fun first, old man.” Anakin gently pushed Obi-Wan out the cockpit door with a dismissive wave.
Obi-Wan gave an annoyed huff before turning and heading down the gangplank, cloak flowing dramatically behind him. Anakin chuckled as he sat back in the pilot’s seat and put his feet up on the controls. He pulled out his comm and scrolled to the P’s, then selected a name and began typing: “Sup?” Anakin smiled as he pressed ‘send’ and eagerly awaited a response.