KIDNAPPED!
At the annual Coruscant Livestock Exchange & Exhibition, a clan of peaceful EWOK RUGGER TRADERS is seized by a gang of ruthless PIRATES who mistake the small sentients for PROFITABLE PETS.
Desperate to rescue the vulnerable beings and finally put an end to this illicit trade, PEOPLE FOR THE ETHICAL TREATMENT OF EWOKS contact the Jedi for help, begging for the assistance of known-lifeform-sympethiser, OBI-WAN KENOBI.
The JEDI KNIGHT and a chosen few of the 212th are dispatched to the exhibition seeking ANSWERS that might lead them to the PERPETRATORS. Meanwhile, the PIRATES begin to discover the tenacity of the Forest Moon's People…
"Any idea why they called for you, sir? I mean, besides the obvious?" Cody asked the Jedi Master over his shoulder.
The clone commander was walking with as much purpose as he could without being uncivil through an enormous crowded bazaar where every slight turn of the head, every blink of the eye offered a glimpse of some multicolored, exotic or otherwise curious creature. The 2043rd Annual Coruscant Livestock Exchange & Exhibition was in full swing and when Cody wasn't trying to avoid stepping on a rogue nuna or running into some distracted offworlder, he was busy keeping an eye on Obi-Wan in the throng behind him. Engaging the General in small talk ensured Cody wouldn't so easily lose him to a passing twirll handler or the interesting rarities of a krayt egg stall.
"At some early stage in my apprenticeship," Obi-Wan replied, having to nearly shout above the general cacophony, "Qui-Gon took out a generous lifetime membership to PETE in my name, effectively condemning me to a lifetime of harassing newsletters and funding appeals. There are, by my last count, seven tree villages for repatriated beings bearing some Ewokese variation of my name."
Cody had to turn sideways to negotiate the gap between the rumps of two adolescent runyips. "You've never tried to cancel it?"
"I think even you might have balked at the paperwork." Cody grabbed Obi-Wan's forearm with a sharp tug when the latter began stroking the runyips. "Besides," the Jedi continued, "it struck me somewhat as speaking ill of the dead. So I am a few credits poorer each month in service of ~the Living Force~."
"Permission to speak freely, boss," Cody asked, not waiting for permission, "but where's all this activism when it comes to clones?"
Obi-Wan chuckled dryly. "Oh don't worry, Cody, I'm more than a few credits poorer each month in service to your pension."
"And if I don't make it that long 'cause I'm always watching your sorry shebs," Cody continued, throwing out an arm to stop the distracted Jedi from walking into the legs of a passing Zeer, "who gets it then?"
"Why, the next poor wretch who inherits your thankless job, of course," Obi-Wan replied with a wink. "But really, Cody, I think you'll surprise even yourself. And when the war's over, you can retire in one of my namesake communities. Endor would be a lovely place to settle down."
"Eh, probably more Rex's taste than mine. Just put me in for somewhere with open skies and little rain⏤ergh, and no livestock." He was suddenly acutely aware of his soiled right boot, despite the enhanced filtration mods in his bucket he'd traded Matix ten good Echani stims to install.
"I'll bear that in mind," said Obi-Wan with a wry smile as they came upon their rendezvous point, a larger-than-life Guarlara statue carved out of Wayland marble. Cody reckoned it had the same price tag as a planetary GAR medical facility and the inscription plaque testified to its having been donated to this year's exhibition by none other than the Supreme Chancellor.
"Ah, Guarlarus regiis! Notice the unique feature on the testes⏤" Obi-Wan began, Cody barely listening as he surreptitiously scraped the worst of the offensive residue onto the shimmering marble base.
"Master Jedi, Master Jedi! There you are!" came a chirping voice. A Pantoran male with spectacles thicker than transparisteel scurried towards the pair and interrupted Obi-Wan's no doubt fascinating train of gonadal thought. He stood taller than the Jedi, but carried himself in a close, quivering sort of way as if he expected the raised foreleg of the looming Guarlara to squash him underfoot.
Obi-Wan extended a hand. "Ah, Tenris, we meet at last. Two of my best recon troopers are already investigating elsewhere, but allow me to introduce Commander⏤"
"No time, no time for pleasantries!" said Tenris, "We've not a moment to lose! Your troopers are on a wild galoomp chase. I've just found the key witness." He stepped aside to reveal a paunchy, one-eyed Devaronian, who was cradling a delicate, tufted green rugger in the crook of one tattooed arm.
Obi-Wan, settling into a habitual pensive stance with one hand toying his beard, motioned Cody forward. "Commander?"
Cody swore he could still feel some shit on his sole, but duty called and he pulled out his datapad.
"So. What did the kidnappers look like?" began his basic enquiry. Six months ago he would have just asked "Species?" and gone from there, but General Kenobi would think such a leading question rude, so Cody made an effort to be unbiased.
"Weequays," said the Devaronian. "Who else? Five of 'em. One of the wankers had some prime green shades, a bonkers hat, and more rings than Hudalla. I tried to stop him"⏤here the Devaronian made a dramatic punching gesture that said he knew nothing of the art ⏤"but I could only save this little bushka from becoming lunch for his nasty monkey lizard!"
Obi-wan drew one exasperated hand over his eyes, holding up the other to forestall any further description. "Say no more."
He turned to Cody, the two of them sharing a nod and a shrug before sighing in unison: "Hondo."
"Don't tell me you know the fiends?" asked Tenris.
"One of life's greater misfortunes, I assure you."