"Auggghhh!" This exclamation was made in a shrill tone that never would have been tolerated within the realm of the creche.
The three impressionable denizens of that sheltered domain watched wide-eyed as their recently introduced companion let out another unbecoming shriek. "Get that slimy reptile away from me!" she commanded imperiously. Though perhaps imperious was a mark not quite able to be achieved by one beating such a swift and undignified retreat.
As the Duchess of Flioretta from Macleu Six shimmied away, clutching her voluminous, bejeweled skirts and shaking them vigorously as though afraid the "reptile" in question might have become passenger, she could also be heard muttering bitterly about dashed expectations and the faint hopes for this generation of Jedi. The younglings who were, in some manner the cause of this grave disappointment, stared after her in stunned bemusement. But the shocked hush was soon broken by a small hiccoughing wail issuing from one of the younglings' number. The young Jedi-to-be had never encountered such undisciplined, unshielded feelings from an adult before.
Upon seeing their fellow's distress, the other two younglings were roused from their stupor as well. Still holding the offending animal in his grasp, the tallest boy, a dark-haired human, was spurred to protective action. "Aw, Reeft, don't be upset by that poo-doo head. She probably just thought Georgy here was one of her long-lost relatives." At this, he patted the animal he still cradled, which it must be said, seemed a bit discontent itself—whether from the shocking antics of the duchess or the over-enthusiastic attention of its young human friend, it could not be told.
The third sentient member of their party was meanwhile sputtering in affront. Normally the smaller, ginger-haired lad would have soundly scolded his friend, Garen, for the stunning disrespect of referring to an elder by such a childish insult, but for now, young Obi-Wan was too distracted by the gross inaccuracy of the Duchess's complaint. "Goergy is a grog! Grogs are not reptiles. They're amphibilan, amfiblian, am-phib-lans, just like Bant." He was sorely offended. Baby Bant was nice anyway. Being amphiblan wasn't anything to hold against a being. "Grogs are supposed to be slimy."
"Yea, Reeft," Garen chimed in. "Look, they're laying out snacks," he added in a tone of wonderment. The younglings were always kept well-nourished, but the sweets that could be spied on the refreshment table were a rarity. If anything would distract the young Dressellian, a sugar-laden snack would. Motivated only by the thought of comforting their friend, the two human boys eagerly began escorting him to the refreshment line. Besides, Georgy was probably hungry, too.
Master Ali was a Jedi and as such was a fine diplomat. After all, what better way to hone one's diplomatic skills other than mediating disputes such as the Great Hoverball Incident or the Case of the Missing Sprocolli Sprouts? But he could also deftly handle small talk with the Temple's guests from around Coruscant while still sparing ample attention for the antics of his charges.
He was secretly grateful that the esteemed Master Windu was the one the aggrieved duchess chose to accost after being introduced to the younglings' amphibian friend. After all, a Jedi is always humble. Ali Alaan therefore humbly determined that Mace Windu's skills were better suited to that particular diplomatic task. And there, already the duchess had been soothed and was patting her skirts and speaking self-importantly to the Korun master on some subject. Master Windu caught Ali's eye and raised a darkly amused and long-suffering brow. Ali returned the gesture with a small smile and nod of gratitude. With that diplomatic fallout handled, he politely excused himself from his current conversation in order to check on his young friends.
The point of this day was to allow the younglings interaction with non-Jedi. In the creche, all of the young ones' interactions were with Jedi, and Jedi adults at least were always steady and shielded any strong emotions. True, the younglings themselves sometimes experienced strong feelings and were yet too inexperienced to shield properly, but even then the adult Jedi blunted the most undisciplined emotions.
So annually, the Temple issued invitations to residents of Coruscant to come and meet with the younglings. These invitations were highly prized as the visitors were exposed to the famous Temple gardens and were allowed interaction with not only the young Jedi-in-training but also the elder Jedi supervising the event. Teachers and healers and public workers came and also sometimes society-members such as the duchess when it would be impolitic to refuse a request for an invitation. In exchange, the younglings had the opportunity to mingle with non-Force sensitives in a closely supervised environment for the first time since they left their homeworlds as infants.
They would discuss the day and meditate on its lessons later back in the creche. For there were always small surprises and discoveries to be made even though most the visitors were good-natured. So far the day had gone well…well, mostly. Master Ali had seen the Grog Incident. He was pleased with the way the younglings had comforted their friend when the Duchess's reaction had shocked them. Still, today was a learning opportunity, and he would like them to interact further with the visitors. Ali determined he had better move swiftly to avert future disaster as he saw the poor grog was being dragged by his enthusiastic captors towards the refreshments table.
Georgy, the grog, had been released, at Master Ali's suggestion, into the garden's pond where he could enjoy a snack of flitter-flies as tasty to him as the stuffed choco-lairs were to Reeft and his friends. Or so Master Ali had said, and he was always wise. Thus freed from their burden of caring for the young grog, the three boys had enjoyed their treat as well. While they ate, Master had introduced them to a nice man, Tronone, who said he had grandchildren their age.
The boys had heard of grandparents and grandchildren, of course, but the particulars of such relationships were largely unknown territory for them. Tronone asked them about some of the popular holos his grandsons liked to watch, but the younglings stared blankly as he described the adventures of Stubbo the Stupendous. Obi-Wan was especially unimpressed, Tronone found, as the lad asked with patent disbelief why the holo-hero wouldn't simply use his lightsaber to defeat the "bad guys" and responded with a polite, if underwhelmed, "oh," when he discovered Stubbo did not carry a saber.
But as young ones everywhere are sometimes unimpressed with the entertainments offered by their elders, Tronone was not offended nor deterred. Spotting the pond where the grog had earlier been set loose, Tronone suggested a game of skipping rocks instead. He was delighted to find this was a new pastime for the boys. Before long all four boys were engaged in a fierce competition of rock-skipping, Tronone being the oldest and most experienced boy gleefully enjoying the contest. However, he quickly found himself grateful that caring for Force-sensitive, sugared-up younglings was not his regular avocation. It was not long before the rock-skipping contest become a rock-careening exercise instead. In particular the young Obi-Wan and Garen seemed to be purposefully Force-directing their rocks to intersect at speed with each other's missiles. Out of the corner of his eye, Tronone also saw but judiciously chose to ignore young Reeft taking a surreptious nibble at one of the rocks.
Therefore, Tronone was relieved to see his wife approach. She brought with her a pitcher of muja juice and glasses to share. While Tronone privately was unsure that the refreshment was a good way to do anything other than excite his young friends further, he reassured himself that he and his wife would be returning home before long and the Jedi care-takers would probably be up to the task of corralling any overflows of youthful exuberance. In the meantime, the visitors might as well play the part of heroes delighting young stomachs.
"This is my wife, Malia," Tronone made the necessary introduction.
Obi-Wan had enjoyed the outing thus far. Well, other than that horrible duchess woman. It was one matter to be afraid, the Jedi after all were meant to protect and comfort those suffering from fear, but to be so horribly uninformed and close-minded as to malign poor Georgy like that and upset Reeft…well, it was most unbecoming! The duchess felt like a sarlacc greedily pulling all things towards herself, but when she was upset she had grown spikes to lash at other beings to punish and drive them away.
But Tronone had been very nice. He was like an open sky warmed by sunlight. He had strange ideas about holos and "superheroes" but he had introduced a very interesting new activity. Obi-Wan had been winning too, not that Jedi were concerned with such things, but he had been. His rocks had skipped many, many more times than Garen's and the last one had dunked Garen's too!
Malia felt like her husband, Tronone, like a warm breeze. Obi-Wan happily took the glass of muja juice she offered and graced her with his brightest smile as thanks. Malia smiled back indulgently, but her grandmotherly sense easily identified a mischievous charmer when she met one.
As Obi-Wan relished his juice, not gulping like an ill-mannered lout like some of his companions, he noticed a large beetle clinging to the front of Malia's tunic. He glanced around at Tronone and his friends. Surely someone else noticed the large, out-of-place insect, too, but no one seemed to be aware.
Now what should he do? The duchess had shrieked upon being shown Georgy, the grog. Her reaction had hurt Obi-Wan's ears but also the spiky feeling in the Force had been most unpleasant. And the duchess had only seen the grog. This beetle was actually crawling on Malia's shoulder. Obi-Wan didn't want to upset her, and he really did not want to see or feel her reaction when she discovered the insect. Maybe it would be best to overlook it. After all, beetles were harmless, mostly. Unless it were one of the Byarenize beetles from Iglar that spit acid to dissolve their prey, or the Mutharish beetle which was carnivorous, or any of the other species which had any number of horrific characteristics. Garen had shown him a holo-book profiling many notorious insect species in an attempt to disgust his friend. Malia was nice; Obi-Wan did not want her to be nibbled by the beetle.
Well, that settled matters. As a Jedi, or an almost-Jedi, Obi-Wan was honor-bound to prevent any such dreadful outcome. He would have to tell Malia about the beetle so she could remove it from her person. He would just have to hope she had a Jedi's heart and did not squeal and get spiky when she was told. He would have to accept her reaction either way, as a Jedi would, for the greater good.
Unless, unless…maybe there was another way. Obi-Wan had once seen a holo-book about animal charmers. He also knew from talk around the creche that some Jedi were able to accomplish such feats with the Force. He didn't know how they did it, but surely in such desperate circumstances as he currently found himself the Force would be his ally.
Obi-Wan closed his eyes and let his mind go quiet like the masters taught. Then he thought about the beetle and pictured it coming to him and not biting Malia at all. He thought very hard for a few moments.
He snapped out of his efforts when he heard Malia speaking. "Oh no, you don't!" she exclaimed while plucking the beetle off her arm where it had crawled. "Look lads, this is my pet, Bernie. He makes a good companion, goes everywhere and he's so decorative. He changes color to blend into his surroundings so he always matches my outfit. Odd that he made a break for it. Usually he stays just where I put him. Oh, I would let you hold him, but it seems your guardians are calling for the visit to come to an end. It was such a pleasure to meet you all!"
Obi-Wan gaped, just a bit. The beetle was Malia's pet? Before he could contemplate further, Tronone was giving each of the boys a manly handshake, and Malia was hugging them each. Obi-Wan was left speechless, but he was soon bundled back to the creche along with his age-mates.
When the younglings returned to the creche, the masters settled them into a circle. "Young ones, what did you learn today?" Master Ali asked.
"Beetles can be pets, but grogs cannot!" Garen supplied.
"Hmm. And how do you know this?"
"Because the grog made the woman squeal, and the beetle did not," he clarified.
"Ah, yes. Did you also notice the women's feelings? In the Force?" Master Ali noticed that one small ginger-haired boy was frowning in serious concentration. "Obi-Wan, young one, do not be upset if you did not feel a difference. With time, you will learn to free yourself from distractions and learn to be open to the feelings of others and you will also learn when to shield yourself. You did well today." One day these young ones would be Jedi. Ali was honored to play a part in molding them.
For now, though, they were boisterous younglings who had had too much sugar. "Come now, it is time for open recreation before evening meal." Yes, Master Ali was wise, indeed.