A/N: I anticipate this to be about 2 or 3 more posts, just for your reference. Thanks for all the reviews; I always appreciate seeing what you have to say. :)

Disclaimers: (Because I forgot before) I don't own Star Wars or any of the characters who live in that universe (sadly). George Lucas does, and I thank him for letting us play in his sandbox.

---
Origins of the Mouse Droid?
---

Later that night, Anakin lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. He estimated that he had been in bed about an hour and a half, yet there was no feeling of impending drowsiness. The Padawan could feel the beginnings of desperation spread through him – he knew that if he didn't get to sleep, he would be tired in the morning, making for a bad day. However, that thought only worked him up more, making it even more impossible for him to fall asleep. It wasn't even as though he wasn't tired; Obi-Wan's katas had dragged on practically forever, and unexpectedly he'd been willing to work with Anakin with the practice sabers afterwards. Dinner had been followed by meditation, at which point Anakin had been drowsy, followed by bed.

Anakin rolled over, still unused to the soft sheets and heavy blankets that covered his bed even after four months in the Temple. He had been surprised to discover that he actually missed the light, rough blankets that covered and softened his pallet back in the hovel on Tatooine. Back home, he mentally amended. He pictured his mother, quietly humming to herself as she moved about the small dwelling, always keeping it tidy. Anakin knew that it was at best modest by galactic standards, but to him it had been enough. The air had always smelled sweet from his mother's cooking, the furnishings well-worn and comfortable, and the atmosphere was loving, warm, and complete.

In contrast, the Temple seemed cold and unyielding. Nothing seemed cozy and homey. The other initiates and Padawans Anakin had classes with were aloof and unfriendly. He had no doubts that he was an outsider to them – raised in another world with no right to the one in which he now dwelled. Anakin felt like an outcast, but even that didn't accurately describe his treatment. To be an outcast, the others would at least have to admit to his existence. The others behaved as if he simply didn't even exist. Not even worthy of acknowledgement, let alone any form of acceptance. Anakin liked to think that he could deal with malevolent treatment – one didn't spend much time as a slave without learning to defend oneself.

If only Mom were here.

Anakin balled up his fists then threw the covers off his bed. Rummaging through his closet, he found a relatively clean tunic and pair of leggings and pulled them on. As he put on his boots, he thought about what Qui-Gon had said earlier. "If I can't focus on what I can't have," he said quietly to himself, "then I'll focus on something else." Biting his lip, the picture of his mom coming to the Temple sprang to mind. At least, while I can.

Anakin crept out into the hall between his room and Obi-Wan's. From his Master's bedroom, he could hear the gentle rumblings of Obi-Wan's breathing. The sound always reminded him of the dry thunderstorms that sometimes swept over the surface of Tatooine, a low, throaty, primordial sound that had always fascinated him. The sound, as it often did, now brought Anakin comfort; in this case, it meant that Obi-Wan was unlikely to wake up, short of a threat to his person.

Palming the door to their shared quarters open, Anakin glanced in the hall before stepping out. While he technically wasn't breaking any rules, as there were no formal curfews or forbidden times for Jedi to be out and about, the Padawan was fairly sure this could be categorized under "Disobedience to One's Master" or some other lofty umbrella-like rule. It never occurred to Anakin that Obi-Wan might genuinely be concerned if he were to wake up and find his Padawan was missing.

Anakin moved sure-footedly through the dark hallways, making his way towards the industrial portion of the Temple. Because the Temple was, for all practical purposes, a self-contained city, it had its own limited manufacturing and industrial areas dedicated to the upkeep of the Temple itself and various related components, such as the computer systems, the starships and fighters, and electrical equipment. It was in this area that Anakin had found one haven, a place for him to center himself and find solace when there was none to be had anywhere else: the Repair Shop.

It had come as a surprise to the Padawan to discover that, as a general rule, the repair shop was maintained by non-Jedi. Obi-Wan had given him a roundabout explanation about, while many Jedi may have an aptitude for working with electronics, like Anakin himself, most focused more on activities that reinforced their connection to the Force, something metal components couldn't do. Civilians worked within this area for the most part without Jedi interference.

Anakin had made a few friends among the sentients who worked there, and, due to the naïve opinion of how much damage can one kid do, been given leave to tinker around in there as he wanted. As he opened the door to the repair shop, Anakin thought about his discussion with Qui-Gon. How is it even his own Master doesn't know much about what he does? Anakin couldn't help but wonder.

As he moved around the shop, picking up objects and putting them down again, enjoying their familiarity, Anakin considered his Master, coming up with and discarding ideas much in the same way. Obi-Wan is considered very good at sparring but takes his practices with the other Jedi very seriously. Maybe he doesn't find it very fun – he's just good at it. He doesn't seem to have many friends. I think his favorite thing is evening meditation. What does he do during the day when I'm in class? It can't be Jedi business all the time. No Jedi has that much to do. Even Qui-Gon has a hard time making him smile.

Anakin sighed in frustration. Could his Master really be that boring? He looked in front of him to see the dismantled remains of a small messenger droid. Suddenly, an idea came to him.

Scooping up the pieces of the droid, Anakin settled at one of the workbenches and began piecing the droid back together. He pulled apart the body of the droid, removing its AI chip and setting aside. Finding a small chassis for the droid, he wired the AI unit to that, making a small hole in the top of the chassis. The Padawan outfitted the chassis with small, multi-jointed legs with magnets on the ends, allowing it to skitter around and climb walls as it chose. It took some hunting, but Anakin finally found the most important piece – an optic sensor that could record what the droid chose to focus on. He attached that to the top of the chassis, making sure it could swivel up to 270 degrees. Finally, Anakin hooked it up to the computer nearby, using that to program the small droid.

The program was fairly simple, although Anakin was very proud of the idea. The droid, when he first turned it on after setting it up, would be imprinted to the first thing it would see. The droid would then follow that object – or, in this case, a person – recording it. However, it would use its AI chip to stay out of view. Because the droid wasn't even big enough to span the entire palm of Anakin's hand, the Padawan figured it wouldn't be noticed. A grin crossed his face. And since it's not Force-sensitive, Obi-Wan won't be able to sense it following him. He could show the footage to Qui-Gon at dinner tomorrow night. That could at least shed some light on his Master.

Slipping the droid inside his tunic, Anakin walked back to his shared quarters, beginning to feel the edges of sleep crowding in on him. A sense of satisfaction accompanied it. Once in his room, he hid the small droid in his closet, stripped down, and curled up in his soft, pleasantly cool bed.

I really hope Obi-Wan isn't that boring, was the last thought he had before he fell asleep.