Chapter B: Boxes

Chapter Summary: Kit Fisto stumbles across a peculiar – but incredibly endearing – Twi'lek youngling. [Not continuative of Chapter A]

This one is also for you, Jacqui! :)

His head hurt. His tentacles were being squished into the ground, and they were making their objections known through one tendril's actions in strangling him. It was a new experience for him; he'd never known his tentacles could act on their own whim and strangle the person to whom they were attached. Or maybe that was just the concussion doing the thinking for him.

Oh, and the ceiling of the Temple nursery needed to be cleaned. Badly.

"Are you dead?"

If anatomically possible, the Nautolan would have blinked. Instead, his trapped appendages twitched in surprise, and he was painfully reminded of the fact that he was single-handedly killing his own olfactory head-tresses.

"Mister Jedi?"

"Ow…" he groaned, and attempted to rise.

He was promptly rewarded with a startled yelp and a sharp smack across his forehead.

"OW!" Belatedly, he rolled away and to his feet, clutching his smarting head with both hands. He tripped backwards over something, however, and fell on his backside.

That 'something' turned out to be a small cardboard box, the sort that used to be used for storage and had long been replaced by datapads and the like. The reason for his being on the floor in the first place happened to be another box, similarly coloured like the second – childishly haphazard and vibrant.

Jedi Knight Kit Fisto stared at the chaotic scene of the nursery before him: boxes of varying decoration covered the floor of the nursery, until there was barely any of the carpeted floor showing. Crayons and other colourful items of stationery littered the ground, and strips of coloured cardboard had been pasted onto the legs and bars of the cots.

There was no visible indication of his would-be assailant, either.

Frowning in perplexity, he lowered his hands to better view the nursery, then did a double-take when he saw his grease-stained and oily fingers. He wiped a hand on his tunic, then rubbed at his forehead; it came away smudged with oil.

And there, lying innocently at his feet, was a grease-stained hydrospanner.

"Hello?" he called out tentatively.

Silence answered his hail. He tried again. Now the silence was just mocking him.

Kit frowned, and nearly smacked himself for his own stupidity when he realised – rather belatedly – that he could just reach out with the Force. His senses were immediately overloaded with various Force signatures around the Temple, but he could detect a definite source not too far from where he was standing.

A youngling, perhaps? He wondered, rubbing his head absentmindedly. A quick look at the chrono told him that it was about time for Master Eylan – the nursery overseer – to be taking the older younglings to lunch. Perhaps a youngling had accidentally been left – or stayed – behind.

"Hello?" he called again, now starting to feel somewhat foolish. "I won't hurt you, little one," he said gently, looking around for the stray youngling.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw an overturned box move slightly, as if nudged. "My name is Kit Fisto," he continued speaking, moving slowly closer to the box. "I love what you've done with these boxes – I assume you were the one to colour them all?"

Through his – slightly sore – tentacles, he could sense the youngling's amusement. A soft, childish giggle – slightly muffled – sounded from the box. Now that he was only a few steps away from it, Kit could see that the words 'Ryloth' had been scribbled on one side; there was also a lopsided circle that was probably a representation of the planet.

"Now I wonder which planet you're hiding on," he mused aloud, his trademark grin appearing. He actually found himself quite enjoying this little game, despite the pain in his head. "Could it be… Naboo?" he said, glancing at another, smaller box entitled 'Nabu'.

Another giggle.

"Or could it be Coruscant?" his eyes sparkled upon seeing the box with a messily scrawled word that looked more like 'croissant' than the planet's name.

'Ryloth'-box shifted again, accompanied by more muffled giggles.

"I think I know where you are," he stopped in front of 'Ryloth'. "You're hiding on Ryloth, aren't you?"

"No, I'm not," came a sweet, muffled voice from the box at his feet, followed by more giggles.

"No?" Kit injected as much surprise into his voice as he could.

"Nuh-uh," the youngling persisted. "I'm on Coruscant!"

"I'm sure," Kit grinned, lifting up the box at last. "Hello there."

The Twi'lek youngling crouched at his feet looked up at him, a big smile on her face. "Hi," she said, a little shy under the gaze of the Nautolan.

Kit crouched down so that his height wouldn't intimidate the Rutian Twi'lek, but he couldn't help notice that she was tiny. The oldest initiates in the nurseries were five years old at the most, and the babies were kept in crèches. He wouldn't judge her as any older than four, but he hesitated to put her as any younger as well.

"What's your name, little one?" he asked.

"I'm Aaylas'ecura," she replied, still shy. "Oh… Aayla Secura, Master," she said, switching to the Basic pronunciation.

"Little Aayla," Kit said. "It's nice to meet you."

The Twi'lek beamed at him. "Do you want to play with me, Mister Jedi? I'm making a starship!"

Kit glanced around the nursery, with its colourful decoration and the many boxes – Where did she get all these boxes? – on the floor. Bant won't mind if I'm a little late to watch her spar with Kenobi, will she?

"All right then, little one," he agreed. "But please, no hydrospanners."

Some time later, Master Eylan returned with the rest of the younglings in tow, and stared at the scene before him in surprised amusement.

"… don't ask," Kit said dryly from the floor, where he was lying flat on his back with several – thankfully empty – boxes piled on top of him. An overjoyed Twi'lek youngling was drawing on his tentacles with coloured markers.

BBB

Bant Eerin looked up from her datapad at the sound of the door to her chamber opening. "Master?" she called, turning around in her seat. She blinked.

"Hello Bant," Kit greeted amiably. "I'm sorry I wasn't there to watch your spar earlier."

"… that's… okay," she managed, still staring at something above his head.

Kit sat down in the other available chair carefully, taking great pains not to move his head too much.

Bant continued to stare at him; more specifically, at the reason for his caution. "Umm, Master?"

"Yes Bant?"

"… never mind, Master."

The small, Twi'lek youngling continued to sleep soundly from her precarious position on top of Kit's head, her tiny fists clutching onto his newly decorated tentacles for security.

A/N: … yeah, this would imply a pretty sizeable age gap between Kit and Aayla, but I figured that since Kit was at least a Knight and maybe even a Master by the time he took on Bant Eerin as a Padawan, and Bant is about the same age as Obi-Wan, who I think was just a little bit younger than Quinlan Vos (Aayla's first Master), so… creative licence, people. Creative licence. And thank you for the positive reviews everyone!