A/n: I just had to throw in the card game joke there... thanks to Jedi Ani Unduli for suggesting it!
Peace, quiet and serenity surrounded Obi-Wan. A gentle breeze stroked at his back, ruffled his sexy ginger hair. Nobody existed in this paradise, brought on by about forty hours of meditation. Nobody but-
"Master? I have good news and bad news."
"Anakin, I'm trying to meditate."
"And I'm trying to hold a conversation with you, but apparently neither one of us is accomplishing our tasks too well. See, we just came out of hyperspace. That's the good news."
"That's the obvious news." He had felt the ship jerk when they had stopped speeding at a practically illegal pace and come back to reality, although he had pretended that it was just a tiny groundquake, wiping out the last of civilization on the planet his meditations had brought him to.
"The bad news is that the engine is on fire. We're about to break atmosphere now, but I don't know if our landing will be very soft. Your Padawan is navigating it now. She's not doing as good a job as I would be."
Obi-Wan doubted the last statement, seeing as he hadn't even realized they were in trouble. The smoky smell that he supposed must be the engines was undistinguishable from the odorous residue left by cooking experiment that had taken place sometime in the thirtieth hour, while the ride hadn't been rough since they had left hyperspace. Rhiannon's talents were clearly a far cry from Anakin's –while he was talented at keeping them up in the air, he also had the ability to hit a pothole in midflight, something Obi-Wan had never encountered before.
He finally opened his eyes and started by asking the most reasonable question. "Is the fire under control?"
"Not really. I think Ahsoka is stopping it from spreading, but I can't seem to extinguish it. The engine will probably stop working soon. Actually, make that the whole ship." As if on cue from some great, invisible director, the lights went out. "Well, would you look at that! My visions are getting more accurate."
Obi-Wan sighed and stood up. Was it so implausible that he actually get forty hours or so of peace and quiet while around him card games made for thinly-disguised wars, and Anakin wrote bad poetry? It wasn't like he was asking for much. "I take it you aren't going to take care of this."
Anakin gave him a pitying look. "Have I ever completed an important task assigned to me? Without starting a war, I mean."
"Point taken." He really had failed in teaching Anakin the fine art of Getting Something Done, although he supposed it could be worse (after all, if his Padawan hadn't gone to the Dark Side, then he was definitely doing something right!). With any luck, he would be able to instill a halfway decent work ethic into Rhiannon –although really, it was quite possible that she already had one. "I'll go check in on Rhiannon, and then go help Ahsoka attempt to put out the fire. You stand there and try not to harm anything, all right?"
"I'll do my best, but I can't promise anything." His former Padawan pressed back against the wall, making room for Obi-Wan to squeeze by out of the cramped 'fresher. "Oh, and I know that the journey is practically over now, but can we use the 'fresher again?"
"I guess so." Usurping the tiny closet-like space that was supposed to be a room really hadn't been something that would normally give the Jedi Master joy, but it was the only room besides the main room, and it was difficult to get the silence that one needed for meditation when one was surrounded by roommates who pretended to like each other and be best friends who would gladly lend a should out for a cheap price when you were sad, but who really wanted nothing more than to see you cry and then post photos of it on certain social networks that were scattered across the HoloNets.
Not that Obi-Wan had any experience which such a thing. He was just making an educated guess based on his knowledge of people's nature.
Outside of the 'fresher, in the ship's central niche, the scent of smoke was much stronger. Obi-Wan's first instinct was to strip off his shirt and reveal his masterfully sculpted abs to the world as he wrapped it around his face to help filter out the smoke, but seeing how Rhiannon braved the terror without looking anywhere near undignified gave him strength.
"Padawan, are you okay?" She certainly looked it; hands sweeping quickly across the control panel in a weaving, graceful pattern. However, according to Qui-Gon, he was an insensitive person who had little-to-no talent at figuring out what emotions a person was feeling, so he probably wasn't the best judge at seeing whether or not someone was in a fit mental state.
"Master Obi-Wan! Were your meditations enlightening?" She turned away from the controls for a minute to give him a smile that was what he expected it would like if all of the sunshine in the galaxy were placed behind the most brilliant diamond one could imagine. Across the control panel, her hands continued their complicated dance.
"They gave me a few hours of peace." Worry coursed through him; something must be wrong! Why else would a Padawan be showing concern about the actions of their Master? "How badly are you injured?"
"Injured? Me? Oh, Master Kenobi, I hope I didn't worry you!" She shook her head vehemently. "I do hate to showcase my abilities around people of lesser skill, but I rarely get injured. My sense of balance rivals that of a cat's, while I've always been able to keep a cool head in tumultous
situations. It's a natural talent."
"Oh, that's good. I always hate unnatural talents. So uncivilized. Do you have the ship under control?" He guessed so, for they seemed to be rushing towards the ground at a fairly constant speed, but it was hard to be sure.
"Well, it isn't really a ship anymore so much as it is a pile of barely welded together metal. However, using my levitational skills to the best of my abilities, I've managed to get it halfway under control while Ahsoka attempts to salvage the engine. She'll fail, of course -she's doomed to ultimately never succeed; poor thing- but it allows me to concentrate. I should be able to get us within five kilometers of our original landing spot." Rhiannon looked at him, hesitation in her big, twilit orbs. "Is that okay, Master?"
"Okay? It's not just that; it's quite good. Keep up the brilliant job, Padawan!" To be able to levitate a ship took a considerable tie to the Force, and it wasn't a skill that he would expect to find in one so young.
"Thank you, Master! I will." Content with the quick smile she gave him, like a fleeting glimpse of a sunset through a curtain of clouds that covered a glowing firmament, he walked down to the second of the two doors, the one that led down to the engine room.
"Ahsoka?" Without bothering to knock, he threw it open. "Are you alive?"
"What do you think?" Smoke rushed out in a huge gust, and with it a young Togruta Padawan (who didn't look anywhere as near as dignified as Rhiannon did). "The engine's gone. We're kriffed."
"Language, Ahsoka. Here, let me see." Obi-Wan delicately stepped past her and descended into the smoke-filled lair. "Oh, good Force!" At his feet lay a flaming wreckage of bolts and gears, and Force-only-knew-what-else. "Ahsoka, it looks like it was hacked apart by a lightsaber."
To her credit, she was respectful enough to sound mildly sheepish, although that might have just been the smoke getting to his head. "I got frustrated."
"Well, that happens. The important thing is that-"
"Master, I hate interrupting you, but we're going to impact in about thirty seconds. I figured that it would be appropriate to give you a time check." Rhiannon peered into the clouded chamber.
"Get back to the controls, and strap yourself in. We'll have to brace ourselves." And hope that the Seperatists didn't see them, and that there weapons system wasn't destroyed-
Oh, wait. This ship didn't come with a weapons system, did it? Well, that was one less thing to worry about.
"I also cut apart the straps. They were being too repressive. Sorry." Ahsoka sighed and looked perfectly docile and apologetic. "I don't have the gift of prophecy. How was I to know that they would come in handy?"
"Padawan Tano! That is utterly -utterly -oh, never mind. Just duck and hope for the best. And tell your Master that he can get out of the 'fresher now if he doesn't do any damage."
"Can do!" She skipped away, easily making the transition from false-polite to perky.
"Well, let's hope this ends-"
