Obi-Wan wasn't sure how long he stayed in the reactor room.

It could have been minutes. It could have been hours. Time crawled by, meaningless in the face of the shock and devastation that clouded Obi-Wan's senses. His head ached as though it had been skewered, a physical manifestation of the sudden cutting of the training bond he and Qui-Gon had shared. Obi-Wan vaguely wondered if this is what it felt like to have a limb cut off. Did it hurt this much? Or would it have been more bearable to lose an arm than to feel the bond cruelly ripped apart?

Regardless of the physical pain, Obi-Wan knew what he would have preferred. There was no doubt in his mind that he would have gladly given both his hands if it meant Qui-Gon's lungs would draw breath for another day.

I should have done more.

He didn't know what, exactly, he should have done. But he wasn't too worried about the details right now. His brain felt sluggish. He's gone echoed around and around, a phrase so unfathomable that he had to keep reminding himself that it was true, pressing trembling fingers against Qui-Gon's neck and hoping against hope for a pulse. The heat was leaving Qui-Gon's body as Obi-Wan held it, the limbs going stiff, and it felt so wrong.

Obi-Wan was no stranger to death. And this was not the first person to die in his arms. But Qui-Gon wasn't supposed to be this cold and still. It wasn't right. Qui-Gon was quick and agile, favoring the acrobatic Ataru over any other Form. Qui-Gon could duck and bend and dance as nimbly as Obi-Wan himself, flexible and graceful even as he aged.

This.. this frozen man couldn't be Qui-Gon.

And yet it was.

At some point Obi-Wan just... shut down. Like a droid in power-saving mode. He stood, gathering the body in his arms, and allowed his feet to guide him back the way he had come. He waited in the ray shielded hallway, staring through the many layers of red screens and refusing to think of anything at all. He walked along the catwalks, jumping from one to another in order to reach the door through which he had come. He wasn't familiar enough with the layout of the palace to try to find another way. And he didn't know where he would go even if he was. Autopilot was safer. Just retracing his steps.

When he came to the door to the hangar he flicked his fingers, beckoning the Force to open it. The door slid open-—

—and Obi-Wan was immediately assaulted by noise.

The pilots had returned, apparently successful in their mission if their whoops and cheers and general ruckus-making were anything to go by. Obi-Wan froze in place, unable to process the chaos around him. It crashed over him like a frigid wave, flooding his senses, stealing the breath from his lungs. It felt like drowning, like being tossed about in an icy sea. He clutched Qui-Gon's body a little tighter.

A flickering light in the Force caught his attention. He latched onto the familiar presence, the only Force-signature in the room as strong as his own. He caught a glimpse of a short brown nerf-tail among the shifting bodies, visible one second and gone the next. Maybe she felt his presence too, or maybe it was coincidence, but Sienna turned her head and met his gaze in the gap between two shoulders.

"Obi-Wan!" She called with a grin and a wave. Her Force-signature glowed and sparkled with happy crackles, impressions of thrill and victory swirling where they could be easily read. She shouldered her way through the crowd, no doubt intending to come talk to him, or perhaps to drag him into the celebration. That seemed like something she would do.

She made it to the edge of the group, scooting around one last pilot, and he could finally see her unobstructed.

Which meant she could also see him.

Her gaze landed on Qui-Gon.

She halted in her tracks.

"Oh Force," she breathed, a hand flying to her mouth. She stared at Qui-Gon for a moment, then slowly looked up at Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan swallowed. "Where…?"

He didn't know what he was asking. His brain was so terribly blank and terribly tired, but his feet didn't know where to bring him anymore. He didn't know where to go, or where he should bring Qui-Gon, or what he was supposed to do now.

The pilots had fallen silent too. Some had noticed Obi-Wan enter and had poked their companions into silence, others had heard Sienna's words and turned to see what was wrong. All of them now stood equally frozen and unsure and dreadfully quiet.

Obi-Wan thought he may have preferred the noise.

Sienna snapped out of it first. "Right," she said, straightening. "You there"—she turned to one of the pilots—"inform the Queen of our success and our losses. And you, come with us. We'll need a guide to show us through the palace."

"Yes sir."

Sienna crossed the remaining space between her and the other Jedi in just a few strides. "Come on, Obi-Wan," she said softly, "he'll show us where to go."

Obi-Wan nodded mutely.

The pilot gestured and Obi-Wan's feet carried him after the Nubian. Sienna hovered beside him, hand twitching like she wanted to reach out and offer a comforting touch but wasn't sure she should. She didn't.

Obi-Wan was glad. Or maybe not. He wasn't sure.

They walked in silence, save for the sound of their footsteps, until they eventually reached the palace medical wing.

"You can leave him here," a nurse stated, gesturing to a gurney. "We will bring him to be preserved until a funeral has been arranged."

Obi-Wan hadn't been sure his hands would be able to uncurl from where they clutched his Master's body. And yet they did, apparently, because he suddenly found himself standing in an empty hallway, hands by his sides.

"I should assist the Queen with her negotiations," he announced suddenly.

Sienna eyed him with something like concern. "Are you sure you should do that right now?"

"It is what I was sent here to do."

"Yeah, but maybe you should take a moment-"

"I'm fine," Obi-Wan interrupted. "And I must complete my mission."

With that, he turned and strode away down the hall, not bothering to wait for Sienna's response.

Sienna watched him go with a frown. There was absolutely no way he was 'fine' right now, but there wasn't really anything she could do about it, so she would just have to give Obi-Wan his space and let him process at his own speed.

The woman turned and left the healer's wing, intending to go find Anakin. The thin bond they shared was still alive and well, meaning that Anakin was too. Thank the Force. However, he definitely wasn't still in the vent in the hangar, which meant he could be just about anywhere.

"'Scuse me," she stopped a passing guard that she remembered being part of Padmé's squad, "do you happen to know where Anakin is?"

"Yeah, kid's with one of the handmaidens, she's showing him around the palace. I saw them back that way."

Sienna raised an eyebrow at the… something in his tone. "What did he do?"

The man huffed. "Crazy kid tried to capture the Viceroy by himself."

"He did what?"

The guard shook his head. "I know, I couldn't believe it. He's lucky he didn't get himself killed."

Lucky indeed. "Alright, well, thanks for letting me know."

The man nodded and continued on his way.

Sienna headed down the hall the guard had pointed to, stretching out in the Force and searching for Anakin's supernova presence. Now that she knew where to look, it was relatively easy to find him, and she turned a corner to find Anakin walking with a handmaiden at the other end of the corridor.

"Sienna!" Anakin skipped down the hall to meet her, immediately throwing his arms around her waist. "You're ok!"

"Course I am," she replied, hugging him back. "I'm the best pilot around, remember?"

"Yeah, but I overheard that some of the pilots didn't come back." He tilted his head to look up at her with wide eyes. "Was it scary blowing up the ship? Was it exciting?"

"Both," she agreed. "I had to fight off a number of battle droids and take a trip through the air filtration system on the control ship."

"Wizard! I wanna hear the whole story!"

Sienna laughed, ruffling his hair as he pulled back from the hug. "Sure. But first, I want to hear what you've been up to. Rumor has it you tried to capture the Viceroy yourself?"

Anakin ducked his head and clasped his hands behind his back. "Um, well, kind of."

"Go on then, what's your story?"

"I was just trying to help," he said, immediately jumping on the defensive. "You guys were all trying to save Naboo, and I wanted to help, and you left without your lightsaber, so I thought maybe if I crawled through the ducts to the throne room I could scare the Viceroy with the lightsaber and he'd think I was a Jedi and then he'd surrender and Naboo would be safe. I was just trying to help."

Sienna sighed, a hint of pink fondness fluttering in her Force-signature alongside Care and Worry and Protect. She crouched down to his level, and he cast his gaze to the side to avoid hers.

"Why don't we debrief what happened," she suggested. "Sit with me?" She shifted and crossed her legs under her, sitting down right in the middle of the empty hallway. The handmaiden who had been giving Anakin a tour of the palace seemed to take that as her cue to leave, and she swept away in a flurry of colorful silks.

Anakin sat down and picked at the threads on his pants.

"Alright, Mister Skywalker, shall we commence the debrief?"

He nodded. He liked 'debriefs.' The word itself was something he had never heard until Sienna came along, but she had explained how whenever a Jedi went on a mission, they had a debrief when they came back where they talked about what happened and how things might have gone better. A debrief wasn't being in trouble. It was just talking.

That didn't stop the fizzy feeling in his chest though, so he continued to avoid eye contact.

"Let's start at the beginning then. Where's the best beginning spot?"

"Well, you gave me your lightsaber and told me to go into the vent. So I cut a hole in the grate and tried to give your lightsaber back, but you were already leaving."

Sienna nodded. "Right. I hopped in a ship."

"Uh huh. So I put it in my belt and crawled in the vent. And then the droids were all destroyed and I was gonna come out, but Mister Qui-Gon told me to stay. But then I felt someone sticky in the Force—I think it was that guy who stabbed you!—and then Mister Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan went one way and Padmé and her friends went another way, and I was just sitting in the vent not doing anything."

Maul had been here? That was alarming news. Sienna quickly cast her senses out to search for him, but all she found was a leftover residue. He wasn't anywhere nearby. She tucked that piece of info away for later and focused back on Anakin.

"Do you think you should have done something?" She inquired.

Anakin frowned, face scrunching. "Well, I don't know how to use a blaster, and that's what everyone was using to fight the droids. I don't think I could have done anything."

Sienna nodded again. "Ok then. What happened next?"

"I got an idea. Padmé said that the whole mission depended on capturing the Viceroy, but she had to go the long way, so what if she didn't find him fast enough? And Mister Captain Panaka said that capturing the Viceroy would be easy. AND I had your lightsaber, and only Jedis carry lightsabers, and everyone knows that you can't beat a Jedi. So I thought I would help by capturing him, cuz he'd think I was a Jedi and surrender."

Sienna could see his logic there. Honestly, at his age, she probably would have drawn the same conclusions. "How did you find him?"

"I crawled through the ducts. The Force led the way, I think. And then I was right above him, and the Force told me to jump down. It was suuuper clear, like it sounded like it said the word 'jump,' almost. And I was worried because it was reeeeally high up, but you said that the Force can help you jump, so I decided to try. And it worked!" He glanced up excitedly. "I didn't die!"

Sienna huffed a half-laugh. "Good. We wouldn't want an Anakin pancake on Padmé's nice floor."

Anakin giggled. "Nope. Although, I did hurt my ankle a little bit."

"A 'little bit'?" Sienna echoed, eyeing him suspiciously. "How much is a 'little bit'?"

"Um, well it made a popping feeling and went like this." He turned his hand to demonstrate an ankle rolling.

"Alright, pause debrief for a moment. Can I see your ankle?"

Anakin stuck out his left foot. He tried to tug his boot off, but the pain that he had been blocking out flared up, and he released a faint hiss.

"Alright, hold on," Sienna said, holding up a hand to stop him. "You probably sprained it. Let's let a healer look at it instead. Come on."

"Wait, we haven't finished the debrief."

"We can finish on the way. Hop up onto my back, I'll carry you. Walking on a sprained ankle only makes things worse."

Well, he certainly wasn't going to say no to a ride. Sienna shifted into a crouch and Anakin looped his arms around her neck. She hooked her arms under his legs, straightened, and set off down the hall.

"Alright," she said, "you jumped out of the vent. Then what?"

"I held up the lightsaber, and one guy thought I was a Jedi. But then some droids came in with Padmé and her friends, cuz they'd been captured. And she seemed kinda mad that I was there. And a droid took your lightsaber from me while I was distracted, and then I was captured too."

"How did you feel when that happened?"

"Well…" he paused, thinking. "Well, I thought maybe it was silly for me to have tried to capture the Viceroy, especially cuz then I was stuck too, and maybe if I hadn't been I could've rescued Padmé. But it worked out ok cuz her decoy distracted the droids, and then Padmé found some blasters and freed us all and captured the Viceroy instead. And then someone called to say that the control ship had been exploded, and then Padmé sent me out because she had to negotiate with the Viceroy, so instead her friend took me to explore the palace. And then I found you. The end."

Sienna hummed. "So, what went well in your plan?"

Anakin took a moment to ponder that. "I could hear the Force. It was harder to follow than I thought it would be though."

"It takes time and practice to learn how to listen to it well," Sienna said. "And a healthy amount of meditation."

He groaned, gently bopping his forehead against the back of her head. "Ugh. Meditation." Sure, he'd vowed to try harder not even an hour ago, but that was then. Now, meditation seemed boring again.

A flicker of yellow amusement appeared in Sienna's signature. "What do you think you should have done differently?"

Anakin frowned. "Well, the plan didn't work."

"How so?"

"I didn't capture the Viceroy, and then I got captured."

"That is true," Sienna agreed. "Why do you think that happened?"

He sighed, resting his chin gently on the top of her head. "I don't really know how to capture someone."

"That is also true. Would you say that you attempted a mission beyond your training?"

That was another phrase Sienna had taught him. When you tried to do something you didn't really know how or weren't prepared to do, it was called 'attempting a mission beyond your training' or 'being unqualified.' 'Unqualified' was a rather big word though, and the first phrase made a bit more sense to Anakin.

"...Yeah. But I wanted to help."

"Did you help?"

"...no."

"Is it possible that you made Padmé's mission more difficult, even by accident?"

"I guess so."

"How?"

"Umm..." He chewed on his lip. "I'm not sure."

"You got captured too. So then Padmé had to worry about you a little bit. And that meant that she was a little distracted. You said that the lightsaber got swiped while you were distracted, so, being distracted makes a mission more difficult. Just like a podrace, where being distracted makes it hard to win."

"Oh," Anakin said. "That makes sense."

Sienna hummed. "So, you wanted to help, but you ended up making Padmé's mission more difficult. What do you think you should have done instead?"

Another sigh. "I guess I should've stayed where Qui-Gon told me to."

"Why's that?"

"Because if I stayed there, I wouldn't have gotten captured."

"True. Is there something else you could have done, or is that what would've been the best option?"

Anakin fell silent for a minute, trying to think of other ways he might have helped. Maybe he could have gotten R2 to do something? Like what? Maybe hack into the doors so the Viceroy got trapped? But the droids could have blasted through the doors, maybe? He didn't actually know much about battle droids. Those didn't tend to end up in scrap shops on Tatooine.

"I think that woulda been the best option," he said at last.

Sienna nodded, a tinge of gold approval swirling through her signature. "I agree. So if we find ourselves in a situation like this again, and someone tells you to stay put, what should you do?"

"I should listen and stay."

"And why's that?"

"So I don't accidentally mess up the mission, and don't distract anybody."

"Good. Staying out of the way on a mission you aren't trained to handle is part of being a good Jedi. It's called knowing your limits. Even the best Jedi have to just buckle down and hide sometimes. I've certainly done my share of hiding in vents."

"Even Mister Qui-Gon?" Anakin asked. "Does he have to hide sometimes?"

Sienna winced. Oh yeah, Jinn.

Anakin immediately picked up on the shift in Sienna's Force-presence. "What's wrong?"

"I'm afraid Master Jinn didn't make it." No point in hiding it from him.

Sienna felt the jolt of shock across the bond, and Anakin's grip tightened around her neck as he straightened. "What? What do you mean, he didn't make it? He's dead?"

"Yes."

"But…" Anakin floundered, not sure what to make of this. "But, no one can kill a Jedi!"

"We're not immortal, Ani. We live and die just like anyone else."

"But…" He trailed off.

Sienna sighed.

The rest of the walk passed in silence. They reached the healer's ward only a few minutes later and a nurse showed them to a room.

"I think he's sprained his left ankle," Sienna told the nurse.

The man nodded, holding a scanner over the limb in question. "On a scale of one to ten, how badly would you say it hurts?"

"Um," Anakin glanced at Sienna, then back at the nurse, and shrugged. "I dunno. How much is ten?"

"Consider ten the worst pain you have ever felt," the nurse said.

"Oh. Well, maybe three?"

"That's all?"

"Um. Yes?"

"What do you consider a ten?"

Anakin shrugged again. "Probably the time I got five stripes."

"Stripes?" The nurse echoed, brow furrowed in confusion.

"Yeah, stripes. With a whip. You know."

The man's eyes widened, and he shot a horrified glance at Sienna.

"We're from Tatooine," she said, as if that made it all better. It didn't, really, but she hoped the guy would just wrap the ankle and let it go.

He didn't. "Was that recently?"

Anakin shook his head. "No, that was a couple years ago."

"Was that a common occurrence?"

"No, Watto didn't like whips. That was when his brother watched the shop for a week."

"Is Watto a relative of yours?"

"No."

"Who is Watto?"

Anakin pressed his lips in a thin line. He refused to say Watto had been his master. It was a small piece of rebellion he had clung to his entire life, calling Watto by name instead of by title, one the Toydarian had apparently tolerated given the fact that Anakin was still alive.

"Look, man," Sienna interjected, "Anakin grew up in slavery on Tatooine. He sprained his ankle like half an hour ago jumping off of something tall. Can you just, wrap it up real quick?"

"Has he ever seen a doctor?" The nurse asked instead, clearly caught up on the slavery thing.

"Nope," Anakin answered.

The nurse's frown deepened. "How old are you?"

"Almost ten."

The nurse made a note on his datapad. "Do you two have anywhere critical to be right now?"

Sienna sighed. She had a feeling about where this was going. "I guess not."

"Then I'd like to do a full checkup, if that's alright with you."

"What's a checkup?" Anakin asked.

"It's when a doctor checks to make sure you're healthy," the nurse responded. "I'll check your height and weight, reflexes, blood pressure, and a few other things. Most children here have a checkup once a year."

Anakin glanced at Sienna. "Do you get checkups?"

"When I'm on my home planet, yeah, I do."

"Well, ok," Anakin said. "I guess I can do one."

The nurse nodded and turned to Sienna. "I'll bring you the consent forms to sign."

"Oh, I'm not his guardian," Sienna said.

"Then who is?"

That was a good question, come to think of it. Jinn, probably, since the man had technically won ownership of Anakin in a bet and then chosen to set the boy free. But with Jinn dead… "Er, I guess I am the closest thing."

The nurse nodded. "I'll be right back. Make yourselves comfortable."


After the negotiations with the Viceroy and a few miscellaneous tasks, Obi-Wan called Yoda to give a report. And somehow, like always, the little green Master knew. He always knew. He felt the death of every single Jedi, no matter how far they were from home. He listened as Obi-Wan gave a brief summary of events: the battle with the droid army, the destruction of the control ship, the capture of the Viceroy, and finally, the death of the Sith.

And of Qui-Gon.

Yoda's ears drooped as Obi-Wan said, in clipped, controlled words, "Qui-Gon fell by the blade of this warrior."

"Sorry, I am," Yoda said. "Go to Naboo, the Council will. A funeral there, we will hold. Honored, he will be, by both the Jedi and the planet he died serving."

Obi-Wan dipped his head. It was only right that Qui-Gon should be honored in such a way.

"Not gone is he," the Master said, his tone gentle. "One with the Force, yes. Gone, no. Always with you, he will be."

"Yes, Master."

"Hmm," Yoda eyed him. "Doubt the Force, do you? Doubt its goodness, for taking your Master from you?"

"No, Master."

"Hmm." He sounded unconvinced, but he said nothing more on the matter. "See you soon, I will. May the Force be with you."

"And also with you."

Click.

Obi-Wan took a shuddering breath as the call disconnected. Tears welled up in his eyes again, and his head was still pounding from the bleeding stub of a training bond. He squeezed his eyes shut and dug the heels of his palms against them, willing the tears to stay back. He'd held it together so far, through the negotiations and other things he'd been doing all day. He wouldn't break now.

The Council would be here in a week. What was he supposed to do until then?

There was plenty of cleanup to do throughout Theed, as well as on the outskirts of the jungle. Droid parts to gather, tanks to dismantle, damaged homes to repair. There was also the matter of the Viceroy, who would need to be kept under guard. As a Jedi, Obi-Wan should help with all of it. Perhaps direct some of the cleaning crews, or offer to take a turn watching the Viceroy. There was also the newfound alliance between the Nubian humans and the Gungans, an alliance that both peoples' leaders would likely want to put into writing. That was something else Obi-Wan should probably offer to oversee. He'd helped negotiate plenty of treaties before.

But he didn't want to do any of it. Thinking of all the things that needed to be done… It just left him feeling exhausted.

With a sigh, Obi-Wan dropped his hands and moved to the little kitchenette in the quarters that Queen Amidala had generously provided. He wasn't sure when exactly she'd had time to arrange places for him and the others to stay, but somehow she had. It occurred to him that he hadn't even said anything about staying the night, but he supposed anyone would want to rest after a busy day storming a city. He'd have to let her know that the Council was coming next week, and he'd have to find someone to do the funeral arrangements.

He should probably do that now. Instead, he found a kettle and put it on the stove. He needed some tea.

The next thing he knew, the kettle was whistling, and then he found himself sitting on the couch with his hands wrapped around a warm cup. Steam curled upwards, wafting against his face, and he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, letting the familiar scent of herbs wash over him.

The tears pricked at his eyes again. He clutched the cup a little tighter.

Force, it had been a long day. Was it really just that morning that he was on a ship, scanning the jungle for a place to land? That Qui-Gon had placed a hand on his shoulder and said that Obi-Wan was a good apprentice? That Queen Amidala had negotiated with the Gungan Boss to save the planet?

It seemed like ages ago.

Obi-Wan certainly didn't feel like a good apprentice right now. What kind of Padawan stands helpless while his Master is skewered by a Sith?

A failure.

To top it off, Qui-Gon had tasked Obi-Wan with training Anakin. Obi-Wan wasn't even a Knight yet, he couldn't take on a Padawan. He was still a Padawan himself. Sure, he'd been recommended for the Trials, but he still had to actually take them. What if he failed? What would happen to Anakin? Heck, the Council hadn't even met the boy yet, who was to say they'd let him into the Order at all?

Obi-Wan had given Qui-Gon his word. Now though, looking at everything he needed to do, he wasn't sure he'd be able to keep it. Everything seemed impossibly daunting. But he had to keep his word to Qui-Gon. He had to. It was his Master's dying wish, and by the Force, Obi-Wan wouldn't disappoint him. Not now, not after everything.

With another sigh, Obi-Wan pushed himself up from the couch and brought his now-empty cup to the sink. He'd hoped the tea would lessen the ache in his head, but it hadn't, not really. And his thoughts were running wild, making the pounding worse.

Knock kn-knock.

Obi-Wan left the cup unwashed in the sink and moved over to the door. He took a breath, trying to push down his swirling emotions, and schooled his features into a careful mask.

He opened the door and found Sienna, standing with her hands in her pockets. She regarded him with a look entirely too soft for his already fragile state.

"Hey," she said, tone as soft as her expression. "Do you… Do you want a hug?"

That did it.

The dam broke and tears began streaming freely down his face, everything he had tried to lock away rising back to the surface with a vengeance.

Sienna held out her arms and Obi-Wan stepped forward, hesitantly wrapping his arms around her back. He felt her arms close around him, warm and tight, and he broke a little more. Short, sharp sobs tore from his throat as he hid his face in her shoulder. He clung to her, fingers curling into the fabric of her vest, and he felt her tighten her grip as well.

Sienna leaned her head against his and closed her eyes too. She didn't say anything—what was there to say?—but she tried to imbue her Force-presence with as much care and comfort as she could. When she sensed Obi-Wan's strength fading and his legs starting to tremble, she guided him over to the couch so that he wouldn't end up collapsing on the tile floor.

After at least thirty minutes of shaking and crying, Obi-Wan seemed to start calming down. His breath evened out somewhat and he relaxed his death grip on her vest. She started rubbing circles on his back, and he relaxed a little more, and then he tugged out of the embrace. Sienna let him go.

Obi-Wan leaned back against the couch with a deep sigh, letting his head fall back against the wall. Kriff, he was tired. He felt like he'd been run over by a speeder. Like, twenty times. Or run a couple of marathons. Everything ached, especially his head and his eyes.

He heard Sienna shift. "I'll be right back."

He gave a little hmph of acknowledgment.

A minute later the couch dipped as she sat down again. "Here. Drink this."

He cracked open an eye to find her holding out a glass of water. He wrapped both hands around it and took a small sip.

"All of it."

"Yes ma'am," he muttered, and he slowly drained the glass.

"Do you want another?"

He shook his head, then winced as the movement made the pounding in his head worse. "No, thank you."

"Hmm." She shifted, pulling her feet up on the couch and leaning back against the armrest. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I got trampled by a herd of banthas."

She let out a short laugh. "Yeah, I imagine."

They lapsed into silence. Obi-Wan let his head fall back against the wall and closed his eyes once more. He must have started dozing off, because the next thing he knew a sharp knock at the door startled him back to awareness.

"I got it," Sienna said.

She returned a second later with a tray containing a plate of crackers and some fruit.

"Eat," she ordered, placing the tray on the coffee table in front of them.

"I'm not hungry."

"Oh yeah? What have you eaten today?"

Obi-Wan opened his mouth, then closed it again.

"That's what I thought," she said. She picked up a piece of fruit and bit into it, chewed, and swallowed. "Cuz I haven't had anything either. This is as much for me as for you. Eat."

Obi-Wan picked up a cracker and started nibbling on it. Ok, maybe he was hungry after all.

By the time the tray was emptied and he'd had another glass of water, Obi-Wan was starting to feel a little better.

"Thank you," he said.

Sienna nodded. "No problem." She chewed one last bite of her fruit. "And, I'm sorry. About Jinn."

"At least the Sith is dead," Obi-Wan responded monotonously, staring down at his glass.

Sienna jerked in surprise. "What?" She asked. "He's dead?" Had she messed up the timeline that badly already?

"That's what I said."

"Are you sure?"

Obi-Wan shot her an annoyed look. "No, I suppose he could have gotten up and simply walked away after I cut him in half and sent him tumbling down a reactor shaft. He probably snapped his legs back on like a lego man and is off prowling the galaxy, waiting for the right moment to exact his revenge."

Sienna refrained from telling him that was exactly what Maul had done. Well, minus the snapping his legs back on. Obi-Wan believing that Maul was dead was probably part of the timeline. A timeline she had definitely meddled with at this point. Befriending Anakin was probably fine, befriending Obi-Wan was maybe fine, but blowing up a droid control ship and liberating a planet? That definitely fell into the category of 'meddling.'

"Point taken," she said instead.

Obi-Wan hummed, and downed the rest of his water. "The Council will be here next week. We'll hold a funeral for Qui-Gon then. And the Council will want to speak with you and Anakin, I'm sure. Until then, we'll stay here, and help Naboo with the cleanup."

"Good to know."

Obi-Wan set his glass down on the table and glanced at the wall chrono. "It's getting late," he commented. "You should get some sleep."

"So should you."

"Mmm." He knew he wouldn't be getting any sleep tonight.

Sienna fixed him with a look like she knew exactly what he was thinking. "I mean it. It's been a long day. At least try to get some sleep."

"I will."

"Wow, that was about as convincing as Anakin saying he'll try to practice meditating."

Obi-Wan snorted. "I will," he said again, with more sincerity.

"Hm." Sienna eyed him suspiciously. She stood and brought their glasses to the sink, washed them, and then came back and picked up the tray. "Alright. I'll leave you to it then. If you need anything, feel free to comm me, ok?"

Obi-Wan nodded. He had absolutely no intention of bothering anyone with his sorrows, but he appreciated the offer. "Thank you."

"No problem." She waved a hand and the door slid open. "Have a good night, Bee."

"Good night, Sienna."