Near the center of the half destroyed city, the team joined a throng of other refugees heading for the same ship they were. The mood here was more somber. Exhausted people dressed in rags trudged in mostly silence, heads bowed. It was sad to think that all they owned they carried on them. The population of Lyran was mostly human, but there were some other species mixed in sporadically.
In a group of around a hundred they boarded a small shuttle which would take them to the orbiting refugee ship. It would stop at a few more major cities on the planet then lunar colonies on two different moons before departing for Korono. These lunar cities had been devastated especially badly. They'd been prime targets for attack because of their strategic importance.
Because of this, the entire journey would take two full sleep cycles, though Korono was not that far.
"It was the best way," Anakin said to Padme, although it was himself he was reassuring. "I know it's the only way we can get in close enough to find her, but it just feels like we're wasting time."
She rubbed his shoulders, the cover of husband and wife soothing the worry a little, of what Rex and Obi-wan might think if they saw. Their other two teammates were not actually in the room at the moment. They'd gone out to explore the ship, leaving them in the bunk room. Not that it was private. It was cramped, and smelly. You could barely walk single file down the aisle, and the bunks were stacked four high, leaving the top bunks so close to the rusting metal roof that you had to be careful not to hit your head when you got up.
Anakin knew this from the surprisingly unique string of profanities Rex had released earlier that evening as he'd investigated his sleeping arrangements. It was needless to say he and Padme would be sleeping in separate bunks.
"It'll be alright," Padme soothed. "If there is anyone that can pull this off, it's us. I meant what I said back on Lyran."
She scooted forward so that she sat beside him on the edge of her bottom bunk. He looked at her, so much love in his eyes. In that moment all his admiration and adoration rushed back to him, and it was not something he could hide. But just as quickly as the moment had arrived it was gone again, buried under a mountain of worry.
"I don't want to list our resume in the present company," Padme continued, now whispering close to his ear, "but the three of you are some of the most elite warriors in all the republic, and that's a statement of fact. Ahsoka has a lot of good people who care about her."
"And its finest diplomat," Anakin murmured back. "Not to mention, you can handle yourself in battle. Neither I nor Obi-wan, I'm sure, would have felt comfortable bringing you if we hadn't known how good you are with a blaster. Not…" he spoke this last part with more force, "that I will let them get close enough to you that you'll have to use it."
Padme looked up towards the door, and Anakin followed her gaze. Obi-wan and Rex were back.
"You know," Rex said, as he approached them. "It's not good for you to sit here and mope. There's a canteen down a couple levels. I say we go check it out to help pass the time. Your master is already onboard."
Rex had said it quietly, and the surrounding bunks were empty, but Padme still looked around frantically for any sign someone had heard.
"That sounds like a great idea, cousin Rex," she said, by way of reminder.
At this point Rex had already come to the conclusion that he was more cut out for being a soldier than a spy or a Jedi. All the same, he was enjoying this mission surprisingly much. Maybe it was the team. Padme got to her feet, looking down at Anakin expectantly.
"You three go ahead," he said. "I think I'll stay here and meditate."
"If you truly meant meditate, and not stew in your worry," said Obi-wan, "then I would let you be." He took his old Padawan gently by the arm. "Come on Anakin, there is nothing we can do at the moment, so we might as well go have a little fun for once."
"Great idea, Rex," Padme said. "I've travelled with these two before. They're not the type to think of going for a drink."
The canteen was on the bottom level of the ship. Down here was also the meagre mess hall and tragically understocked medical bay. There was no charity here. These people had to pay for their food and drink, just as they they'd had to pay for their spot on the ship. The canteen itself looked like any dimly lit, outer rim dive, except that the main material used for construction was metal. Every once in a while the old ship would shake, rattling the bottles and sending the chandeliers swinging.
It was crowded with broken people drinking to the loss of their homes, but the group still managed to secure a booth. Anakin had a glare which, whether it was intentional or not, cleared people from his path.
Padme had volunteered to get the first round. At the bar she picked up four stacked shot glasses and a tall, thin jug of local rum. Sitting on the stools, just a little ways down the bar were a trandoshan and a heavily tattooed human man. They were a rowdy pair, drinking some unknown liquid from large mugs. Many people on this ship were bound to be in possession of weapons, but these two didn't even bother to conceal theirs. They both wore large blasters on their hips, prominently displayed.
It was with a sinking feeling in his stomach that Obi-wan watched them approach Padme. The trandoshan put a clawed hand on her waist. As he spoke his long tongue flickered outside his mouth, though Obi-wan could not make out what he was saying. Anakin had not yet noticed, but that wouldn't last long.
Padme took a step back, setting the jug back on the counter. Anakin had noticed. He went to get up, face hardened into a scowl. Obi-wan grabbed his arm, holding up one finger, begging for patients. However he did not like the look of these two, and was fully aware that intervention might be necessary. Padme had not broken eye contact with the slitted reptilian eyes of the trandoshan. She said something then, moving her jacket slightly. She'd exposed the small blaster they knew she kept strapped to her side.
The human man started to laugh hysterically, and the trandoshan snarled, but they let her be as Padme carried over their drinks. She slid into the semi-circular booth on the other side of Anakin from Obi-wan.
No one spoke of her brief encounter though Anakin glared daggers at the offenders as they continued to go about their business.
"Starting us off with the strong stuff, Padme?" Obi-wan raised an eyebrow, pouring himself a shot. "I'm not sure that's the best idea after the last time Anakin and I drank on the job."
"Wait, are you talking about…?" Rex cut himself off, but there was a tight lipped smile on his face.
"Hondo," Anakin snarled, catching onto Obi-wan's train of thought.
His response had been so genuinely angry both Obi-wan and Rex burst out laughing.
Padme, at first, looked confused, but as realization hit her she began to laugh as well. "Oh my god, that was the time… the time with Jar Jar! He rescued you."
"That wasn't funny," Anakin grunted.
"No," Obi-wan agreed, still suppressing laughter, "it wasn't."
Obi-wan had poured them all a shot, leaving them in the center of the table. "Shall we?"
They toasted to a good outcome to their mission. The conversation continuing along in the same vein. Both Rex and Padme were eager to hear the previously undisclosed details of Obi-wan, Anakin, and Count Dooku's tenure as Hondo's prisoners.
"So," Padme gasped, so short of breath from laughter that she could barely speak, "you're telling me that you weren't drugged? You switched your drinks, but then got so drunk they captured you anyways!"
They were one more shot and a story in, and for the moment even Anakin's worries had been forgotten. Rex had to turn away to hide his laughter, still not completely able to tease the pair of generals to such a degree.
"Well…" said Obi-wan, "when you put it like that…"
"Ani! You didn't tell me that." Padme punched him in the arm.
She grabbed a tight hold of his shoulder, burying her face against his cloak for a moment as she got a hold of herself.
"I was hoping to avoid it," he said, though even he had a smile on his face.
Even as they enjoyed each other's company, it was difficult to completely ignore what was happening in the canteen around them. The trandoshan and his tattooed friend had not gone anywhere. In fact, they'd made themselves rather the center of attention. They seemed to be making their rounds so that everyone in the place had to deal with their obnoxious presence for some amount of time.
For example, they made a new friend by settling down on either side of a young man alone at the bar. Whether it was their charming personalities, or something else, he ended up buying them a round before leaving the canteen a little too quickly. When they tripped an elderly man, sending him, along with his pitcher of beer, crashing to the floor Anakin reacted. He slammed his fist against the table, shaking the pitcher of something called dreg Obi-wan had just set down.
Rex, who followed Anakin's gaze, said, "those two are really begging for a fist to the face."
"Now, you two don't get any ideas," said Obi-wan. "I want those criminals to get what's coming to them as much as you, but if we want to save Ahsoka we have to keep a low profile. No matter what we see, we can't get involved."
All of them had been drinking for quite some time. It was a miracle that even Obi-wan had kept his judgment.
"You hear me, Anakin?" he asked, grabbing hold of the younger Jedi's shoulder.
Anakin was still staring intently off into the canteen.
"Anakin?" he whispered into his ear. "Anyone there?"
Surprising everyone, especially Obi-wan, Anakin swung an arm around his master's shoulders with a genuine smile on his face. Obi-wan was immobilized in what was a cross between a headlock and a hug.
"Don't worry, Master," he slurred, "not getting involved is my speciality."
He tousled Obi-wan's hair like they really were siblings. Rex burst out laughing, and Padme cooed.
"Aw, you guys are adorable."
Obi-wan wiggled free, and flattened his hair as best as possible. "That was rather undignified."
They were slowing down in their consumption of alcohol. The dreg was something a lot like wine which was made from a local fermented root. It was much weaker than the rum they'd been drinking previously.
This period of peace lasted not much more than ten minutes, before they saw it. In an alcove off the canteen, not too far from where they were sitting, the briefly forgotten pair of troublemakers had cornered a woman. She was young, maybe even a little younger than Padme, and she looked terrified. She made a break for it, attempting to push past them. The trandoshan grabbed her roughly by the arm, slamming her against the wall.
All it took was a squeeze of Anakin's fist. The chandelier in the alcove exploded violently. There were screams. A piece of glass cut the tattooed man across the cheek. In the commotion, the girl managed to make it to the door.
Obi-wan was staring at Anakin open mouthed. He'd been so subtle, that if it hadn't been for this Rex and Padme may not even have realized.
"Oh, come on," Anakin taunted, "no one saw. What was the harm? You can't say I shouldn't have helped her."
Suddenly, though only for a moment, it was if Obi-wan was completely sober. "That was stupid, and reckless."
Anakin did not back down, his drunken confidence oozing from every pour. He leaned down so that he and Obi-wan were eye to eye, staring him down. Anakin was uncomfortably close. Obi-wan could feel his breath.
"That may be truth. But you're glad I did… on some level, aren't you?"
He straightened back up, smiling knowingly at Padme and Rex.
Padme was too gone to pick up on the tension of the situation. "Someone had to, you know? It's just the decent thing to do."
"Yeah," Rex admitted, "I've been fighting the urge to get up and teach them some manners for almost an hour now."
Anakin's smile widened to a full grin, and he started to laugh a little. "I mean, look at them."
He was looking over to where the tattooed man was still swearing over the tiny scratch on his cheek. And suddenly, just like that, the tension was gone and all three of them were laughing. Rex gave Obi-wan a playful tap with his elbow. Realizing for the first time how drunk he had allowed himself to become, the Jedi master knew he did not have as much control over the situation as he would have liked to maintain.
But the conversation moved on, more dreg was consumed, and soon the shattered lamp was all but forgotten. Obi-wan and Anakin had begun trying to swear Rex to secrecy. The commander knew much too much about them. Specifically, how exactly they'd been captured by Hondo and his pirates.
"But it's such a good story," Rex said, the alcohol having removed most of his previous inhibitions, "I just know the boys would enjoy it."
"Rex," scolded Obi-wan, using the best disapproving teacher voice he could manage in his current state. "You're a good friend. I'm sure you wouldn't betray what we told you in confidence."
Rex looked thoughtful for a moment. "Maybe just Cody then… I know it would mean so much to him."
Obi-wan decided to try a new tactic. "Don't tell Cody. That's…" He cleared his throat, making it comically deep and gravely, sounding not at all like himself. "That's an order, trooper."
"Trooper?" Rex feigned surprise. "Cousin Obi-wan, what do you mean?"
Padme, who had been resting her head on the table, sat back up at this, and began to giggle.
Anakin was looking at Rex intently, and the clone met his gaze, waiting for his response. Anakin moved his hand into view above the table. "You will not tell Cody a—"
"Oh my force, Anakin, no!" Obi-wan practically tackled him.
Letting out a squeak, Padme slid to the far end of the booth. Anakin was pinned against the booth by Obi-wan's body weight, partially by accident.
"Calm down! Calm down! I was joking, I swear."
The pair righted themselves, to find Padme and Rex still laughing. Anakin shoved Obi-wan away with an exaggerate motion.
"All joking aside," said Rex, good-naturedly, "I would not forgive you for that."
"Guys," Padme hissed, her demeanor suddenly serious.
The two people they did not want to be walking towards their table were walking towards their table.
"Hello, again," the trandoshan addressed Padme directly. "I feel like we got off on the wrong foot."
He sat down beside her, slinging an arm over her shoulder.
"Remove that or you won't have anything to remove," Padme spat.
"Woah, sorry about that," he hissed, doing as she asked. "Chill out, we're just trying to socialize."
While the other man had not attempted to sit down next to Rex, he leaned on the table, staring intently at his face with a curious expression. Rex looked away, adjusting his hat so that neither of the men could get a good look at him.
"You all seem like you're having a good time over here," the trandoshan continued. "We thought we'd come introduce ourselves. I'm Ztherr and this is Rel."
"Did you want something from us?" Obi-wan asked.
"Just looking for some new friends," said Rel, his attention having been diverted from Rex to Obi-wan.
"Well I'm not sure if we're the right fit." Obi-wan raised an eyebrow. "I'd suggest moving along. Go bother some other patrons."
"Now that's just rude." Ztherr did not appear to be planning to get up. He grabbed Padme's cup of dreg, taking a deep gulp. "I'm not sure if we can stand for this sort of negativity bringing down the mood of the party."
"You haven't made the best first impression," said Obi-wan, "though normally I'd be willing enough to have a conversation. It's just that, my brother here isn't in the most stable of moods tonight."
Whether Anakin was just playing along or genuinely contemplating murder, it was hard to tell, but the look he was giving them made even Ztherr falter for a moment.
"He didn't like the way you were talking to his wife, earlier," Obi-wan continued. "I do my best to keep him out of trouble," he gave Anakin a knowing look, "but you two really aren't making that easy."
"Fine," the trandoshan hissed, "we can take a hint."
He turned to leave, and Rel followed, though he protested as they walked away. "Why are we afraid of that guy?"
"It's not worth it to start something with them. It's four against two and that whole group gives me the heebie-jeebies."
The mood of the night changed when a band arrived to play live music. They were refugees just like everyone else, but they had their instruments with them and used their talent to bring everyone around them joy. So many refugees had been picked up now, that the party spilled from the canteen out into the bottom hallway. People were milling around, socializing, no longer confined to their family groups. It was this part of the night which would blur together in their memories the next morning.
A/N: Sorry for the filler nature of this chapter. The refugee ship arc was originally supposed to be one chapter, but it's getting so long I decided to post the first half. Also, since I haven't said it yet, thank you all so much for the reads and comments, and such. It means a lot to know I'm not just telling this story for my own benefit.