Chapter 13

Behind Enemy Lines

(one month later. Five Months after the Battle of Geonosis)

Stifling a yawn, Jaina—after having freshly celebrated her fourteenth birthday amidst the dusty wastelands of Aargonar—silently followed her Master down the hallway towards one of the Jedi Temple's many briefing rooms, as the Coruscant sun began to rise outside the large windows.

"Did Master Windu tell you anything about what this is supposedly about, Master?" She asked, turning to glance up at him. "We've only just returned…"

"He would not have summoned us so early and so urgently if it were not important," Obi-Wan said thoughtfully, gazing down at his little Padawan and offering her a soft smile. "Not to worry," he teased gently, "I won't forget about Dex's. We shall celebrate with Anakin and Ahsoka once we get back, I promise."

"I know, I know, not like we have a choice…" Jaina chuckled wryly. "I'll be waiting for that chocolate cake with extra frosting, like you also promised."

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes playfully as they reached the briefing room, where Master Windu was already waiting.

"Master Kenobi, Padawan Arden," Windu greeted calmly. "Good. You're here. I have an urgent mission for you both."

Jaina clasped her hands behind her back, assuming her usual spot half a step behind her Master.

Obi-Wan nodded. An urgent mission this early in the morning was a sure sign that the mission would be dangerous, important, or...

Both.

"What is it, Master Windu?" he asked.

Windu activated the briefing room holotable, and the image of an greyish blue world appeared. "Lanteeb. A mining and agricultural hub. More or less equidistant between Rattatak and Bespin, right on the edge of the Outer Rim, and far off from any major hyperlanes." He paused. "And yet the Separatists have invaded it with three entire Battle Groups."

Jaina frowned in confusion, glancing back and forth between Master Windu and her own mentor. "…Three, Master Windu? Why?"

Obi-Wan crossed his arms. Why did the Separatists feel the need to invade a mining and agricultural world, with no strategic or tactical advantages to consider?

"We cannot confirm anything at this point," Windu replied. "But with a planetary defense force that large, there can be no doubt—they're either looking for something important, or guarding something important." His expression hardened. "Whatever it is…it can not fall into Separatist hands."

Obi-Wan nodded slowly. "Of course."

"To make matters worse…" Master Windi pressed a switch on the console, and the hologram changed to a large Neimoidian. "General Lok Durd has been spotted flying in and out by Republic Intelligence agents."

Obi-Wan's brows furrowed. Not only was the decision to invade such a planet baffling—but now, it was even more alarming, with the appearance of General Durd. "What could he be doing over there?" the Jedi Master asked, his tone more pensive than questioning. "There is no strategic advantage to the Separatists in holding it—so what could he possibly be after?"

"Durd…" Jaina murmured. "…the suspected bioweapon specialist?"

"Correct. As for what he is doing, that is precisely what we need the two of you to find out," Windu explained, sliding a folder across the table towards them. "False identities. Republic Intelligence was able to falsify employment documents for you, Obi-Wan, as a civilian engineer about to begin work in Durd's research facility. They have been hiring engineers and scientists—offering relocation packages in exchange for defection to the Confederacy."

"You'll also find false school documents in there for you, Padawan Arden," he continued. "The two of you will be infiltrating CIS-controlled Lanteeb via civilian transport, posing as a father and daughter pair." Windu folded his arms across his chest. "From there, you will have a thirty-six hour window to try to find out exactly what the Separatists are doing on that planet. Any intelligence is critical at this point. Whatever is going on…it cannot possibly be good for the Republic. You'll also find extraction and communication protocols inside the envelope."

Obi-Wan nodded as he picked up the folder and opened it, glancing over the documentation. "All right. Covert operation to retrieve information on Durd and the Separatist bioweapons programs. Is there anything else we should know, Mace?"

"Unfortunately there's not much we do know. But I am sending you two on this mission because I trust not only your skill, but also your judgment." Windu's face was inscrutable. "This mission is highly classified. We do not, at present, have the means to mount a full-scale invasion, nor can we risk the Separatists being alerted to our knowledge of their facility until we have proper countermeasures in place. Therefore, your mission is critically important."

Jaina nodded slowly. "Understood, Master Windu."

"One more thing." The edge of Windu's lips curved into the smallest of wry smirks as he lifted a large trunk onto the table and opened it, revealing options for civilian clothing inside. "You'll need these. Take your pick."

Obi-Wan's gaze lingered on the trunk for a moment—before he turned to look over at Jaina, a small, mischievous smirk curling his lips at the thought of his Padawan in a dress.

He knew, of course, that his little one would hate it.

Perfect.

Catching her Master's mischievous smirk and his—most likely—train of thought, Jaina narrowed her eyes. "I don't like that look, Master…"

"...Are you suggesting I'm up to something, my Padawan?" Obi-Wan asked innocently.

Windu, meanwhile, chuckled from his spot beside them.

Obi-Wan was trying his hardest not to grin. She was going to hate this.

"You're acting very…" Jaina narrowed her eyes. "…odd."

Obi-Wan's smirk only grew wider, the corner of his lips twitching up in amusement; she was so easy to predict sometimes. "I have absolutely no idea what you could possibly mean, young one."

He reached into the trunk and picked up a bright yellow dress with delicate, lace-like frills around the neck and sleeves: something that was, clearly, designed for a young civilian girl, and not a stuffy, uptight little Jedi apprentice.

Jaina's eyebrows rose, her eyes growing wide. "Absolutely not—no, no way, not that!"

Obi-Wan's smirk widened, as he held the dress out to her. "Come on, my little Padawan, it's just a disguise…"

He knew very well that his little one hated yellow with a passion. The frills were just the cherry on top.

Jaina folded her arms across her chest. "If you get to choose what I have to wear, it's only fair that I get to choose what you wear. 'Dad'."

Obi-Wan froze. She had him there; his own logic had backfired against him. He couldn't possibly deny her request, it would be hypocritical.

"Very well," he relented, speaking to her as if she were his actual daughter. As if he didn't secretly love every moment of her mockery and sass. The Jedi Master loved messing with his little Padawan. It was most definitely one of his favorite hobbies. He smirked once more. "What'll it be then, sweetheart?"

"Sweetheart?" Jaina teased. "Disgusting." She snickered, then pulled out a neon orange jacket and trousers set from the trunk: something that was, clearly, designed for a typical, civilian man, and not a stuffy, uptight not-so-little Jedi Master.

She smirked, knowing full well that her dear Master absolutely loathed anything that was not a neutral or earthy color.

Perfect.

Obi-Wan stared at the horrifically garish attire for a moment…then sighed.

…The little one was absolutely insufferable.

"It's hideous," he growled. "…and you know it."

Jaina snickered once more. "Oh, I don't know, Master, I think the color definitely brings out your eyes."

The Jedi Master's reaction to his little one's choice was exactly as Jaina would have expected and loved.

That familiar, aghast expression on his face, one that showed he was about to comment colorful words on the atrocious choice of clothes.

…then held himself back. "I am not wearing that." Obi-Wan quickly regained his composure and folded his own arms over his chest. "You do realize that we are supposed to be undercover, right? This is not exactly subtle."

Jaina snorted. "Neither is that sunflower-looking thing you picked out for me!"

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. "Sunflowers are a symbol of happiness and brightness," he pointed out. "It's perfectly suitable for a civilian girl, and a much better choice than whatever that monstrosity is that you've chosen for me."

Jaina smirked wryly, reaching out with the neon orange suit once more. "Come on, Master. You always said citrus fruits were high in vitamin C."

"That, young lady, is a stretch." The Jedi Master grumbled under his breath. "That outfit is a sin. You might as well paint a giant target on my back." He scoffed. "Your fashion sense is truly a crime against the Republic."

"Oh, is it now?" Jaina snickered, leaning against the table. She could do this all day—mess with her Master and get a reaction out of him.

His reactions to the color orange were always so…amusing.

"And here I thought," she continued, smirking. "That dressing like a groundcar traffic cone was the new 'in thing' with the civvies…"

His little Padawan knew just how to push all the buttons.

"I assure you…" Obi-Wan's words dripped with sarcasm. "I will not be caught walking through hostile territory filled with enemy troops wearing that. Now." He playfully tugged at her curls. "We need to be taking this seriously."

The Jedi Master pulled out a much more subdued, pink dress out of the trunk as a truce, one that matched the ribbon in her hair. "Is this acceptable to you?"

Jaina took the peace offering and gazed at the dress for several moments. She smiled softly and chuckled. "It's…actually kind of nice…" She rummaged back through the trunk and pulled out a classier, and more subtle, navy blue jacket and brown trousers outfit, holding them out towards him.

Obi-Wan's eyebrows raised once more, as he took in the sight of his young Padawan's more subtle choice of clothing. He accepted the garments from her, gazing at them for a moment. "This is much better, thank you," he conceded, smiling. "Now, go get dressed."

Jaina took the pink dress, and disappeared into the nearby restroom.

Obi-Wan gave a sigh of relief, shaking his head and muttering to himself as she stepped away from him. He turned to Windu once more, who was just as amused and relieved as he was. "...I apologize. My little one can truly be insufferable sometimes." He smirked. "And yet I've never had so much fun in my life."

"Did you really expect her to take that ridiculous yellow dress without a fight?" Windu retorted, chuckling back at his friend. "I knew I selected the right Master-Padawan pair for this particular assignment."

Obi-Wan rolled his own eyes. "Don't encourage this."

Windu scoffed, stepping back from the table. "I won't." He looked at Obi-Wan, his gaze serious. "One last thing," he said quietly. "As your friend, Obi-Wan, I must warn you. Whatever this is that you two are about to uncover…I feel it will not be pleasant."

Obi-Wan nodded at the warning, his gaze flickering over to the entrance of the nearby restroom as he awaited his Padawan's return.

He knew, deep down, what Windu had said was true.

There was no other way to explain why the Separatists would allocate a sizable force to a system without a significant strategic advantage. Whatever was going on…

It could not possibly be good for the Republic.

"We will be fine, Mace. Jaina and I have faced worse before."

Windu sighed. "I'm not sure that you have. But in any case, I have faith in you both."

Jaina stepped out of the bathroom a few moments later, looking immensely uncomfortable in the sleeveless pink dress—after having spent her entire life covered up in her tunics and robes.

"Is this truly how civilian girls my age dress these days?" She muttered, her cheeks flushing slightly as she subconsciously brought her hands to her bare arms, and tugged downwards at the skirt in an attempt to cover her knees. "How is having this much skin exposed supposed to be practical?! My arms and knees are exposed to all sorts of hazards."

"Civilian teenagers don't care about practical, they care about pretty." Obi-Wan said dryly, holding back a chuckle. Until he saw the very real discomfort on her face.

The thought of her looking so uncomfortable in public was almost unbearable.

He paused for a moment, then walked over to the trunk once more and pulled out a beige cardigan, draping it over her bare shoulders. "There. Much better."

Jaina smiled, slipping her arms through the sleeves. "Thank you, Master."

Obi-Wan was still smiling from the rush of relief that flooded through him when he saw how much more practical the cardigan was. "Of course, my little one."

"Padawan Arden," Windu added dryly. "You and your Master will need to blend in with civilians for this assignment, do not forget. You will need to behave, well, normal."

Jaina blinked. "I'm perfectly capable of blending in with the civvies, Master Windu, why wouldn't I be able to?"

Windu continued to raise a wry eyebrow at her. "Normal fourteen year-old girls don't have posture like that."

Obi-Wan turned around and gazed at his little one, a chuckle escaping his lips as his eyes trailed along her usual rigid military stance—and how it contrasted the pink dress she wore as a disguise.

"I'm afraid he's right, my little Padawan." He concurred, tapping her nose. Even in her everyday movements, she was as stiff as she was sweet. "You need to stand and talk like a child, Jaina."

Jaina groaned, struggling to awkwardly attempt to slouch. "It is your fault I stand like this, 'Dad'."

Obi-Wan smirked. He knew he was at least half responsible for instilling her with her discipline—the other half being her own natural tendencies.

But for now—and for the sake of the mission and their undercover identities—that aura had to disappear.

(several hours later)

Jaina adjusted her position once more in the cramped, tiny seat of the crowded civilian transport that was now beginning to descend into the Lanteeb atmosphere.

She glanced down at her exposed knees beneath the dress and subconsciously attempted to lower the skirt of her dress until it covered them.

Obi-Wan, seated beside her, noticed the movement immediately.

Her tendency to cover up.

The dress she wore was impractical, but it was necessary for their disguises as civilians. She had to learn to ignore the practical voice in her head, otherwise their mission would fail.

"Leave it alone, my little one," he told her, his voice low as he glanced around to make sure they weren't being watched by any other passengers. "Your knees don't bite."

Jaina sighed and nodded, making the conscious effort to clasp her hands on her lap and interlace her fingers.

Obi-Wan exhaled heavily, as he realized the depth of the struggle that his Padawan would face in appearing "normal" for the next thirty-six hours. Her rigid, military discipline always crept back into her movements and mannerisms in some way or another.

"Why couldn't we have been assigned to the Ryloth first wave instead…" she muttered under her breath, groaning. "Then we could've been ourselves…"

"Because we're on the hunt for bioweapons and General Durd, my little cinnamon roll, not battling Super Battle Droids," Obi-Wan quipped, his tone playful even as he struggled to stifle his amusement. "Don't worry, you'll get to blow things up later." He leaned down towards her, his voice more serious now, as a comforting—but stern—look came over his face. "In the meantime, do try to relax."

Jaina wrinkled her nose. "…cinnamon roll? Why would civvies want to refer to their children as a pastry?"

Obi-Wan's eyes sparkled with mirth as he chuckled quietly to himself. "My little one, I have no idea," he replied, unable to hold back his smile. "But according to my research, it is some sort of compliment. Some sort of slang."

"But why?"

"We don't need to know why, we just need to make our behavior believable. Despite our lack of understanding of social custom," he retorted dryly. "So, learn to feel comfortable in your adorable little dress."

Jaina sighed. "I do not enjoy undercover assignments," she grumbled under her breath.

"Neither do I," Obi-Wan said, his tone still gentle and light. Despite his amusement, they had a very serious mission they were about to embark on.

His Padawan needed to remember that. "But, this assignment is a very important one. We cannot fail, my little Padawan," he whispered, his voice as stern as he could manage. "Remember, why we're doing this. Remember what that monster, Durd, could potentially do to civilians like the ones we are surrounded by right now. Like the ones we are pretending to be."

Jaina sighed. "I know."

Obi-Wan nodded. His little one seemed to be coming to her senses. "You're smarter than this," he continued in a slightly firmer tone of voice. "You must drop the military discipline, I know it's difficult. But we don't have much time before we arrive, and we need everyone to believe that we are who we say we are."

Jaina sighed once more and nodded.

Obi-Wan smiled softly at his little one, sensing her resignation with the way her shoulders fell. The tension left the air, and the Jedi Master knew that she would be fine for the rest of the journey.

He leaned back in his seat as his thoughts traveled towards their upcoming encounter with Durd.

They both had a job to do and, banter and teasing aside, they both knew just how dangerous of a situation they were in. There was no room for error.

As the civilian starship neared the spaceport, Jaina gazed outside the window—the dull, grey, and industrial-looking capital city coming into view. Her eyes narrowed, constantly sweeping over the landscape and the buildings, searching for any signs of bases or vehicles.

Obi-Wan glanced over at his Padawan. "You're conducting threat assessments already, aren't you?"

He would never be able to fully suppress the young girl's natural tendencies, not within thirty-six hours. The most he could do was channel those instincts properly, in order to maintain their cover. "My little one," he whispered. "Please do not be so obvious."

Jaina quickly returned her gaze forward, sighing again and forcing herself to act nonchalant as she 'casually' gazed out the window.

He rolled his eyes. Her attempts at casually gazing out the window were anything but nonchalant; his little one's entire body and demeanor were still far too stiff to pass as 'normal'.

While she might have been the worst undercover operative he had ever seen…at least she was trying?

Obi-Wan reached over and plucked the ribbon that held her usual tight braid in place.

As her brunette curls fell completely loose for the first time anywhere else but in private, Jaina's eyes widened in complete and total shock. "Maste—Dad, what are y—"

"Shush," Obi-Wan whispered, his voice filled with both affection and amusement as he combed his fingers through her curls. "You're not a 'soldier' here," he said gently. "You're my daughter. And little girls—real little girls—have curls, not tight, professional-looking braids. Our cover has to be airtight."

Jaina sighed heavily, frowning even more deeply as the ship began to power down upon landing in the public spaceport. She reached for the pink purse that hid her lightsaber and hooked it on her arm. Casually.

Obi-Wan noticed the way his little one reached for her purse.

He had learned how to spot the subtle movements in her body language, the way her fingers twitched before she did anything—as if her muscles were always anticipating imminent movements, her eyes, they were all very precise and too…calculated.

The Jedi Master leaned down towards her, once more letting his fingers run through her curls.

"Little one, remember…" He gestured to their surroundings as the people began to disembark. "This isn't a war zone. This is a city. A CIS-controlled city, but still just a city. Act normal. Relax."

He paused. "…And maybe let me do all the talking."

Jaina nodded, following along as they began to disembark the transport. Her heart sank as she glimpsed the long line for immigration…and the squads of B2 Super Battledroids that patrolled the spaceport.

She raised a wry eyebrow towards her Master-slash-undercover-father. "So. What was it you were saying about this not being a war zone?"