The Battle of Ryloth

ONE MONTH LATER.
SIX MONTHS AFTER THE BATTLE OF GEONOSIS.

Jaina turned down another aisle of the supermarket in the Jedi Temple Commissary and Commercial Wing, glancing down at a flimsiplast list she held in one hand, and absentmindedly reaching for a carton of—organic—orange juice with the other.

After placing the juice into the small cart, she glanced back towards her Master, who still seemed deeply engrossed in whatever it was he was reading on his datapad.

A wry smile crossed her face. "You know, I'm perfectly capable of doing our groceries on my own," she teased. "You don't have to accompany me, if you're just going to be on your pad."

Obi-Wan let out a small scoff, shaking his head as he continued scrolling through the endless list of reports on his datapad. He knew very well that his Padawan could run their grocery trip on her own—she was, after all, his Padawan.

And she had survived things throughout the war that some Knights hadn't yet experienced.

He raised his gaze with a smirk, to give her a dry look. "I know you're perfectly capable of going on your own."

"So then, why do you insist on coming along with me every time, if only to read more reports?" Jaina teased, reaching over for a container of eggs.

"Because a certain little one has a knack for spending too much time wandering down the sweets and baked goods aisles." The Jedi Master deadpanned, raising an eyebrow and giving his Padawan a pointed glance. "Which tends to result in an abundance of snacks."

Jaina giggled, stepping into the next aisle and glancing over at her Master as he averted his eyes once more to the pad. "That's an exaggeration."

"I certainly don't believe it's an exaggeration at all," Obi-Wan stated wryly, beginning to type a reply to one of the messages on his datapad.

As her Master's fingers flew over the keypad, his brows furrowed in concentration, Jaina's eyes drifted to a nearby shelf filled with packets of figda candy.

The Jedi Master was too focused in his reply to even notice the brief flicker of a gaze in the opposite direction. He continued typing, a small frown on his face as he formulated his words delicately—so as not to sound too frustrated, yet blunt enough that it would be clearly known what his opinion on the issue was.

These self-righteous bureaucrats would be the death of him. When had opening additional supply routes into the Outer Rim become such a constant headache?

Jaina tiptoed towards the shelf, and silently tossed five packets of figda candy into their cart. She then waved a hand to gently Force-push the box of orange juice in the cart to topple over the candy packets.

"I can feel the gears in your mind turning, my little one." Obi-Wan murmured, not even bothering to lift his eyes off the screen and the long, endless scroll of messages to go through. "Whatever mischievous thought you're conjuring, think twice."

"I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about, Master," Jaina said sweetly, quickly pulling the cart towards her and beginning to proceed to the next aisle. "I was merely thinking about how much I love those organic crisps you always buy. They are sooooo tasty, and not at all bland…"

At that, Obi-Wan snorted. He could see through her ploy in an instant.

"Nice try," the Jedi Master said dryly, watching his Padawan begin to push the cart away from the previous aisle—and the figda candy he had sensed her throwing into the cart.

"However, I wasn't born yesterday," He added with a smirk, watching as she desperately tried hiding the cart with her body, as if she thought she could successfully block it. "I know you're doing something you're not supposed to."

"I'm offended that you have such little faith in me, Master," Jaina said with a coy smile.

She was still moving, all while trying to nonchalantly block her Master's view with her body, still trying desperately to hide the contents of the cart…and failing miserably.

"Mhmm," Obi-Wan hummed, trying to fight back his grin at the rather humorous sight of his little one standing in front of the groceries. At this rate, it was rather obvious what she'd done.

He raised an eyebrow as he pretended to glance back down at his pad, casually following his little Padawan with a smirk.

Sensing her Master turn back towards his datapad and begin to type once more, Jaina reached for a box of meiloorun pastilles—

"Ah-ah."

Obi-Wan's voice cut through the air immediately, causing the teen to instantly freeze in place, her hand mid-grab onto a pack of pastilles. The Jedi Master didn't even bother looking up from his datapad, his smirk only growing wider as he pretended to continue scrolling through. "I'm watching you, little one."

"It's just…" Jaina sheepishly held up the pastilles. "…you see…Anakin says these are really, really good!" she nodded with exaggerated eagerness. "He says we should try them."

"And we believe everything Anakin says now?" Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. "Besides, I can't remember him ever mentioning anything about sweets to me."

Jaina shrugged, nonchalantly reaching for a bag of toilet paper rolls (which was, in fact, on the list). "You and Anakin talk business almost seventy-five percent of the time," she said lightly. "But he says these are really good."

Obi-Wan couldn't help but chuckle. "Oh, so now it's only seventy-five percent?" He deadpanned, watching as his Padawan very conspicuously grabbed a bottle of shampoo next.

As if that would draw his attention away in the slightest.

"The last I recall, you were saying we always talk business."

Without even waiting for his little Padawan's response, Obi-Wan took a step closer to the girl, peering into the grocery cart—his eyes immediately catching the packets of figda candy and meiloorun pastilles.

He raised an eyebrow and tried to maintain his straight face. "And just how did those get into the cart?"

"…uh…" Jaina offered a sheepish grin. "…must've been the Will of the Force?"

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. "Right. The Force magically decided to place the sweets in the cart, instead of the items I know are actually on the grocery list." As he spoke, he reached over and picked up both the candy and the pastilles—holding them up to his Padawan while she continued to nonchalantly grab a nearby bottle of laundry detergent.

"And just where do you think the Jedi Order's funds come from, hm?" He added, crossing his arms. "We are funded by the State, you know. There's only a set amount we can spend on unnecessary groceries this month, my little one."

"I see your point," Jaina said, nodding along thoughtfully. "But, wouldn't it benefit the 212th—and therefore, all the fronts the 212th is currently holding—if their Commander was consuming adequate sustenance to keep her brain functioning at peak efficiency?"

She shrugged innocently. "I daresay it would enhance the performance of the entirety of the Third Army, if General Kenobi's little Padawan's mind was fully optimized."

As his Padawan continued her oh-so-casual, oh-so-innocent, oh-so-ridiculous argument in an obvious attempt to rationalize the sweets purchase, Obi-Wan's expression slowly twisted into a smirk.

He rolled his eyes, tossing the packets back into the cart. "Fine." A little glare. "But next month, your sugar procurements are coming out of your allowance."

"And for the record, my little Padawan, just because I'm letting them go this time, doesn't mean I don't see what you're doing," he added wryly. As he spoke, he pocketed his datapad into his tunic, snatched the cart from her hands and began to push—gently blocking her from adding any more "necessary" or "essential" items. "And before you continue, no bantha-butter biscuits."

"But, Master—"

"No." Obi-Wan said firmly, shooting her a look. He then began to gently steer the cart down the next aisle, away from the sweets. "Now, let's finish the list and head home, we still have much to do. What else do we need?"

Jaina glanced down at the flimsiplast with the grocery list for a moment, then hastily crumpled it and slipped it back into her pocket. "All done, Master."

Obi-Wan gave her a look that clearly showed he didn't believe that at all. "Oh, really?" he drawled, knowing full well that there was still more to the list they had yet to purchase.

The Jedi Master raised an eyebrow, glancing at the flimsiplast peeking out of her pocket. "I could have sworn I put some vegetables on that list…?" he asked mildly. "…but I suppose they must've been magically removed by the Will of the Force as well?"

Jaina blinked for a moment.

Then shrugged innocently, slipping her hands into her pocket and wrapping her fingers around the flimsiplast. "I don't recall seeing veggies on the list, Master."

"Hmm," The Jedi Master droned, shrugging and beginning to push the cart towards the fresh produce section. "Well then, I suppose it's a good thing I have an excellent memory, and a clear mental image of our refrigerator's inventory."

Jaina groaned.

Obi-Wan smiled as he watched her walk behind him.

The Jedi Master and his Padawan didn't usually spend much time at the Commissary Wing, in between all the deployments and the campaigns.

But that was precisely why he enjoyed these little trips, just as they were.

Jaina wrinkled her nose as her Master began picking up bags of various vegetables—including, Force-forbid, Alderaanian broccoli—and placing them into the cart.

The Jedi Master smirked as he reached for a bag of spinach.

Jaina rolled her eyes. "Yes, yes, all right, rub it in…"

"Oh, I fully intend to." Obi-Wan retorted in response, moving down the aisle and adding in all the necessary vegetables. Brussel sprouts, cauliflower, carrots—all in the right proportions. "The GAR rations when we're out don't provide nearly enough nutrition for a growing teenager, my little one," he continued on seriously, adding a few packs of oranges and bananas into the cart. "That's exactly why I always insist we overcompensate every time we're back home."

Jaina sighed. "I know, I know."

Obi-Wan smirked gently and placed a hand on the small of her back, gently leading her towards the self-checkout counters. "Come along, little one."

As the two of them walked through the supermarket, he kept a close eye on her—making sure she wouldn't grab any extra snacks or sweets.

Jaina's eyes widened, her hand reaching out towards a pack of caramel biscuits—

"Ah-ah."

Like lightning, his hand quickly swooped in and grabbed her wrist, bringing the offending hand back down to her side. "You still have seven boxes of the triple-chocolate chip biscuits upstairs, young lady. That's more than enough."

Jaina blew her bangs. "Yes, Master."

Obi-Wan chuckled, shaking his Masterly Head. Honestly, the little Padawan was as stubborn and headstrong as he had been at her age. She always found ways to get what she wanted, no matter how creative her methods were. That was definitely an aspect of her personality that he'd learned to keep an eye out for.

As they arrived at the self-checkout line, he began the process of scanning the groceries.

Jaina scampered over to the other side, bagging the scanned groceries.

Obi-Wan took a moment to watch her, his gaze softening. He knew how much she enjoyed these more mundane moments, and he treasured them, too…they both seemed to share in that sentiment.

It was one of the reasons he always took his time, whenever they went on these little grocery trips. So they'd have these moments together—to talk, to joke, to just spend time together away from the violence and the suffering that so frequently surrounded them.

"See, I stuck to the list this time," Jaina teased, placing the last of the items into the last of the bags. "No extra snacks—at least none without your verbal approval, like the figda candy."

The Jedi Master chuckled as he slung one of the grocery bags over his shoulder. He had to admit, it was always entertaining to watch his little Padawan bargain and debate just to get a few things added to the list. He secretly enjoyed indulging her a little bit…even if he wouldn't admit it.

It seemed a particularly busy morning at the Temple Commissary Wing—Jedi of all races and species bustling around, as the afternoon Coruscant sun filtered through the large windows of the cavernous hallways. All along the corridor, there were Padawans walking with their Masters; apprentices getting supplies, others looking through the apparel shops; Knights conversing, some chuckling.

It was a place of calm, even with the ongoing war.

As Obi-Wan and Jaina made their way through the crowd, a small group of younglings and initiates scurried past, racing around each other and playing some sort of game. The Jedi Master chuckled under his breath, and put a hand on Jaina's back, gently steering her out of the paths of the boisterous children.

They kept walking—past the bookshops, past the equipment stores, past the bakery, and the electronics store. "Quite a lot of activity today," he mused, his eyes scanning their surroundings as they continued to walk along the carpeted floor.

"Just means more Jedi are home, currently, instead of out there." Jaina shrugged lightly. "Isn't that supposed to be a good thing?"

"Yes, of course it is." Obi-Wan nodded to an old, wizened Iktotchi Master, before continuing. "But it also means that it is more likely that someone in our path could stop, and talk to us." Then, he chuckled once more. "I would prefer that we not deal with any attention after we've just done errands."

Jaina snorted. "You could always put on your little grumpy face, and give your whole 'it's a Sunday' excuse. Maybe along with a little groan, just for added effect. That would probably discourage anyone from approaching."

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, nudging her shoulder with a bag of groceries. "Yes, I suppose I could put on my 'it's a Sunday, please do not bother me' persona." Then, he paused, giving her a side-eye. "It might work."

Jaina smirked. "It might."

The Jedi Master chuckled. "I suppose it's worth a try, see if we can't deter any possible conversation."

Spotting a new collection of soft pink, mint green, lavender, lilac, and turquoise tunics, cloaks, and gloves on the mannequins at the women's apparel shop, Jaina's footsteps…

…slowed…

…ever so slightly…

Obi-Wan noticed the slightest pause in her steps, catching the way her eyes had drifted to a new collection of pastel-colored tunics and robes.

He knew her well enough to understand how those colors would capture her interest.

"Jaina…" he warned softly. The Jedi Master glanced over to the apparel shop, noticing the mannequins that his little girl had set her sights upon.

Jaina smiled sheepishly. "I'll be just a minute…"

Obi-Wan frowned; he knew exactly how this would go.

Her 'minute' would turn into a couple of minutes, then she would want to browse some more, then she'd want to try on the outfits, and finally, she'd want his opinions on them.

The Jedi Master rolled his eyes. "That's exactly what you said last time—and then you ended up purchasing a white tunic exactly like the ones you always wear."

"Well, okay fine that's true…but after last month's undercover mission, getting to experience wearing a little bit of color in those civilian clothes and all—I really enjoyed it…" She poked out her lower lip. "I won't take as long as last time, Master, I promise…"

Obi-Wan sighed, adjusting the bags in his grip. "Five minutes," he grumbled. "Not a second longer."

Jaina hurried into the store, her eyes lighting up as she looked over the collection of tunics and robes, in various new fabrics and colors. She scanned the racks, finding her size amongst the various items.

The Jedi Master watched in a mixture of amusement and exasperation as she scurried into the store, her footsteps quick and determined. He stood just outside the shop, patiently holding the grocery bags as he waited for her.

He shifted from foot to foot, rolling his shoulders, and furrowing his brows—making sure that he didn't appear to have time for conversation with any of the passing by Jedi.

Jaina browsed through a rack of adorable tunics from the new collection, all in various shades of dusty rose and peach…

Pink. Of course.

Obi-Wan knew his little apprentice loved the color more than any other. That little pink ribbon had been in her hair from the day he'd first met her. And he would also admit that the color suited her; it's sweet and gentle demeanor mirroring her own.

Then again, there was always a sort of contradiction to her personality too. The dichotomy to her soft heart, hidden beneath the stubborn streak.

Jaina picked out a soft pink tunic, holding the lightweight fabric against herself and glancing at a nearby mirror…

Obi-Wan watched her glance curiously in the mirror, noticing how the tunic she had picked out complimented her skin tone; the way in which that specific shade of dusty rose enhanced the delicate quality of her complexion.

Of course—he also knew it wasn't as though she'd take one look and like it, either.

She would probably pick out a lavender one to compare it to. Then, she would probably want to try it on too, to see how it looked.

Jaina held on to the soft pink tunic, then browsed at the next rack, looking through the various new shades of lilac, periwinkle, and lavender…

The Jedi Master took a deep breath, shifting on the balls of his feet.

It wouldn't just be a couple of minutes, of course it wouldn't. In the corner of his mind, he knew there was the possibility that she was going to start mixing-and-matching tunics and gloves. And then she would want to look for cloaks or robes to match…and then boots…

And Jaina would then probably want to try on the sets…

Still holding on to the soft pink tunic, Jaina picked out a lavender tunic, and a pair of beige boots from a nearby shelf, then headed into one of the fitting rooms…

Obi-Wan huffed in begrudging resignation, shifting his weight on his feet again; it seemed that this would take more than five minutes. He set the groceries down next to him, crossing his arms as he leaned against the wall and maintained his feigned scowl.

He just hoped that no one would try to start a conversation with him…

After a few moments, the fitting room door opened, and Jaina stepped out. Wearing the soft pink tunic set and the beige leather boots, she twisted, and turned, admiring the way it looked in the mirror.

The young Padawan smiled, then turned her head, looking over to where her Master was standing, silently waiting for his opinion.

Obi-Wan chuckled with affection as he watched his little apprentice, his own eyes tracing the delicate, almost dainty appearance she presented in the light, fluttering fabric—with the tabards longer than the usual white tunics she wore, and draping well below her knee.

He pushed himself off the wall and picked up the groceries, striding over to where she stood in front of the mirror.

Jaina smiled. "What do you think, Master?"

It was soft and gentle all at once, the fabric suiting her slender frame and delicate features. The color seemed to enhance both the rosy complexion of her round cheeks, and the brunette curls that hung over her shoulder. He smiled down at her. "Lovely," he said. "It complements your complexion, and contrasts your hair quite nicely."

"And it's quite lightweight too," he added, giving the material a quick feel, letting it slide through his fingers. "It's a nice balance. Not too heavy to constrict your movements in battle, and not too light to wear when the missions end up in places that tend to get chilly."

Jaina beamed, pleased with the compliment. Her eyes then drifted back to the fitting room behind her. "I just have one more to try on too…"

Of course, there was always another one…

Obi-Wan's smile didn't falter. He nodded his head towards the fitting room. "Go on, then. I'll be out here."

Jaina hurried back into the fitting room and began putting the lavender tunic on.

The Jedi Master waited patiently as his little one padded back into the room, no doubt to try on the lavender tunic she had picked up earlier. He resumed his previous position, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, then glanced over at the other Jedi wandering around the shop.

Jaina stepped out of the fitting room a few moments later in the lavender tunic, then did a little twirl. "What about this one?"

Obi-Wan chuckled softly, pushing himself off the wall once more. "The soft purple brings out the blue in your eyes," he said gently. "It's lovely too, little one."

He glanced downwards to where the tabards, in a more lightweight fabric than she'd previously used, extended slightly below her knee and towards her calves. "Would those interfere with your range of motion during missions? Perhaps we should have them altered first? I noticed the same thing with the first one you tried on."

Jaina shrugged, twirling around slightly. "The fabric is quite loose and flexible, so it probably won't hinder me a whole lot, Master," she said. "It's pretty easy to maneuver in and won't weigh me down."

Obi-Wan studied her once again.

She was correct.

The tunic would provide a perfect balance between protection and fluidity and ease of movement. Besides, she was agile and quick on her feet; it would hardly slow her down. "Very well," he said, then smiled. "They suit you, and the longer tabards add a more graceful, more feminine sort of flair to your movements."

Jaina tapped absentmindedly at her chin and gazed at herself in the mirror. "Hmmm, but in terms of color…one complements my eyes, the other my hair and complexion…which one should I get?"

Obi-Wan watched as his little one tapped at her chin, studying the way she looked in the two tunics, unable to choose a favorite between them. He could see the slight conflict on her face; the internal debate between the two choices—both equally adorable, in his own opinion.

"I think…I want to get both…" Jaina smiled sheepishly. "Don't worry, I'll use my allowance this time, I promise," she quipped, stepping back into the fitting room to change back into her white tunic.

Obi-Wan let out a soft, half amused, half resigned huff. "Of course you'd want to get both," he called from outside the fitting room, picking up the grocery bags once more and shifting them in his hands. "Why am I not surprised, little one?"

Jaina giggled impishly as she stepped out of the fitting room, eventually heading to the register and handing over both the soft pink tunic, and the lavender one—along with the beige boots—to the lady behind the counter.

She took out her small credits pouch in exaggerated slow-motion…

Obi-Wan could feel his lips twitching into a smirk, watching quietly as his little apprentice made a show of slowly taking out her purse, all while she handed over both the tunics, and the pair of boots. He knew that his little girl expected him to step in, if anything, but he couldn't help but be amused by her little charade, and a part of him wanted to see how far she would take it.

Jaina rifled through it with exaggerated slowness, taking her time to count the amount of credits she had. She peeped towards the side and jutted out her bottom lip ever so slightly …

Of course she was trying to bait him into paying instead.

Obi-Wan set the bags of groceries on the counter and folded his arms across his chest, holding back his laughter at the sight.

He knew she was looking at him from the corner of her eye, clearly hoping that he'd step in. But, he didn't speak, letting her continue her little act.

The little rascal.

The Padawan continued counting her credits, taking her sweet time in pulling them out, and putting them in order on the counter in neat little piles. Very deliberately, and still in a slow, exaggerated manner…

The Jedi Master rolled his eyes good-naturedly, finally giving in to the inevitable. "Oh, alright alright, I suppose you could use two new tunics and some new boots, my little one." He sighed, reaching into his outer pocket and pulling out his credit chip.

The little rascal had him wrapped around her little pinky finger, and she knew it.

"But—" Obi-Wan added, feigning as much sternness as he could muster as he handed the elderly sales attendant his credit chip. "This time it comes with conditions."

Jaina blinked. "…conditions?"

"Yes, conditions," he retorted. "You must actually wear the chest plate armor, pauldrons, and gauntlets I had made for you—on top of these tunics. The next time we are deployed."

"But they're itchy…" Jaina groaned.

"I believe we've had this discussion before, little one," Obi-Wan shot back, leveling a slightly withering look at her. "I am well aware you find all sorts of armor itchy, and I'm also well aware that you hate wearing them."

"The point of armor is to protect you from injury. And—" He held up a finger before she could cut in. "It is still necessary to wear." He folded his arms once more. "I need you to compromise if you want to get both of these tunics instead of settling on just one."

"Okay, okay, I will," Jaina relented, glancing at the two tunics as the attendant began to fold them neatly before placing them into a bag with the box of boots. She sighed. "I suppose having colored tunics now helps, so that my uniform doesn't completely match with yours…every time I wore the armor before, Boil and the boys used to call me the Miniature General, you know," she groaned. "You just had to make our armor match, didn't you?"

"Of course I had to make our armor match." He smirked, reaching a hand up to rub his chin. "What kind of Master would I be if I didn't have my Padawan's armor match her Master's, hmm?"

He'd personally thought it was adorable—watching Boil, Wooley, Crys, and Longshot call her the Miniature General.

But, perhaps his little one did have a point about the pink and lavender tunics. Thankfully, she now had a colored variation to contrast his own white and beige ensemble. No longer would she look like a tiny, female version of him.

The sales attendant smiled as she reached over with the bag. "All done."

Obi-Wan nodded to the woman. "Thank you," he said politely, before turning back to his little one. He picked up the bags of clothes and the groceries, and gestured to the front doors of the shop. "But at least you won't end up looking like my carbon copy anymore," he quipped. "Now that you have a more colorful variation, of course."

He gave a wink in jest, smirking impishly.

"You know," Jaina quipped in response, following along as they reentered the vast hallways of the Commissary Wing. "I think maybe next mission—I'll borrow something from Ahsoka's closet."

"You will not!" said Obi-Wan, turning to give his apprentice a scowl. He knew Jaina was teasing him—she didn't have it in her to actually go through with that plan of hers, but it was still utterly unacceptable in his opinion.

He definitely didn't like the idea of his little one going anywhere near Ahsoka's closet. "I'll have you know that I do not like the idea of you even thinking about rummaging through that girl's closet, young lady."

Jaina shrugged. "Anakin seems fine with her wardrobe."

"Anakin is her Master," he retorted immediately, raising a haughty eyebrow. "I am yours."

Jaina burst out into snickers. "The look on your face right now—I can't believe you think I'd actually—wear something sleeveless like Ahsoka's—oh your face—"

Obi-Wan couldn't help but smirk, reaching over to lightly flick her forehead. "You, little one, are never going anywhere near Ahsoka's closet if it's the last thing I do."

As Obi-Wan and his little Padawan arrived back at their quarters in the Residential Wing, he carefully set down the bags he'd been holding—one of which contained the new clothes that he'd known he would be getting his little girl. "I need to take a call in the study," he said, ruffling her curls affectionately. "Can you take care of these?"

Jaina nodded, smiling softly. "Sure thing, Master," she chirped, carefully placing the tunics into the laundry machine, then beginning to sort through the groceries and other supplies.

The Jedi Master left the living room and strode down the short hall leading to his study and shut the door behind him.

Jaina continued to place the items in the respective cupboards, absentmindedly humming under her breath.

Her ears picked up the sound of the comlink inside the study, as her Master began to speak with whoever was on the other line. She could just barely make out something about the entire Outer Rim Garrison being threatened, but the rest of their conversation was indistinct, and she could only catch the sound of his voice, as he spoke on and on, his words still too faint to be understood from the kitchen. Although the urgency in his tone was clear.

Jaina pressed her lips together, and glanced towards the study door, exhaling heavily through her nose as she began boiling a kettle over the burner.

Well. The rare day of relative peace and quiet seemed to have served its purpose—the calm before the storm.

The young Padawan finished tidying the kitchen and sorting everything into their proper places, before setting about and brewing tea. Her ears picked up the sound of her Master's voice still droning on within the closed study, though she could still only make out the odd word or two—mostly about the availabilities of different battalions.

In between listening (eavesdropping) idly to her Master, she took several minutes steeping the tea, then poured it into two mugs.

The comlink in the study finally went silent after almost half an hour, and Jaina carefully lowered the kettle the moment her Master stepped out from the study.

"So?" She asked quietly. "…where to?"