DVD Commentary: "Some Things Are Certain" by cupiscent (1/2)

[bedlamsbard]

Title: Some Things Are Certain
Author: cupiscent
Fandom: Star Wars
Commentator: bedlamsbard
Notes: for dvd_commentary



TITLE: Some Things Are Certain
AUTHOR: Dee
PAIRING: Obi-Wan/Anakin
RATING: Adult (themes, language, sex)
SUMMARY: Detained far from where he should be by random chance, Obi-Wan meets an unusual slave.
DISCLAIMER: The characters and concepts are the intellectual property of George Lucas.

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Deep in the guts of the starfighter, something went thunk, which was never a good sign. The ship came out of hyperspace, and Obi-Wan realised he was not where he wanted to be, and lucky not to be in the middle of a sun, and then he started to swear.

Which, you know, assumes that certain things have gone thunk in starships around Obi-Wan before. Which makes a lot of sense, because, well, Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon probably made things go thunk on purpose just so Obi-Wan could fix them.

There should definitely be more swearing in canon. I mean, sure, they’re the high and mighty Jedi, but I’m sure even Jedi get annoyed. Which, you know, can sometimes lead to anger, which leads to the Dark Side, but just annoyance can’t lead to the Dark Side, could it? I mean, even frustration.

Communications appeared to still be working, and eventually Obi-Wan made it through to the comms room at the Jedi Temple. When he explained what had happened, dispatch starting swearing too.

I rest my point.

"I already said that," Obi-Wan told him.

"Can you make it through?" the fellow demanded.

"Don't fancy trying."

Because if he did, he might come out in the middle of a sun. Or a battle. Which, you know, I guess would be helpful, but he might come out right in front of someone’s lasers and get incinerated, which would not be helpful to anyone at all.

"Well, where are you?"

"Damned if I know. Check the co-ordinates; you tell me."

Silence for a long moment. Obi-Wan ran diagnostics that gave him all sorts of stupid answers. Eventually dispatch said, "What are you doing out there?"

"Not my idea," Obi-Wan reminded him.

It may not be Obi-Wan’s idea, but one has to wonder if the Force has a hand in it. I mean, the guy’s mysteriously drawn to Tatooine. In TPM, it’s not Qui-Gon or one of the Naboo pilots who points out Tatooine, it’s Obi-Wan. I mean, it’s the Outer Rim; there have to be any dozen planets that have no Trade Federation presence on them, but of all of them, Obi-Wan picks Tatooine. There are no coincidences in Star Wars; Obi-Wan was – and always is – meant to find Anakin.

"Well, the nearest inhabited planet is Tatooine. Could be worse. It's not Republic, but they do at least have decent mechanics. I'm sending you the details. Keep a low profile, get your repairs and get out of there. Soon as you can. They need you on Belderon."

Who wants to bet that Anakin’s worked up a reputation by now? Or, at least, he’s done the work, and Watto gets the credit?

"Tell me something I don't know," Obi-Wan muttered, flicking the transmission off.



As far as he could ascertain, 'middle of nowhere' was a good description for the vast majority of Tatooine. The skin of the planet shivered beneath his skimming ship, sand hissing and pinging off the hull in unpredictable gusts of wind. Fortunately, the bit of nowhere Obi-Wan encountered had a flyspeck township in its middle, and he even managed a reasonable docking in the hangar.

I’m always fond of environmental descriptions in science fiction, and I really love this description of landing on Tatooine.

And yeah, middle of nowhere just about sums up all of Tatooine.

Keep a low profile. Not that swaggering about as a Jedi was ever an entirely wise idea in the wilder systems of the Outer Rim. Obi-Wan sighed, tugged his hood up against the sun and sand, and went in search of what assistance could be garnered.

Hi, Anakin, who did swagger around as a Jedi during AotC. I mean, at least Qui-Gon dressed up for the occasion.

An hour in a cantina gave Obi-Wan directions and names for a competent mechanic, and an agent of the Hutts who'd convert credits to local currency. It also left him with a pernicious twinge in his head and a suspicion that the local liquor would not pass the intoxicant standards of the Republic.

Obi-Wan: slightly more sensible than Qui-Gon. He actually converted credits to currency; Qui-Gon just tried mindtricks and child endangerment.

"Watto" turned out to be a grizzled Toydarian junk dealer with a sideline in mechanics. He didn't inspire confidence, but his workshop was large, though cluttered, and half a dozen more competent-looking workers were engaged in something that made so much noise, Obi-Wan suggested they step outside to talk.

Once he could hear himself think, Obi-Wan explained, as best he could, the problem, emphasising that time was of the essence.

"Really?" Watto rasped, and Obi-Wan resigned himself to an extortionate bill. Watto turned, looking down the street to where a small group of youths skulked in the shadow of a wall. "Anakin!" he yelled, and one of them turned. His gaze was lazy and arrogant, verging on insolent. And the Force was so strong with him that it hit Obi-Wan like a physical blow.

Anakin: worst slave ever. No?

I’ve always thought that the Force – untrained, uncontrolled, especially powerful – could have a physical effect on a Force-sensitive like a Jedi. With someone like Anakin – all three, and I’m sure even in canon he had a strong effect on other Jedi, no matter how well-trained he is – that effect’s going to be at the very least doubled. I mean. Stronger than Yoda.

"I thought you said I could have a break," the youth said, as Obi-Wan reeled, gripped his forearms inside the sleeves of his robe.

"Well, now I'm telling you to get back to work," Watto called.

The youth turned back to his friends, pushed off the wall. There was a ripple of grumbling and leavetaking, the huddle dribbling off down the street. By the time he came loping up the street, squinting against the suns, Obi-Wan had almost recovered his balance.

As he came nearer, Obi-Wan realized the boy was older than he had guessed, aged by the desert perhaps. Lines carved around his eyes from squinting, his face tanned, his hair blond and bleached blonder. He was tall, broad across the shoulders, and he moved like he was comfortable with himself. Obi-Wan knew Jedi Knights with years of training who didn't even come near that casual ease.

Which is, you know, always a bad sign. I mean, in regards to the Jedi, because you’d expect the Jedi to be absolutely confident in all regards. The fact that they’re not = bad sign.

Also, Tatooine: ages humans fast. It explains why Obi-Wan aged so quickly in the nineteen years between RotS and RotJ.

He acknowledged Obi-Wan with a lift of his chin. "Anakin Skywalker," he said. His eyes were blue and sharp.

"Ben Kenobi," Obi-Wan replied.

DESTINY. YOU CAN’T FIGHT DESTINY.

Coming back to this, from the tail-end of the commentary: you’ve seen the TPM trailer, where one of THE moments is the one where Qui-Gon says, “Anakin Skywalker, meet Obi-Wan Kenobi”? This is it all over again.

"What's the problem?"

"I was rather hoping you could tell me."



Anakin's first response to Obi-Wan's starfighter was a low admiring whistle. "Now she's a beauty. Don't see ships like her out here often. Bet she handles like mind control, yeah?" He laid a hand against the hull.

Anakin/anything fast and flying = OTP.

"I'd be happy if it worked," Obi-Wan said.

"Always so demanding," Anakin said, talking, Obi-Wan realised, to the ship. "Alright, let's have a look."

Why do I love the idea of Anakin talking to the ship? Because it’s awesome, that’s why, and because he probably likes mechanics better than people, anyway. Besides, it’s very soothing to talk to something that doesn’t talk back and doesn’t want anything more than you can give.

He knocked about in the cockpit for a while, more to satisfy his own curiosity, Obi-Wan suspected. And then he sprawled out beneath the ship, ripped open the casing, and disappeared up to the shoulder in the innards of the thing, his voice echoing metallically when he said things like, "The diagnostics said what?" and "You cannot be serious."

I may or may not have ever said these exact same things to my computer, my car, and/or my saxophone. You will never know.

"Can you fix it?" Obi-Wan called down to him, impatient. He was on a deadline here, and just being in the same hangar as the youth was making his nerves jangle. It felt as though Anakin should be incandescent, but he simply looked like any other worker on this sun-blasted rock of a planet. Obi-Wan supposed, from what he knew of Tatooine, that he was a slave. It seemed incongruous.

Another mention of one Force-sensitive affecting another. Serious love, because it seems like a lot of writers forget exactly how strong Anakin is supposed to be, and I have no problem at all believing he could affect someone without being aware he’s doing it. (Part of my personal canon for Star Wars, anyway.)

"Keep your shirt on," Anakin said, sliding out from under the ship. "I don't know what you've been doing to her, but she's many new and unusual sorts of fucked up. Serious attention required."

Anakin swearing is almost as good as Obi-Wan swearing. Not quite as good because it’s slightly more expected, but still pretty fantastic, because Star Wars, sadly, doesn’t have as much profanity as one would expect. Well, in canon, anyway.

Obi-Wan clenched his teeth over the urge to swear. "I just need to get to Belderon. After that it can spend three weeks with the techs, if need be, but I have to get there, and fast."

No, Obi-Wan, give in to the Dark Side! Profanity is perfectly acceptable. (And why do I have the feeling that Obi-Wan could totally out-cuss Anakin if so inclined? And with a completely straight face, too.)

Anakin pulled a face, wiping grease from his hands on the front of his tunic. "Well, I can get her working good enough for that, I guess. But it's going to take--" he paused, thinking. "A week."

Anakin is just pained at the idea of Obi-Wan’s starfighter being with anyone but him. It’s all right, baby, it’s necessary.

"A week!" Obi-Wan grimaced. "Which part of 'fast' didn't get through? I have to get to Belderon."

"And I have to get parts from Mos Ardu," Anakin shot back. "And that's before I start recalibrating your whole damn flux system. Which is all before I can even start figuring out what's up with the--"

And now he’s just using technobabble to show off.

"I get the picture," Obi-Wan interrupted. "I can pay extra."

Anakin laughed as he stood up. "Watto'll love to hear it. But it's still going to take a week."

Anakin’s laughing because the concept of payment doesn’t quite mean anything to him, not when it comes to mechanics. He’s a slave, and Obi-Wan keeps forgetting.

Obi-Wan wanted to kick the ship. With great effort, he refrained, fumbling the serenity of the Force around him. Anyway, the way things were going, he'd just break his toe.

All together now – if it weren’t for bad luck, we’d have no luck at all.

"You need a place to stay?" Anakin asked. "They have rooms at the cantina. My mother works there."

Yeah, I was wondering what exactly Shmi did in canon, since she’s also a slave but we didn’t actually see her do anything except worry about Anakin.

"I know," Obi-Wan admitted. "She's the one who sent me to Watto."



That night, for the first time in a long time, Obi-Wan's sleep was disturbed. He could not remember the details in the morning, but the heaviness in his head, in his heart, was not the familiar distress of the old dreams of Qui-Gon. Something less well known, and somehow simultaneously more so.

WHAT HAPPENED TO QUI-GON OMG? Somehow my money is on Naboo rather than Geonosis – old dreams, not more recent ones. Which means this Obi-Wan is even more of a lost child than canon Obi-Wan, which is an odd thought, but also a very distressing one.

Oh my God. A realization. You know, in AotC when Obi-Wan says, “Dreams pass in time”? I think he’s talking about Qui-Gon dying nightmares. I’m serious. I think that’s exactly what he’s talking about. Forgive me if everyone figured this out when AotC came out five years ago.

He was still puzzling over it when he went downstairs for breakfast in the cantina. Shmi was clearing tables along the far wall, but apart from her, he was the only person in the place. Strange; it wasn't that early.

Shmi caught his eye as he looked around, and came over with her arms full of dishes and a smile on her face. (It seemed odd, somehow, that she could be Anakin's mother. She was so still, so calm, the rock the desert blew against but had no effect upon.) "Everyone's at the racing," she said.

"Racing?" Obi-Wan repeated.

"You really haven't been here before, have you?" She grinned. "The podracing."

I’m really glad that Dee chose not to forget the podracing, because it seems like it’s often purposely forgotten in the SW fandom despite the fact that it’s a fairly significant facet of Anakin’s childhood.

He blinked in surprise. "I thought that was illegal."

"Very few things are illegal on Tatooine," she pointed out, depositing her load of crockery with a clank, and wiping her hands on her apron. "At least, not if there's a profit for the Hutts in it. Podracing is less of a sport here and more of a planet-wide vocation. And it's a big race today, though I can't remember the name of it." She smiled apologetically, bringing over a steaming cup of something, the fumes of which seemed to clear Obi-Wan's head a little. "It's not really my thing, but I'll be going down as soon as I'm finished here as well." She set to wiping the table nearby as Obi-Wan sipped at the cup. "Anakin wanted me to take you with me, if you're interested. He was quite insistent, in fact. Oh, and he said the parts from Mos Ardu wouldn't be arriving until tomorrow morning in any case."

She smiled, and Obi-Wan matched it. How very Anakin, really, counteracting objections as though he'd known they'd be raised.

Anakin: fairly good at judging people, actually. I mean, if he feels inclined to do so. He’d have to be as a slave and as a podracer, and it’s probably also part of his unconscious use of the Force. I don’t think he’s as good as judging people in canon as he is in this fic, though, just because of the difference in upbringing. Also? I have the feeling this Anakin wouldn’t even look twice at Palpatine. He may not be able to figure out that Palpatine’s evil, but there’s clearly something the guy’s hiding.

The thought made him frown again. How would he know what was typical of the Skywalker boy?

Because it’s destiny.

Taking another swallow, he asked, "Will Anakin be there too?"

"Oh yes," Shmi said. "He's in the race."

"Really," he said. Podracing was a sport so demanding it was generally considered impossible for a species possessing fewer than four hands to successfully compete. Obi-Wan couldn't remember where he'd heard that - somewhere else in the Outer Rim, where the Republic's ban on the sport was less observed. And yet Anakin was competing. Obi-Wan was not even slightly surprised.

Four arms? Who needs four arms when they have the Force? I mean, seriously, Anakin is probably one of those guys who takes adversity as a challenge.

By the time they reached the stands, the noise was enveloping, a roar like surf or a battlefield. It certainly did seem, just looking around, that the majority of the population of Mos Espa - and even further afield, no doubt - was present. Everything was colour, movement, bright and loud in the doubled sunlight.

Someone in the midst of it was waving, shouting to Shmi. As they worked their way along a row of seats, apologising to the owners of crushed toes and kicked shins, Obi-Wan suspected it was one of the youths he'd seen with Anakin the day before. The boy greeted Shmi with a hug, and Obi-Wan with a nod. "You've cut it fine," he bellowed over the ruckus. "They've just called the track clear."

Kitster! Or so I’m assuming, since it’s not explicitly stated.

On the sand below, crews were scurrying away from a welter of machinery. It looked a little like the contents of Watto's shop, rendered mobile and lined up. Sunlight glinted off metalwork, spangling up and down the line as the pods bobbed impatiently.

Shmi turned to him, and Obi-Wan had to lean close to hear her say, "Anakin is third from the right."

"Really?" Obi-Wan said, as though he hadn't known that the moment he ran his gaze along the assembled pods. He could feel the Force pulled taut over the racecourse, spiralling tightly in to the sleek pod Shmi had indicated. So different from the languid, shimmering emanation he'd sensed around Skywalker the day before. Was the boy even aware he was doing this? Did he think it was just nerves or adrenaline, that tingle of his senses expanding?

There was a lot of talk in TPM about precognition being a Jedi trait, and I got the feeling that extremely short-term precognition was the norm – “Jedi reflexes”, as Qui-Gon said – but not long-term precognition, or visions of the future. We know that Anakin has them, because we see them in AotC and RotS, but the only other implication of long-term precognition is Obi-Wan’s comment in TPM about Yoda telling him to be “mindful of the future.” I mean, I think Obi-Wan can see the long-term future, but not as clearly as Anakin does – feelings, rather than visions.

Er. This part was supposed to be about Anakin’s Force use during podracing and/or combat. Jedi reflexes = short-term precognition. And I think “see things before they happen” is a misstatement anyway; it seems to be more along the lines of know things before they happen.

What a Jedi he would have made.

Uh. Not actually.

"And they're off!" Anakin's friend bellowed, but his words were eclipsed by the scream of the crowd, and in any case it didn't matter, because Obi-Wan had felt it, like an arc under pressure snapping to a straight line, and everything was colour and movement and noise, noise in his ears and head, and the sunlight off sand was dazzling.

The Force, baby, it’s all about the Force.



Later. The cantina. Shmi pressed a cup into his hand. When Obi-Wan lifted it to his lips, he realised it contained water - brackish, barely a double mouthful, but pure water nonetheless. He was not insensible to the honour. Nodded his thanks to Shmi even as he downed the lot.

I mentioned before how much I love earlier – let me restate myself, a massive, massive amount – and I love the acknowledgment that Tatooine is a desert planet, that water is precious – and that Obi-Wan knows this. He may be a Jedi, but he’s not a hidebound traditionalist unwilling to bend to or embrace local customs (well, except for the whole slavery thing, but that’s so unreal to him that it’s impossible for him to even comprehend it).

"Are you sure you’re alright?" she asked quietly. "I was worried you might be going to faint, back at the track."

"Fine," Obi-Wan managed. "I’m fine." He’d been worried himself, for a moment there. But he hadn’t fainted. Had made it through the whole race, made it back here, even if he hadn’t really taken in the results of the race.

I read Last Stand on Jabiim the other day and I was extremely vindicated by the fact that Anakin is canonically – or as close as we’re probably going to get – bad at projecting. Or should we say, bad at not projecting.

The door burst open, letting in a bundle of youthful enthusiasm with a familiar tall, blond figure at its centre, and the already sparking atmosphere in the cantina ratcheted up another level. Anakin was seized, hoisted aloft on shoulders. He was laughing, arms spread wide, whooping with energy.

He hadn’t won. Obi-Wan had picked up that much from the excited chatter on the way back to the cantina. But he’d been second by less than a length, and that was no mean feat for the biggest purse of the Tatooine racing year, and in a race where half the competitors had failed to finished altogether.

I’m really fond of the fact that Anakin doesn’t win. It’s very unusual to find fiction where the main character isn’t the absolute champion at oh, let me think, everything (see: canon), and I’m glad Dee chose not to have Anakin win.

The core of celebrators were on a victory lap, it seemed, surging around the cantina. Toasts were being lifted from the corners. Obi-Wan could see Watto hovering with a knot of older men. Gamblers, he imagined, and wondered how much Watto made from his slave's wins.

With an ear-splitting bellow, Anakin slithered down off the shoulders he'd been ensconced upon, catching someone up in a bear hug. (Leaning around the next figure at the bar, Obi-Wan made out that it was the youth they'd been sitting with at the racing.) Back slapping, congratulations called from everywhere, someone started up a rowdy song the words of which Obi-Wan couldn't make out. Out of the crowd, a girl slipped up to Anakin, going up on tip-toe to kiss him; he caught her around the waist, lifted her a little to kiss her more thoroughly, to a chorus of whistles and cat-calls, but once he set her back on her feet she scampered back into the crowd, and he turned away, accepting a brimming cup from someone. He drank the lot in one long, extended gulp, and Obi-Wan watched him, the room erupting into more cheers, and he thought, an hour, no more. That's it.

I’m also, for some reason, inordinately fond of the kiss here. I think it’s because it’s probably the biggest contrast between Jedi Anakin and slave Anakin, because even Anakin, the biggest rebel in the Jedi Order, wouldn’t do something like that (unless it’s Amidala, but that’s something different altogether. Or Obi-Wan).



Obi-Wan was unlocking the door to his room when feet on the stairs made him look back. "Anakin," he said.

The youth bounded up the last half-flight two at a time. His grin was excited, but assured, languid but somehow sharp. "Ben," he returned. "Leaving the celebrations so soon?"

I love that Anakin goes up stairs two at a time. I mean, yeah, canon (RotS, the opera scene), but it’s such a completely Anakin thing to do. He’s always hurrying.

"I’m just an interloper," Obi-Wan said with a smile. "Thought I’d leave you to it."

"Oh, don’t be like that." Anakin came down the corridor, stopping closer than Obi-Wan expected. He pressed one hand against the doorframe, and leaning in, added in a voice barely above a murmur, "You’ve been watching me all night."

God, who wouldn’t be?

Whoops, this is supposed to be my commentary-voice, isn’t it?

Obi-Wan felt as though he’d been winged in his starfighter, spinning just out of control. How could he say that it wasn’t his fault? That his eyes had been drawn almost against their will by how Anakin sparked in a way Obi-Wan just couldn’t see with physical senses? "Well, I--"

Somehow I have the feeling that Obi-Wan really has no idea how the hell he’s going to finish up that sentence. He knows Anakin’s going to interrupt him.

He didn’t have to; Anakin interrupted. "You know," he said, voice something like a purr. "There’s those that pay quite handsomely for an... adventure with the only human podracing star." He leaned his other hand against the other side of the doorframe, and Obi-Wan felt the door cold and hard against his shoulder blades. "Since you are just a visitor, I’ll do you a special rate."

Another sharp contrast between Anakin the Jedi and Anakin the slave. While canon Anakin might very well say that Obi-Wan’s been watching him all night, he’d never say something like this. No Jedi would.

The humour and heat in Anakin’s eyes was heady. Obi-Wan realised he was hanging onto composure by the edges, the whole day just too much and now this, now this... "I don’t think," he tried, but that was going nowhere. "I’m not really..."

"Don’t try to tell me you’re not into this," Anakin said, sure to the point of smug. He pressed forwards, his whole body invading Obi-Wan’s space, and Obi-Wan felt his own breath trip. A hand curled around Obi-Wan’s neck, tilting his head up, to meet Anakin’s mouth coming down. Firm lips on his, used to wanting, used to taking. Obi-Wan lifted a hand, unsure if he was going to push Anakin away or pull him closer; never knowing, because the moment his fingers touched Anakin’s shoulder there was a—

Anakin is just so – Anakin, here. I mean, seriously. Anakin’s an aggressive little bastard.

flash, like a spark earthing, deep below the level of the tangible

--and Anakin was staggering away, his back hitting the wall across the corridor, his hands flat on the surface. Eyes wild. "What the fuck was that?"

Obi-Wan shook his head, his hand still up, his breath tight and fast. There was something burnt in his head. Too bright, too quick to be seen, but—

How much do I love this part? A whole, whole lot.

I read in a lot of fandoms, quite a few of which have the concept of destiny to one extent or another, but I’ve never seen it used so much in fic until Star Wars. There’s just something about Obi-Wan and Anakin – everything we’ve seen in six movies, plus, you know, Ewan McGregor and Hayden Christiansen’s portrayal of the most in love Jedi ever – that makes it seem like they’re destined to be together. And it is some pretty spectacular circumstances that throw them together. Which is not that it showing up is a bad thing; I’ve seen it so often that it’s just another facet of personal canon for me. Not seeing it throws me out of a fic.

"For a moment there," Anakin said, "I was sure I knew you."

*bursts into tears* Because they’re The Team, and seeing them separate and apart is almost physically painful. And the not knowing…

It was gone. Whatever it had been. Gone entirely, leaving this lingering unease between them in the corridor. Obi-Wan lowered his hand. The door was cold against his palm, reassuringly so. "Go back to your celebration," he said, lacing the words with the barest hint of compulsion.

Obi-Wan: when uncomfortable, resorts to Jedi mindtricks! Awesomely, canon.

Anakin didn't need much convincing. He strode away down the corridor. Stopped at the top of the stairs and looked back, but Obi-Wan was staring at the wall.



Dreams. Dreams he could almost grasp, almost hold in his hand, knew enough to know that Anakin had been in them and when he'd looked at him there had been love and hope and joy and pride, but also fear, anger, violence, an anguish that plummeted so deep it was as though there was no bottom to it, and he could fall forever. It felt like a decade of his life - more - in one instant, and he woke gasping.

OH, BABY.



Obi-Wan hadn't been going to ask. He didn't ask. Shmi just served up breakfast and pointed him towards the hangar.

Even with that, he was not expecting to see what he did when he poked his head around the door of the hangar. Which was Anakin lying beneath the starfighter, parts and tools and what seemed to be random items of junk strewn around him. Obi-Wan came inside entirely, closed the door carefully enough to make it go click.

Beautiful image. I’m really fond of Anakin as mechanic because it defines so much of him – all he wants to do is fix things, but it’s not as easy to fix people as it is to fix objects – and I wish we’d seen more of it in canon. There are a couple scenes in AotC where it’s really cemented – Anakin with Watto and Anakin with Padmé after he’s slaughtered the sand people – and I understand why there’s no Anakin as mechanic in RotS (no room in an already overstuffed script, for one), but it really is a facet of him I don’t think is covered enough in fic.

Anakin's foot twitched. "That you?" he called, ringing off metal.

It has to be Obi-Wan, logically speaking. Anyone of Anakin’s friends – or Watto – would have made more noise coming in; anyone seeking to sabotage the starfighter or hurt Anakin (come on, he’s a champion podracer who’s also the classic underdog by virtue of being (a), a slave, and (b), human. There’ve got to be sabotage attempts occasionally) wouldn’t make the acknowledging click that Obi-Wan does. Obi-Wan isn’t the type to come in loud, and Anakin realizes that; he’s also not the type to come in without warning.

…look, I analyze way too much.

Obi-Wan considered. "For some value of the term 'you', ah, yes?"

"Yeah, you," Anakin confirmed. There was a clank, and he swore.

Obi-Wan took a seat on a crate near the ship. Still couldn't see anything of Anakin above the ribs, for the curve of the ship's hull. Still, the fact that he was here at all was surprising. "I didn't expect you to be down here this early," he said.

Anakin does seem like a sleep-in-late person normally, doesn’t he? On the other hand, the one example we have in canon (or is two?) is that he’s an early riser, but that could just be because he’s having precognitive nightmares. I could also see him as an early riser, though; he doesn’t seem like the type who likes to sleep. Hmm.

On the other hand, Obi-Wan is by long habit an early riser, but he prefers sleeping in late, even if he seldom gets the chance to do it.

"I haven't slept yet." He pushed out from beneath the ship, his grin broad and cheerful, a smear of grease on his forehead. "Never do, after a race. Then the parts got in, so I figured I might as well get to work."

"Very good of you." It was easier to be around the boy today. He wasn't as... as bright, for want of a better word. He was bearable. Not likely to make him do anything stupid. He watched Anakin pick up a gadget, apparently at random, and heave himself up onto the body of the starfighter, propping a panel open with his shoulder. "Can I help?" Obi-Wan asked. Anakin gave him a surprised look, and Obi-Wan shrugged. "It's not as though I have anything else to do."

Anakin grinned. "Sure. There's a hydrogrip over there," he waved a hand. "Get in underneath and hold the inverse pressure on the flux coupling."

Obi-Wan picked his way across the floor. "I know what a hydrogrip is," he said, fishing it out of a slither of other tools. "But can I have the rest of that in Basic?"

"Incompetent assistants!" Anakin bellowed from inside the guts of the ship, but Obi-Wan thought he was laughing.

I love this part. They’re so comfortable together, and I think that’s what they were, really, in the pieces of canon we never saw. Before the war, during the war – in the movies, we only see them at times of great emotional strain.

Just like he thought most of the swearing emanating from wherever Anakin was working on the starfighter probably wasn't directed at him. And he thought that once he got involved, things seemed to move quicker. Or maybe it was just that he had something to do, now. Once they'd finished with the flux coupling, there were connections that needed checking, and diagnostics to run, the results slowly starting to make sense.

Granted, the results probably say things that make Obi-Wan want to swear and say, “What is this? No, really, what is this?"

Obi-Wan was re-tuning the sensor array - fiddly work - when Anakin's head appeared around the hatch, gravity pulling his hair up on end. "So are we just not talking about it?" he asked. "Is that how we're dealing with this?

That is also an excellent mental image. Dee rocks at perfect character imagery, seriously.

When Obi-Wan looked up, Anakin was grinning, but there was the shadow of something sharp in his eyes. And actually, Obi-Wan had been doing rather well at forgetting what the boy had tasted like. "I thought it might be best," he said.

A Jedi, talking about something? Shocking. Simply shocking. Something like that would never happen, honestly, Anakin.

"This experience talking?" Anakin asked, grin broadening, and it was actually hard not to return it. "You get propositioned often?"

"No," Obi-Wan admitted. "Not really."

"Can't think why not," he said, and disappeared.

Because you have to be a very certain type to proposition a Jedi. As far as I figure, there are two types: there are the bored Coruscanti trophy wives (or husbands) and there are the thrill seekers. Neither one is very likely to appeal to Obi-Wan. I mean, obviously there are going to be exceptions, but otherwise it boils down to “who the hell is crazy enough to proposition a Jedi?”

Obi-Wan heard him slithering up, over the hull, the low resonance of his feet on the surface. He stared at the sensor array, trying to remember what he'd been doing. This was ridiculous. No Sensitive, no matter how strongly the Force was with him, should be able to do this to a Jedi Knight. With an effort of will, Obi-Wan drew serenity around him. Found where he'd been up to. Pay handsomely, he remembered the boy saying. He wondered where Anakin had spent the night, not sleeping. "What do you do with the money?" he asked, unsure whether he'd been intending to.

I hardly need to say this, but Anakin is Obi-Wan’s weak spot no matter the ‘verse. He’s like a weed. He gets in the cracks and breaks them open, and nothing Obi-Wan can do will ever change that.

Laughter from somewhere above his head. "Podracing's an expensive hobby. You think those things build themselves?"

Contrast. Canon Anakin probably wouldn’t even consider it.

Obi-Wan realised he didn't quite approve. He couldn't think why. He'd been on planets where far more reprehensible acts were a regular occurrence. A way of life.

Later, in the afternoon, Obi-Wan thought, though it was hard to tell the time, they started on recalibrating the system. Anakin perched on the hull of the starfighter, manhandling the mechanics, while Obi-Wan got the relative comfort of the cockpit, slightly uneasy at laying hands on the wires and dials behind the control panels.

Oh, God, yes. Is anyone who isn’t a mechanic ever comfortable with touching things that might go boom? Or not even just mechanics, computers without even opening the things up. I mean, it might go boom if you click the wrong button! Or cooking, or chemistry, or hell, percussion equipment – look, I play saxophone, percussion equipment is weird.

"So do you work for the Republic?" Anakin asked, entirely without precursor, though that was nothing less than Obi-Wan had come to expect.

As the meaning of the question sank in, Obi-Wan felt his guard go up. Realised it had, really, been down. "What makes you say that?"

Now that says something. Because a Jedi’s guard should never be down, and Obi-Wan’s is, because he’s thinking like our Obi-Wan, canon Obi-Wan, who wouldn’t dream of being on-edge around his Anakin.

"Well, this ain't a cargo ship, and you're in a hurry, which adds up to criminal or government to me." He grinned absently, shoulders set as he twisted something Obi-Wan couldn't see. "I gave you the benefit of the doubt. Set it to six."

Who else wants to see criminal Obi-Wan?

"You're too kind," Obi-Wan said, fiddling with a dial.

A spark shot; Anakin didn't even flinch. "Well, that's not it." He reached in again. "So?"

"So?" Obi-Wan repeated.

"Do you work for the Republic?"

He hadn't really thought Anakin would be dissuaded or distracted. The boy had a wide streak of stubbornness. Or not so much stubbornness as persistence. "Yes. In a manner of speaking."

What, not the old standard, “From a certain point of view”? And he’s not lying to Anakin straight-out, he’s just not giving him all the information. Anakin would probably know if he was flat-out lying, but a piece of the truth, well – that’s not going to ping his radar as hard or at all.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to spread it around. Try it at seven." Obi-Wan flicked the dial one notch further, and for a long moment, nothing at all happened. "Right," Anakin said, all business-like satisfaction. He slid down the hatch to the next connection, and Obi-Wan began connecting wiring to the dial. "How do you like that, then?"

I’m really fond of the ordinary alongside the extraordinary – in this case, the mechanics alongside Obi-Wan and Anakin’s wary conversation. It usually is how things go in real life; one thing piled on top of another.

"Working for the Republic?" Obi-Wan blinked, fingers stilling on wire. "It's... what I do. Who I am. What I've always done."

"Depressing," Anakin said, bracing a foot against the edge of the open hatch. "Sounds like being a slave. Just another life. Do as you're told. Let's start this one at three."

Obi-Wan set the next dial absently, watching Anakin. "Do you dream of freedom?"

Anakin might very well turn around and ask him the same thing, because really, Anakin has a point. Obi-Wan was born and raised a Jedi; Anakin was born and raised a slave. Both are in service to something else. Anakin doesn’t dream of freedom because it’s not something he can imagine; Obi-Wan would never think of being released from the Order as freedom. But just because he’s not a slave in name doesn’t make him free, either.

"I never dream." Anakin was frowning down into the ship, focussed on his work. He glanced up with the twitch of a smile. "But no. Too abstract. I want things I can grip. To get off this dustball. Pilot a pod in one of the big races, the pro ones, like Fire Mountain." He leaned back, hands bracing against the starfighter's hull. "Once I thought I'd like to be a pilot, but I've met enough pilots now to know that it's just more people telling you where to go, what to do. What's the point?" The frown deepened as he looked at Obi-Wan. "Why am I telling you all this?"

Another callback to the RotS novelization, where Obi-Wan tells Yoda and Mace Windu that abstract concepts mean nothing to Anakin.

Before Obi-Wan could answer - could find an answer - there were voices outside, and footsteps. A shout, and the door opened, two heads poking around. Obi-Wan recognised them from the race and celebrations yesterday, friends of Anakin.

"Vano!" Anakin called with a laugh, sliding down off the starfighter.

He jogged across to the door, one of the heads disappearing, the other one saying, "The fuck, man? How are you so chipper?"

Madly in love with the fact that Anakin has friends, that he’s happy. That there are people who know him and are comfortable with him. That he’s normal.

In a moment there was a huddle of youth at the door, a babble of voices. Obi-Wan picked out little beyond tones, and the occasional lament for the problems of having a hangover on a planet with such bright sunlight. He was watching Anakin - an easy task, since the boy was a head taller than his friends, standing out even in their midst. Animated, laughing, pointing and jeering.

I’m really caught by the image of Anakin surrounded by all his friends and Obi-Wan standing alone, outside.

He'd thought, yesterday, witnessing Anakin cradling himself in the Force, that the boy would have made a good Jedi. If they'd got to him in time, of course. A terrible waste, never finding him when he was young enough for the training.

But was it? No matter how young they'd found him, could even the Jedi Order ever have moulded this - this, scuffling with his friends, shrieking laughter - into the proper shape? (Just another form of slavery, he thought.)

Always a bad sign when Anakin is more mentally stable as a slave than he is as a Jedi. You know. Just a thought.

He had a sinking feeling that the answer might be yes. An even worse feeling that he was viewing the whole business entirely the wrong way. An idea that really, he needed to get off Tatooine as soon as possible, and not just because his brethren were fighting without him halfway across the galaxy.

Anakin looked over his shoulder, back towards the starfighter, and Obi-Wan looked down, catching his reflection in the silver hull.


go to part two