Star Wars - Kenobi

Annileen said, rotating the tap outward to become a spigot. “And it’s not Orrin’s. It’s mine. Dannar put up the first GX-9 in the oasis here, before he died. Your canteen, sir?”
    Ben reached into his cloak for his canteen and gave it to her. He watched as she filled and returned it. He steeled himself before drinking the cold water. He gasped nonetheless. “Amazing,” he said, rubbing icy lips with the back of his hand. “It’s even better than Orrin’s, if that’s possible.”
    “Thank my husband.”
    “I thought—” Ben capped his canteen. “I thought he had passed?”
    “He did.” Annileen gestured to the blinking controls inside the open panel. “Dannar adjusted this vaporator once, years ago—just fooling around. He got what you’re drinking there. We’ve never changed the settings. Orrin’s been trying to replicate them all over the valley.”
    “He took the idea and ran with it.”
    “I guess so.” She turned back and gestured to the store. “Dannar didn’t mind. We had enough worries without getting into the farming business. You know what they say—don’t dig for treasure. Sell the shovels.”
    She turned back toward the store, suddenly downcast. “I guess I’ve been out here long enough,” she said. She beckoned to Rooh. “Let’s get you fed and watered, girl.” The animal trotted toward her. Ben watched them for a moment before kneeling to gather her blanket.
    “I’m sorry to have reminded you about Dannar,” he said, walking along behind her. “Orrin said he’d stopped to help people in the desert?”
    “It was just like him,” Annileen said, leading Rooh to the troughs near the livery. She knelt to tie the eopie’s lead to a post—and stayed down, lost in thought.
    Ben studied her in silence.
    “Wait a moment,” he said. “It wasn’t just eight years ago, was it?” He looked at her. “It was eight years ago today .”
    “You’re good.” She looked up at him. “One of our locals was in the Comet Run. We were going to have a big celebration here. Dannar had gone to Mos Eisley for something special.” She shook her head. “That’s crazy, isn’t it? Send someone out for fleek eels, and they never come back.”
    Ben stood back, respectful of her moment. “I’m sorry, Annileen. I won’t patronize you by saying I know how you feel—every tragedy is different, and personal. But you can take some solace in that he was committing a selfless act—”
    “Well, Ben, that’s just it,” she said, eyes glistening. “It’s fine to sacrifice yourself—if no one else has claim to you. Dannar belonged to us—and we never gave him permission to die.” Her forehead crinkled, and she tightened the knot on Rooh’s lead.
    Ben seemed taken aback. Noticing, she stood and offered a weak smile. It wasn’t good business to depress the customers. “Sorry. It’s just the day,” she said.
    “I could leave if it’s—”
    “No, no,” she said, taking the blanket from his hands. “I’ve usually been alone on this day. Used to think it was better.” And yet I invited you, she did not say. “Maybe it’s time for a change.”
    He regarded her for a moment and then brightened, the clever smile reappearing. “You know, why not? I think, perhaps, we both could use a change of pace for a day.”
    “You have a pace?” She laughed. “I don’t even know what you do!”
    “I solve problems.” Ben prodded her toward the side door of the store. “And for this problem, I propose a strategy of mutual distraction—in which you regale me with an expert discourse on the flora and fauna of Tatooine, over lunch. I know just the place, nearby. I’ve heard a lot about it.”
    “I’d better not have to cook.”
    He held the door open. “Never fear. I do amazing things with survival rations.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN
    “WELL, WE’VE DETERMINED ONE thing, Ben. Whatever job you had before you came here—you weren’t a cook. But you tried.”
    “I didn’t try. I did, ” he said, grinning as he took the dishes. “It’s just what I did wasn’t very good. I have a friend who’s quite militant on the subject of trying.” He looked at the remains on the platter with remorse. “I could’ve sworn I remembered how to prepare gartro omelets.”
    Annileen laughed. “It wasn’t that bad.”
    “I have another friend who owns a diner,” he said, disappearing into the alcove. “He’d have fired me on the spot.” Dishes clattered.
    Annileen rocked back in the