Star Wars - Kenobi

Calwell present. “Everything’s still here?”
    “We might have fed ourselves a little off the shelves—but it’s a small price, no?”
    Annileen walked up to her friend. Even for a Zeltron, Leelee looked flushed; the party had been going for a while. Annileen recognized her friend’s husband, Waller, in the mix, telling his own tales from the assault on the Tuskens. “Who’s with your kids?”
    “The guard droids,” Waller called out, toasting with an empty mug. “Plug-eye’s finished. The droids are all we need!”
    “All we need tonight, ” Orrin said, clearing his throat loudly from behind the bar. He was a startling sight, having donned his spare set of fancy city clothes from the office—and an apron over them. Host and bartender, he refilled glasses with a smile. He spotted Annileen and nodded to the empty bottles. “I’m keeping track.”
    “No, you’re not.” Annileen approached. “Give me whatever’s left,” she said, settling wearily on a stool at her own bar.
    Orrin was already pouring. “You were out there, weren’t you?” He laughed. “Annie, you’re a marvel. What was it Dannar said? You can’t spell adrenaline without Annileen.”
    “Dannar never could spell,” she said, taking the glass. “That’s why he hired me.” She downed the drink in three seconds and deposited it on the bar in front of him. “Now what did you think were you doing, taking Jabe out there?”
    Orrin’s smile crumpled for a moment before a young voice saved him. “Don’t blame him, Mom. It wasn’t his idea!”
    Annileen glared as Jabe stepped in from outside. The boy paused before Orrin. “Wyle Ulbreck’s gone, sir.”
    “Blast,” Orrin said, shaking his head. “I’d hoped to rub the big victory in his face.” He looked around the room and raised his voice. “Everyone knows the Settlers’ Call works now, right? This place is the proof!”
    A ragged, drunken cheer went up. Annileen ignored it. She slid off the stool and blocked Jabe from reaching the happy crowd. “Jabe. You have to stop.”
    “Stop what?”
    “I’m too tired for the list,” she said, clutching at his shirt. “But let’s start with the gorge. You were killing!”
    “Killing Tuskens!” The boy waved his hands theatrically. “They’re not civilized, Mom. They’re not anything !”
    “You don’t know that,” Annileen said. “They’re not womp rats that you can shoot for fun!”
    Jabe wrenched away from her grasp. “They killed Dad. They tried to kill all of us, today!”
    “I know, but—”
    “But nothing. I at least did something.” Anger flared in the young man’s eyes. “Did you do anything after Dad died?”
    Annileen froze, staring at her child. He looked more like Dannar every day, even as he acted like someone she’d never met. “I did do something after he died,” she said, finally. “I opened the store the next day.” In a chillier tone, she added: “Like he would have wanted.”
    Jabe pushed past his mother. She didn’t stop him. He paused at the bar to speak to Orrin in a loud voice, for the benefit of his mother. “With Zedd laid up, you’ve got an opening on your lead vaporator team. I’m available.”
    “No, he’s not,” Annileen called out from behind him.
    Drying his hands on a dishtowel, Orrin smiled awkwardly at the boy. “She calls the tune, son. Sorry.” Orrin nodded to Annileen, who didn’t respond. A moment later, Orrin leaned over and spoke in lower tones. “There’s other ways you can help me, I’m sure.”
    Annileen threw up her hands. “You can help him by cleaning up whatever’s left of this place tonight. I’m done.” Grabbing a pre-packed meal from behind the counter—and an open bottle—she pushed past her son and trudged through the crowd to her living quarters.
    The sound from the celebration continued to reverberate throughout the Claim and into her household most of the night, but she didn’t hear much of it. She ate wearily and dragged herself to bed. As her head hit the pillow, Annileen had one last thought: that she had not seen Kallie since her return. But her body rejected any further worries for one day, and her mind surrendered itself to sleep.
    Meditation
    I don’t know what you can see from where you are, Qui-Gon, but I doubt you missed today’s trip.
    No, once again, I wasn’t intending for it to be a big production. You don’t have to tell me what our mutual teacher used to say. I don’t crave excitement or adventure—or