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Feemor, Obi-Wan and a contingent of other Jedi and corpsmen shuffled along a single file line onto their transport.
He shared a look with his padawan.
This would be a long flight.
Generally, Jedi took public transit, traveled with planetary officials or left Coruscant on small ships owned and operated by the order. But every once and awhile the ExplorCorps found a way to save fuel and move multiple members toward their missions.
Like this excursion.
For this particular trip, the transport would “hop” from Courscant to Abredago-Rae, then along the Rimma Trade Route, dropping off and picking up Jedi and corpsmen along the way.
Jedi traversed the Rimma Trade Route en masse once or twice a year, and Kohna had been a support pilot on the route during her training.
“I think we’ve gotten lucky, padawan-mine.”
Obi-Wan frowned up at Feemor.
“Why do you say that, master?”
Feemor pointed at the side of the hull, nearly scrapped free from the original paint, but still clear in design, if one knew the look of it.
“This is an old Chandrilan private cruiser! That means semi-private bunks and, if they haven’t converted it, a full kitchen for our meals.”
Obi-Wan perked up, as Feemor expected. Warm meals were always a boon when on mission.
Corpsmen Rhiet Vishanelli was at the top of the walkway directing their passengers to their rooms. He greeted Feemor with a smile that Feemor returned.
The corpsmen had served a few trips with Kohna, and they’d met when the pilot invited Feemor along to a crew night out in Coruscant. They’d also spent a very pleasant evening together on another such night, then parted as friends in the morning.
They were also both members of a Temple servchat where members of the order only posted pictures of pretty sunsets and sunrises, and sometimes artworks based on said sunsets and sunrises. Feemor could not remember which one of them joined the servchat first, just that whoever joined first sent the other the invitation to also join.
“Feemor, good to see you!”
“Rhiet, good to see you as well! May I introduce my padawan, Obi-Wan Kenobi?”
Obi-Wan straightened, executed a perfect half-bow greeting, and Rhiet and Feemor shared a grin over the padawan’s head.
“It is always a pleasure to meet another of my master’s friends.”
Rhiet chuckled and then gave them their room assignments.
It did not take long for Feemor and Obi-Wan to store their things in the room they would soon share with four other beings. One bunk seemed to have already been claimed, and the other three were still unclaimed.
“Do you know the even better part of Chandrilan private cruisers?”
“Better than semi-private sleep spaces?”
“Better than semi-private sleep spaces.”
“No, what?”
“The dining areas also function as viewing areas.”
Obi-Wan’s eyes lit up. He grabbed Feemor’s hand and dragged him out the door.
“Come on, we need to get a good spot before takeoff!”
Feemor, laughing, allowed himself to be pulled about by his padawan.
******************************
For perhaps the first time in his life, Obi-Wan was impressed with a design aspect of a ship.
He and Feemor sat side-by-side at a table staring out the large windows to their left at Coruscant as the crew moved the ship through the many checkpoints. The seats even had the required safety harnesses so they could remain in their seats once they left atmo.
“It is quite the view, isn’t it?”
Obi-Wan turned and smiled at their tablemate.
Master Maslo-Skaff was a Sullustan Jedi master with a cybernetic eye, from what Obi-Wan could see while they were seated, other cybernetic parts as well.
“I don’t know if I’ve ever seen Coruscant from this particular distance. It is amazing!”
Master Maslo-Skaff smirked and looked at Feemor.
“Ah, so your padawan didn’t steal a Temple speeder to go on an above-lane joyride with his friends like his master?”
Feemor groaned and let his head fall back against the edge of his seat, likely too hard judging by his flinch. Obi-Wan was very distracted from his master’s pain by this extremely surprising information.
“Master!”
“I told you then, Master Maslo-Skaff, it was all Kohna’s idea! I was just bullied into going along!”
Obi-wan snorted, but he knew Kohna well enough now to believe it.
Master Maslo-Skaff leaned over the table toward Obi-Wan, but his eyes were still on Feemor. Mischief twinkled around him in the Force.
“And yet Pilot Kohna said she only did so in order for her dear friend to charm an apprentice from the visiting Green Jedi. An apprentice who very much was snuggled up with your master in the back of the speeder.”
Obi-Wan laughed while his master blushed and tried to fight his own smirk.
“Feemor! Obi-Wan!”
The trio at the table turned to see Chuuli and her relatively new padawan Emra Suneul. The padawan tried to hide behind her very expressive, and shorter, master.
Chuuli tugged the youngling behind her to their table, and when she was close enough to see him, she greeted Master Maslo-Skaff as well. Chuuli sat herself and Emra down in two of the seats on Master Maslo-Skaff’s side of the long table.
They shared light, easy conversation as the dining area began to fill with other passengers with the same idea, slowly coaxing Emra into their conversation. It was nice, to be on this side of such a conversation, helping a younger, anxious padawan feel welcome and included.
Their table eventually filled with others, both old friends to those already sitting at the table and relative strangers.
But they all belonged to the order, and therefore they all belonged to one family.
“So, so, so, where is everyone headed?”
The question came from a knight that Obi-Wan had not met, and was obviously addressed to their entire table.
Master Maslo-Skatt sent a sense of "attention-me" into the Force.
“I’ll be investigating some thefts on the Wroona Spacedock. Some of the trade guilds there are accusing each other of espionage. Or it could be a third-party.”
“Or the first theft could have been a third-party, or a party outside the guilds, and they all took it as an excuse to turn on each other.”
Maslo-Skatt huffed a long laugh
“Yes, exactly! And when dealing with the Wroosa trade guilds, it is all too easy to say the wrong thing, and have them put down their differences and turn against you instead.”
Chuuli shook her head.
“It is an admirable quality as long as you are not the one on the other side of that unity. May the Force be with you, Master Maslo-Skatt!”
He just laughed again and motioned to another seatmate. They were a young knight with a darker complexion.
“I’m on my first mission as a Seeker! I’m joining my first co-Seeker in the Vondarc System, and I believe we’ll travel the Enarc Run from there, if the Force guides us to do so.”
“What sect are they from, your partner?”
“Tavra Coven.”
Seeker trips that within the Republic tended to go much better when guardians and communities were given options, so the Order regularly organized Seeker missions with other trusted Force-sects, mostly for the sake of those communities with whom they met, but also to strengthen the bonds between Force-sects within the Republic, especially since the Jedi were often asked to act as a representative or ambassador before the Senate for all Force-sensitive organizations.
According to Siri, it was a bit exhausting, more so when the sect in question is not well-known to the Jedi representative called to speak for them, often Adi Gallia, Siri’s master.
Siri had been spending a lot of time in the Archives and comms relay centre.
“What about you and your padawan, Master Koth?”
The zabrak master sat at the far end of the table on the same side as Obi-Wan and Feemor.
He leaned forward so he could be seen by all his table mates.
“I received an interesting call from a contact I met last year on a mission. She’s a former pirate, but she recently set up shop on a waystation one hop off Rima. I didn’t get too much information from her since it is an unsecured comm, but a few of her old acquaintances have been sharing some interesting stories.”
Obi-Wan felt a flutter of amusement from his master, but he decided to ignore that to instead listen to the next mission briefing from a Master Halsey, a Roonan male investigating some complaints on Eriadu from the well-connected House Tarkin.
That particular family had sent a pirate captain and her crew to slowly boil alive just a few years prior, and obviously gained many admirers from the Senate for their…decisive action.
Another, a member of the EduCorps, was going to produce an educational program for younglings on Ghorman, a knight was taking the interchange to the Corellian Trade Spine to find a kyber counterfeiter, and three AgriCorps members were heading to Sullust to help increase food output in their cities.
“What about you and your padawan, Feemor?”
Feemor smiled down at Obi-Wan (ugh, he would never be as tall as his master) before answering.
“We’re headed to Yag’Dhul. We’re bringing a classified puzzle to a Givin code-breaker.”
Obi-Wan was rather excited for the mission. He’d never been in an environment so extreme as Yag’Dhul.
“What about you, Chuuli, where are you and Emra going?”
“Eventually, we’ll end up at Utapau. Something ancient has gone missing.”
“What’s gone missing?”
Chuuli placed her folded hands on the table and leaned forward with a grin.
“They don’t quite know.”
“Oh! That is an interesting mission!”
*********************************
The Givin have evolved over millenia to survive Yag’Dhul, and Feemor and Obi-Wan were not allowed down on the surface without participating in a two-hour safety training related to the multiple layers of protective equipment they would wear while moving between the arrival station just above the planet and the subterranean cities.
Even then, they would be required to keep certain protective gear on their person at all times, as well as detailed maps and instructions of what to do in case of a breach.
Feemor was pretty sure it was not overkill, so that was rather terrifying.
He’s certainly more concerned than Obi-Wan, who has done wonderfully with his Soul Healer over the past 18 months, and has now moved to the developmentally appropriate phase where he seems to believe he is infinite and immortal.
Kriff, he made Feemor feel old, whenever he wasn’t making Feemor feel too young and inexperienced, like if he looked around, perhaps some older, wiser master would turn up and tell them both what to do.
It was happening less and less, but now the boy’s hormones have started to make their true debut and Feemor sometimes feels like he is back at Point Aurek.
He watches the back of his padawan’s head as they begin removing the most restrictive, and protective, of their loaned gear now that they have arrived at Dodecapolis.
Feemor hears Obi-Wan gasp, then he turns to look back at Feemor.
His eyes are huge in his face, pleasure and surprise radiate from him in the Force.
“Master, look!”
‘I’m looking’, he wants to say. ‘Right now, I can picture how you were as a crecheling’, he wants to say. ‘Your eyes were that big and blue just like that the day we met’, he wants to say.
Feemor doesn’t say any of those things. Instead he turns to look out at Dodecapolis, and his breath catches too.
He and Obi-Wan are not unfamiliar with the concept of underground cities. Large portions of their home-planet are, practically, functionally, underground cityscapes.
But the Givin have made their subterranean city something special. Feemor’s untrained eye can tell that there are some differences in design, likely structures made in different ages with architects reflecting the tastes of their time. There is still a uniting principle of angles and geometric… understanding, perhaps, throughout the entire city.
The idea strengthens as Feemor and Obi-Wan travel by semi-open transport through the city to the Tesseract, where the Body Calculus met. They were apparently being shown a scenic route through the city, a suggestion from the Yag’Dhul senatorial staff on Coruscant.
“We were informed of the many ways those from Coruscant will be impolite.”
The statement was said with a good amount of cheer by their guide, a Givin being named Nisail Elain before they entered the transport.
Feemor could feel Obi-Wan’s internal screaming. The padawan hated to be impolite in general and he’d entered a phase of life where awkward situations seemed to make him feel a bit like dying. Feemor placed a hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder.
“Thank you for your understanding. Could you share the greatest offenses we should avoid while we make our way to the Tesseract?”
Nisail made a noise Feemor believed to be a laugh.
“I have scheduled such a conversation to occur when we arrive since the Body Calculus will be in meetings until 42.7 minutes after our arrival. While we move through Dodecapolis, I will share amusing anecdotes about the population.”
To be fair to Nisail, they did share stories about Dodecapolis, and those stories were very amusing. Nisail began with an explanation of the many mathematical institutes they could see from the transport.
Their guide explained that these institutes are not schools, but neighborhood social clubs that compete against one another in different tournaments. Nisail said his own neighborhood association put forth a particularly strong poetica mathematica team, though there were also high expectations for this year’s youngling robotic detritus team.
Feemor was admittedly charmed.
Through their bond, he nudged his padawan.
Obi-Wan poked him back, then largely took over the conversation with Nisail.
Outside of the actual parameters of their mission, Feemor wanted Obi-Wan to handle a good portion of the diplomacy, at least as much as he could without them both offending their host or making it seem as if Feemor was incredibly rude. Other masters may not have as bluntly stated their goals with their padawan, and there absolutely were times Feemor allowed Obi-Wan to discover what he was supposed to learn through the lesson itself, but he personally did not see the point in making the teenlings entire life into a surprise test.
Life would provide such circumstances all on its own.
Feemor looked out over the city and imagined his padawan all grown, attending fancy receptions and the like, charming and clever. And Feemor could go back to solely scavenging around the galaxy for trinkets and disasters, no more fancy dinners with impressive beings for him!
He felt his padawan’s attention drift to him, but Feemor waved him back with reassurance through their bond.
Feemor had many years left before he needed to worry about something like that. And many more fancy and pointless dinners and such to attend.
Finally, they arrived at the Tesseract, where they received the promised briefing from Nisail.
The most immediate offense would be to not exchange some “very basic” mathematic calculations upon meeting, something Feemor and Obi-Wan probably would not be able to do. Nisail promised they would remain to at least take on part of this burden, but they would also know the correct apologies to give for their rude behavior.
Feemor held back a vocal sigh, though the sense of it must have resonated through their bond, since he could feel Obi-Wan’s amusement.
Oh, the missions one accepted for their diplomatic-minded padawan.
*********************************
“We come with a puzzle.”
Nisail had been right, of course, the Body Calculus did find them rather rude, but Obi-Wan believed this was the correct approach to regain their footing. If the Body Calculus already found them rather rude, then Obi-Wan’s preferred approach to diplomatic talks was more or less already off the table.
Instead he would charm them, and lean on his youth.
Obi-Wan was also pretty sure the Body Calculus would be intrigued by a challenge.
They’d been led into a receiving room off to one side of the main meeting hall where the Body Calculus met to conduct business. For a room Nisail had described as rather drab, Obi-Wan found it lovely even in its simplicity.
The room appeared to be a bland red-brown tan when first entered, but was actually covered in many small triangles and rhombuses of different reds, browns and yellows, each edged in a metallic color, all fitting perfectly together like a very complex puzzle. Even the lighting of the sparsely decorated room were small pinpricks of light, hardly noticeable within the pattern, that somehow filled the space without drawing attention to any lighting features.
The members of the ruling council looked to one another, and evidently shared some form of facial expression that was beyond Obi-Wan’s ability to read. He let himself close his eyes for a second longer than a blink, and centered himself. Obi-Wan allowed the very edges of his sense of self to brush against the other beings in the room, like the gentle back-and-forth of water on the shorefront of a deep inland sea, with his true self protected deep below the gentle surface.
They were intrigued, but still a bit wary, and few were still holding onto their offense toward these two strange outsiders.
Feemor cleared his throat and placed a hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder. He could feel his master’s approval and support.
“Yes, a challenging system master key was discovered during a search of ancient Force-related artifacts. The Order has approached other slicers and programmers to understand the key, but there is a mathematic component that has proven difficult.”
There was a murmur again from the group of Givin, and one of the members of the ruling council dressed in a bright green and shining-blue robe stepped forward.
“It is our understanding that in such cases, mathematic components are often handled by droids or computers elsewhere in the Republic.”
Feemor smiled and adopted what Quinlan jokingly referred to as ‘the humble jedi’ pose, feet shoulder-length apart, hands together just above the waist, easy smile or species equivalent on one’s face.
Obi-Wan had noticed Feemor often fell into this pose when he needed to be particularly convincing in an official setting.
“Most systems able to complete highly complex mathematic reasoning lack the creativity and individuality of a droid or sentient. And while a droid does have the kind of creativity required to seek creative and unexpected solutions, they largely do not have the deep understanding of mathematics.”
And both those options can be hacked, Obi-Wan thought, but did not say.
Feemor was leaving out quite a bit, and Obi-Wan was sure he and Feemor had been told less than the whole story of the system key, a failsafe should anything happen on their journey.
Another member of the Body Calculus, this one dressed in fabrics of deep, but muted red and blue made a sound very similar to a human clearing their throat.
“And you have brought this system key here?”
There was some concern in the Givin’s voice, and their general posture.
Feemor’s smile turned a bit more genuine.
“No, the system key itself was protected by a similar, but less complex numeric system. That was sliced, but it took quite some time. Our experts thought a re-creation of that system would be an acceptable timed challenge to gauge the skill of any potential programmer for the system key.”
That was true, from what Feemor and Obi-Wan had been told, but the vague description of how members of the order accessed the system key led Obi-Wan to believe there may have been some particularly Dark forces involved as well.
And that may be the true reason the system key itself had not traveled with them to Yag’Dhul.
Obi-Wan could feel the growing excitement within the Body Calculus.
Nisail was right. The Givin do like competitions.
Another member of the Body Calculus clothed in browns and bronze clapped once and the other members turned to them.
“I believe I speak for the Body when I say we are most intrigued with this proposal. We will now meet to discuss proper conditions for such a competition. Please, allow your assigned guide to give a tour of theTesseract, then bring you to your assigned quarters for the evening. Tomorrow, the competition will begin in earnest.”
By the time Feemor and Obi-Wan were led to a more comfortable meeting room within the Tesseract, with rolling pull-up desks and vaguely comfortable chairs Obi-Wan imagined were much more comfortable if one had a harder exoskeleton than Obi-Wan or Feemor.
A display system in the center of the room showed a proposed schedule for a planet-wide competition, a quick two-week turnaround from the announcement that night to the naming of one to three selected winners.
“As the end result is the opportunity to take part in a project, not simply recognition, it is understood that more than one winning contestant is often preferable.”
Feemor had smiled at the explanation.
“That sounds perfect! Just tell us what you need, and Padawan Kenobi and I will do our very best.”
‘Satisfaction-excitment-agreement’ suffused the room.
*********************************
The Givin peoples ability to throw together a planet-wide competition was truly impressive.
After their first meeting with the Body Calculus, Feemor had told Obi-Wan he wanted the padawan to put together a paper and presentation about how the people of Yag’Dhul were able to so quickly bring about such a competition and provide an overview on the administrative and cultural components allowing for such a quick response.
Feemor warned Obi-Wan that once they were off-planet, a second step of the assignment would be to compare and contrast planet-wide competitive events on Givin with those on other planets.
Obi-Wan had happily dove straight into the project, though there had been one night when conversation had strayed uncomfortably to Telos.
The years between Obi-Wan’s time there, and the work done with a Soul Healer, had helped heal the wound, but even old, well-cared for scar tissue could cause problems years from the original injury.
“I am still going to use Telos as a comparative.”
“Oh? You don’t have to, padawan-mine.”
“I know. But it is the planet-wide competition I know the most about. And there are some interesting similarities between the two, things I wouldn’t have expected.”
“Should I ask now, or wait for the final report?”
Obi-Wan had laughed, and his remaining melancholy had faded. In its place there was a determination there. When his padawan had turned to look at him, Feemor’s heart had turned over in his chest.
Still, at his core, Obi-Wan was the same youngling Feemor sat down next to on the Temple roof. That fire was still there, the quick mind too.
And, to Feemor’s constant worry, the reckless nature that to outsiders all Jedi had, but really was more of a 50-50 split, Feemor on one side and too many of Grandmaster Yoda’s lineage, including Obi-Wan, were on the other.
Master Leeun had been the one with a reckless heart in her lineage, with a trio of more cautious padawans. Though once again those who were not Force-sensitive likely would not have felt it, how sometimes the Force seemed to almost hold still and wait for you, and instead of the Force moving you, it was you who moved the Force.
Feemor was one to pause, just for a second in, in those moments. Master Leeun was one who would stride forward. And his padawan was one who would leap.
All that was true, and Feemor believed would remain true about his apprentice.
That wasn’t what gave Feemor pause as they sat next to one another, looking out over the city from the large window of their shared room, discussing Obi-Wan’s choice to include Telos in his assignment.
Feemor could see that his padawan had matured.
Obi-Wan was now closer to being an adult than a child.
Feemor had let Obi-Wan feel his pride, and careful bundled away his sorrow, promising himself a later call to one or both of his padawan-sisters to cry about how teenlings shouldn’t be allowed to grow up, it should be outlawed, the order had to do something about it.
Maybe he would even send an overly emotional message about it to Yuned, because Yuned would be uncomfortable about anything related to the actual raising of children but he would also find it very funny, and it amused Feemor to work Yuned into a state where the man was both happy and socially uncomfortable.
The competition itself was in turns fascinating and incredibly boring.
The process of the competition, and how the people of Yag’Dhul so quickly embraced the entire idea of such a niche competition, was interesting, and Nisail told Feemor and Obi-Wan it was exciting for his people as well to find a new challenge.
“It would not be surprising if this becomes part of the Frequency Indicator.”
There were two calendars on Yag’Dhul, the calendar used by all Republic systems, and the Frequency Indicator, which incorporated the shifting of Yag’Dhul’s system and complex equations related to time.
It was this calendar that set when holidays, competitions, and even elections took place on the planet.
Feemor understood it was an honor to have a competition even be considered for entrance into the Frequency Indicator, and made note to include this in his final report so that the order could, possibly, continue to take part in the festivities in the future and grow the connection between the Jedi and the Givin.
At the end of the two-week competition cycle, three winners were named, with the first-prize winner named the project lead.
After a night-long celebration, Feemor and his padawan joined the trio on the planet’s arrival station. He was pleased to see Merr’ka waiting to greet them. Merr’ka was an older Mon Calamari pilot who was not a member of the order, but regularly contracted with the Jedi to pick up and drop off their charges.
“Knight Feemor, it is good to see you!”
“Good to see you too, Merr’ka! May I introduce my padawan, Obi-Wan Kenobi?”
Obi-Wan once again completed a perfect half-bow greeting, along with a hand gesture Feemor knew was used to signify good will among Mon Calamari on Dac.
Merr’ka made a noise of dismissal.
“No need for the hands and such to me. My line has spawned on new worlds for generations. I first swam in the depths of Saya, myself.”
Obi-Wan obviously felt on the backfoot, but was too intrigued to let his embarrassment linger. Another reason Obi-Wan would do well as a diplomat.
Genuine curiosity could sooth most unintentional slights in Feemor’s experience.
Feemor clasped Obi-Wan’s shoulder.
“I’m sure Merr’ka would love to answer any questions you have as soon as we’re all on his ship.”
Merr’ka made another noise of disagreement.
“Nay, the Givin fellows will be taking a diplomatic to Coruscant.”
Merr’ka gestured to another ship berthed nearby, a diplomatic cruiser often used to ferry the important, but not so important, guests of the Republic administrative branches to and from the Core.
“Alright then. Where are we headed, my dear captain Merr’ka?”
The pilot leaned back and gave a pleased ‘chuff’.
“You’re going to Vekura! I’ve got a pack for you both I was given at a waystation a few clicks back, when I accepted the assignment.”
Feemor gently shook his padawan’s shoulder.
“Well, Obi-Wan, ready for the next mission?”
Obi-Wan grinned up at Feemor.
“Of course, master, no where I’d rather be than-”
He looked back at Merr’ka. The being gave a chortling laugh as he answered.
“Vekura.”
“Yes, Vekura, no where I’d rather be!”
Feemor scrubbed his padawan’s hair as they followed Merr’ka up the gangway into his ship, all three laughing.