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It wasn’t that Siri minded being assigned a mission with Obi-Wan. Far from it; she enjoyed working alongside him. It was this mission, in particular, that was making her... uncomfortable. Some unidentifiable emotion had settled in her chest. And it grew stronger every time she watched Obi-Wan and Duchess Kryze together. Watched the woman curl her hand around his arm, press close to him when she thought no one was looking.
But she ignored it, putting it aside to focus on the mission.
She knew they had a history together. When he was a Padawan he’d been assigned with Master Qui-Gon to protect her from the insurgents threatening her planet. She knew that.
What she hadn’t known about was Kryze’s attraction to Obi-Wan. It was... obvious. Even to her. Not that it bothered her. It didn’t. What he got up to in his free time was no concern of hers. And if she was sharper with her tongue than usual... well, so be it, then. It didn’t interfere with the mission. He was the Negotiator. He could handle the personable aspect of things.
She would focus on other aspects. Gathering information. Listening to whispers. She could blend in well enough with the Mandalorians if she changed out of her unisuit and left her cloak and lightsaber behind. It would involve the proper style of clothing and hair, but that was an easy enough matter to take care of.
For now, though, she walked slowly behind Obi-Wan and the Duchess as they toured the garden, putting a bit of distance between them. The invitation, she was certain, had been for Obi-Wan and Obi-Wan alone. But he’d turned to her and made some comment about how she could see how it compared to the Room of a Thousand Fountains; she’d found herself dragged along before she could do more than open her mouth to decline.
Kriff, the temptation to slip off, see if she couldn’t find one of the pieces they were missing elsewhere, was painfully intense. Anything to remove herself from... from this.
Exhaling softly, she attempted to ignore the unidentifiable emotion tightening her chest.
But she ignored it, putting it aside to focus on the mission.
She knew they had a history together. When he was a Padawan he’d been assigned with Master Qui-Gon to protect her from the insurgents threatening her planet. She knew that.
What she hadn’t known about was Kryze’s attraction to Obi-Wan. It was... obvious. Even to her. Not that it bothered her. It didn’t. What he got up to in his free time was no concern of hers. And if she was sharper with her tongue than usual... well, so be it, then. It didn’t interfere with the mission. He was the Negotiator. He could handle the personable aspect of things.
She would focus on other aspects. Gathering information. Listening to whispers. She could blend in well enough with the Mandalorians if she changed out of her unisuit and left her cloak and lightsaber behind. It would involve the proper style of clothing and hair, but that was an easy enough matter to take care of.
For now, though, she walked slowly behind Obi-Wan and the Duchess as they toured the garden, putting a bit of distance between them. The invitation, she was certain, had been for Obi-Wan and Obi-Wan alone. But he’d turned to her and made some comment about how she could see how it compared to the Room of a Thousand Fountains; she’d found herself dragged along before she could do more than open her mouth to decline.
Kriff, the temptation to slip off, see if she couldn’t find one of the pieces they were missing elsewhere, was painfully intense. Anything to remove herself from... from this.
Exhaling softly, she attempted to ignore the unidentifiable emotion tightening her chest.
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