Obi Wan's POV

Dinner had been a quiet affair and after cleaning up Obi-Wan was sitting on the couch. His military datapad was in his hand as he went over reports. Reeft received a report sent from the STFW two days ago. They were in orbit of a system suspected of Invid activity. As of an hour, ago there wasnt anymore contact from the STFW.

Usually, no news was good news as there also had not been any word of a space battle. This did not ease the young man's worries about his crew. They were closer than any blood bonds. It was only together that they had survived. If they faltered on their teamwork for a second they would have died.

Pushing the thoughts away he went through the engineering reports. Progress was being made on a full ship shadow drive. It would give them an edge against the Invids. To be able to use a shadow drive from the main ship would save countless lives.

Currently, it was not yet operational. The engineering core believed that if given a few more weeks it would be ready for testing. They also stated a minimum of six shadow pilots would be needed to operate it. Less could be used but it would drain the pilots immensely. The more the better in this case.

Once the reports were done he moved onto the damage to his own ship. Weapons systems were still down as was the change system. Fold and communications were back online. Contact had been made directly with Grand Admiral Hunter who was happy to hear from them.

Rick never liked the Shadow Pilot program. He did everything within his power to make sure the pilots were free to do as they wished when the war was over. The problem was that the war never really ended. There were still Invids out there hunting those who used protoculture. All they could do was defend systems to the best of their ability.

Obi-Wan brought up a holographic image of his fighter. With a swipe of his hand, he expanded it out to see all the internal parts. From the latest scan, Reeft had done he could see the gears that needed replacing. They were burnt out by laser fire from his space battles. That was what was hindering the change system. He would need to replace the gears and the wirings.

His weapons systems needed total replacement. Rebuilding the laser system would take quite a bit of time. He didnt have the credits for the parts he needed. Options were trying to build it out of junk, racing for credits on his cyclone, or waiting for the next supply run.

Racing for credits would be the shortest but if he got caught he would be in a world of trouble. Junk parts would be a temporary fix but eventually, it would break down again. Supply runs only came every few cycles and were unpredictable. The best option would be to combine racing and junk parts for a patch job until Hunter could send the standard equipment.

A voice inquired from behind him, "What do you have there, youngling?"

Obi-Wan replied not looking up from the datapad, "Its the remaining things that need to be fixed on my fighter. Currently, the weapons and change systems are offline. The change system shouldn't be that difficult to fix. It's the weapon's system that I'm worried about. The parts arent easy to come by. I could do a patch job but that will only hold for so long."

"What are your options?"

Obi-Wan sighed, "Patch job, come up with the credits, or wait on the next supply shipment. Right now finding a way to come up with the credits seems like the best plan."

Dooku questioned sounding genuinely curious, "How do you plan on getting credit?"

Obi-Wan gave the barest of flinches as he murmured, "Racing most likely. Before you decided to take me on as your padawan that was how I got credits and kept my skills up on my cyclone. There are simulations for riding a cyclone but ita, not the same as actually using one."

That and all of his men thought he was insane when he rode a cyclone. He was the only one who would ride one without a helmet or combat jacket. What was the point after all? The jacket was heavy and disrupted his turns. The helmet obscured his view of his surroundings. Even with the force that could be fatal.

Looking back at his master he noted the amused and slightly intrigued look, "Are you any good? Normally I wouldn't condone it but such things are good for undercover work. Racing takes skill and faster reflexes than most padawans possess. Then again you are a combat pilot. That alone attests to your skills."

A small smile crossed his face as he said, "My cyclone is in the third hanger. You want to see?"

Dooku's POV

At first, there had been surprise and disbelief when Kenobi said that he raced for credits. Most races unless sanctioned by the government were illegal. Especially if the prize was a sizable amount. At twelve this child should not have the reflexes to race well enough to take on adults. Combat pilot or not.

So he agreed to see the other use his cyclone despite the late hour. To be honest he was curious to see what the machine was. He was slightly disappointed to find only what appeared to be a briefcase in the hanger. They had to use his clearance to get out onto the streets of Coruscant.

Following young Kenobi through the streets was enlightening. The boy was comfortable with the less suitable areas. He wouldn't want to find out that a child was in this area. No matter the reason. It was too likely that they would end up in one of the slave trader's hands.

Kenobi found an abandoned alley that would give him maneuverability. It was less space than Dooku was comfortable with but he kept his mouth shut. He was curious to see where this went.

To his surprise, much like the watch, the briefcase was a deception. How they managed to compact a bike that he would never understand. Once it was all folded out Kenobi began to check it over. He had to wonder if all shadow pilots were this meticulous. If so it was little wonder that they were as good as they were made out to be.

Kenobi said seemingly satisfied, "There. It seemed to be in working order. No leaks from the protoculture tank. I'm ready."