“Obi-Wan,
you will take your Padawan and go to the Milky Way galaxy. There,
you will study the people of the planet Earth. This mission
is for research purposes, so you must by all means blend in.”
“Yes,
Master Windu.”
“You
will spend the next two standard weeks on this planet, immersing yourselves
completely in the culture.”
“Yes,
Master.”
“Dismissed.”
Obi-Wan
and his Apprentice were packed and ready to go in a matter of minutes.
Soon, they were jetting out of the Coruscant atmosphere and setting a
course for Earth.
What
seemed like forever later to the young Anakin (but was merely seven standard
hours), they were breaking through Earth’s atmosphere and scaring the
bejeebers out of half the population of Beijing as they landed.
Once
safely on the ground with their starship hidden out of sight, the pair found a
kiosk on one of the bustling streets and bought new clothes, then rented a hotel
room and changed, hoping to blend in, though with Anakin’s braid and ponytail,
it seemed quite hopeless.
Immediately,
they were out and about in the Chinese city, watching the habits of the people
as they moved hurriedly from place to place. After several
hours of this, the pair realized how incredibly hungry they were.
And
so, taking Master Windu’s advice, they followed the local custom and ducked
into a small restaurant that seemed to be much less crowded than all of the
others surrounding it. Anakin had a hard time reading the
menu, but thanks to Obi-Wan’s extensive research on languages, they found
something that seemed much more appetizing than most of the establishment’s
offerings.
They
decided on Lo Mein and rice. Obi-Wan ordered, and minutes
later, their food sat steaming in front of them. Sticking out
of each bowl was a set of wooden sticks.
“Chopsticks,”
Obi-Wan replied to Anakin’s questioning stare.
“What
do you do with them?”
“Eat,
of course.” To that, Anakin replied with a snort and a mean
look. Obi-Wan chuckled and reached for the bowl of rice,
instantly able to use the chopsticks, even on the tricky rice grains.
Anakin,
however, was not so lucky. He struggled with the lo mein,
trying to mimic his Master, but failing miserably. He tried
using one in his left hand, then one in his right, then one in each hand, but
every time he tried, the noodles would slip out of his grasp.
“What
was that, Master?” Anakin asked after hearing the elder Jedi mumble something.
He repeated himself through the same mouthful of rice, and Anakin seemed
to understand better this time. In response, he leaned
forward over the small table and whispered to his Master, “Master…I can’t
use the Force in here…it will give us away!”
Obi-Wan
shook his head and pointed to the silverware on the edge of the table as he
swallowed the remainder of his rice.
“The Forks, Anakin… Use the Forks.”