Work Text:
Diion surfaced from his morning meditation and looked down at the list he had written while immersed in the Force. His talent for short term precognition served him well as the Jedi Order’s quartermaster, letting him anticipate unique needs and issues that would crop up during the day and prepare to meet them ahead of time. Every morning he took time to meditate on the flow of the Force for the day ahead and note down what he had come to call "the shopping list". Peculiarly, he never received visions or hints of events, only of the objects he would need to distribute—but he had learned through experience to extrapolate what might transpire.
Today's list read as follows:
Six bolts of synthleather and two of vochkar wool: there must be an initiate trip to Ilum coming up, and several of the initiates were undergoing growth spurts and would need new parkas.
One set of pliers and a chisel: either a prank, or a padawan lost their bead string down the drain again and didn't want to tell their master. On second thought, likely both.
Teething toys, made of...rubber and titanium: oh dear, that was for a baby wookie, better add a packet of headache tea for the crechemaster too.
Chainsaw: Diion squinted at that one for a long moment. Perhaps one of the garden trees had a cracked limb that needed to be removed? He made a note to be particularly careful of who he handed that off to.
Three new bedframes, small: initiate slumber party got too rowdy.
One baby harness and leash, size very small: oh, someone was going to try taking Grogu on a walk again. May the Force be with them, they would need it. He hoped they had the good sense to stay in the Temple, or half the Temple Guard would need to be dispatched to comb the entire district.
Scale oil, two bottles: either Oppo was shedding something fierce this time or a trandoshan got stuck in a vent. Diion cocked his head and decided to bring out four bottles, just in case.
Six buckets of paint, various colors: he sincerely hoped those paints would not be used together—his human colleagues repeatedly assured him that the colors matched, but to his eyes they would never be anything but headache inducing, and he couldn't even get headaches. He didn’t care what that was going to be used for as long as he never had to see it.
Four sets of stilts, three very short, one set very long: he hoped that was for agility training and not Mace trying to start up the stilt dancing troupe again, last time had been an unmitigated disaster. A very funny disaster, but still.
One airhorn: someone was planning revenge well in advance of a friend's post-Knighting bar crawl. Diion wondered if they might be interested in taking a rotation as his assistant. He appreciated that kind of forward planning.
A bottle of ale from Diion’s personal stash: sithspit, that was for Shipmaster Tschckt, xie was the only one who drank it, which meant that Knight Skywalker had crashed another ship.
...and yes, the last item on the list was five cloaks, size 13, humanoid: Obi-Wan Kenobi strikes again.
Diion indulged in an irritated hiss before rising to begin gathering up the necessary items to have on hand for whenever they would be needed today.
Everything but the cloaks. Kenobi could wait for those.