“I really don't think he's going to listen to you, Aunt Mara,” Anakin intoned softly, running a hand through his shaggy brown hair. They had been waiting with a false appearance of patience for the past hour, and his nerves were beginning to run thin, along with Jacen's. But getting things done was. “Oh, he'll listen,” Mara ground out. “For the good of his own furry little hide, he better listen.” “I've heard Mom rant about his idiocy and pride for years,” Jacen added. “I think he's too stupid to know what's best for him.” “It's whatever you make it to be.” “Continue,” Parck gestured.
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