Anakin admittedly hadn't been sure if his grandfather would want to meet up. It would've hurt, sure, but it's not in his nature to force relationships. Even if he wanted to get to know who his grandfather had been. Is now.

Someone bad at small-talk, apparently. Anakin can sympathize.

He smiles. "Thanks. I got it for the workshop in the backyard, to be honest."

It's a nice workshop, though he hasn't had much time to tinker what with everything going on.

Anakin steps aside to let his grandfather in. The house is, so far, pretty plain and needs some minor repair. Already, he's replaced some rotten floorboards and stripped some moldy wallpaper from the walls. But it's going to take a little more than that to make it look nice.

"I noticed. But maybe with some examination and experimentation, I might get something out of them." Anakin shrugs. "I've got the time."

The mention of an R2 unit makes him perk up a bit.

"You have an R2 astromech? My uncle does as well."

It's unlikely that it's the same one. Right?

"Yeah, he looked after us when we were little. He mostly spends his time helping out my mom now." Anakin grins. "I had no idea they'd belonged to you once."

He imagines 3PO had his memory wiped at some point, since he's terrible at keeping secrets. As for R2, it's hard to say. He's an odd droid.

Anakin leads them further into the house, to a living room of mismatched furniture with dirty windows looking out on a garden that desperately needs weeding. He winces slightly when his grandfather asks about a memory wipe.

"I think so, otherwise he would've said something to us." Anakin feels a twinge of sympathy. He knows firsthand how much a droid can be part of a family. "Sorry."

But that's another fascinating piece of information. He quietly files it away next to the bits and pieces he's collected over the years. He wonders how much of his and his siblings' talents could be inherited. Can that kind of thing be inherited?

"What made you build a protocol droid?"

It makes him smile, a little. Threepio ended up serving his family for generations after, even if he doesn't remember it all. Knowing he was built as a gift from a loving son to his mother makes Anakin think even more fondly of Threepio.

(Now he feels a particularly bad for the time he tried to replace him. Or threatened to reprogram him.)

But it does raise a question.

"I thought Jedi didn't know their parents."

Anakin turns over all of the new information in his mind, trying to filter through all of the new information. He has a lot of questions, but he settles on one.

"Who's Master Jinn?"

Clearly he's someone important to both his grandfather and Obi-Wan.

Anakin breathes in sharply. The fact that both Anakin and Obi-Wan can restrain themselves around Maul, who killed someone important to them both, must take a lot of fortitude. He's not sure he could do the same to anyone who killed Luke.

"I'd like to hear about him. And your mother. Whenever you feel up to it, I mean."

There are so many gaps in their history that Anakin never even knew about. And here he thought he was the one to be filling in the gaps for his grandfather.

Anakin catches the holocron easily, unable to mask his surprise. He hadn't expected a gift of any kind-- he'd barely expected his grandfather to show up in the first place. He holds it out in his hand and opens it, looking even more startled when the beginnings of a training video start to play.

When Ezra told him that Anakin Skywalker had a padawan once, he'd found it hard to believe. He couldn't picture his grandfather as a teacher but here he is, measured and patient and clear-spoken.

He ends the video by closing the holocron and sliding it into one of his pockets. Softly: "Thank you."

Anakin shrugs. Nothing the older Anakin is thinking of even occurs to him. "You didn't have to do anything."

But he relents before it can get too awkward.

"I promised you answers and I've just been asking questions so far." He gestures at the sitting area, inviting his grandfather to sit down.

"Do you want anything? Food, something to drink?"

His manners are rusty, but he's trying.

"Sure."

With that, Anakin retreats to the kitchen. Filling up a water glass doesn't take long, but he dawdles a little, sensing that his grandfather might need a bit of extra time. Still, he doesn't take too long. He emerges from the kitchen and hands a glass to his grandfather.

"Here."

Then he sits down in one of the chairs. He places his forearms on his knees and leans forward, the picture of someone ready to listen. He's a patient listener, so he doesn't prompt his grandfather. He simply waits.

Anakin's eyebrows raise slightly in surprise, but he recovers pretty quickly. His dad is a pretty safe topic of conversation. As long as he glosses over a lot of how his parents met.

"My dad's name is Han Solo. He's a smuggler-turned-revolutionary. The best pilot in the galaxy, before my sister came along."

He pauses, thoughtful. "He's the sort of person who cares about people over ideals."

Anakin shrugs slightly.

"Maybe not enough people have seen you fly."

He knew piloting was in his blood-- Luke is well-known for his skill too. He wonders how much he inherited from his grandfather. More than he realized, apparently.

A slight smile. "Too bad we can't fly here. It'd be nice to fly with someone who can keep up."

Granted, the Rogues are good pilots. But flying with another Jedi is different. And he's intensely curious to see how good his grandfather actually is.