This certainly wasn't the life Obi-Wan had expected for himself, either, although after the war, it wasn't as much a shock as he might have expected otherwise. Hiding rankled somewhat, but he knew it was their best - really their only - option at surviving. And survival was their first priority.

He wishes... well. If wishes were fishes, the Mon Calamari would rule the galaxy, as the saying went, but still. He wishes Anakin hadn't made so many of the decisions he had. He wishes he had made different decisions. One cannot go back to correct the past, however; merely move forward and do the best they can for the future.

The future, in this case, being two tiny children, dependent on him and Padmé to protect and care for them.

At the moment, that means trying to cobble together a sort of early-warning system to alert them of danger while they stay here. As much as Obi-Wan can rely on the Force to detect anyone approaching, he's aware that it isn't foolproof; he's also aware that with two infants strong in the Force, he's going to be getting minimal sleep, and using a considerable amount of energy hiding them. Best to have a back-up detection system in place, in case he's too tired and winds up missing something.

When Padmé finds him, he's hunched over a myriad of random parts, from cannibalized droids to power cells that may or may not blow up if he tries to use them, and wires trailing from everything. Muttering darkly and swearing more than a Jedi Master probably should, even if it's only to himself under his breath.