The life and pride of a Jedi, a lightsaber could do a lot of things. Dispatch enemies, cut open doors, short out alarm boxes, work as a flashlight, or just generally intimidate when the situation called for it.

Hunt small game? Not so much.

Obi-Wan sighed and sat down in the grass, his weapon hanging unlit and useless at his side as he watched the third furry beast of the day bound off though the green. He laughed even as he wished for once in his life for the convenience of a crude, uncivilized blaster.

Sneaking up on these little creatures certainly wasn't working, and they darted off before he could even attempt any kind of Force hypnotism.

He groaned and lay back among the soft earth, imagining how nice some roasted meat would taste. I could try just throwing my saber at them? Using it like a club? Boomerang? His chuckle rose into the afternoon sky, a warm stretch of blue and clouds that promised another evening of beautiful weather.

Most of the rations he'd kept stockpiled on the fighter had survived the wreck, though it'd taken two days to find them, sweeping his hands gently through the waist-high fronds as he walked in growing circles around the impact trail of the ship. He'd also found a small spring this way, bubbling quietly behind a screen of somewhat taller, bamboo-like plants.

So starving was not an issue and would not be for a long time, but Obi-Wan was certainly ready for a break from reconstituted stew and freeze-dried vegetables. For the last week he had even made food the topic of his morning meditation, choosing one of his favorite dishes that calmed him and imagining it in every possible detail.

This, and recurring dreams of the child made of light- little Anakin, of so long ago- had soothed and helped him through his first weeks on this world. They had kept him steady when, despite the peace and beauty all around him, guilt and regret came to stalk him in the small hours of the morning.

Those two feelings still followed Obi-Wan, wolves that would never quite give up his scent, but they now hung far back enough they no longer flanked his every move.

Today, this morning's meditation focus had been a particular type of Alderaanian flatbread he'd once had during a mission there, a gorgeously light and flaky circle of bread dipped in a sweet, bright orange honey and sprinkled with a type of mint.

With nothing in particular to do and nowhere to go, Obi-Wan had been able to spend quite a while on imagining the dish: the deep brown of the flatbread crust, fading into gold and then white, the rich scent of the honey and the tiny jewels of green leaves floating in the amber. The softness of the bread and the light, sweet aftertaste it left.

Now, lying in the sweet-smelling grass and watching clouds drift by in the afternoon sky, he stretched and enjoyed the sun on his face, trying to decide if he would go work on taking pieces off of the fighter. It was a hard, tedious job with the simple tools he had, but every piece he removed he could use for the shelter he was slowly transforming the wreckage into.

His days had become simple, almost absurdly so. Sleep, eat, meditate, explore or attempt to hunt, work on the shelter, eat, watch the stars, sleep. His wardrobe was down to an open tunic and pants, his robes once again packed away, but his saber stayed on his hip since the local little furry beasts and their friends couldn't exactly report him to the Imperials for being a Jedi. He could practice his forms all he wanted in this beautiful place without fear of being heard or seen, the comforting weight of his blade right there as it had been for so many years before all of this began.

In this way, the Force had been kind to him, he'd decided shortly after arriving.

True, there was no way to fix the fighter, and no settlements could be seen anywhere around him on his island or the others in view. How long he might be here and the implications of that, he had decided not to think too deeply about just yet. But he was grateful at the same time for his unintentional exile in this place. With no way off of this planet and no possible way to help, it was much easier for his mind to temporarily let go of his duties, to make a much needed retreat from the horrors that had driven him here.

The only thought currently on his mind was how he would spend the rest of his day.

Work on the shelter, lazy. Come on. Sighing, Obi-Wan stood and walked back toward the wreckage, the tallest silhouette in the field that spread out before him. A few low rock piles stood in the grass here and there in the distance, but his ship was certainly the tallest landmark in view.

And it was the wrong shape.

Obi-Wan paused, bringing his hand up to shield his eyes and look again. He'd removed the remains of the engine shielding, a twisted piece of metal over half the size of a man sticking straight up off of the wreckage, a week ago.

Now it looked like the shielding was back atop the wreckage, a simple silhouette from this distance that had no business being there.

He frowned at it, blue eyes narrowed. "What the…"

It moved.

It was there and suddenly gone, disappearing down behind the pile of metal. Obi-Wan jumped back, saber lit before he even realized he'd done it. Startled, he shut it off and clipped it back onto his belt.

Someone, or something, had been standing on top of his ship. Watching him.

"Wait!" he called out as he ran back, a constant low tide of green fronds slapping against his legs. Without slowing, he jumped and ran up the side of the wreckage, skidding to a halt atop it and whirling to look for the person he'd seen.

No one was there. No man, local equivalent of a man, not even a wild animal.

Nothing.

"What?" he whispered, bewildered, as he studied the green plain around him and the utter lack of places to hide. The Force pounded in his mind, bright and clear as the sun overhead, his battle instincts returning in a second like a forgotten book suddenly opened.

The person was close. Impossibly close.

I brought you something.

He spun, lighting his saber and dropping it in a defensive line across his body in one smooth motion even as his heart started to pound. Whoever this was had spoken to him through the Force but he couldn't see him. There was nowhere to hide out here. Where in all the Sith hells were they?

Don't be scared. I'm right here.

He sighted down past the bright blue line of his saber to the ground below.

The dream child stood there, without the warm glow that had wreathed him before but the same little boy all the same. No more than four or five years old, all smiles and a wrapped piece of food in his small hands.

The edge of it stuck out from the cloth, white and cream against a dark brown, as he held it up toward the man towering above him on the ship. "It's flatbread! Not fancy stuff and we don't have honey, but it's pretty good. I asked Kalei to make some after I heard you thinking about it really loud."

Obi-Wan lowered his weapon and shut it off, speechless as the blade hissed out of sight. The child grinned up at him from under a mop of blond hair, his eyes the faded blue of a late autumn sky and familiar in a way the Jedi couldn't quite place. "We can share!"

"Where did you come from?"

"The caves. They're down on the cliffs. We can see the sea and it's really pretty at night."

"I see," Obi-Wan said, hooking his saber back onto his hip as he continued to stare at the boy. "I, ah, haven't been down the cliffs yet. Didn't know there was a way down." Have I lost my mind?

"It's ok. What's your name?"

"Obi-Wan Kenobi..." he answered faintly, wondering if this was somehow another dream as he climbed down to kneel in front of the boy and take the wrapped food from him. It was cool and heavy in Obi-Wan's hand, the cloth rough against his palm and the scent of freshly baked bread rising up to him.

This was not a dream.

"What's your name, child?"

The boy stood tall, flush with the pride of all young children who are about to answer a question about themselves. "Luke. Luke Skywalker."