"Obi Wan, promise me you will train the boy."

Heavy.

He felt too heavy and too fragile. This was never how Qui Gon Jinn was meant to be.

"Yes, Master," was all he could say, breathless and scattered after his battle with the Sith Lord. After defeating a Sith Lord.

The man's eyes gazed up at him, a strange sort of clarity filling his vision. As his final effort, his Master brushed tears away from Obi Wan's face.

"He is the chosen one. He will bring balance," his voice grew softer, more distant. His Padawan could do little else but listen with every ounce of respect he had taught him. Qui Gon's eyes faded elsewhere.

"Train him…"

Obi Wan woke up to the muted ambience of the shelter.

At a quick glance, he noted his companions still slept, heavy and peaceful in their makeshift bunks.

Silently, he sat upright, rubbing his bandaged forehead. A familiar dull ache swelled in his chest.

That memory hadn't resurfaced in a long time. The scar kept him company on occasion. Often, it would linger when he revisited places like Naboo. Sometimes, during his talks with Duchess Satine, they would reminisce of their adventures together. His former Master would eventually come up in conversation, followed by quiet remarks and fond memories. Then by nightfall, he would be alone with his Master's last wish echoing in the Temple hallways. This time, perhaps Dooku's taunting had affected more than he realised. Or perhaps, it was a warning.

As Obi Wan stood up, Anakin roused, taking his bed sheets with him. Instead of chiding him or prodding him awake, he decided to let the 'Hero with No Fear' have a lie in.

For as many mistakes and mishaps that had occurred the previous day, Anakin had proven himself capable of putting his mission first. The little boy from Tatooine had come a long way from his days of running away from Sith Lords. He'd even come a long way from the days of running towards them to take them by himself. Finally, Obi Wan saw him express humility and actually ask for help, something he'd always struggled to teach him. He hoped that was the reason that his memory of Qui Gon returned. As a reminder that he'd taught him well enough to get them through this.

He knew they'd have difficult choices to face that day. Between The Republic and the Shili system, his duty as a Jedi General bound him to one option. With Ahsoka and the intel stuck down here, they were putting the entire war campaign at risk. Without the support of Shilli's army to mount a rescue operation for their troops, that left them with one choice. They needed to escape Shilli.

He knew that. The knowledge gnawed away at him, chewing at his every desire to stay and save his Commander and the rest of their troops. But he had to be the one with restraint. He knew this could be their only course of action. He also knew that he'd have to convince the other two of that.

A yawn erupted from behind him. Anakin stretched his arms up, his fingers just grazing the roof.

"Good morning," Obi Wan said.

"Morning," he croaked in response, feet flinging off of the bed. He turned to check on Ahsoka one bench over, her arm flung over the edge of it.

"Morning," he said again in her direction.

Ahsoka grumbled beside them, digging her head further into the pillow.

"C'mon Padawan, time to rise and shine," he tried again.

She waved him away with a limp hand, making vague noises of acknowledgement.

Anakin Skywalker, frowned. Already alert and energised he strolled over to his student. He winked at Obi Wan who folded his arms and leaned back against the table, ready for the show. In one smooth motion, he yanked the pillow out from underneath her head.

"Hey!" She said, snapping awake and pushing herself upright.

The two older Jedi stared at her, amused at her sudden peppiness.

She looked down at the messy den of bedding. Then back to her Jedi masters. As her brain caught up, she conceded.

"Alright, I probably deserved that."

"Uh huh," her Master replied unleashing his trademark grin. "Now that we're all awake, we can discuss our plan of attack."

Obi Wan felt the phantom pains of a headache begin to take hold. He wasn't quite ready for another argument yet, especially not so soon after fighting his last one.

Just as they started chatting, a knocking arose from the hole above the ladder; loud, loud, soft, soft.

The three looked up before staring at each other for a course of action. Answering knocking doors wasn't the best way to hide from your enemies.

A muffled voice echoed through the floorboards.

"It means, you can come up now!" Said the old woman from the night before.

Ahsoka turned to Anakin for permission. He gave Obi Wan a shrug.

"I suppose you two wouldn't say no to a spot of breakfast first?" His former Master offered.

Anakin and Ahsoka were obviously taken aback at Obi Wan's relaxed attitude. After the two exchanged a bewildered look, both nodded their strong approval. "We'll talk tactics later then," he agreed.

The three made their way up to the hut, grateful for the space. Although the remnants of the chilled night still hung in the air, the beams of sunlight pouring through the windows were warm to walk into. A wafting smell of smoked meats drifted to them from the kitchen. Odd scraps of red and tan cloth were hung around the room, each embroided with dark pink designs.

The woman wasn't there. Obi Wan tensed, shamefully thankful for the lightsabre at his side. But Ahsoka, with the utmost focus, walked over to an intricate drawing on the wall, framed by a piece of fabric. On it, was a very young girl. She had bright red skin and white facial markings. She was captured mid giggling fit, sat on a woman's lap. Her arms were wrapped around child's sides, smiling broadly.

The familiarity was almost ghostly. Her own village was on the other side of the planet, far from the red and orange trees of the Northern Hemisphere. Still, it was almost as if that little girl could've been herself, had she squinted at it.

"My daughter," a voice came from above them. Ahsoka jumped, spinning around to face the woman, with matching smile lines carved into her wrinkled face. She descended from the stairs curling around the tree that sprung up on the edge of the room. Anakin inched closer to Ahsoka whereas Obi Wan held still, watching the moment unfold.

"She was the pride and joy of our village. Such a presence…" her voice trailed away to another time, as she walked to stand next to Ahsoka, lost in the image. "My village detested me when I let her go. But I knew that she was destined for more than what I could give her here."

The familiarity from before snapped into clarity as she did a double take staring at the depiction of the child. The white facial markings, encircling her eyes. The elderly woman gripped Ahsoka's arm with an aged intensity. Her smile broadened.

"I'll gladly welcome any Jedi into my home. For my little Shaak."

Thanks for reading another chapter! Here's a little break from all of the hardcore action in the last few chapters. Time to get introspective...

P.S. Seeing all of your reviews is awesome, really makes my day so thank you