Three days had passed since Ezra had joined Seventh Sister. Through those three days, he had made a bound with his new Master, and had been travelling across the galaxy, doing any missions available.

On the second day, he had regretted what he had done, but the Seventh Sister got rid of his doubts. Now, it was day three, and they were both on their next mission; stopping some rebels from getting Imperial crates. He had a feeling he knew who those rebels would be, but if it was them, he could prove to his Master he was loyal only to her.

The Seventh Sister sat in the cockpit, hands on the wheel as she flew through space. Her thoughts went to her new Padawan, and she couldn't help but smile smugly.

Ezra wasn't old enough yet, but when the human male turned eighteen, he would be very useful. She knew that if they both had a child – maybe children – together, that child would be as powerful – maybe more powerful – as their parents.

But until then, she had three years to earn Ezra's love and undying loyalty, which was more than enough time.

The Inquisitor walked into Kanan's room, a bowl of steaming soup in his hands. Kanan was sitting up in his bed, but still wasn't strong enough – mostly mentally – to do anything too physical.

Sitting beside Kanan, the Inquisitor handed him the bowl, which the human took gratefully. "How are you feeling?"

"Better than yesterday," Kanan answered, taking a sip from his soup filled spoon.

"Good. If you're feeling up to it, I would like to know how far you are in your Jedi training," the Inquisitor said. "I need to know how much you have left to finish, so you can properly become a Jedi Knight."

Kanan stared at him, eyes wide and mouth hanging open, barely holding onto his spoon and bowl. "Ah… W- what?"

The Inquisitor rolled his eyes. "I am going to help you finish off your Jedi training, but after we find Ezra. Should I speak slower for you?"

"No, no," Kanan said quickly, slight disbelief in his voice. "I'm just… Shocked. You're not joking, are you?"

"I do not joke around," the Inquisitor said, amused, and then added with a mischievous smirk, "sometimes."

"I have this strange feeling that there is a very interesting story behind that," Kanan said, raising an eyebrow, and then slurped some soup, making the Inquisitor stare in disgust. "What?"

"That sound, it's disgusting," the Inquisitor muttered, glaring at the human male, who chuckled. "And what, pray tell, is so funny?"

"Just… You sound so posh, it's funny," Kanan chuckled, then sipped at his soup.

"I am not some royal idiot," the Inquisitor huffed, looking away from the other male and pouting, jutting out his lower lip as he crossed his arms.

"Sure, whatever you say," Kanan laughed, then stood up with the bowl still in hand. "Well, better pop this away."

The Inquisitor stood up as well, and followed after Kanan to make sure the male didn't fall, who was walking to the main room.

Hera looked up, and said, "Cikatro wants us to get some Imperial crates from Chandel; he's paying us very good money to do it."

Kanan frowned. "Chandel? Why there?"

Hera shrugged. "I don't know, but apparently whatever these crates contain, it's something serious. What do you think, Inquisitor?"

The Inquisitor shook his head. "I am not sure, but something tells me it's a trap."

"Well, there's only one way to find out," Zeb said cheerfully.