Obi-Wan grunted as he tightened the final bolt on the vaporator's new valve. Lorna held a lamp close, its artificial light penetrating the darkness that had settled over the homestead. They had risen early and worked through sunset, determined to restore their food and water supply before retiring for the night.

"Almost…" he muttered, giving the bolt one last turn. "There. That should hold."

He sat back on his heels and wiped his brow with his sleeve. Lorna lowered the light and stood from her crouch, stretching the stiffness from her muscles.

"Should we test it?" she asked.

He nodded and stood, brushing sand from his knees. When he activated the valve, water flowed steadily into the waiting jug. No leaks. They both released relieved sighs.

"It will take time to replenish what we lost, but we saved enough in the jugs that we should have enough in the meantime. We'll just have to continue to limit bathing," he said.

"You mean I have to keep putting up with your stink?" she said, her mouth quirking into a smile.

"Well, you could always go live with the Jawas if it becomes too much." He raised an eyebrow, trying to look offended, but he couldn't help returning her smile. He enjoyed her playful moods. Though he hoped the quip was truly just in jest and that he didn't really stink. He resisted the urge to check–Lorna was still looking in his direction.

She scrunched up her nose and snorted. "I think I'll take my chances with you," she replied.

The eopie's shelter still needed to be repaired, and they'd barely had time to do any work inside the hut, but having the garden replanted and the vaporator fixed made his shoulders feel much lighter. The two of them had accomplished much working together.

They made an effective team, he and Lorna—a fact that made her inevitable departure weigh heavier with each passing day.

"Have you thought any more about how you're going to approach the meeting with the Toydarian?" he asked once they were back inside.

"Unless the Force drops three hundred peggats into my lap," she said, sitting on the bed and removing her boots, "I don't see how I can repair the ship before the meeting."

"No, that will not likely be an option." He pulled a few items out of the pantry for supper. His back protested, the muscles bunched tight from being bent over the vaporator valve all day. Wincing, he twisted to stretch it.

Lorna appeared before him, gently taking a bag of polta beans from his hands. "I'll cook tonight," she said. When she smiled at him his thoughts scattered. There was something more than her usual kindness in it, a tenderness he had never seen her direct at another. A smile that seemed to be for him alone.

"I'm fine…" he started to object, but she shook her head.

"You did most of the heavy lifting with the vaporator today. Really, I don't mind. Besides… there's something I want to try."

He quirked an eyebrow at her.

"You'll see."

She set to work before he could protest further, so he slowly lowered himself into the chair. The door's broken lock mechanism lay disassembled there, and he resumed the work of reprogramming it.

"I need to convince the Toydarian to give me some of the payout in advance for repairs," she said, picking up from their conversation before. "That compartment in the Comet may be our advantage here. The bounty hunter made it clear–whatever this shipment is, they need that specific feature." Her lips pursed to one side as she measured ingredients into a bowl.

"And the Toydarian is under pressure to get this done," he added.

She nodded. "If they are in a hurry and there aren't many ships with that capability…"

"The Toydarian will have to wait for us to obtain the funds ourselves or go through the trouble of finding another equipped vessel entirely." He stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Neither option seems likely to please the Pykes."

She smiled confidently, chopping some pallies at the counter. "That makes giving us the advance the quickest option. So, I have leverage."

His earlier concerns came creeping back up as he processed their position. "We still need to exercise caution. The stabilizer compartment, the urgency of the job–this is bigger than just spice. The Pykes will be paying closer attention to this. Even if you can convince the Toydarian to give you the advance, he may ask for something to guarantee that you follow through."

"We'll figure it out. Together," she replied with a knowing smile.

Her focus shifted entirely to the meal. He poured himself a cup of tea and sipped it in contentment, though his focus on the lock wavered. He watched as she worked through the recipe with care. Her brows knit together when she announced that the polta beans refused to soften as expected. A quiet curse escaped her lips after she added too much spice, but she quickly corrected the mistake with a splash of broth. The savory aroma of spiced lamta stew gradually filled the hut, making his mouth water.

His stomach rumbled, a reminder that he'd had little time to eat all day. He tucked into his meal as soon as Lorna set it on the table in front of him. It was spicier than he usually made the dish, but delicious.

Lorna took her bowl of stew to the bed, sitting cross-legged on it. "I wish I had asked Niko and Sinya more about this job," she said after swallowing a mouthful. "All I could think about was getting away from Coruscant and finding other Jedi. If I had been more mindful of the present, I might have learned more."

"They might not have told you, even if you had," he said. "If this job is as high profile as the Falleen implied…"

"I think they would have trusted me. At least, I'm pretty sure Niko did," she smiled fondly into her bowl of stew. "Sinya was a bit harder to convince."

An uncomfortable feeling clawed at his mind at the air of familiarity she carried when speaking of Niko, and not for the first time. What had she called him? A "shameless flirt". He remembered how she had batted her eyelashes at the Falleen, insisting Niko trusted her with the Comet because they had been… involved.

It had seemed a clever way to exploit what they knew of Niko's reputation. But her soft smile now, the way she spoke of his trust… her reaction had been far less good-natured when she'd spoken of the attention of the other male patrons at that Underworld bar. It made a painful sort of sense. She had been alone in the Underworld, and then this charming pilot had appeared, offering her escape, a friendly face where she'd had none.

He couldn't say he blamed her, but the thought prickled his mind like cold air against bare skin. He tried to tell himself his reaction was merely concern for his student–after what happened with Anakin, he had every reason to worry about a Padawan forming attachments. But even as he grasped at that explanation, the way the uncomfortable sting lingered told him otherwise.

He had no right to such feelings, he knew. He released them with a heavy sigh, but his curiosity hadn't abated.

"Were the two of you, ah," he took a bite of stew to cover his clumsy attempt at the right words. "Was there really something between you?"

Lorna looked at him like he'd sprouted a second pair of eyes. "What? Between Niko and I?"

A flicker of indignation crossed her features before settling into something more contemplative. "Niko flirts with everyone. It's just his way. But there was never anything behind it. He and Sinya were the first true friends I'd had since the Temple." She gave a small shrug and stirred her soup. "I'm surprised you'd even ask. The Order may be gone, but we are still bound by the Code."

He released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "I would not have judged," he said, choosing his words with care. "You were alone and…attachments are a natural part of being alive."

"But forbidden to us."

"Though we practice letting them go, sometimes they form despite our best efforts."

He flushed when she looked up from her soup, the attentiveness in her bright eyes suddenly intense in their observation of him. The silence that followed was thick with something unacknowledged that curled between them like the steam rising from their bowls.

"I suppose you're right," she said finally, sipping at the broth in her bowl. "Master Secura was dear to me, Master Junda and Trilla were friends. I just never really understood the appeal of…that kind of attachment."

His eyebrows shot up. "Never? No one has ever…?"

Lorna shook her head.

"Must have made those teenage years easier to bear," he said with a wry smile, leaning back and crossing one leg over his knee. Just thinking about some of the unrefined moments from his own youth made him want to crawl under his chair.

That drew a soft laugh from her, lightening the tension. "Well, there was… a boy. At the Temple. We were both fifteen or so. He had feelings for me."

"And you didn't return the poor boy's affections, I take it?"

"He was handsome enough. Compassionate. A capable Padawan." Color bloomed in her cheeks. "He convinced me to walk with him in the gardens one evening. He wanted to kiss me." Her smile became a wince, and she looked like she wanted to hide under her blankets. "I let him, but… I didn't understand what all the fuss was about. The butterflies, the sparks they talk about in holodramas… none of it was there." Her eyes darted to his then away. "I can't believe I'm telling you this."

He chuckled softly. "I did ask."

As they were speaking, a sweet, buttery smell began to fill the hut. Obi-Wan inhaled deeply, catching notes of fruit and cinnamon.

"Ah, dessert is ready," Lorna said, rising from the bed.

"Dessert?"

She pulled a pie out of the oven, the crust perfectly golden brown, its rich aroma even stronger out in the open.

"There was a woman making pallie pies in the market," she said, setting it down on the counter. "They looked so delicious, but I didn't want to make any unnecessary purchases. Then I realized we probably already had all the ingredients at home, so…" She clasped her hands together in front of her. "I hope it turned out okay."

"It smells heavenly," he said, as she set a serving in front of him.

Obi-Wan took a bite and closed his eyes, savoring the sweet taste of the pallies mixed with the buttery crust. "This is wonderful. You've quite outdone yourself."

She returned to her seat on the bed, setting the plate with her serving of pie on her lap. When she took her first bite, she closed her eyes with delight, taking her time chewing to enjoy the taste. He couldn't look away from the expression of relish on her face, not even when she opened her eyes and caught him watching her.

"It seems I've discovered a new talent," she said, holding his gaze.

And there was that disarming smile again, the one that was singularly for him, that unraveled his thoughts and quickened his pulse. A smile of his own spread across his face, and for a few moments, they enjoyed their pie in companionable silence. He noticed her expression grow thoughtful, almost hesitant.

"What about you?" she asked. "Was there ever someone…?"

His hand stilled on his fork. He had known she would likely ask him the same questions he had of her, but the reminder of Satine threatened to dim the soft glow between them, like a brewing sandstorm hazing over the sun.

"Sometimes the Force brings two people together, and feelings grow between them despite efforts to avoid it," he began, picking at the remains of his pie.

Only a few had known about his feelings for her. He had shared some of his feelings openly with Anakin, hoping to coax him to speak of his own love for Padmé. Master Qui-Gon had likely suspected during their year on Mandalore, though he never spoke of it. And then there was Maul, who had uncovered the truth and wielded it like a weapon.

"I once harbored such feelings for someone."

It was Lorna's turn to go still. She watched him, her pie forgotten in her lap. He wished he could read her expression to gauge her reaction, but her features were composed. Through her Force signature, he sensed some unease, though her barriers allowed for little else. Would she judge him for his confession?

"Who?" she asked, then caught herself. "That is, if you don't mind me asking."

"Her name was Satine." It was odd, saying her name out loud. When was the last time he had spoken of her?

Lorna's eyes went wide with growing understanding. "The Duchess of Mandalore?"

"Yes."

"But wasn't she… Didn't Maul…?" He watched her brow crease in horror as the knowledge she had of the situation on Mandalore fell into place. Many from both outside the Jedi Order and within had heard the news when the Shadow Collective had taken control of the planet.

Obi-Wan set his plate down and cradled his forehead in his hand, his elbow propped on the table.

"Yes. He killed her." His voice was steady despite the weight of the admission. "Right in front of me. He knew I cared for her. It was his vengeance."

"Oh, Ben…" Lorna said, her voice laden with sympathy.

"It was Satine that first called me by that name," he admitted. "A nickname from…happier days. In addition to providing anonymity, I thought it would be a comfort, but…"

Ever since their argument, she had heeded his request to use the alias. But he had made it out of frustration, his emotions getting the better of him. His anxiety had been mounting–over the unsettling interaction with the Falleen, over Lorna's dangerous entanglement with the Pykes. And over the growing hollowness when he thought of her leaving.

He wished he hadn't said anything. When she used his real name…Well, it wouldn't matter what she called him soon enough.

"Much has happened since then," he resumed, pausing to glance at her. Her look of genuine compassion, free from judgment or pity, made it easier to continue. "Losing her… It taught me much about attachment. About how our feelings can be used against us. But it also taught me that we cannot always choose where our hearts lead us. We can only choose what we do with those feelings."

"What did you choose?" she asked, observing him intently.

"We both chose to remain true to our own paths. She had her duty to Mandalore, as I had mine to the Order."

His brows drew together, remembering the moment Satine had confessed her enduring love for him during the mission he and Anakin undertook to escort her to Coruscant during the Clone Wars. Had you said the word, I would have left the Jedi Order, he had told her.

"If not for the war…things might have gone differently," he said.

Lorna absorbed this, her fingers absently tracing the rim of her plate. "Do you regret it? Your choice?"

"I regret that I couldn't save her." A cloud of guilt descended upon him, darkening his senses. He reached out to the Force, inviting its presence to wrap around him like a mild wind until the cloud had dispersed into it. "But no, I don't regret loving her, nor do I regret staying with the Jedi. I have grieved but…our relationship was not the will of the Force."

"And you've just… accepted that? You make it sound so simple."

"Letting go of attachment is a process, Lorna, something a Jedi must practice every day, even though it can be painful."

"I just…" She rubbed at the back of her neck. "Wouldn't it be easier to avoid attachment in the first place?"

"The heart is not so easily restrained," he replied with a rueful smile. "Part of letting go of attachment is recognizing when we have formed one, recognizing when we've become afraid of losing someone we care about."

There was a strange hollowness to his own words of wisdom that unsettled him, a nudge from the Force that he fought to ignore as Lorna pressed on.

Her fingers clenched around the empty plate in her lap. "Master Secura… she was the only one I ever truly felt close to. The only one who really knew me. But she's gone and I couldn't save her either…" Her voice caught and she swallowed hard. "I suppose avoiding attachment hasn't made my grief any easier to bear. Or my fears any easier to control."

His fingers curled reflexively around his beard. At the mention of her fears, he was reminded that there was still the question of her training between now and her meeting with the Toydarian to contend with. After the meeting, there would probably be little time to continue it.

Yet he knew that she was making progress. In their time together, he had uncovered much about her abilities. Compassion and intuition, traits that are difficult to teach, she had in abundance. Her discipline and strong connection to the Force were evident.

But he had to find a way to get her to confront her fears more directly so that she could overcome them, giving her the confidence she needed to be the Jedi he knew she was capable of being. Had to try to see it through in what time they had left. An idea started to form in his head.

"Yes, your fears. Which reminds me, I have more training for you."

Her shoulders perked up at the mention of training. "I would be grateful for your guidance, as always."

"I'm glad to hear it. It will require a short journey, but it will bring us closer to Mos Espa for your meeting. We should leave as soon as we have finished restoring order to our dwelling."