I listen to what you say, but I hear what you mean.

~Hercule Poirot

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"So, where is he now?" Anakin asked his former Master.

They set up base in the remains of what might have been a museum and just finished giving a debrief on the situation. The droids had covered more ground in their area. Odd seeing as intelligence reported their presence further away from their forces. But Obi-Wan's squad had been spotted, and, as a result, they had to take on those clankers head-on.

So many of their men had died in such a short amount of time. And if he understands this correctly, it's because of...

"I've told him to meditate on his actions. He understands his wrongs, and he wishes to correct them."

"At least..." Anakin muttered. He hated how many near-death situations his Master had been in— some of them could have been Anakin's fault—knowing that this one was not because of him or anything the Council had him do but of a youngling.

"It is rather strange." Said Obi-Wan pensively. "So far, he has proven to be observant of small details. Then again, I suppose he would be impulsive— or at least impatient— at his age."

"So, why bring him here at all?" Anakin almost exclaimed, before speaking in a low tone, "Another mistake like this, he'll get others or himself killed."

And his former teacher shrugged, and his tone grew wistful, "I'm sure others said the same when you were my student."

"This isn't about me, Master!" This time, Anakin really did exclaim, "This is about— saving as many lives as possible. I know you said the Council let you do this, but..." The Knight reeled in his emotions but left his last sentence only in thought: You still haven't told me why you're doing this.

Then, Obi-Wan frowned with crossed arms, "If I hadn't intervened, he would likely be stuck in the Agricultural Corps. There is potential in him, but it must be refined."

And Anakin's calm returned slightly; he supposed that made sense. Obi-Wan told him how, before Qui-Gon trained him, he had been cultivating different plants. Anakin wouldn't call the AgriCorps unimportant, per see, but he wouldn't want to waste his talent boredom when there's a whole galaxy to see. Yes, Qui-Gon is why he and Obi-Wan are together— in more ways than one.

"You sound a little like..." Anakin stopped himself, but it was too late. An age-old awkward hush once again greeted the two. At the moment, their sadness and uncertainty were one and the same. Qui-Gon was also on his Master's mind, probably for different reasons.

Anakin didn't have to chase the hush away, though. Cody walked over, "General Kenobi, a moment, please."

"Of course." But Obi-Wan stayed a second for his former Padawan, "When you get the chance, try speaking to him. I'll admit, he's odd, perhaps more than before, but he has much to learn. Perhaps you can help in that regard."

"No, thank you." Anakin scoffed, "I don't want a Padawan slowing me down."

"And Anakin? Remember, you're a Knight now, and I'm not your Master anymore."

And there it is. Anakin could initially ignore it, but that was the final nail in the coffin. He tries dismissing these feelings, but it's not easy.. Feelings of being turned away reared their ugly head again after so long. He needs to do something else, and he needs to do it now. So, Anakin started walking, and as he did, he found the remains of a blueish-green protocol droid.

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There's no point in remembering right now.

There's no point thinking about our retreat with all the twists, turns, zigs, and zags. Or the army of droids that seemed to multiply every time I saw them. I won't think about how a lucky droid shot down our rescue gunship with a rocket launcher. Or how I (stupidly) tried to rescue a (dead) pilot and gave us more problems. If I was reminiscing, I'd feel glad that our chase through the streets eventually ended with Skywalker joining us. With our army charging towards theirs— as many Clones falling like droids. I can't even remember— not the thunderous tanks, the explosions, or anything else.

... Okay, clearly I did.

So, now here I am. Finally, arriving at a moment of reprieve— surrounded by our Clones and no sign of the droids. Our squad, having disbanded, left me alone with my Master; I was still getting tiny pieces of debris out of my hair while he spoke to me. His words boiled down to what I've been working toward since I got here: meditation. I think it was supposed to be a punishment for my actions, but I saw it as anything but that. The action wasn't ending anytime soon. I'd need all the tranquility I could get.

I walked into a tent, hoping to meditate on my actions. I sat at the back of the tent and began my meditation. Master Yoda always made it a point that all Jedi should meditate no matter their age, and I never saw a reason to argue, unlike some restless few who come to mind. Or, more specifically, a restless two.

I opened an eye when I heard someone enter the tent. Anakin Skywalker walked in, only noticing me when he made four paces. When he stopped in place, I immediately knew he came here for privacy. I motioned my hands in a 'be-my-guest' manner, and all he did was shrug his shoulders.

I thought he might also be here for meditation. When he sat at the table a few paces before me, I knew he was. A unique form of meditation, as a few Jedi could be tinkerers. And given his reputation, he would be one of them. I shut my eyes when he sat down and decided to humor myself. Whatever he had was small enough to hold, yet the noise was audible enough without being slammed. The slightest clang was heard. Too light to be a datapad.

"Are you holding a droid's head?"

"Hmm?" Master Skywalker half-turned at my question.

"Are you working on a droid's head?"

"Yeah, it's—"

"No, no, don't— oh, never mind!"

He turned to show me the head of a teal protocol droid with its eye socket hanging out. Its body lay on the table covered in soot.

Skywalker's head cocked back, and his eyebrows furrowed, "What?"

"No, forget it," I waved him off, closing my eyes again.

I could feel his stare for a few seconds before he shrugged me off and went back to work. Nearly a minute had gone by. Try as I might, meditation wouldn't come to me anymore, and the air had become awkward. I couldn't see him at work, yet I could tell Skywalker was hard at work on that head. If only it could provide commentary. What Jedi can meditate in this environment?

"So..." I said with one eye open, "how's the day treating you?"

Again, pausing from his work, his head moving slightly as if wondering who spoke. He didn't turn this time as he said, "Eh, could be better," and resumed his work.

The silence persisted again. It's not hard to forget that Skywalker is a 'tech Jedi.' Most of these Jedi are like rocks: stubborn about keeping to themselves. Two Padawans I know are like this, and I heard Master Saesee Tinn keeps to himself. It seems Skywalker is still a rock, only taller and older. But even the most immense stone can be worn down.

"Did Master Kenobi tell you how I fell through a few floors?"

"No."

"Well, it was my fault in the first place. A probe droid caught us, I jumped after it, and I landed so hard I fell through two or three floors." I frowned, "That was humiliating," then chuckled, "but also a little funny. I'm sure the droids found it funny. Oh, and I destroyed a squad of droids. Or maybe it was a patrol. Either way, they've gone to the Terrible Smelting Pit Down Below."

"How reckless," Skywalker scoffed softly, "Keep that up, and you'll never make it as my Mas— as Obi-Wan's Padawan."

With that statement, I fell silent because that wasn't the kind of reaction I wanted from Skywalker. This was all too reminiscent of a memory long since past—the last of my bad days. The 'hmph' I let out might have been a bit too loud for my taste, as another conversation took longer to get. He and I sat where we were, each to our own (sudden)discontent, neither saying a word— for at least twenty seconds.

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I won't leave things on a sour note, so perhaps this will grab the older Knight's attention, "Do you wanna something about your arm?"

Once more, he stopped working, "That it's attached to my body?"

"So I may be telling you something you may or may not know. What of it? What do you lose except time?"

He looked over his shoulder.

"So," I said, "All I heard were rumors about your injury, but I could never be sure. There was one thing I noticed which confirmed it: your gloves."

Skywalker drew his head back and looked down at his gloves. Then he completely turned around to look at me, eyebrows raised. Finally, I had his attention again. That stare of his, though, deserved to be impressed.

I inhaled, "Well... both the gloves and how you wear them. When I compared them, I thought you displayed a certain amount of confidence in your left, which you lack with your right," I gestured to the right arm, "It's tighter than your left one. When something is tightened, it's usually to keep something in place— like sticking a leaf back to its branch or the broken branch on a tree. Or tying someone to a tree because they won't leave you alone, even after having warned them several times that all you want is a moment of peace."

"..."

"Just an example. So, when I see someone with a tight glove on only one hand, I ask myself, 'why?' Why is something tightened? To keep something on or from falling. What is there to keep from falling off? A hand?" I paused, "As I understand it, the feeling of a prosthetic takes a while to get used to. Since it's a strange sensation, you would try to make it feel natural. As natural as you can make it. So, I thought tightening a glove could be a way to compensate."

I slowly spread my hands out in front of him.

Skywalker was silent and looked at his hands for a moment. This hush dragged on, save for my fingers tapping my knee. His blue eyes stared into mine, and his lip twitched upward.

"Not bad..." He whispered, flexing his hand, "And you got that from my glove?"

I smiled at him and let out a breath. I flicked a piece of my hair to the right— it didn't change anything— and got up from the floor.

"It's been a year already," His blue eyes staring at his arm, no doubt, also the memories it carried, "and it's somehow a rumor."

I didn't come in to watch someone sulk; I'll have to do something about this. Before I could, however, a blue astromech droid rolled into the tent and up to Skywalker, beeping and whistling its way in.

"Well, you found me, Artoo." Skywalker patted 'Artoo's' head, "What is it?"

'Artoo' trilled his response and began moving out of the tent. He paused and spun his head to look at us, and we understood.

"He wants you to take him for a walk."

Skywalker looked at me, "Or he wants us to follow him."

I stared at the droid as it rocked back and forth slightly with a few more trills, still waiting at the entrance.

"Yeah, maybe." I shrugged, "Well, lead the way, Walker of Skies."

He stood up quicker than he should and looked at me, quite annoyed, "No, we are long past this! Don't call me that again!"

"It sounds fantastic!" I giggled a madman's giggle, "You should be lucky I'm not singing the song."

"Oh, Force."

"If only because I," I inspected the ground, "forgot the lyrics."

"Good." He exhaled and made to leave. Maybe against my better judgment or because I'm a terrible person, I didn't shut up.

"So, Walker of Skies—"

Then he faced me and raised his voice, "Just. Call me. Anakin!"

I raised my voice, "I'm thrilled!" At his perplexed face, I continued, "That I get to call you Anakin; I didn't think I'd get to after your ascension. Congratulations on that, by the way."

The Knight straightened himself, shook his head, and huffed, "Thanks. Congratulations on your promotion..."

"Oh, thank y—"

"You little clown."

I did not pout at that comment and chuckled, which he copied. Artoo noises resembled impatience, and I responded, "Yes, puppy! You're hungry. We get it; we'll feed you!"

And both Knight and Padawan laughed at the low raspberry sounds. I can't imagine why he sounds so offended— puppies are cute. If I'm bad at first impressions, am I bad at reintroductions?

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"Line up! Have your gear ready! Helmets off!"

Anakin and Zakriahs looked around to see many troopers in rows of ten, shoulder to shoulder. Helmetless and standing straight with their hands behind their backs, their weapons and equipment sat neatly at their feet. While four other Clones inspected everything laid on the ground as they passed each row.

The blue astromech moved to Obi-Wan and Commander Cody, currently speaking to a yellowish-green Sergeant Clone. As Anakin checked behind him when he sensed the Padawan had lagged behind. Zakriahs' green eyes seemed to scan over the various soldiers and their activity, prompting Anakin to do the same. Each soldier searched from different belt compartments to even the Clone helmets on the ground.

It certainly gave Anakin pause— they were missing something small by the looks of it. But Anakin didn't pause for too long, he knew he'd get more answers from his friend, so he called the Padawan to keep up. Zakriahs snapped to attention at once, almost missing Anakin's call.

"What's going on?" Anakin asked once Zakriahs was in earshot.

Cody addressed him in a grim tone, "We're missing some medical supplies; they're not all accounted for."

Anakin was taken aback at first, then frowned when he considered the implications, as well as the complications, this would bring.

"Medical supplies, you say? Bacta patches?" The Padawan's tone was the curious one that would ask what color the sky was. Further reminding the Knight that despite his sharpness, he's still a rookie. Then again, perhaps he's simply underestimating him once again.

"No, sir." Spoke the Sergeant, "Bacta liquid. When I went to get some supplies, our medics couldn't find all their vials and a few stims."

"Stims?" Zakriahs blinked, and Anakin blinked after. Who didn't know what stims were?

"Stimulants," Cody said almost automatically.

"Ah," Zakriahs nodded, "pray, continue."

Now that sounded almost professional, Anakin thought dryly, crossing his arms, "Not much left to say. Seems obvious what's next: search every trooper until we find the culprit."

And this is where his old Master shook his head, "Not just troopers, Anakin."

"Us too?" The exaggerated double-take this kid made almost made Anakin laugh. Don't know what to expect from this clown.

"Yes, no one is above suspicion at the moment. Now that we're all here, we can begin." Obi-Wan unclipped his belt and set it down on the ground.

"Aren't we above suspicion?" Anakin asked after he and Zakriahs shared a brief look.

"We're pressed for time. Sergeant Slick and his platoon are about to perform reconnaissance for our ambush. I'd rather put the troops at ease by complying."

The Knight saw the logic in the Master's explanation, albeit with a subtle eye-roll. It didn't help that a tiny bit of shame crept into Anakin's heart for that question. These soldiers are just doing their jobs, and he's here being a brat when he's long past this. But he was sure that Obi-Wan would never do something like this; surely Obi-Wan thought the same for Anakin. He supposed there was no harm in getting this over with.

"Apologies, sir, but it's standard procedure." Then Cody noticed, at the same time as Anakin, the Sergeant slightly swaying and shifting in place, "Sergeant, are you alright?"

"Yes, sir." His hand moved to his head, forgetting the helmet, apparently. "Just a minor headache."

"Do you—"

"I'll be fine." Slick cut Anakin off, "Let's just get this over with while there's still time."

I keep getting reminded that these guys are nothing if not tenacious, Anakin thought, then nodded, "Very well. Good luck, Sergeant."

Slick nodded back and then jogged to where his squad was waiting with speeder bikes ready.

"Did the Sergeant already get searched?" Zakriahs asked once they took off. When he did, Anakin realized he hadn't said a word until now.

"Slick and his men were the first ones that got searched, and they were all clean," Cody responded. Even after getting an answer, the Padawan's nod was absentminded. It struck Anakin as odd(big surprise), but he put the thought away, removing his belt instead. Zakriahs followed his example and spread his arms out so he could be searched.

One of the troopers paused in his work to ask Zakriahs about the small bag hidden in his tunic.

"Oh, I almost forgot!" He beamed, took his bag from the trooper, dropped its contents in his hand, and handed them to Anakin.

"Here, Master Sky— Anakin, Zula berries! Handed to us from Dexter Jettser himself!"

Anakin motioned for the Padawan to return to where he was, and he obeyed with a sheepish 'sorry,' He examined the berries and grinned at the thought of his Besalisk friend getting more revenue.

"You can always count on Dex for good ingredients," Anakin said with his mouth full of all the berries, his smile not quite there yet.

"Speak for yourselves. My meal wasn't very appetizing." Scoffed Obi-Wan with an all too familiar cynicism.

"What did you order?" Anakin shook his head, "Never mind, I know it was Dractuvian cave slugs again. You know what you were getting yourself into."

"Of course I did." The bearded Master rolled his eyes, "No matter what Dex adds to the dish, it will never be delicious."

Anakin nodded with a tsk, "Ah, keep talking like that, and he'll never serve you again."

"Why do you keep eating that? Are you trying to build your endurance?" Came the innocent question from the Padawan.

"My reasons are mine alone, Zakriahs." Said Obi-Wan, as if ending the topic. But something about Zakriahs' question reminded Anakin of...something which triggered a memory...

"Wait a minute..." Grew the smirk on Anakin's face, "this wouldn't have anything to do with a certain hoi-broth incident, would it?"

Anakin knew he had it in one when his Master's head dropped, "Oh...you have to bring that up now..."

"The what incident?" Zakriahs was intrigued— Anakin wouldn't be surprised if the Clones pretended not to listen.

"Funny story." The Knight chuckled— really chuckled.

But an exasperated Obi-Wan interrupted him, "Anakin, please don't. We weren't even talking about that."

This was enough to bring Anakin's spirits up finally. The grin Anakin had been trying to recover was back for everyone to see.

"Well, let's talk about it now! Right, Zak?"

So it surprised him to see the young one frown for the first time today, "Zakriahs," before smiling, "and yeah!" and frowning again, "Wait, hold on..."

"What? What's wrong?" Master and Knight watched the Padawan feel the small bag before sticking his hand to find blue liquid instead. Then, Zakriahs frowned— really glared— at the bag before launching it to the ground. The Jedi and even the Clones present were shocked at how he crossed his arms with that expression— like a child sulking for not getting what he wanted.

"My berries are crushed. It must've been when I hit the floor." He grumbled and smacked his lips.

Anakin... what else was Anakin supposed to do except stare? He heard Obi-Wan sigh, that kind of sigh that said, 'I should have expected something like this.' And now, Anakin briefly wondered what prepared his Master for this.

"You're clear, sir." Said the Clone after a beat.

"Thank you." The curly-haired Padawan put his belt back on and walked back to the tent, "I'm going back to meditation."