Walking into the cockpit, fully dressed in my colorful armor and ready for battle at a moments notice, I took in the fact that we were still in hyperspace. Years of Imperial Training can do that to you I guess. Taking a seat we sat in awkward silence for a few minutes, neither of us sure how to start the conversation.

"We've been in hyperspace for a while." I pointed out.

"I know." Came Ahsoka's reply, her voice a steady and calm as always. "The ship's been going as slow as it can, I want to see if I can feel Ezra's presence anywhere along the way. I'd hate to miss him." The last part was said casually, as though she was just looking for Ezra while getting some bread from the local bakery on Lothal.

Suddenly the ship dropped out of hyperspace and in front of us sat Naboo. It's lush green lands and crystal blue water mixing together underneath the thin blanket of clouds covering it all. I couldn't help but want to paint this and I itched for my sketch book. Ahsoka took the controls and we started the decent towards the planet.

The tall green trees rushed towards us and we began to approach a town of two story houses made out of a mud colored brick with interact designs on them. Instead of a regular flat or slanted roof, each one had a teal dome and teal trim lined the houses.

The older Jedi parked the ship at a space port and I got out an old bag with a strap for each shoulder. It had once been black, but after years of use was covered in paint splatters of every color and shade under the Sun. Hastily throwing in a taser, just in case, a spray can, a small first aid kit, a few ration bars, and a sack of coins that Ahsoka had tossed me as we landed I double checked everything. Picking up the bag and tossing one strap over my right shoulder the Togruta opened the ramp and we were met at the bottom by a human male wearing a uniform of a pale blue shirt with a name tag and black pants.

Judging by the thinning gray hair on his head, and the small wrinkles starting to form on his forehead and cheeks I guessed that he was about fifty or so.

"That'll be a hundred credits." He rasped, his voice rough and worn, meaning that he had probably been a smoker in his younger days.

I reached into my bag and pulled out the credits. "Here you go Mr. Wood." I politely said, squinting at his name tag as I handed over the credits. He just made a huffing sound and counted them out.

"Move along. I've got other people to take care of." He grunted.

Not wanting to cause trouble or call attention to ourselves we set off into the small town.