Worried, for the safety of the next generation. If we survive long enough.

A sigh involuntarily passes through you, making you blink away a tear as you rein in your emotions. “It’s not just because of them - those Inquisitors, but because of I worry about them you know?” Your head swivels back to face the horizon in front of you, the landspeeder hummed quietly enough that you knew there wouldn’t be if any trouble at all with the machine.

“The next generation, I don’t want them to have to suffer a life of exile. Scared to embrace their control of the - hell if the Empire knew their faces, they won’t even be able to show their face to a friendly stranger.” Silence takes over the front end of the grey speeder and all you can hear is your own breathing and the calm, practiced breaths of the Knight beside you. “I don’t want them to live that kind of life, one of exclusion from society and a nomadic lifestyle away from civilisation; to run and hide away from everything that could harm them.”

Quickly exhaling through your breath, you allow yourself to slouch on the chair. Likely it was made out of Womp-Rat hide, none of it was grey so you kept your worries centric to the Empire’s threat rather than the diseases you may have caught simply sitting in this ‘borrowed’ speeder. The stoic’s voice cuts through your tangent of thoughts, “They’re the next generation of Jedi, we’ll find some way to make it all work out. For the moment keep your guard up, we’re still going to have to try and teach them but we’ll need a safe place to occupy. You have had the pleasure of adventuring in Tatooine as I recall, unless that was you and another master?