Master Obi-wan held a small smile as he entered the living space. The bearded man with floppy hair seated himself next to the Togruta to be directly opposite his own Padawan. In the meantime, Sidra and Ahsoka worked on appearing casual at the Jedi Master's entrance.

'Arrakis' desert is harsh, and the sandworms are certainly an obstacle, but people do reside there,' Obi-wan explained, his elbows resting on the circular dining table. 'Planets, like Tatooine, are near inhabitable outside of the cities, but people have survived on Arrakis for thousands of years.'

'I think it's more the sand aspect, Master,' Ahsoka pipped up.

Sidra peeked through her eyelashes to see her Master looking confused at Ahsoka. She tried to busy herself with the vambraces around her wrists, and glanced up without moving her head when she heard silence.

Obi-wan knew about Anakin's dislike for his home planet, but the details of his recent return were amiss to the Order. But from a slip up from Senator Padme Amidala, who was present on the detoured trip to Tatooine, Ahsoka knew about her Master's hatred for the desert ball. And when Ahsoka knew something, Sidra usually was aware of it, as well.

The subject dwindled and the Padawans fell into more talk about Arrakis. Obi-wan sat quietly while he listened and fell into game of looking back and forth between the two young women. Eventually, his attentive gaze fell on his Padawan, who had a glow in her skin and eyes full of enthusiasm when she recited all she knew.

Sidra never ceased to amaze her Master. After Anakin became a Jedi Knight, Obi-wan hadn't thought about taking on another Padawan. Most Masters in their right mind would be put off from taking on new learners after teaching the infamously stubborn, brash and unpredictable Anakin Skywalker.

But when the quiet girl with black hair clipped out of her face was presented to the Jedi Council, Obi-wan Kenobi was intrigued. He sensed great wisdom in Sidra Chihari, and perhaps a more academically-inclined Padawan would do Obi-wan some good.

The clone wars made it difficult to teach the young girl in the structured way of the Order, but Sidra and Obi-wan had learnt so much together. They were never short of missions on all kinds of planets, and Obi-wan's negotiations were much more successful with Sidra by his side. She was knowledgable on so many languages, traditions, and cultural aspects, that the Chihari became sought after for potentially complicated missions.

And after several months of teaching her, Obi-wan had never needed to fish Sidra out of sunken traps, or had to settle arguments between her and tribe leaders or government officials. Unlike Anakin, Sidra Chihari was level-headed, respectful, and progressive in her training under Master Obi-wan Kenobi.

Much was to say about Anakin and Padawan Ahsoka Tano, but that was a can of rotworms that didn't need to be opened.

'With the Atreides gone, and the Harkonnen back in power, there's no telling what will happen with the Spice trade. Especially when we're...' Sidra shifted her dark eyes from Ahsoka to Master Obi-wan with her pause. '... helping them with find the Fremen?'

Sidra purposely finished with the tone of a question. With her words lingering in the living space, Ahsoka also turned to the man beside her. They reached the segment of Arrakis' history that concerned the Jedi Order, and Sidra wasn't sure if she intentionally stirred the conversation to this point. Without a base to continue, the Padawans now looked to Master Obi-wan for Council's reasoning for their mission.

The hum of the engines dulled the silence, but Obi-wan sensed the inquisition in the air. He hoped that one of the clones would appear and say that they had entered the planet in question's atmosphere. This would save him from a confusing, and frankly, uninformed conversation.

But Anakin continued on the ship's flight plan and no clones appeared.

'Look, the Order made it clear that this mission was circumstantial,' Obi-wan began, a bothered sigh preempting his words. 'All I know is that the Senate handed this mission to the Council, and it was made clear that it was delicate.'

'The crates of blasters in the hold say otherwise-'

'Whatever weaponry on-board is precautionary.'

Sidra's eyebrows flew upwards at Obi-wan's interruption, and Ahsoka was itching to bite back a Skywalker-like reply. But in realisation of his tone, Obi-wan's tense shoulders relaxed, and he sat back against the booth.

If the Padawans didn't know any better, they would have thought that the Master was on-edge from his own disbelief in their peace-making mission.

'Just remember, young ones, that we are peace-makers-' he looked at Ahsoka first, before settling on his own student '-not conquerers.'

The Chihari didn't miss the way the Kenobi lingered before he left towards the cockpit.

---

The hills of beige were stark against the blue sky. The winds were low and the sun was hot. Arrakeen, one of the cities amongst the desert, was a man-made eyesore.

Like the surface of an imperial ship, Arrakeen was rough, grey and made of panels. Buildings and halls were connected, creating the look of a large colony. No gaps allowed for the grains of Spice to peak through. It appeared as if you could walk from one end of the city, to the other without setting foot outside in the addictive Spice-filled air.

Two carrier ships entered the planet's atmosphere. A welcoming party awaited on the platform on the city's outskirts. But what this party lacked, was the welcoming aspect.

Winds whipped, but the Harkonnen didn't sway. They squinted in the sunlight and their shadows were dense behind them. The arrival of the Galactic Republic's representatives brought a sense of power, rather than the peace that they were hiding behind.

The Harkonnen watched as the ships lowered and the landing ramps were dispatched. The white armour of the clone army exited the hull with their standard blasters in hand. They weren't entering battle, but the image of the Galactic defences needed to be upheld in the face of a Great House.

Glossu Rabban, the current face of the Harkonnen army, was the least welcoming of the party. But with his broad shoulders and monstrous height, Glossu stood at the peak of his soldiers' formation. 

House Harkonnen were known for their hairless bodies and white skin. Their brows were heavy over their eyes and the lack of eyebrows made it difficult to decipher their emotions. Like the rest of his army, Glossu Rabban was a bald man in black armour and robes, and he eyed every clones personally. 

Captain Rex, who exited the ship with the Jedi generals and Padawans, made sure to scoff through his transmitter. But as they neared the Great House, the clone resisted any quips with his generals' address.

Beside Glossu Rabban, was Mon vin Cuss, the baron's stand- in advisor. Far less broadshouldered than the army's superior, Mon held his hands threaded in front of his stomach. It showed his professional manner that was required with being the baron's right-hand man. Besides this, he wore black robes that wrapped around him, and had a painted his top lip with black.

Mon vin Cuss had assumed the role of advisor in the recent day. The baron's original advisor, Piter de Vries, was killed by a last minute act from Duke Leto Atreides. The details had not been documented, but the Duke had killed almost everyone in the room before he was pronounced dead. Only the baron had survived.

'Welcome, Jedi Masters,' Mon vin Cuss bowed his head in respect. 'I hope your travel was comfortable.'

'Anything's comfortable when not in this climate,' Anakin mentioned and Obi-wan wanted to jab his elbow into his side.

'The desert is harsh, yes,' Mon said unemotionally.

'Even more to be grateful for your presence,' Glossu Rabban pipped up, barely attempting a stretch of the neck to bow. 'My uncle has been anticipating your arrival.'

Obi-wan and Anakin stood shoulder to shoulder, and only one of them bowed their head in acknowledgment. Anakin was struggling to hold his tongue and held a permanent scowl on his scarred face. The air of murder and slaughtering lingered in the Force, and Anakin was glad that Obi-wan was able to utter the words,

'Well, we hope that we will be of some use in all of this.'

Glossu appeared grateful, although he looked pained to express it.

While the generals stood tall and rigid, their students hung behind them. Melange scratched at their throats like the powder of cinnamon burned the sinuses. But unlike the discomfort that cinnamon brought, the Spice went into their nostrils smooth and seductive.

In the few moments they stood out in the desert, the Jedi realised why the Spice was labelled as addictive to those who consumed it.

Sidra was able to conceal her immediate dislike for the Harkonnen, while Ahsoka found solitude in looking away completely. It was difficult to stand in front of those responsible of genocide.

Not only was Glossu Rabban's greeting awkward and forced, the looks of his squared shoulders and pursed lips made Sidra uncomfortable. And she knew from Master Kenobi and Master Skywalker's Force signatures that they felt the same.

'Come,' Sidra caught wind of the man's demand disguised as a suggestion. 'The air is poisonous.'

The 501st legion stuck close to their generals and commanders. Captain Rex had ordered for his men to be on guard while on Arrakis. So, while Mon and the army of bald men lead the Jedi inside, Rex made sure to have all eyes on the Harkonnen around them.

As the new-comers entered the compound, a pair of high-tech binoculars zoomed out. On the dunes of the sand, a collection of figures laid on their bellies. There was no chance of them being spotted, as they were far enough into the desert to be barely spots to any on-looker.

They wore masks over their mouths and goggles over their eyes. In tight stillsuits, their forms were slim and fit. To survive in the desert, they needed to be able to flea and attack whenever it was necessary. 

They spoke in tongues that derived from years of evolution. What was once Arabic, was now Chakobsa; the language of the Indigenous Fremen.

'What do you see?'

'An army has arrived. They wear white armour, and four of them do not wear helmets.'

'Reinforcements?'

'Could be, but the outsiders seem different. They are... not like the ones before, or the ones in the city now.'

The smaller figure beside the one with binoculars craned their neck to the side. They looked at the larger one, confusion and question hanging over their head.

The binoculars became useless once the armoured men and Harkonnen entered Arrakeen. Pulling the device away from their face, a pair of sapphire blue eyes were left uncovered from their head wraps. The tinted whites and irises of the eyes blinked in thought, before a pair of goggles were pulled from around the spy's neck. With a motion of their head, the group slipped down the slope of the dune.

The small group moved together as they glided down the sand. There was still an air of curiosity amongst them, but they had lingered near the city long enough. 

They had heard the commotion in the night prior and it had dared them to draw close, but they had gathered little. All they had learnt was that the ones who once operated the Spice harvest were gone, and an old conquerer had taken their place.

But the arrival of yet another party from off-world had piqued the Indigenous' interest