The debrief was nothing that Sidra didn't already know. But unlike the Jedi Archives, the Harkonnen's perspective on the Fremen was much less humanising. 

Their descriptions of the Indigenous people could have been confused with the treatment of rats on Coruscant. It was obvious that the Harkonnen wanted to exterminate the Fremen, but they were holding back their statements in the Jedi's presence.

The hanger of the complex was where Sidra heard new information. They met up with the 501st, who had taken off their helmets while exposed to the heat. 

With the hanger doors raised, the full force of the hot wind and grains that it carried hit its occupants. The Harkonnen continued about their duties, while Mon led the Jedi and the 501st over to the mouth of the hanger.

There, was a sapphire-eyed man. He stood out not just from his brilliant eye colour, but from his dark facial hair. 

Other than Obi-wan, he was the only one who dawned some hair on his face, and it was full and rurly. It made Sidra feel like she wasn't surrounded by carbon copies, and she hoped that the clones wouldn't take offence to the thought.

'If you are going into the desert, you will need to stay hydrated,' the man said, shifting his cobalt blue eyes between each Jedi. 

While stood next to Master Obi-wan, Sidra noticed that he never looked towards Mon vin Cuss, who lingered nearby with two other Harkonnen. It made for a tense discussion and the Force alerted all its users about the discomfort from the tanned-skin man.

'These are stillsuits,' he held one bundle of fabric while a pile was on the floor next to him. 'They take all the water that you lose and clean it. You can then drink it through the tube in this mask.'

He held up the mouth cover that stretched a tube from the back of the suit. The thought of drinking their own fluids exerted from their bodies wasn't a comfort, but the Jedi were openminded. They were trained to use any opportunity to survive, protect and be one with the Force. A system that reduced the risk of dying from dehydration was an exceptional invention and the Jedi knew that it couldn't have been the Harkonnens that had invented it. They hadn't seen the bald, pale men in these stillsuits; only their bulky, black armour made for battle.

'How extraordinary,' Obi-wan mumbled, his eyes zeroed in on the suit. 'Is this Fremen technology.'

'Yes, sir. I am one of the few in Arrakeen that can prepare them for the extremes.'

'Are you Fremen?' Anakin said.

Sidra noticed how Mon's head tuned stiffly to the Skywalker. She didn't blame the man for asking the quesiton as Anakin wasn't one for venturing to the Jedi Library. But she almost wished he held his curiosity at bay, because the shift in the man who held the stillsuit was uncomfortable to witness.

The Fremen had striking blue eyes from the constant exposure to the spice. Any off-worlder would never be able to be out in the desert long enough to have this feature. Anyone who was aware of this wouldn't need to ask if someone was Fremen, and it wasn't wrong to ask.

However, from the reaction from Mon, and the turning of the surrounding Harkonnens' heads, it highlighted an aspect that seemed taboo.

With an adjustment of his feet and a strengthening of his grip on the suit, the man gulped, and answered,

'Yes, sir. But I have been brought to show you the workings of the suit.'

'Luvis, here, was brought from the tribes to be our informant,' Mon said, his tone still flat. 'He is rehabilitated, and no harm to you-'

'Oh, I'm not worried about being overpowered by Luvis,' Anakin shrugged his shoulders, but harnessed a glare at the bald advisor. 'I was asking a question, to which he answered. So, let's let him continue, shall we?'

'Anakin.'

Obi-wan tried to be stern, but it was no use. The damage was done and Mon was tight-lipped. Sidra glanced back to Luvis, the Fremen who had lowered the suit in his hand, and offered him a half-embarrassed half-reassuring smile. 

The Order were used to Anakin's tendency to be rude and direct, and Ahsoka had learnt to be just the same. This meant that Ahsoka stood by her Master with an 'I-dare-you-to-say-something' look with her feet far apart and her arms crossed. It made for an even more tense space, and Obi-wan desperately tried to give Mon and his men an innocent look.

'Please, continue,' Ahsoka gestured to the man named Luvis. 

Luvis took his first look at the Harkonnen beside him, unsure. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, before he hesitantly continued to explain the stillsuit. He went over the black colour and its padded accents. It didn't take him long to ease back into his flow of explaining, but the Harkonnens continued to stand rigid throughout the tour.

'When you are dressed in these, I will check the suits over to make sure they will function correctly,' Luvis finished, even dawning a smile at the off-worlders. It was obvious that he felt comfortable in front of the Jedi; much more comfortable than he ever felt with the Harkonnen.

Wordlessly, the four took turns in grabbing a stillsuit from the pile. When Sidra unfolded hers, she looked over the designs over the base of the fabric. It was light in her hands, and she was amazed to know that people had survived for years in the deserts in just the suits.

The adaption and inventions of Indigenous species and people never failed to intrigue Sidra. While other Jedi used the Force to heighten their duelling, Sidra used her abilities to relate to people. She was able to sense emotion in sacred objects, and feel the presence of elders. She took time in extending traditions and listening to stories. 

If the mission was to negotiate with the Fremen, Sidra could at least take the time to make sure they felt seen, heard, and appreciated for their time on Arrakis.

'A harvest is set to depart shortly. We will prepare you to accompany the team for a field test,' Mon spoke up. Sidra was the only one who glanced up when he spoke, while the others kept their eyes on their suits.

Sidra didn't want to leave Luvis with the Harkonnen, but when they were offered a room to change, she had no choice.

---

The stillsuit was like a second skin. Sidra rarely wore anything except her Jedi robes and armour, so being clad in something tight-fitting was strange. But the light padding and the thin boots on her feet were comfortable, cooling and slimming.

As Sidra adjusted the padding on her shoulders, she stood in front of the mirror. Luvis had directed her and the other Jedi to the locker rooms, where they could each have some privacy. The mirror attached to the wall was ringed with electric blue, illuminating the room and her reflection. Without any lights in the ceiling, Sidra was left in the beaming light.

It was the first time she had seen herself since leaving the Jedi Temple. Sidra wouldn't have noticed anything different, but she couldn't help but look into her pupil-less eyes. 

Her eye colour was so dark, that it looked as if she was staring back into blackholes of space. But after seeing Luvis, an Indigenous Fremen, Sidra couldn't help but notice the difference in her eyes compared to his.

Throughout the clone wars, Sidra had encountered many different species. Some had green skin, blue skin, red, or even transparent. Eyes were something that despite the universe's range of species, were always present. 

While humanoids usually had pupils, some species didn't have a unique ring of colour. But that didn't mean that they weren't beautiful.

When Sidra saw Luvis' eyes, she was blown away. Not because of their difference to hers and those she knew, but because of what they represented. 

The Spice's effect were stark and it was telling how long someone had been in its exposure. Although the Fremen would grow up with the colour, it showed the resilience of their people against the harvesters.

With Atreides gone and Harkonnen in power, the Fremen were still on Arrakis. Their eyes would remain if not in Arrakeen, but throughout the planet and in their history. It seemed like they would never fade.

'Sidra? Are you alright?'

Master Obi-wan's voice sounded from outside the private room. She let out a hum in acknowledgement and the door opened, making Sidra look over her shoulder in the mirror.

'Luvis is going to check our suits,' he said, standing in his own attire. It was strange for the Padawan to see her Master in the dark suit, and unlike her, Obi-wan had light hair and eyes, making him look slightly abnormal.

The suits complimented dark features, making it even more obvious that the Fremen had evolved better than any off-worlders. Sidra found her mind drifting while she stood in front of the mirror, and Master Obi-wan noticed how she fiddled her utility belt's buckle by her hip.

'Are you having second thoughts about the desert?' Obi-wan said while stepping further into the room. His kind expression and soft voice made Sidra turn and look at him properly. And just like she always did, the Padawan sunk into his welcoming aura.

'No. It's not the desert...'

Obi-wan kept quiet to not interrupt her. From his time as her Master, the Kenobi had learnt that Sidra was a sensitive, yet an independent person. She struggled to ask for help, because she thought she could rely on the archives. But when she was prodded, Sidra would eventually crumble into her emotions.

Although it was not the Jedi way to give into your human desires, Obi-wan never restricted Sidra from showing them. Unlike Anakin, it wasn't anger that was Sidra Chihari's drive, but empathy and passion. These were important traits in a Jedi, and with age, Obi-wan was sure Sidra would learn to use these the way the Force intended.

'I can't ignore the absence of the Atreides,' she dropped her voice low. 'We're helping their murderers. How could the Council put us up to this? How could... the Emperor put us up to this?'

Sidra watched as Obi-wan's shoulders rose and fell with a sigh. The inner turmoil of everyone that had arrived on Arrakis was evident, yet no one wanted to talk about it. 

The Harkonnen shouldn't be here. The Spice harvest was given to the Atreides, and the Fremen were set to make a deal with the planet's new inhabitants. But instead, the Jedi were to convince the Fremen to stop their attacks, and to make sure the Harkonnen didn't slaughter them all. It sounded backwards and a rush to keep the silence. But silence didn't always mean peace, yet the Jedi Council trusted Obi-wan and his team to settle it.

'I know it doesn't seem right. I've reported everything to the Council so far, and once we meet with the Fremen, then we will reevaluate the situation,' Obi-wan put his hands on Sidra's shoulders and looked down at her intently. 'I know for a fact that Anakin is having this same conversation with Ahsoka right now.

I have trust in the Council and their decisions. We can only trust in what they're doing. I know it's difficult, but now is the time to push your doubts aside, young one.'

'But Master, you said that the Force is my best sense, and it's telling me that something is wrong. Something is coming.'

'Then we will be ready when it comes. If you don't trust the Council, then trust me.'

Sidra couldn't argue with that. She couldn't doubt the warm eyes and soft smile buried within his beard. Obi-wan was not just her Master, but a member of the Jedi Council. He had years of experience with these situations, and had earned his place as such. If he was still in-charge and confident in his choices, then Sidra would do her best to support him.

Besides, Obi-wan and Anakin were known across the galaxy as fierce warriors. Sidra and Ahsoka were their Padawans and in the best hands. Why shouldn't they have confidence in their mentors?

'Okay, Master. I trust you.'