"Yes. I was once a Jedi. Records remain of my appearance, then, records which this machine was able to use to recognise me. I do not think it sought me, however; I was a more opportunistic target."

"Kreia isn't a name I know..." But. Memory rings. "Arren Kae? She was one of my master's teachers."

She nods, slow and thoughtful, "That name was once mine. I taught your master; what little he learned from me was once my greatest achievement."

Okay. That's. Something. She needs to deescalate this.

"Thank you for taking care of the droid and... I'm glad you're safe. Do you need healing? We have kolto."

She smiles, "I am well. It was not expecting me, and my days of trance healed what injuries I had."

She gestures to Sharra's shoulder.

"And your own injury?"

"It'll heal." She pauses then. Finally checking Atton, then meeting her gaze again. "We're orbiting a moon right now, but we can take you where you need to be in a few days."

Atton meets her eyes when she looks to him, then returns to watching the old woman with her.

"We can trade the ride for killing that bucket of killer bolts," he agrees, "But I'm not carting an ancient Jedi around the galaxy." 

She keeps her focus on Sharra.

"Are you certain you wish me to leave? You may need guidance, as the force returns to you. I can provide that guidance, if you wish; I have done so many times before."

"I'm not — how — that's not happening." Breath! Sharra breathes. Panic coming back. "What do you know."

Was she part of the Council? She doesn't remember her. She wasn't there? Could she have been?

"I can feel it; can't you? The currents of the force, answering your command as you fought those fools. Your connection is frail, for now. Thin. New. But it will only grow, with time." 

"No."

A small smile tilts her lips, "You would prefer to ignore it? To reject it? All the power of the force? All it's guidance?" 

"Hey," Atton takes just a step, in front and to the side, "She said no, lady. Leave off." 

Sharra places her hand on his lower back.

"If you know me, you know why I was exiled. I have no need or want of the Force. I have commited atrocities by way of it. I will not."

"You can ignore it, if that is truly what you wish. You have that luxury. Though you can touch the force, it cannot touch you. In your exile, you have a unique freedom." 

She squints, slightly. "You seem to know a lot about it. You weren't on the Council when I last met them."

She bows her head, "I was not. I have, indeed, never been on the Council. I have met others in circumstances similar to yours, however." 

Blink. "The Council has done this before? Or after."

"There are other circumstances through which one may be severed from the Force."

She feels pulled in circles. Kreia's words at once confusing, but also clear.

"The Force isn't everything." Beat. "I mean, obviously it is, but being one with the Force doesn't have to define everyone. Shouldn't."

She sighs, so fucking tired, and presses firmly against Atton's back. "You must be hungry. I'll bring you something to eat, and once we've all rested we can talk of the future."

"Mm," she has that tiny smile again, "Indeed, it has been quite a while since I last ate. I will remain here, and await your return." 

She settles in on the bunk, closing her blind eyes to meditate.

Atton is scowling, but he does at least reholster his blaster. 

She runs her hand down his back, out of sight from the other woman, then turns. Her heavy boots loudly marking her exit... she only doubts that she will hear him follow a minuscule amount.

There's a moment where it seems he might not follow... but no, he turns and stalks after her, his boots making softer noises in her wake. 

T3 tilts his dome to look at them as they enter the central hub of the ship, releasing a concerned whistle.