AN: To get you in the mood, here's, "Star Wars: The Force Theme": On YouTube: watch?v=W1937VEYguI

From among the huddled masses of wounded, famished families, a young girl peeked around an elder's rounded, freshly bandaged shoulder. Her hollow stomach bottomed out at what—or rather who—she saw and she pressed her lips together to keep them from trembling.

The tall man she'd seen earlier, the one with the masked face and silver hair; he'd been all authority until his pack of companion wolves had returned to him, yipping and circling him. When his eyes had tallied each one, safe and sound, the tight line of his shoulders had relaxed and he'd dropped to one knee to welcome each one back. After what almost looked like conversation between them, the man had jerked his head to the side to her settlement of refugees and the wolves had responded in sync with a bound, setting themselves up as sentries around her group. Constantly moving, meandering between travelling groups, the wolves behaved almost domestically and, mindful of the youngest of the travelers, approached with wagging tails to be petted when a child reached for them.

When Sakura noticed this behaviour the first time, her eyes had shot back to the wolves' handler, the Jedi with the strange masked face. To her surprise, he had folded his arms while his expression—what she could see of it—softened in response. He was a strange one, this intimidating Jedi of the gentle beasts and heart.

With his arrival, so much had changed. A single man, he'd made such a difference in their lives already. For the first time since she could remember, she was no longer running.

This gave her hope.

Mind made up, Sakura glanced back at her family—what was left of it—and slipped away.

The night was dark though far from quiet when Kakashi heard the light knock on the outer wall of his shuttle, stationed at the far end of the refugee camp he and several other Jedi had liberated.

The week before, his chest had tightened when he had realized just how few of the native people were left and it had left him fighting all the harder to protect the victims of the genocide. Most had been appreciative of the protection, supplies and medical aid, but he saw the weariness the war had burdened them with, and the wariness. Hopefully the survivors could now live in peace. The Jedi would be leaving in the morning now that their reinforcements had arrived and were organizing the small mass of people into a proper settlement.

Automatically extending his senses he felt a rebound of Force before he checked the sensors and saw he had a visitor.

A rather short one.

The air lock released with a hiss and Kakashi looked down at the dusty little girl with the captivating green eyes.

Cocking his head to the side, he took a step down the ladder, one hand leaning against the side panel of the ship.

"Are you lost?"

She shook her head. "No. I have a message for the Jedi High Council."

Confused, Kakashi nodded and waited.

The little girl swallowed.

"I need to tell them directly," she said, shifting her weight on her feet. "Please."

Kakashi tapped his fingers on the side of the ship, considering her.

He'd sensed someone with the Force outside his ship, yet he found only this little girl. It had been strong, too. As strong as…

No. He wouldn't make comparisons this early in the game. That was too dangerous.

Yet this emaciated, rag-robed dirty child who couldn't have been more than four looked him in the eye, had traveled across the camp alone as far as he could tell, to speak to him? It couldn't be disregarded entirely.

"Where is your family?" he asked, a niggling concern in the back of his mind. Was no one looking after her?

"At the camp."

"Where in the camp?"

"... on the eastern border, near the Kar-Tu 'steaders. They were our neighbours… before. We traveled together."

Behind his mask Kakashi opened his mouth to speak when he heard a faint grumbling, squeaking noise.

His eyes narrowed until he saw the little girl's cheeks stained in embarrassment, her hands wrapping self-consciously around her tiny middle.

"Excuse me," she mumbled, glancing away.

It was then he smelled the cooking scents wafting from the rest of the camp. Ah. So that's how she'd managed to get away. So she was cunning, was she, sneaking away while the rest were too absorbed in their first decent meals in possibly years?

...While she went without.

She sacrificed and strategized.

A part of Kakashi was duly impressed with her methodology, but he knew his place. Collecting Younglings wasn't one of them. In a way, he hoped it never would be. Families took it hard when they 'lost' their children or surrendered them to the Jedi Council, no matter how great the honour. Children were meant to have childhoods, in his opinion. Not that he regretted his own choice, or that of his family. But sometimes he wondered if the more precocious ones perhaps would have benefitted from keeping their families close by. It wasn't easy being a genius under normal circumstances; in the world of Jedi, it was a double-edged blessing… or curse.

And this child before him was more than precocious.

"I have a holocom," Kakashi relented. "You may record your message on it and I will deliver it for—"

"No. I will deliver it myself," she said stubbornly, brows dipping adorably over her lively eyes.

Against his will a chuckle slipped from his throat, resonating in his deep voice.

"Holocom or nothing," he said, folding his hands into his back pocket and cocking his hip. "I don't negotiate with terrorists," he teased.

It was the wrong thing to say, and he realized his mis-step the moment he saw her delicate features freeze, then shift into a mask of indifference.

His heart froze. It was the face of a war refugee. An adult war refugee. Someone who had seen too much to recover, ever, entirely.

"You won't help me," she realized aloud, her quiet voice far too calm for a child. A child that should have been laughing, eating supper with her family at a proper table, running around a play park with her little friends perhaps from day care.

Yet she was a barely four year old child who stood before him, scarred, barefoot, bruised and starving and calm, her shoulders straight as she looked him in the eye. She looked him in the eye and did not flinch.

There were full Jedi Knights who couldn't do the same.

Kakashi felt the shiver shimmy between his shoulder blades and down his spine. There was something special about the girl.

Suddenly, more than anything, he wanted to help this child. Screw the rules. He would fix it later, somehow.

"I'm sor—I shouldn't have said that. You aren't a—," Kakashi's voice broke off with a gruff sigh. Supremely irritated with himself, he struggled to find a way to fix his gaffe.

This was exactly why I should never be allowed around young children.

He reached for the young girl, but she shook her head and turned away.

"Goodbye," she said quietly, and walked back towards the camp.

She dismissed him.

Kakashi's hand hung in the air as he watched her go, before it fell to his side.

He debated for less than a moment before returning to the main cabin of his shuttle, closing the door behind him a moment later as an afterthought.

Fine.

This was fine.

By the time he closed his eyes that night he had already left three comms for the High Council requesting a Youngling recruiter to visit this sector of the outer rim of the galaxy.

His conscience was only mildly appeased.

Halfway through the night he sent another two comms to the High Council, along with a requisition request for decent footwear suitable for a young child of four, new clothing, and a year's supply of rations.

With extra candy.

And a cute toothbrush or ten.

No, I will never be a Youngling recruiter, he thought to himself as he rested his hands behind his head in his bunk.

His sleep was moderately less troubled thereafter.

The next morning he set out in his shuttle with the other Jedi, including Kisame and his Padawan, Itachi, back to their main ship. It would be a long journey home.

"Did you finish the hai-tai?" asked Kisame, several days later.

Kakashi looked back from the cockpit.

"No. Did Itachi?"

Kisame shook his head.

"He usually lets me know when we're down to the last of something. And he'd never actually eat the last of anything," said Kisame with an irritated expression.

Kakashi grinned.

"Because he was raised with manners."

"Hmph," said Kisame with a shake of his head. "An extra serving or two would do him good. He's too skinny."

"He'll be fine. You pick at him like he's a Youngling," said Kakashi, turning back to the controls. He waved at Kisame. "We'll stop off in the next sector to fatten him up at one of those dessert shops."

Kisame was already nodded, his eyes brighter.

"Sounds like a plan," he agreed.

One, two, three, Itachi counted as he, Master Kisame and Kakashi re-grouped after their sojourn for supplies on the hospitality station. He couldn't see the other two men, but he could feel the presence of the Force, stronger, coming from two separate directions on their ship. One was coming from the med-bay, the other from the kitchen.

Hmm. The kitchen again already? They'd eaten less than an hour before at the station.

Well, perhaps one of them was preparing a snack for later. They would be travelling through some trickier territory shortly and wouldn't have time to stop to prepare meals for at least a day. Which reminded him, he would need to keep better track of their supplies. He was sure they had packed more food than what was showing up in the compartment-locks.

He shook his head and began the pre-launch checks on the systems. Master Kisame teased him about being so fastidious, but so be it. Practice made perfect and the faster he could launch a ship without incident, the faster he could avoid trouble.

He'd already learned that being paired with Master Kisame entailed a fair deal of trouble.

They were travelling away from the station, Master Kisame by Itachi's side, before Itachi realized he still felt the two separate Force signatures. One in the kitchen, still, the other in the artillery bay.

But Master Kisame was beside him. Feigning half-sleep with his arms crossed and his booted feet propped up on the instrument panel, but still beside him.

Itachi's eyes widened a moment before the extra Force signature suddenly disappeared without a trace.

Master Kisame arched a brow at him.

"You felt it too, huh?"

His gravelly voice was low and calm, and Itachi's nerves settled at the comfort it gave.

Itachi gave a cautious nod, and Master Kisame dipped his chin in approval.

"It reacts when we panic. Well, I noticed it reacted a bit more to you than us. Stay calm. It isn't malicious."

"It's an 'it'?" asked Itachi.

Master Kisame shrugged.

"Until we ferret it out, it's an it."

Itachi took a breath, considering Kisame's words.

"How long?" asked Itachi.

Master Kisame shrugged.

"Does Kakashi know?"

"He hasn't said anything," said Master Kisame.

The Master lightsaber swordsman chuckled at Itachi's peeved expression.

"Well, time for bed," said Master Kisame loudly one night at their cooking-bay table.

"Mmmmm, but all these leftovers. What should we do with them?" asked Kakashi, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his belly.

Itachi looked at the two men like they were functionally impaired.

"We put them away so they don't spoil and attract pests or disease," said Itachi matter-of-factly. It was protocol on every ship. Galaxy-wide. Were his mentors acting out?

"You head to bed, we'll handle these dishes," promised Master Kisame, waving Itachi off.

"Young ones need their rest. And their nutrition," added Kakashi, clearer than usual through his mask.

"And to learn how to clean and sanitize dishes in the sanitizer, not the autoclave which will melt them," said Master Kisame too loudly.

Hung over the back of his chair was a blue blanket of woven reeds. Itachi had seen it across the bottom of Master Kisame's bed, one of the few heirlooms and private possessions he kept from his home planet. He wondered why Kisame had taken it out of his room, since it obviously meant a great deal to him.

Deciding his mentors had obviously been sneaking something aboard they didn't need, Itachi left the room and returned to his quarters.

Several hours later, when Itachi passed the kitchen-bay on his way to the head, the dinnerware was found cleaned and neatly stacked, exactly where it was supposed to be.

The blanket was gone.

"They don't look friendly," said Kakashi several days later as they crossed through pirate territory.

Through the cockpit's transparisteel viewport, a row of modded battle cruisers awaited them, blocking their way. Heavy artillery was mounted to their hulls, and more than one illegal modification could be found on the far-reaching cruisers.

"They would be the definition of hostiles," agreed Master Kisame with a nod.

"What do they want?" asked Itachi, entering the cockpit behind the two men.

"The usual," said Master Kisame. "Currency, goods they can smuggle, information they can use for blackmail."

Itachi's eyes narrowed as he watched the ships grow bigger while their own ship drew closer.

"Are we in danger?" Itachi clarified his question.

Master Kisame looked at Kakashi who was already looking back at him.

"We aren't in the strongest position for this encounter," allowed Kakashi.

Itachi tried to stifle his moment of panic but it was difficult. Predictably he felt the surge of the 'extra' Force signature in response and glared at his mentors.

But then he felt the flickering of their ship's electrical systems pulse.

"Easy now," said Master Kisame, flicking on the intercom system so his deep voice resonated soothingly through the ship. "Easy."

To Itachi's surprise the lights on the bridge dimmed. He looked down the side of the ship and saw their exterior and interior lights had all gone out.

"That's impossible," he said. "The safety systems prevent us from turning off the exterior lights."

"Easy as she goes," repeated Master Kisame, the intercom light on the control panel dimly illuminated. "We're going to sail right on through this."

"Electro-magnetic systems are neutral. We're officially invisible on their radar," reported Kakashi.

"That's it," grinned Master Kisame. "Good job. Keep it up."

"If they look out their viewport they'll see us," said Itachi, his shoulders and voice tense.

"Perhaps they'll find there are better things to focus on, coming from the other side," suggested Kakashi aloud. His normally aloof voice was laboured and sweat beaded his forehead, dampening his hair.

And it took a moment, but Itachi's eyes widened as he saw the pirate cruisers turn their bows, almost as one, ninety degrees away from them.

"Just a little bit further," encouraged Master Kisame.

Kakashi let out a heavy breath and continued focusing.

Shocked beyond belief, Itachi could only watch his mentors as they navigated through the treacherous line of attack before hurrying on beyond it and returning them on their way.

"Give us another few minutes to be completely clear and then we'll return to full power," said Master Kisame before flicking off the intercom button.

"Did you know that would happen? With our ship?" asked Itachi as he offered Kakashi a drink of vitamin water to refresh his lost stores.

Master Kisame met Kakashi's eye before turning to Itachi's.

"We had best hurry home," was all he said.

As Master Kisame 'ordered', once safely beyond the reach of the pirates their ship returned to full power, their fore and aft indicators flashing per standard galaxy ship operating guidelines.

The day they arrived 'home', strangely, they landed later than Itachi expected.

"At night?"

It was dark. Even the usual landing lights and emergency beams were extinguished. It was also very quiet. Where were the staff who did their rounds of the hangar?

"Yes. Things were too busy for us to get a berth until now," explained Kakashi. "You're free to head back to your dorm. We'll handle the ship. We'll debrief in the morning. Good job, Itachi."

Something funny was going on.

Something funny had been going on for the last several weeks aboard their little ship.

But between Master Kisame and Kakashi, Itachi doubted he'd get a straight answer until they were good and ready to give one.

Shaking his head the Padawan decided to head home for the time being. It obviously couldn't be dangerous or detrimental if both his mentors were protecting… it.

Could it?

"You had better have a very good reason for kidnapping this child across the galaxy without a guardian," began one Council member, thunder in her amber eyes.

It was the middle of the night and Kisame had called an emergency meeting with the Jedi High Council with very little detail released. While he'd always been a challenging Knight, he was rarely a thoughtless one. The entire Council arrived to receive his address, though perhaps with less goodwill than usual.

"She has a message for you," Kakashi said.

With a warm hand on the girl's too-tiny shoulder, Master Kisame nodded, Kakashi at his side.

"Proceed," said the same Jedi Councilwoman.

"My name is Sakura. I'm a refugee from…" She looked up at Master Kisame and Kakashi.

"The other side of the galaxy," said Kakashi with an eye-crease grin.

The little girl nodded and turned back to the council. "And I would like to train to become a Jedi."

"Sakura," said another Councilman. "This isn't a place to play. This isn't a free school. This is a lifetime commitment. We can certainly speak to your family about this, but this isn't a decision for a child to make—"

Pulling open her small, patched pocket, Sakura reached inside and pulled out a small comm-block. It was filthy and heavily damaged, but when she crouched on her spindly legs and put it on the floor in front of her it flickered to life and projected a document into the air above it.

"I emancipated myself from my family in order to serve the Jedi Order. I will become a Jedi. I will serve the people. I will protect them."

The room went quiet at her determined tone.

The first Councilwoman spoke again, her voice respectful if concerned.

"My child, Sakura. You must understand. The Force is not a toy or a whim. It is more than that. This will be your life. You will likely never see your family again. The Force is a way of life, a tool… a weapon, too."

"The Force can heal, too. I want to heal. And I want to protect. I want to become stronger to help those around me," said Sakura.

The document flickered several times before shifting to a picture of the refugee camp; then back to the document; then to another picture of a haggard refugee family—

Sakura grabbed the comm-block and turned it off with stubby fingers, her nails bitten down to the quick as they jabbed at the buttons. She shoved it into her pocket again and looked up at the Council with determined emerald eyes.

"The document is verified," said Kakashi when the Council remained silent.

"You're not authorized to recruit Younglings," warned a Councilman who gave Kakashi the fish eye.

"And I do not want to be," agreed Kakashi.

"However, sometimes there are extenuating circumstances," said Master Kisame.

He kneeled down beside Sakura and offered her his palm.

Looking up into his small, beady eyes, Sakura bit her lip and hesitantly placed her tiny palm in his.

"Can you show them what you did on the ship?" he asked in a quiet voice so as not to startle her.

Sakura looked around the room and Kisame dipped his chin. She pressed her lips together and gave him a small nod, her eyes lighting up.

Then the lights in the room dimmed and flickered… before a colourful pattern erupted from them, like an illumination dance.

Kisame chuckled. "Good thing you didn't do that while we were out with the pirates," he said, winking at her.

For the first time, Sakura smiled back.

"... and this will be your dorm room," said the Jedi instructor, Iruka, who led Sakura into her own private quarters. There were other beds in the room but they were empty.

"Alone?" she asked quietly.

"For a little bit. New Younglings arrive every so often. You'll meet someone your age soon enough," he said kindly.

Sakura took a deep breath and nodded, thanking him.

After washing and putting on her new pyjamas—she couldn't remember the last time she'd had anything new, let alone worn pyjamas—, she crawled into the bed closest to the transparisteel window. She had no possessions outside the small comm-block, which now rested upon her bedside tablette. Even her old clothes had been sent for recycling.

She still couldn't adjust to the shoes she had been given, and preferred to wear her socks to sleep, for now, since she had no one to curl up beside for warmth.

With a click Sakura turned off the light. Then she lay back and stared at the stars and thought of her family until exhaustion smuggled her into sleep.

In his own private dorm room, Itachi looked up at the Tower where the High Jedi Council were meeting in the middle of the night.

Something was happening.

And when Master Kisame was involved—as Itachi was sure he was—trouble followed.

He sighed and closed his eyes.

AN: This little series of mine has been fairly popular on tumblr, so I thought I'd share it here. I hope you enjoy. Thank you for reading!