The first thing Ahsoka noticed as they landed their stolen ship, finally, back in the landing bay on Yavin IV was the hunk of junk masquerading as a much abused YT-1300 that seemed to just be settling in as well. She paused, as the Force eddied and swirled around her, not even jumping when Chirrut rested a hand on her shoulder.
"Listen, do you hear?" he asked.
"I do, my old friend," she answered him, earning a squeeze before he and Baze and the rest of the team moved on, only to stop when a sharp whistle of shock escaped their Force-using legend.
"Someone tell me the details?" Chirrut invited, as they all had turned to see Ahsoka and what had brought her, the woman that had braced all of Command, the one that had mentally fought Darth Vader to a standstill across spatial distances, to shock.
"There is an old fool in Jedi robes, and he has gone pale with loss of blood to his features, and they are staring at each other, ignoring the young ones off that ship. There is a Wookiee warrior staring at our Ahsoka as well, but if I read his fur right, he is as shocked as the old fool, and our little cousin," Baze says helpfully.
"Ahh, that is why the Force sings," Chirrut said happily, before moving to continue on into the base. "Come along; even the blind man knows not to stare when there is family reuniting!"
Somewhat reluctantly, the others followed, save Baze who had already moved to match his willful husband's pace.
Ahsoka Tano had not recognized the man on sight. No, it had been his eyes locking on hers, and the stiffening of his spine that made her search in the Force for the threat he might be… and slammed into something so familiar from her formative years as a padawan that she could barely stand upright, resting a hand on their shuttle.
She knew her new team, baptized as her own in the battle of Scarif and above it, had paused but were now moving on. She watched as the old man ghosted gentle hands over the two young pairs of shoulders, apparently sending them on before starting in her direction. She noticed as the Wookiee moved with the old man, ignoring the Corellian wearing bloodstripes of the first magnitude for the moment. Her surreality extended even further as a very recognizable astromech and protocol droid rounded out their party behind the Jedi and Wookiee.
Having spoken, she could finally move, going first to the very solid wall of muscle and fur, the memories of a distant tragedy coming back to her, and this warrior's part in saving the other victims.
[You got tall,] he said approvingly. She laughed into his fur, then stepped back.
"And you're still a sight for sore eyes." She then looked at Obi-Wan, but this time she held back, not able to make herself touch him for a myriad of reasons, chief of which was expecting him to vanish.
"I thought you were dead," he said softly.
"I was distinctly told that you were," she answered that. She then looked back up at Chewbacca. "It is good to see you. I hope you're going to stay on? This is all coming to a head, I feel, and there will be no bystanders left untouched."
[Life-debt,] he said, jerking his head toward the Corellian. [But if he stays, I will stay.] His rumble implied there would be some persuasion applied to get what he wanted. [We will talk later, no matter what.] He reached out and ran his hand over her montral in temporary farewell, and she smiled, watching him go, before she had to face Obi-Wan again.
"Pretty sure you and I need to have a long talk too, but I am filthy, I have bacta bandages trying to rot into my skin, and I need to see how badly pissed off Command still is," Ahsoka told the old man. "Try not to die for real before that talk, Obi-Wan."
"Still as blunt as you ever were, Ahsoka. I promise. And yes, we need to talk for quite a few reasons."
"So? Who are they?"
Ahsoka looked up as both Baze and Chirrut slipped into the quarters she had taken over, a small alcove that was barely habitable, but far enough away from most to allow for meditation.
"Why am I unsurprised at you finding where I plan to sleep already?" Ahsoka teased, deflecting the thrust of the question for the moment. She indicated a purloined footlocker to Baze to rest on, as Chirrut was unceremoniously sprawling on her floor near where she was sitting cross-legged.
"You, little cousin, are dodging. We know your issue with the Jedi; so who is he, and how much am I going to want to remind him that you are free?"
"Ahh, but she is never free, for she is a servant of the Force in more ways than they ever were," Chirrut commented, while Ahsoka dropped her eyes, aware of how true that was, while Darth Vader lived, while Emperor Palpatine crushed hope in his fists.
"Bah. You are distracting us from the answers we need, Chirrut!"
"He's my grandmaster… was." Ahsoka drew in a shaky breath. "When I first came to the Rebellion, I begged them to find someone stronger, someone wiser, someone who wasn't a barely nineteen-year old ex-Jedi that half the galaxy still thought could ever turn on her brothers!
"The man who handled me at the time said there were no others he knew of. I … specifically asked about my grandmaster and master. He told me both were dead. And now I know different."
Baze frowned, hearing something… and the Chirrut spoke.
"About both men, I take it?" the Guardian pressed, gentling his tone from the sometimes harsh ridicule he used to impart lessons.
That one word unlocked the pain of the fight on Malachor, the revelations she could not deny, and Baze leveraged himself to the floor with them, offering his body as her wall to lean on, while Chirrut pressed a hand to her arm.
They could not take away the pain, would not think of it, but they could be there for her to draw strength from.