The swirl of the rising wind billowed along, hissing through endless hilly plains of tall grasses, which bowed and swayed in the chilly air; the slate gray of a heavy, leaden wall of gray completely occluded part of sky as the storm cell moved along, casting everything under it into darkness. Although the towering and seemingly endless cumulonimbus clouds seemed to conquer the landscape and swallow up the peaks of the large, squat mountains in the distance, the pastel blue and pink late evening sky high above reflected the true masters of the sky: a countless swirl of sparkling stars, and three large moons of various sizes.
A lone hooded figure paced quietly along a winding dirt path – its nearly trackless, undisturbed surface, and the sharp line that delineated where the grasses stopped on either side marked its creation to be the handiwork of sentient beings. The low rumble of thunder echoed across the hilly plains – the hooded figure's pace quickened; dirt crunched quietly underfoot, creating a backdrop to the flap of the wind tugging on the faded and in places threadbare travel cloak the loner wore.
This dirt path has to be some kind of navigation landmark, the loner thought silently, studying it for a moment. The appraisal did little to stir enthusiasm, but it was not necessarily unwelcome given the storm that would soon reach this area; after all, getting caught in inclement weather on a strange and unknown planet could be a potentially fatal mistake. Within minutes, the solitary traveler crested the top of the large, gracefully sloping hill… And spotted buildings in the far distance, at the top of another much larger hill.
Civilization… The traveler thought, again without much enthusiasm – like this planet, the village was small, and out of the way at least; that offered a mixed blessing of solitude, unfortunately laced with a near total lack of anonymity… And anonymity was an extremely precious commodity to the hooded being. Another rumble from behind quickened the loner's stride a little further still.
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At a guess, there probably weren't more than 30-40 buildings together in total, the architecture of which were all spartan to the extreme. The walls were a sturdy, plain white weatherproof form of plasticrete and plasteel, occasionally dotted with small transparisteel viewports – the type of prefabricated one-piece buildings designed to be used on frontier worlds whose climates could be unforgiving. With the exception of one door that happened to shut behind an inhabitant at that moment, the hooded figure saw no one lining the streets, including pets or animals. If there were any vehicles, they were securely stored away in their hangars or sheds.
The storm would be upon the town within the hour; at a loss, the hooded traveler paused to study the buildings for a moment, and concentrate – the mental scouting mission completed, a likely candidate nearby was selected and the hooded figure approached what was ostensibly the front entrance of the building. An orange finger keyed the visitor's bell; for a moment, there was no answer; then the door was pulled inward slightly, and an inquisitive set of eyes peered forth from the darkness within. "…Who are you?" The inhabitant asked hesitantly, probably having expected to see another familiar face.
"A visitor just looking for some place to get out of the coming rain. And maybe somewhere I could work for room and board. I mean no harm." The hooded figure replied as peacefully as possible; a louder boom heralded the strike of a lightning bolt not particularly far off, and for a moment the eyes glanced out over the rolling hills; artificial darkness was beginning to fall more and more the closer the storm cell got.
"I'm sorry, but I can't help you. Go see Gertrudymede – that's her house over there. She might be able to help you." The villager responded. Bowing politely, the hooded figure stepped away; the door creaked shut very slowly – the loner could feel the inhabitant's gaze until the door finally closed. Approaching the second house, the hooded figure again keyed the visitor's bell – this time, the wait was longer; as the wind began to rise, the loner's spirits flagged. Thankfully, the door finally opened a few moments later.
"Hel–" The resident of the new house began, hesitating again for a moment as the first villager had. "I was told you might be able to help me find some lodging – just long enough to get out of this storm." The hooded figure said, coloring her tone with helplessness, only a small amount of which was false. "Who are you?" The question came again, and this time, the hooded figure knew there would be no evading the question a second time.
"I'm just a lone visitor, coming in peace." The traveler said, slowly raising her orange hands – the action parted the weather worn travel cloak, and exposed the slender form of the young Togruta female beneath; the layer of commoner's clothing beneath lay flat against the creature's body – there was no telltale imprint of body armor beneath it.
"My name is Ashla." The Togruta lied, using the alias to refer to the being that had once been Ahsoka Tano, Jedi Padawan. "…I'm looking for a place to get out of this storm. I was told you might be able to help me; do you know where I can find shelter?" She asked; the door opened a little wider, revealing more of the middle aged human female inside – she was garbed in the even simpler clothes of a frontier farmer.
"Well," The human female replied, hesitantly. "I suppose you can stay here – at least until the storm lets up, anyway. It's not safe to get caught out in the rain here. Come in." The human said, stepping inside; relief filled the Togruta as she strode in; a moment later, the door shut behind her, sealing the sounds of the plains out and leaving only an acute silence in the dimly lit house.
"Ordinarily, this is what passes for a bar in this village. I run it by myself… But it's empty right now since everyone's gone home for the night to hunker down because of the storm. You're lucky you got here when you did; you could have gotten washed away otherwise." The old woman remarked; unsure of what to do now or where to go, Ahsoka merely stood unobtrusively to the side.
The older woman gestured to a doorway that led into shadowy blackness. She keyed the lights for the room, illuminating a living room that had been converted to a passable imitation of a cantina – there were seats along the bar, as well as a sitting area and a battered old holo-projector that made it clear the old woman still used the room for its original purpose.
"Will you be needing anything to eat or drink?" The human asked; Ahsoka chewed her lip – the idea of food sounded delicious, considering she hadn't eaten in over a day and a half. "If it won't be too much of a bother, yes please." Ahsoka replied politely, quietly setting a few vestas – local currency – on the bar. The woman glanced at them for a moment, then walked around the back of the bar. The ring of tableware began immediately.
Ahsoka fell silent, expecting the old woman to begin speaking any moment and dreading it all the while. "So," She began a moment later as she washed her hands, and then removed some odd fluorescent purple meat from a flash-freezer, "What brings you to our little hamlet?" She asked, flash-thawing and beginning to slice it with a mullinine kitchen knife.
"I just arrived on-planet a few days ago; I like the quiet life and thought about settling down out here." Ahsoka remarked, realizing she there would be no polite way to brush questions off without sounding suspicious. "You don't have the hands of a miner or a rancher." The bar tender observed, shrewdly; Ahsoka expertly masked being caught somewhat off-guard by the remark – the old woman's weatherbeaten and wrinkled hands reflected the old callouses of days spent working manually.
"…Yes, well, I'm still thinking about it at any rate." Ahsoka with fake wistfulness, recovering without missing a beat. "I'm better with a hydrospanner than anything else, but I don't mind getting my hands dirty every once in a while." She remarked, as the old woman continued slicing up the odd meat, occasionally dusting a small selection of different spices that Ahsoka could only pray to the Force were safe to eat and inoffensive to the Togrutan palate.
"You're a mechanic then? It's still good honest work; nothing wrong with that." The human muttered to herself, nodding in approval. "The name's Gertrudymede, by the way. Or Gerty for short." Gerty said, pausing to remove a small metal cask from a different cooler, and unstoppering the lid. At once an odd blue vapor began to eschew from it; as she poured the liquid into a glass and passed it to the young Togruta, Ahsoka studied it nervously – it was blue, chilly to the touch, and although she'd had carbonated beverages before, this seemed to be outright boiling at room temperature.
"Best drink that before it goes flat. Tastes better that way." The woman remarked, seeing Ahsoka's apprehensiveness. "I brew it myself from wild fruit that grows here – just don't light any pipes around the vapors, and you'll be fine." She said; not wanting to offend the host, and blindly trusting in the wide series of compatibilities between human and Togruta food tolerances, Ahsoka took a drink. It tasted sugary, sour, and with a heady aftertaste of something else entirely. "If you've got your tools with you, there's more than a few of us here in town that could use your help." Gerty remarked, continuing with the prep work for the food.
"Really? Then perhaps I'll–" What sounded like an explosion outside froze the Togruta mid-sentence; a low rumbling roar shook the walls and roof, rattling the glass of boiling drink on the counter top slightly. However, Gerty continued slicing food and heating pans uninterrupted. "It's just the rain; nothing to be worried about now." She shouted loudly enough to be heard – Ahsoka glanced around the room nervously, but held faith that the human knew what she was talking about.
Privately, Ahsoka praised the Force ardently that the human Gerty had welcomed her in after all; the storm outside sounded like a hurricane – however, the noise did have one positive effect: the two had to speak up to be heard, and that killed off the idle chit-chat between the two before the old human could poke too deeply into Ahsoka's personal business. However, more than once the Togruta glanced around the building nervously, as the storm continued to rage outside.
Ahsoka ate in silence – although the food tasted unusual, it was non-toxic and having something in her stomach did wonders for the Togruta's spirits. The roar of the storm outside continued unabated for a while yet, prompting the old woman to disappear and return a moment later with a folded blanket and a pair of sonic dampeners that she offered to Ahsoka, who took them gratefully. "If you need anything else, come find me. The rain hasn't let up yet – I suppose you can sleep here tonight." Gerty shrugged, gesturing to a recliner nearby.
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Once the human was gone and the room was bathed again in darkness, Ahsoka quietly seated herself on the floor and just stared into nothingness for a few moments – as Master Mundi often said, the future was always in motion, and difficult to read. For Ahsoka, it was no exception: she was 'here', for what little that meant. Moreover, 'here' had every possibility of being yet another fleeting stop in the never-ending migration from planet to planet – drifting from planet to planet was dispiriting in that manner.
Rather than give herself fully to the ugly and self-defeating thoughts that plagued her mind more and more these days, Ahsoka quietly prodded herself into adopting a cross-legged position; in the darkness and solitude, the lonely Togruta decided it wouldn't hurt to meditate – it was one of the few Jedi-related things she could still do without risking betraying herself to others even if they happened to walk in on her in mid-trance.
The sonic dampeners reduced the intensity of the thundering rumble of the storm's fury, so that it sounded far away – but, Ahsoka had grown used to sleeping in far noisier and much less comfortable arrangements than this one before. With practice, the quiet background noise could become comforting, sounding like the gentle patter of the regularly storms on Courscant – however, that thought process led to some ugly and painful thoughts; immediately, they were banished as the Togruta emptied her mind.
Ahsoka concentrated, extending her perceptions as she had been taught, stripping away mundane physical barriers and extending her consciousness so that it perceived through the Force itself; soon, the darkness of the room melted away to a dreamy ether in which the Togruta could feel the presence of the locals, and sense their surface thoughts. Many of the inhabitants of the village are still wide awake, She thought to herself. All of them seem to be going on about their daily lives… And yet, I sense an undercurrent of fear in them – all of them.
Upon that discovery, fear immediately filled the Togruta. The skittish desire to know more immediately clutched Ahsoka firmly, threatening her grasp on the trance. I could actively read the mind of one of the townspeople and see what's causing them such anxiety… Ahsoka thought for a moment, and then dismissed the notion out of hand only a moment later. To push past passive surface feelings and emotions and purposefully touch the mind of another, probing deeper within to memories and conscious thought, was complicated and risky – if the individual realized what she was doing or detected her intrusion, the true nature Ahsoka was working to disguise would be revealed immediately.
The trance began to fade, and the real world began to slip back, as Ahsoka's emotions and fear clouded her sensory perception – through sheer force of finely honed willpower, the Togruta quietly clamped down on her own nervousness and redoubled her efforts to concentrate. Focus! Think: There are probably only two people in this town that even know you are here – the others can't all already know to be afraid of you, Ahsoka silently reprimanded herself exactly as she imagined Master Yoda might, for letting herself jump to conclusions.
There's something they're all afraid of, and it's not necessarily me… The Togruta thought; however, on that subject, she quietly shifted focus to the mind of the human that had been so furtive as to not even fully answer the door: there was more fear there, much more fear. For some reason, her arrival had in fact jarred his mind into working itself up into a nervous wreck – however, something about the nature in which his fearful emotions and impulses rounded or centered back on themselves gave Ahsoka the distinct impression that he was worrying… About her specifically.
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Author's Note: In case there are any of you out there that are somehow unfamiliar with Star Wars: The Clone Wars, Ahsoka Tano is NOT an OC of mine. She is a character from the TV show and (c) Disney/Lucas Arts and all credit for the character/design goes to them. I only put the disclaimer here because I thought announcing this before the first passage would give away too much and ruin the mysterious vibes of the intro. :P
Also, for those curious, the setting of the fic takes place after the end of Episode III: Revenge of the Sith (duh), but before the events of Star Wars Rebels. It's tentatively placed chronologically after the events of the Ahsoka young adult novel which I thought was… 'Eh'? It wasn't bad, I guess.