There was nothing on this side of the planet. No scuttling of insects or curling of green leaves towards the sun. The atmosphere had already been harsh, but now the air itself was polluted with ash, and charcoal marred the terrain. War had branded Radix.
It was the wrong place for a padawan to be stranded.
"Why couldn't… it've been Alderaan," Caleb whispered as he dragged one foot forward, soot crinkling under his boots. Why'd you have to get lost here? What is Master Billapa going to say when she sees you? Why did the Separatists have to destroy all the water sources? Better think of your apology now – you know Billapa said you weren't supposed to leave the ship.
Caleb had stayed with the ship … for a while. Master Billapa had been going for hours, though, and he'd grown tired of meditating. The scritching of an exploring lizard was extraordinarily interesting compared to the monotone hum of the coolant. One quick glance around, a solemn oath to return in five minutes, and Caleb had followed the knobby lizard across the terrain.
There wasn't supposed to be any life around, Caleb excused, coughing through the dust. He massaged his parched throat, imagining the water inside the ship – the transport Master Billapa had commanded him to stay inside. I was going to bring the lizard back. I'll bet it was important; proving that something could survive the destruction. Isn't that what we were looking for? Survivors?
He wasn't sure anymore. Swaying, Caleb pressed a hand against his head. The mission! He couldn't even remember the mission! Master Billapa was going to be so disappointed. She always emphasized the importance of focus, and now he couldn't even remember….
His head met the dust; fine grained sand so unlike the grey silt coating his robes. Confused, Caleb dragged a hand through the wheat colored particles. Did I cross the wasteland? His head hurt. It was so hard to think. Why does a headache disrupt everything? Why can't feet just function on their own?
His chapped hands burned against the sand, his breath too hot even while he shivered. Why didn't I listen to Master Billapa?
"Hey. Hey, can you hear me?"
A limber hand jostled his shoulder and Caleb groaned. Light pierced his eyes, outlining a hazy, pointed form. He was shoved again, and this time his stomach caught up with the nausea. Dry heaving cramped his innards and he moaned again, begging for the earthquake in his head to cease. Can I be buried alive and still breathe? It hurt enough. The light was fading. He must be dying….
"You're not dying."
Wan sunlight pricked between Caleb's eyelids as soft laughter sounded above him. He blinked and a shadow moved, blocking the thin white line peeking between the tent flaps. Wait, what….?
"Where'm I?" Caleb murmured. He raised a hand to his forehead and winced. "Ow."
"Hm, I should think so. You nearly crisped out there. Lucky for you, I happened to be investigating the same site."
The shadow moved again, and Caleb's sight cleared enough to make out pointed crests and large blue eyes.
"You've come pretty far, little Jedi."
Jedi. Master Billapa! Choking on a gasp, Caleb swung upright, only to faceplant the floor. Brown gloved hands instantly guided him back onto the low cot.
"Easy, now! You just about fried your brains. I already found your com and contacted your master, but moving won't be advisable for a while. Do you think you can stomach some water?"
He did, whether or not his stomach agreed. The time between the question and the sensation of cool liquid on his cracked lips gave Caleb enough cognizance to finally recognize his preserver. Blue striped head-tails and ginger skin, too serious eyes in a welcoming expression.
"You were at the temple!" Caleb realized with a start. "You were Master Skywalker's apprentice!"
The Togruta smiled thinly, and her reply was so casual that Caleb missed the flinch when she heard Skywalker's name. "That's right. I'm Ahsoka. You must have still been in training when I left. Your master is Billapa, isn't she? She told me your name is Caleb."
Nodding enthusiastically, Caleb swigged the last of the water. "You're really Ahsoka? You're a legend at the temple! Did you actually fight a Sith? Is it true that the council assigned you to Master Skywalker because you cheated during the padawan initiation?"
"What? How did…?" Ahsoka snorted softly. "Huh. I heard one master talk about the kid who was always asking questions. You're almost a legend yourself."
Caleb beamed.
"So how did you find me?" he asked, suddenly serious. "Why are you here?"
"Probably the same mission." Ahsoka shrugged, scooping a satchel and a clay plate and cup from the floor. "I heard about the recent Separatist attack on Radix and I thought that perhaps I could help."
"But why are you still helping people if you're not with the Jedi?" Befuddled, Caleb ran a hand through his hair. It didn't make sense. If Ahsoka had once aided the galaxy with Master Skywalker, then why would she leave and then continue running missions on her own?
"Let me ask a question next," Ahsoka said breezily, turning so quickly that Caleb forgot he was the one conducting the interrogation. "Your master told me she would meet us within an hour, which means that if she is travelling by transport, your ship landed four hours walking distance away. Why were you out there alone?"
Blood pounded in Caleb's ears as he scuffed the ash from one boot. "I … I wandered off. I didn't mean to come so far, but … I got lost."
"In the bluffs," Ahsoka guessed. "Didn't even think to use the Force to find your transport."
Abashed, Caleb nodded.
Ahsoka rolled her eyes. "She wasn't kidding when she said you needed to concentrate on your focus. I suppose that meant I was supposed to be training you while we waited, but I'm out of time."
"Indeed, I'm afraid so."
Caleb scrambled to his feet and promptly fell against the tent wall, exhilarated at the dry, sarcastic tone. "Master!"
Depa Billapa stepped past the tent flap and surveyed him carefully before nodding. "You're ready to travel, Caleb?"
"He's a little singed, but he'll be fine," Ahsoka assured. She bowed slightly and rubbed her palms. "I am honored to see you again, Master Billapa."
Coolly Depa nodded. Caleb looked between the two, sensing the chilled respect. Are they frustrated about something? "Uh, I'm sorry I ran off," he began uncertainly.
"I expected it, Caleb." Depa broke the staring contest and smiled at her padawan, but the cheer did not reach beyond the corners of her mouth. Ahsoka rubbed her arms. When she looked away, Caleb felt bitterness in the Force.
"Come, Padawan," Depa said calmly, drawing Caleb under one arm like a pheasant reclaiming her chick. "We're already late and the commander is waiting."
"Bye, Ahsoka!" Caleb called, waving anxiously. The Togruta waggled her fingers in farewell, her eyes warmer than the ice blue from moments before.
Depa did not look back.
"What happened?" Caleb asked as soon as they reached the transport ramp. "Why is she here? Were you upset to see her? Why did – "
"Caleb." Rubbing her temples, Depa sighed. "Now is not the time for questions. Up to your room. You're too active for a recent heatstroke and I won't have you falling during meditation."
"But I – "
"Now, Dume."
Uncertainly Caleb pattered up the ramp, glancing back at the lone tent standing on the outskirts of the wasteland. Why were you so cold to one another? Why are you uncomfortable when I talk about her? Why is she out here alone?
What happened?
Such questions would burden young Caleb Dume for a long while, before blaster shots and years of running on sore feet would erode the memory. The arid desert would soon be forgotten, along with the distrustful, hurt gaze of a padawan who had left her own.
A.N. I recently read about Ahsoka and the staged trial, and I wondered what could have happened if Caleb ran into the Fulcrum when she was younger. I figured that after the fiasco with the Council, neither Depa Billapa nor Ahsoka would be happy to revive old memories.