"Get back here, Ahri!" Was the last thing Ahri heard before jumping into the droid ship. It probably wasn't her best idea, but she really wanted to prove herself to her master, and to her friend. She activated her lightsaber and sliced through two battle droids, smiling, it was so easy so far. She ran down the hallway, slicing through any droid that even turned to look at her.

"Ahri!" She heard her friend yell, she couldn't see her friend, but she knew through the force where she was. The voice was becoming panicked.

Ahri ignored it, continuing to make her way through the ship, she had found him, General Grievous himself. Ahri stepped forward quietly, he coughed and noticed her.

"Oh, another lightsaber for my collection." He seemed to smirk even though he had no mouth.

"Not likely, I'll defeat you, Grievous!" Ahri challenged. Grievous came down with a strike towards the head, which she easily deflected. He took out another lightsaber which he had collected from a jedi he had killed, two head strikes, both deflected. 'He's going easy on me.' Her mind raged, and she dove for him, he easily sidestepped, she hit the floor and rolled to the left as he sliced where she had been just a moment ago. Another one of his four arms detatched, making three in total, it grabbed another stolen lightsaber and activated it, joining the fight against Ahri, Ahri was starting to get in over her head, and she cried out as Grievous force pushed her across the room, he laughed, paused to have a coughing fit, and then went back to laughing. The door opened with a swoosh and Ahri's friend, Kyaya, ran through, she paused as she saw Grievous and then frowned, slicing at him with her lightsaber, distracting him. "Ahri," She paused to deflect a blue lightsaber that was coming for her head, "get out of here!"

Ahri shook her head, "No, I'm going to defeat Grievous." She replied, standing up. Kyaya turned slightly, surprised at her reply.

"Ahri, get out of h-" Kyaya's eyes widened as a green lightsaber came through her chest, her mouth opened up into a silent cry and her eyes became unfocused. The lightsaber extracted itself and Kyaya fell to the floor in a slump. Ahri stared at her friend's lifeless body, her mind recoiled at the thought of her being dead, it just wasn't possible. She was alive, she was just...sleeping. She had to be. Kyaya was stronger than her, more responsible, there was no way she could have lost. Grievous laughed, breaking Ahri out of her trance, the door opened once again and her master entered, "Grievous." Her master growled.

"Ah, Desmond, long time no see, but my time here is up, your padawan was no challenge." Grievous fled, as was his strong suit.

Desmond turned, and sighed once he saw Ahri was fine, "What did he mean then, Ahri?" Desmond asked, trying to put two-and-two together.

"Kyaya." Ahri sunk to her knees and rocked back and forth like a small child, she kept seeing her death, and it was all i her /i fault her friend had died. Kyaya would have still been alive if she hadn't run off.

"Ahri, I'm sorry, but these things happen..." Desmond began, not sure how to comfort a teenage girl, especially when the cause was the death of a close friend.

"You don't understand." Ahri stood up, fists clenched. She stomped out of the room and onto the Republic gunship.

She was with her master when Kyaya's death was announced to the clones and her master.

She saw firsthand the clones that had been in her units expressions. She had befriended many of them, even tried to make their lives easier. It was said that the only thing holding her back from being promoted to jedi knight was her attachment to the clone medic, Sathre. It wasn't a secret that the clone and the padawan had been romantically involved, they never did care what the order had thought of them. She saw the clones faces turn from shock and disbelief to confusion, 'How had she died' She heard a clone ask his comrade. The clones became abuzz with chatter, mostly questions of how she had died, and if they knew who did it. She watched Sathre bow his head, he gripped his helmet, knuckles turning white from how hard he was holding it, and practically slammed it onto his head, he stood up unsteadily and strode out of the room.

The clones watched the door close behind him, and then went back to chattering, the volume going even louder than before. Ahri couldn't stand it anymore, "Master, may I leave? I'm not feeling well." It wasn't a complete lie, guilt filled her body, leaving her tired and nauseous. Her master nodded, "May the force be with you, young one." He told her.

"You too." She turned and left, she stopped outside the doorway, where was she supposed to go? To her room? No, she had shared that room with Kyaya, seeing it now would be too painful, so she decided to wander around the halls. She paid no attention to where she was going, she tried to think of anything but what had happened, but the image of the lightsaber piercing the older girls' chest and her face full of shock was beginning to haunt her.

She stopped outside Sathre's door, and opened it, he was sitting on his bunk, watching a slideshow of holopictures of that he and Kyaya had taken over their service of 3 years together. His head lay on his knees, looking forlorn and broken, like a small child who had just been abandoned by a parent. His brown eyes full of tears, staring at the blue screen as one picture switched to another. He didn't even glance at her as she entered the room.

"Sathre?" He turned his face towards her, but his pupils remained on the pictures.

"...yes?" He asked after a second.

"I'm sorry-"

"It's not your fault." He cut her off roughly, pulling his legs tighter towards himself, seemingly recoiling into himself.

"Listen, I'm sorry because it was my fault." She whispered, he looked at her intently.

"What?" He asked.

"It's my fault." She began, "I ran ahead of the group andshewasyellingformeandIdidn''." She didn't pause in between words, it came out in a rush. Sathre looked at her as he processed it, then he glared, standing up to his full height.

He pointed towards the door, "Out." He growled. She scurried out. That being the only time she was ever terrified of a clone. She heard a slam behind her, and then another, and another until it became almost rhythmic in the slamming, she heard him yelling something, but the door prevented her from hearing the words. She walked off, head hung low.

She had no idea why she had told him that it had been her fault. He, just like everyone else, could have stayed unaware, just thinking that Grievous had gotten the better of her, it was what everyone thought, why couldn't she have just gone along with it? She sighed and entered the room, glancing over at what used to be Kyaya's bunk, with the fashion magazine the two of them had found on Coruscant. She remembered just that morning they had been reading an article about 'What hair style goes with your face shape? Find out now!' How they had giggled over it.

The room was deathly silent, Ahri just stood there, staring at the room, remembering the first time they had met in here.

Ahri followed her new master, as they walked he was talking to her, "...and you'll be sharing this room with another padawan on our travels." He concluded. She froze.

"Share? I thought jedi got their own rooms."

"Yes, b jedi /b do, padawans do not." He had turned to give her an amused smile. The door opened to reveal a girl standing with her hands folded neatly in front of her, she gave Ahri a small smile and bowed.

"...why the fuck do you have rope on your belt?" Had been the first thing Ahri had asked. The girl had looked almost hurt by the accusatory question and she heard her master scolding her and apologizing to the girl.

"You'll never know when you might need it." The girl sulked, staring at her feet.

"...you're hair is funny." She stated, looking at the girls short, spiky 'do.

"Not really..." The girl was flushed with embarrassment.

"Yeah it is, why can't you look normal?" Ahri continued to beat down any bit of confidence the older girl had had before she had entered.

"..." The girl swiped at her eyes and ran past Ahri and Desmond. Desmond glared at his new padawan.

"Padawan!" He began to scold, "Don't be so rude! Especially to those older than you!" He continued his scold but she ignored him, watching as the girl that had run off crying was now having her hair ruffled by a clone that had neon green stripes running down his helmet and body armor.

She felt like a complete bitch reflecting on that memory, and even after that, Kyaya had treated her like a younger sister. In the long run, Ahri had screwed her over from the beginning.

Maybe she just wasn't made for friendship...

Kind of depressing. Which fits because I found out my boyfriend was cheating on me.

So yeah...enjoy death...and guilt...and other stuffs.

~Arctic