Disclaimer: All rights go to Lucasfilm; my only idea was the plot.

What Broken Horrors Daybreak Brings

Ahsoka Tano's eyes opened slowly, groggily. Daylight filtered through the half-closed shades of an unfamiliar window, in an unfamiliar room. She squinted in confusion. Where was she? And why in the universe did her head hurt so much? She lightly touched her temple and groaned. Her head really was throbbing like the nine Sith hells.

She closed her eyes again. Vague, sketchy visions were flashing through her mind at a dizzying pace. She saw a long, thin arm holding out a fizzing green drink, golden bracelets dangling around the slender wrist, jeweled rings on the creature's three fingers.

She saw an unknown figure light a deathstick and take a puff. Smoke filled the air. The unusual thing was, the smoke seemed almost purple, and it glittered.

The odd image startled Ahsoka, and she bolted upright. Something told her it was more than a vision, that it was . . . a memory; a recent one. She frowned. The pain in her head was making it difficult to think straight.

Sighing, she wrapped her arms around her middle – only to find herself naked. Her brow knit in confusion. Since when did she no longer sleep in a light tunic? What the kriff was going on? Something wasn't right. The Force was clouded here, in this place.

The memory of that purple smoke . . . it was becoming harder to concentrate; she simply couldn't focus. Frustrated, she studied her surroundings. What most intrigued her were the colors: emerald green, midnight blue, deep violet. They were strikingly like the colors in those strange memories.

Her gaze drifted to the bed sheets; they were a silvery lavender, the material soft and silky to her touch. Almost absentmindedly, she toyed with the woven strands of the beautifully intricate jade-colored blanket that lay strewn haphazardly across her legs. Her half-bored fascination came to an abrupt halt when her gaze drifted further across the large bed.

Ahsoka froze, her blood running cold. On the other side of the bed lay the sleeping form of Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. From what she could see, he too was naked under the sheets. Icy fear pierced her chest.

What had happened? What had they done?

Isn't it obvious? a voice inside her whispered.

Ahsoka realized she was shaking. Breathing heavily, she closed her eyes and tried to remember.

The Jedi Council had sent she and Master Kenobi to Azura to negotiate with the Amber Moon Society, a criminal syndicate infamous for powerful, addictive drugs. Master Kenobi had described Azura as "a glittering world of exotic pleasures and deadly vices," if she recalled correctly.

Toward the beginning of the negotiations, one of the leaders had offered them refreshments, suggesting a toast. As a Jedi ambassador, Master Kenobi had politely accepted, and Ahsoka could see the swirling green liquid quite vividly in her mind's eye.

She remembered nothing after that. It frightened her. Master Kenobi was a respected member of the Council; she was Anakin Skywalker's promising padawan. If anyone were to find out about this, and she and Master Kenobi were unable to explain it . . . the results would be catastrophic.

A tear slid down Ahsoka's cheek.

Her breath caught in her throat when a soft moan escaped Master Kenobi. He stirred, hesitantly opening his eyes as she flushed with shame and hung her head, her arms covering her breasts.

"Ahsoka?" He was immediately sitting upright. "W-what are you -? What happened?" His voice was shaky.

She looked up, tears glistening in her eyes, noting the shock and horror in his gaze. "I can't remember," she whispered. He was silent for a while, then murmured, "Neither can I. I can only assume we were drugged."

Ahsoka nodded, picturing that sparkling emerald drink and glittering purple smoke. If only they had been more careful . . .

She was startled by a hand on her shoulder. Glancing up, she met Master Kenobi's devastated gaze. "Ahsoka, I am so, so sorry. I know words cannot atone for what I have done, but I am."

Her voice a mere thread, she quietly responded, "It wasn't your fault. And it wasn't mine, either."

The silence stretched on and on, until he asked, voice thick with emotion, "Did I . . . did I hurt you?" It all but broke her heart. The deep blue pools of his eyes betrayed his own shame and inner turmoil.

"No."

Unshed tears shining in his eyes, he rested his head in his hands. "This is unpardonable," he breathed. Then he looked up. "Ahsoka, I think it best that no one ever learn of what has transpired here. Not the Council, certainly not the Senate, not even Anakin – no one. I'm sure you understand the consequences that would befall us."

Indeed, she did. If it became common knowledge that Obi-Wan Kenobi had slept with a padawan learner, his honorable reputation would be in tatters, while she would be looked upon as a pitiable victim. The scandalous disgrace of one of the Republic's most beloved heroes would cause the galaxy to lose faith in the Jedi Order, as many already had, and continued to, as well as the Republic itself. It would strongly and negatively affect the war effort. The Separatists would gain the upper hand, and the Republic could potentially lose the war.

The consequences would be grave, indeed.

Ahsoka nodded solemnly. "Of course, Master Kenobi. I understand completely."

He ran a hand through his hair, a tear slipping down his cheek, disappearing into his auburn beard. "I need to meditate," he choked out. Using the Force to grab his robe, he rose from the bed. She averted her gaze.

When he was gone, she buried her face in the pillow and cried. Neither of them were to blame, but it had still happened. She was confused and terrified. She had also lost her virginity. Granted, there were far worse, less courteous, less gentlemanly men than Obi-Wan Kenobi, but she still felt . . . dirty. Inferior. Unfit to be a Jedi.

Worse, she knew Master Kenobi was aware she felt that way, and held himself accountable. Her guess was he remembered no more than her, so he was left to imagine what had happened; what he had presumably done. He was torturing himself over it. She was also his former apprentice and best friend's student, and that was yet another reason for him to feel guilty.

As if proving her point, she heard muffled sobs coming from the next room.

She climbed out of bed, but as soon as her feet touched the carpeted floor, a sharp pain once again assaulted her head. She doubled over. More flashbacks crossed her mind: two bodies writhing together in mad passion; orange and white meshing together; the taste of Obi-Wan's kiss. A wave of agony rippled in the Force, which she still felt only distantly.

Too much, too soon. Nothing made sense anymore. Ahsoka crumpled to the ground, sobbing.

First came confusion.

Then, shame.

And finally, fear.