"Evening Trap, Tup."
The two clone troopers making their way towards Ahsoka lowered their DC's and saluted her. "Evening, Commander," they said in unison, then hoisted their blasters and resumed their patrol.
Ahsoka tightened her grip on her hygiene kit and continued her journey to the freshers. Unfortunately, the raging battle on Felicia did not allow republic forces much respite, so in the hastily set-up base camp, there were few freshers available. Meaning that, for now, the COs had to share with the troops. Ahsoka did not mind, but the lines for the freshers during designated hygiene times could get quite long.
Sure, Ahsoka did technically have the authority to jump to the front of the queue; however, seeing all of the men of the 501st with faces as dirty, blemished, and pale as their armour, it became apparent to Ahsoka that they, at minimum, had the right to use the fresher first, and that pushing in would feel wrong to her.
And so, here she was two hours later, dry dirt and mud caked over her sienna skin, hobbling on sore legs through the darkness of the camp, bathed in the eery, iridescent glow of the alien felucian flora.
At last, she arrived to the deserted row of freshers. She entered with purpose, and switched the latch to LOCKED, hanging her hygiene kit on the hook of the door. She stripped off her dirty clothes, retrieved the necessary equipment from her kit, and switched on the water.
A look of determination crossed her face as she eyed the water that streamed from the shower head.
It was time to get to work.
Dirt, mud, and blood — Ahsoka showed no mercy, scrubbing herself hard enough to strip the skin off a weequay. She could not help the sigh of relief that escaped her lips as the delightfully warm liquid trickled over her tight muscles that ached from days of abuse. Ahsoka suddenly realised the depth of her exhaustion; The water washed away the battle-hardened Commander, leaving a young and barely-of-age padawan in its place. She closed her eyes in response.
And when she opened them again, she did not see slightly dirtied walls illuminated in the harsh light of the fresher. Instead, she saw the spatter of blood and the smear of dirt on pristine white plastoid. The togrutan equivalent of adrenaline kicked in, as her body suddenly decided to remind her of that tense moment when a grenade rolled next to her left foot, and if it wasn't for Anakin's quick thinking, she would have been nothing but a spatter of blood on the ground. Would she have burned like the members of blue squadron in the space battle of Ryloth? Or would she have went out in a grand explosion, like that AT-TE had when she fought for this very same planet a year ago? Ahsoka squeezed her eyes shut against the too-bright fresher lights that were as blinding as the glare of the sun against —
The boots of a larger clone patrol crunching against the ground tore her from her thoughts. The phantom sound of blaster fire and cries of triumph and pain were gradually replaced by the sound of rushing water. Yet the sound was not gentle and soothing as it was before, but amplified and hollow, grating unpleasantly against her montrals.
Ahsoka groaned, rubbing her left temple. She would have to meditate for at least an hour when she returned to her quarters. Never mind sleep, or that empty, aching feeling she got in her chest when she immersed herself in the force in a battle zone. She was a Jedi, and it was expected of her from her masters and those around her that she remain calm, and not let emotion influence her actions. Lives depended on it.
Sufficiently clean, she switched off the water and cleaned her teeth, then dried herself off with a small rag. Yes, when she got back she would meditate right away. Perhaps on her trek back to her quarters, she would stop at the mess and grab a bite to eat.
She put the rag back into her kit, then rummaged around in it for clean clothes. She found a sock and her customary skirt.
She would probably have to persuade the serving droid to serve her a meal at this unregulated hour.
She continued to search through her bag, and was rewarded with her left boot, the other sock, and her leggings.
Or... she thought mischievously, despite her dismal mood, I could just do some reconnaissance through the food storages myself. That brought a smile to her face, as the momeory one particular exploration of the food storage on the Resolute had revealed some quite tasty pastries. Her togrutan digestion did not take kindly to the sweets, but it was delicious all the same.
That smile soon turned into a frown when further exploration of the contents revealed that the hygiene kit was distinctly lacking of her right boot... or a shirt.
"You can't be serious", she muttered. She most definitely packed all of her clothes — shirt and right boot included. Right? Face screwing up in rising frustration, she dug around in her kit again, but her efforts remained fruitless. This is ridiculous, she thought. She buried her face in her free hand. Ridiculous!
An irrational panic — and at something so trivial — was starting to bloom in her chest as she considered her possibilities. She could comm master Skywalker... who was currently occupied in battle. Perhaps a service droid, or a clone? Yeah sure, there was no shame in that. None at all. She fished out her comm and brought the small piece of metal to her mouth... and flung it back in her bag.
Of course there was shame in it! They were in the middle of a war zone! Republic troopers and Jedi alike have lost their lives here and are continuing to lose them everyday! And here she was, huddled, half-dressed and huffy, cowering in the fresher like a spooked tooka cat!
"You know what?" She said to no one in particular, bringing her self up from her crouch and standing stoutly within the fresher. "I am a Commander," she announced to the empty air. "I am Master Skywalker's Padawan," she continued, chin raising in determination. "A Jedi," she declared. "I am perfectly capable of walking back to my quarters by myself." It's not like someone is going to shoot me, she thought gloomily.
Before she could second-guess herself, she hoisted her hygiene kit over her shoulder once again and burst from the fresher, shirtless and bootless. Her shoulders — when did she suddenly get so tense? — slumped a fraction of an inch at the decidedly deserted path before her. A slight wind shifted the grey gravel grains. It was dim, the alien glow of the plants casting soft shadows on the ground. It was quiet too. The only sound was the incipient chirping of an insect at some distant place, just far enough to avoid the plasma bolt of an exasperated clone trooper.
"Alright," said Ahsoka. Cautiously, she scanned her surroundings both physically and with the force. "No one here," she observed casually. Like it would have made a difference if there was.
Feeling very exposed and very shirtless, she inched forward from the safety behind the door. Checking one last time that the coast was clear, she emerged from the fresher and into the night. The gravel was uncomfortably rough against her bare soles.
Tightening the grip on her hygiene kit, she set off towards her quarters.
It was not long until she sensed one of the patrols approaching ahead towards her. They were around the corner, her montrals told her, plastoid boots crunching against the gravel that was scattered to act as a temporary path from the damp felucian mud. At their approach, her uneasiness grew, her hand gripping the strap of her kit even more.
Just relax, she scolded herself at her rising panic. You're just going to walk past them. They're going to walk past you. And there's nothing to it. Never mind her shirtless and shoeless state. It's not like she wasn't naked or anything. In fact, her black bra was especially designed for activity and covered about as much as her old clothes did when she first joined the 501st.
She grasped at the thought as they came closer and closer. Of their own accord, her steps became slower and become more hesitant, like a clawmouse sneaking past a sleeping nexu. She was almost to the corner, and so were they. It is too late to turn back now, she thought fatalistically. She could sense who they were, too. It was Axel, Ridge, Pulser and Mesh.
Oh, who am I kidding? she thought.
Ahsoka's eyes darted around for the nearest source of cover, and they landed on an odd blue-yellow patch of vegetation to her left. Without a moment to spare, she leapt into the bushes.
Half a second later, clone troopers rounded on the bend and looked straight at the spot where she was standing a mere instant ago. Thankfully, they marched passed, the visors of their helmets resolutely fixed before them. From the safety of the bush, Ahsoka sighed in relief.
It was going to be a long night.