The last year was anything but under the radar for Anakin Skywalker. One day he is stopping the Slave Trade on the planet Kavado. The next day he's winning over the heart of the Zygerrian Queen heading the amoral operation. It was also just recently he thought his Master Obi-Wan Kenobi was lost forever. A pinpoint blast from a sniper hit him in the chest one night on Coruscant on patrol. The Jedi went through all the formalities. They buried Kenobi, administered his last rites and put his weapon on displace. Only... it was all a front. The classic "Gotcha" operation for the Republic to needle themselves into the crime syndicate authoring plans to kidnap the chancellor. Anakin was left in the dark. All those nights he lay awake grieving.
"Master" a high pitched, but kind voice took Anakin out of his self-imposed trance. "We've been sparring for hours, can we please take a break." The tired orange skin Togruta pleaded. Usually Ahsoka was down for extremely long training sessions. Anything that didn't involve concentration or meditation she was willing. Something about Anakin, even when paying half-attention, his methods during this sparring session were more aggressive than what she was used to.
"Huh" His hands are shaking, he just saw it for the first time. Switching off his training lightsaber, he composed himself. "I supposed we've worked hard enough. Let's take a break." Anakin could shake himself out of this daze he's been under the last couple of days. Compounded by the trauma he's experienced in the entirety of his 22-year-old life and the fact he's been overworked in a losing war, his face gained wrinkles under his eyes.
"Maybe you need to rest." Ahsoka proposed.
"That's a good idea." He conceded. "I am going back to my quarters. Will you be-"
"I'll be fine." She cut him off. It's been two whole years since Ahsoka became Anakin's apprentice, he still sees her in somewhat the same light when they initially met. An insecure, quiet, yet, snippy 14-year-old grew into a more assertive, confident and outgoing personality.
As he departed, Ahsoka's stomach grumbled. It was time to eat. Her legs needed a rest too, having been on them all day. She couldn't remember the last time she rested. Her diet consist of fruit, dry toast, rice, meat, and fish. Ahsoka didn't trust the meat in the cafeteria of the Jedi Temple. She couldn't understand during her formative years how her school chums could swallow the rough flesh.
Barriss took her seat directly across from her friend. A yellowish-green skinned Mirialan looked sheepish, abnormal for someone typically comfortable. "Barriss, what's wrong?"
"My Master was killed in battle." She barley contained the growing sorrow within her. "I just found out."
"Oh, Barriss I am so sorry." Ahsoka reached and put a comforting hand on Barriss' trembling arm resting on the table. "If there is anything I can do."
"Not much you can do." She says "Death is a part of life, as Master Yoda said. She's one with the Force now." Ahsoka nodded. "I better get going."
"You can stay with me." Ahsoka offered. Company would be good for Barriss. People experiencing grief tend to enjoy company. But she shook her head. "No, I'm tired."
Barriss is her closest friend. The only one she can talk to about topics besides Jedi related business. Yet, they haven't seen much of each other last few months. Despite being just two-years Ahsoka's senior, Barriss was light-years ahead of her. Already Barriss was promoted to "Knighthood" and lead operations during The Clone War. Ahsoka stood in awe of Barriss' accomplishments, hoping she'll follow suit.
Barriss wanted time alone with her thoughts. Not knowing seclusion was the worst thing for her at this time. Her nerves of steel began to crack, she retreated further into herself. The last time she saw Master Luminara they two exchanged in a spat. The hurtful words Barriss said ran in her head on a loop, growing louder and louder. Rushing to her quarters Barriss did something she never once did since entering the Jedi Temple: she cried.