Hi! Constructive Criticism and reviews are, as always, welcomed. Thank you to the people who have reviewed! It makes my day to come home and see a review.
The red warning lights lit up her screen as a vulture droids lucky shots hit her fighter. Ahsoka grimaced and tried to swoop around to catch the droid ship unawares, but it had locked on to her, waiting for the right time to make a kill. She swerved left, then right, the shot straight down, trying to lose him. Come on... Come on... Come on...
She swerved again, but this time...
Too Late.
The red warning lights started blinking, and with a chord of horror she realized that she could no longer control the ship as it shot into a nearby planet's atmosphere. Her fighter spinning out of control, Ahsoka could only watch as she crashed into the rich soil of Felucia.
Then all she could see was black.
Jet Black.
Canary Yellow.
Electric Blue.
Olive Green.
Blood Red.
Tiger Orange.
Salmon Pink.
And plum Purple.
Ahsoka woke to the sight of the colors of Felucia before her, struck with all at their unblemished radiance. Besides the dappled brown, tan, and occasionally black, she didn't usually see much color at the temple. Sure the lightsabers were green, gold, and blue, but most Jedi didn't turn their lightsabers on at her home, except for sparring and teaching younglings. Before she had become a Jedi, back on Shilli, the sapphire, sienna, and seafoam shades of the plants and animals always cheered up her days. What was better than coming home to the sight of a purple bird sitting on your bed, preening it's pretty feathers? Part of the reason she herself wore pink, silver, red and multiple shades of brown, in addition to the natural blue and sienna of her skin tones, was because they were colorful, unlike the customary Jedi robes. She missed seeing something fun and full of color. It could just sometimes be so dreary. (The other reason she didn't even touch the robes was because the they were ridiculously heavy. Ugh! It was like drowning in fabric.)
But this... this was the most vibrant thing she had ever encountered. She snorted to herself. Her wardrobe didn't stand a chance.
Felucia stood proud and tall, stretched out before her like... like nothing she had ever seen before. Well, it did remind her of something: art, like the clone's painting on the gunship. Her heart gave a painful twang. She shook herself, dismissing the thought. She would not think about that tragedy, or as she had dubbed him, Painter, and his unaccomplished dream while she was seeing something this wonderful. She wanted to bathe in the pure beauty of her surroundings, not wallow in his death. Besides, although she had only knew him for a moment, she knew that he would agree with her sentiment. Ahsoka refocused on the world around her.
She blinked. Then blinked again. Wow... just Wow. Standing here was like standing in a dream. She had seen Felucia before, but never really noticed it. (Fighting a war can kinda distract her from the landscape.) The first time she was here she was a preoccupied trying to find a way off this "rock" so she and her masters could inform the republic of the destruction of the medial base, and the time after that, she was a little busy being stalked by a Trandosion hunter. This time, she actually got to enjoy peace. A bittersweet smile leapt to her lips. Like Painter wanted to.
~(o)~
Rex peered outside the gunship, scanning the ground as it whizzed. It had been 1/4 rotation since Ahsoka had crashed, and both Anakin and him had started to get nearly sick with worry. The only difference between his Jedi leader and himself was that he had a helmet to help disguise his concern. His leader, however, looked about a minute or two away from biting his nails.
"Commander." Nail, a shiny, pointed toward the smoke of a rising cloud of slate smoke drifting through the blue sky. "I think we found her."
His stomach plunged. He knew she had crashed, but he didn't think it was this bad. One of the many skills Anakin Skywalker had passed to his apprentice-or tried to, at least-was his skills at flying. Usually she crashed safely, and walked away unharmed. She was fine... she had to be fine. The smoke begged to differ from his sentiment. He gripped his handle bar even tighter. She could be hurt or wounded, lying in the wreckage of her burning ship.
Rex fought to get his rearing emotions under control. He nodded at Nail. "Take us down."
The gunship flew toward the light before land gracefully, despite it's enormous size, on the ground. Rex stepped out, near panicked, only to see a distracted padawan looking at something... A flower?
"Commander?" He questioned.
Ahsoka spun around, shoving whatever it was into the little pouch at her side. "Rex!"
He felt a small smile break out form behind his bucket. "How are you, Commander?"
Grief leapt to her lips as she smiled-a tinge sadly-at the captain. "Just living the dream, Rex."
The gray mountain of the resolute greeted their eyes as they flew home, back into battle.
Away from Felucia.
Away from peace.
Away from Art.
