When Ahsoka and Anakin got back to the Temple hangar, Mace Windu was waiting for them.
"Master Windu?" Anakin squinted, his face twisted in absolute confusion. "Did someone finally come up with Force teleport while I was out in the field?"
Ahsoka held back a laugh. Either that or Windu had done some highly illegal driving to beat them here.
Windu glared at both of them. "Even if that was so, Skywalker, no one would allow you to learn such a technique," he said, sternly. "I am here to inform you the Council has ordered you Temple bound."
"You can't do that," Ahsoka protested, before Anakin could voice the string of foul words and phrases—most probably referring to Yoda and Windu's mothers—she knew was running through his head. "At least, not to me, you can't." She couldn't keep a smirk off her face.
Windu raised an eyebrow. "The order doesn't apply to you, for obvious reasons." He sounded almost disappointed. "But that doesn't mean it won't keep you here."
Ahsoka opened and then closed her mouth. He was right.
Anakin snapped out of the enraged silence he'd fallen into. He'd managed not to go purple this time around. "What's the reason for the order?" His eyes were already narrowed in contempt at the answer to his question.
"The Council is aware you have plans to pursue Barriss Offee, and has decided you are too close to the matter," Windu informed him. "That, subsequently, will cloud your judgment and impede justice. Every being deserves a fair trial."
Is he serious?
Ahsoka was sorely tempted to Force push Windu across the room and strangle him, but instead she closed her eyes and reached out into the Force, trying to find a sense of calm. That only made things worse—the Force was clouded and dark and not the comforting presence she'd always known it to be. And as she realized this, her mouth seemed to form words of its own accord. "'Every being'?" she asked quietly, taking a step closer to Windu. "You seem to define 'every' differently than I do, Master."
Windu merely glanced at her. "Your definition seems to be clouded by your emotions, Former Padawan Tano."
After a long moment, where Ahsoka and Mace just stared each other down, the former Jedi felt Anakin's mechno hand settle onto her shoulder. The bond, despite the fact it was paper thin and near non-existent, rang with understanding.
Windu looked a bit smug as she took a step back, and she didn't care to tell him that Anakin's gesture wasn't to reel her in, but to remind her there were battles actually worth fighting.
And that Mace Windu was, nine times out of ten, not one of them.
"There is, of course, a way to override the order," Windu said as they turned to go. "Promise that if you go out and look for Offee, and capture her, she won't be returning to the Temple in a body bag."
Anakin and Ahsoka stopped, traded a look, and then glanced over their shoulders at Windu. "Sorry," the Jedi Knight intoned flatly. He didn't sound very apologetic at all. "But I try not to make promises I can't keep. Good rid—good day, Master Windu."
The duo left the hangar, an unsaid this isn't over in their wake.
Anakin barreled furiously out of the lift into the Halls of Healing before slowing down, letting Ahsoka take the lead. He didn't, in that moment, remember the way to her room.
Neither of them said a word, but various healers and even a few patients seemed to do a double take at the anger radiating off the both of them. Anakin ignored the stares and glared, stomping through the puddles of sunlight that dappled the hallway Ahsoka led him into and pretending that they were Mace Windu's face.
This means war.
Ahsoka found her door and pressed a button on the small control pad beside it. The rectangle of durasteel slid back into the wall, and she entered through the doorway. Anakin followed and made a beeline for the chair by the window, sitting down. Once he got comfortable, he glanced up at his former apprentice. She sat at the bottom of the bed—on the side that wasn't pushed up against the wall—legs pulled almost to her chest and staring out the window at the cityscape of Coruscant with unseeing eyes.
He had never seen someone so young look so tired.
There was a knock, and Ahsoka's gaze shifted from the window to the door. She frowned irritably. "Not—not now."
"Former Padawan Tano, it's Vokara Che, the Chief Healer," a clipped, feminine voice with a sharp Twi'lek accent replied after a few moments. "May I come in?"
Ahsoka hesitated. "Fine," she conceded flatly.
The door opened, and a tall, middle-aged Rutian Twi'lek entered. Her cool blue eyes quickly took in Anakin and Ahsoka, her forehead creasing into a frown as she noticed their injuries. "The Council has informed me you two were caught in an explosion." She paused. "What is the meaning of this, Skywalker?"
Anakin frowned right back. He'd had a few run-ins with Vokara Che over the course of the Clone War, especially around the beginning—he'd been kicked out of the Halls of Healing on multiple occasions for 'disrupting the peace', as the Jedi Master so kindly liked to phrase it. "Nice to see you too, Master Che," he said testily, sarcasm edging his tone. "And this isn't my fault—blame Barriss Offee."
"Oh, I do." Vokara nodded, tightly clasping her hands behind her back. "But as you know, I also do not react kindly when the healing of my patients is impeded. If Ahsoka had not been allowed to leave with you this morning—I honestly don't know what that Healer was thinking—we might not be here right now."
Ahsoka studied the other humanoid, wariness evident in her expression. "…what does that have to do with anything, Master Che?"
I'm starting to wonder the exact same thing…
"You're still recovering from that blaster wound, Ahsoka." Vokara's voice sounded almost, but not quite, gentle. "I believe it would be best if, until further notice, you were required to stay in the Temple until you're fully healed."
"And by that, Master, you mean until further notice from the Council." Ahsoka looked Vokara in the eye.
"If that's what you want to think," Vokara said, her voice still almost gentle but now slightly dismissive. She turned to go. "I'll be sending a medical droid for you both. Good day."
She left, and Anakin and Ahsoka were alone again.
"Just exactly who does the Council think they are?" Anakin spat, springing to his feet and beginning to pace the room. "They can't do this. They can keep me here, but not you. This—"
Ahsoka cut him off. "It doesn't matter. It's not like we're staying here anyway."
Anakin froze mid-pace. "Ahsoka…" he trailed off. "If one of us is going to sneak out of here, I don't think—" he stopped. It would snow on Tatooine before Ahsoka would let him leave her behind, that much was certain. Hesitantly, he backtracked. "…security's stronger at night."
Ahsoka paused, and then grinned. "Right," she agreed. "But there's no way we're getting out of here in broad daylight. And I wouldn't put it past Master Windu to guard the doors himself."
"I wouldn't put a lot past Windu," Anakin muttered, starting to pace again. "I can't believe they're defending Barriss so hard—this is what's going to make them look like they've got ill will against the Republic. That we're all like Barriss." He was tempted to say when word of the Council's playing of Devil's advocate got out, the Order would be in several star systems of trouble; but then he thought of that Mirialan couple. The galaxy was a big place—they weren't the only ones who thought like that. Only time would tell who the public would side with.
He glanced up at Ahsoka, who was staring off into the distance again. Her eyes weren't unseeing anymore, though, and she was clearly deep in thought. But he couldn't help but think how much like a little kid she looked.
It was hard not to see her as the snippy new padawan who'd all but skipped into his world.
Ahsoka's eyes flicked to him. "Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked, suspiciously. "I know that look. It's your sentimental look."
"…there's a look?"
"You can't miss it."
Anakin snorted. He had never been able to figure out how Ahsoka read him so easily. "I just…" he paused, searching for the right words. He decided to go the simple route. "Are you okay, Ahsoka?"
Ahsoka broke eye contact and looked away, saying nothing for the longest time. "I don't know," she said finally, with a sigh. "I've been asking myself that for a while now."
Since she left the Order—or even before then? Anakin thought. Aloud, he said, "It'll get better." He crossed over to the bed and sat down nextto her. "I promise."
Ahsoka didn't reply, and Anakin didn't blame her. He remembered all too well the last time he had promised her something: I'll never let anyone hurt you, Ahsoka—never. A part of him knew he couldn't have foreseen or changed every horrible thing that happened next, but a bigger part insisted he should have tried harder to protect his former padawan.
Barriss'll be lucky if there's anything left of her to put in a body bag after I find her.
He had told Windu he didn't make promises he couldn't keep. Now, he had to try harder than ever to make that the undisputed truth.
Beeeep.
Ahsoka slowly blinked opened her eyes as the shrill shriek of an alarm cut through the air. With a groan, she sat up and reached in the general direction of the nightstand, finally managing to find the button that would silence the chronometer's alarm. She glanced at the time, which cast a soft blue glow and was the only light in the room. It was midnight.
This spurred her into action—she didn't have much time. Kicking off the blanket and springing out of bed, she sensed her way through the dark with the Force over to her bag and pulling out what she hoped was an okay outfit. Changing out of her pajamas and into it, she pulled on her boots and ducked into the bathroom.
She went over her and Anakin's plan in her head for what felt like the thousandth time as she brushed her teeth—it'd been the last thing on her mind as she'd drifted off to sleep and the first thing on it when she awakened, after all.
Risky didn't begin to define it, even compared to many of the insane plans she'd seen Anakin come up with over the course of the Clone War.
But it would win in the reckless category, she thought as she left her room and started down the hallway, which was gently illuminated by lamps at intervals on the wall. The Temple med bay was open twenty-four hours a day, but she didn't pass anyone or anything and made it to the atrium without incident.
Ding.
Her breath caught as the doors to a lift on the left opened, and she turned to speed back the way she came.
"Ahsoka," Anakin hissed in a stage whisper, sticking his head out of the turbolift and glancing around. His eyes landed on Ahsoka as she turned back to face him, and he sighed in relief. "Good, you're up—right on schedule."
Ahsoka raised an eyemarking as she joined Anakin inside the lift. He had never been one with much regard for schedules, much to everyone's chagrin. "I hope this works."
"Oh, it will," Anakin said firmly, running a hand through his hair, which was three brushstrokes away from being bedhead but really still very messy, as if he made those strokes without looking in the mirror—swipes in the dark. He selected HANGARS on the lift's control panel, and it started downwards with a jolt.
The duo rode in silence, though Anakin kept flipping up and then pulling down the hood on his cloak and Ahsoka found herself suddenly very interested in her nails.
After what felt like hours, the lift came to a stop and the doors slid apart. Anakin stepped out first, stretching out an arm to keep Ahsoka from walking forward, and then scoping out the entrance to the hangar. There were no guards in sight, so he gestured for her to follow, keeping close to the wall and in the shadows.
Ahsoka willed her heart not to pound so hard, certain the entire Temple would be able to hear it if it didn't slow down.
Anakin glanced at her. "Nervous?" he asked in a whisper, smirking slightly.
She snorted, quietly. "You wish—"
"Halt."
Ahsoka watched Anakin stiffen at the same time she did, and both whirled around to face a coldly glaring Mace Windu. He was accompanied by two Jedi Guards, their faces hidden by masks and their hands gripping the hilts of their ornate lightpikes.
"Master Windu," Anakin began, carefully. "There is a perfectly good explanation for—"
"Cut the phobium, Skywalker." Mace's features seemed to be set in his infamous glare, and he took a step closer to the pair. "I know you and Former Padawan Tano were conspiring to sneak out of the Temple." His eyes narrowed. "And I'm sure—despite your long and complex history of disobeying the Council—she put you up to it."
"Kriff," Anakin swore under his breath, and Ahsoka hoped only she heard. "You assume too much, Master Windu," he said, louder this time. He studied the older man, and then nudged the bond with his mind. I was going to let you borrow this later, Snips, but… well, later came early. Catch.
Without another word, he produced a lightsaber from beneath his cloak and tossed it to Ahsoka. Half out of habit and half out of surprise, her hand shot out and caught it. Once she got a good look at the glittering metal cylinder, which was cold against and slightly too big for her hand, her heart sank. This hilt was all too familiar to her—she'd only seen it a thousand times while sparring and even more when it had been raised to deflect blaster bolts and protect innocents.
She felt a bitter taste settle against her tongue as she truly realized what she was looking at.
This was Barriss Offee's lightsaber.
