Although He Smiles

Chapter 14: "And what would you care for, my dear?"

"… Yeah, and she saw me in them. A Jedi saw me in her visions."

With the early morning sun still reminiscent of a molten press crushing them all, and the sand trying its best to work its way between their toes (despite the boots), the party of four trudged their way towards the business end of Mos Espa. Where she had been giving their conversation half an ear, Ahsoka's brow-markings quirked. Since when did their conversation turn to her?

"But don't Jedi have visions all the time?" From her position beside Anakin, Padmé's eyes snapped up to her Jedi protectors. Anakin's gaze followed her's, settling on the taller man and shooting Ahsoka a smile. Said ex-padawan heaved a sigh when Anakin found no offence in Padmé's quick dismissal.

"The Force works in mysterious ways, young ones." Qui-Gon offered, his hair slowly frizzing around his shoulders as he walked. While he took the full brunt of the sun and heat, for the shorter members of their party, he offered some form of forgiving shade. Ahsoka pulled her poncho up around her neck.

"Is that why you keep collapsing, Ahsoka?" Oh no… Something flashed behind Padmé's eyes, even brighter than Tatooine's twin suns. Ahsoka wanted to place a spanner somewhere in the whirring cogs of her mind.

"Yes, it's pretty much like that. They're pretty volatile. Master Qui-Gon offered to keep an eye on me… Until we can get back to the Temple and make sense of some of all this."

A group of rough characters sauntered past, and without warning, Ahsoka found herself slamming her shields up as they passed by. A purely instinctual reaction, which left her dazed. It was if someone had gone to hit her, and she'd flinched; or moved to defend herself, if her reaction said anything. The non-existence hairs on the back of her head stood on end, the Force almost breathing a warning down her spine. When her eyes turned to Master Qui-Gon, his gaze had also homed on the passing figures. A large hand was placed on her shoulder, directing her attention back towards the approaching plaza. His profile was cast in shade by the sun. "Try not to pay it any heed, Ahsoka. I think it would be best we make these dealings quick and easy."

There was no point in asking if he had sensed it or not — his reaction alone spoke of his unease. Despite his almost casual dismissal, something told her Qui-Gon was processing the information. "What do you suppose it is, Master?" She all but whispered up to him, careful not to alarm the other two members of their party.

"I'm not sure, Padawan. But keep your concentration on the here and now. I'll need you for today."

That sent a spark of warmth through her, despite the sudden cold that had settled at her finger-tips with the passing of the party.

Darkness had slowly been creeping into her waking hours, settling at the edge of her vision. It flooded her dreams, showing glimpses of a terrible evil that waited to engulf the galaxy whole. Ahsoka had grated her teeth and made a promise to do something, but what could she do? She had half-formed memories, recalled accounts of these proceedings that may or may not have been exaggerated. Personally knowing the company that set these effects in motion didn't help — she certainly couldn't tell when Anakin was exaggerating. Understanding his daily life experiences, being eaten by a rancor and cutting his way out of its stomach didn't seem farfetched.

But she did know one definite of this event. So in turn, she had her suspicions of what was awaiting them once they left this planet.

Master Kenobi had been the first Jedi in a millennium to kill a Sith. It was a well know fact, an act of heroics that Jedi younglings held in such awe that it was impossible for Ahsoka not to be asked what it was like to be padawaned to the legendary Skywalker-Kenobi duo. That was, until Darth Maul crawled out of that pit, even more deranged and psychotic than when Master Obi-Wan had put him there. Wreaking havoc across the galaxy and slaughtering any that stood in his way — Ahsoka had been sure to sit with Master Kenobi with a good cup of tea after that one. That had been a sullen affair; not many words were spoken. Anakin had already paid his condolences, even offering to talk through the Duchess' passing with Obi-Wan without actually saying he would; Obi-Wan wouldn't like her master's blatant show of affection. Unsurprisingly, Anakin's indirect offer was never taken up. She found Master Kenobi sat in his quarters and meditating when she came over to share a new brew of tea she thought he'd like.

Ever the good Jedi that he was.

A sliver of coldness snaked into Ahsoka's heart. Impassive grey eyes stared at her from above a court of the corrupt.

"Ahsoka?" She shook herself from her memories, finding herself entering the sandy, hazy plaza of Mos Espa. Her nose crinkled. It was a dusty hell-hole, no doubt about it. "Ahsoka, are you alright?" Blue eyes met brown.

"Yeah, I'm fine Master Qui-Gon. Don't worry about me."

A goodnatured laugh accompanied the smile settling around Qui-Gon's eyes and bearded chin. "Something tells me that the day I stop worrying over you, Ahsoka, will be a special day indeed."

Her boots came to a stop in the sand then and there. She wanted to smile, the desire was almost overwhelming. Almost. Instead, her brows turned upwards and the line of her lips fell. Anakin and Padmé passed her by, somewhat ladened down by the sole concentration of simply getting to the shop. That was, until Anakin stopped. Confused eyes turned to her.

"'Soka? Are you comin'?"

She stared past him, the brief moments Qui-Gon's back ensnared her gaze becoming enough to relive that morning within. When the rest of the ragtag group of Skywalkers, Queens and Jedi left the Skywalker residence, Ahsoka had stopped in the kitchen to finish latching her glove back in place. Her fingers traced a lightsaber burn she'd received earlier that week evading Ventr—Barriss' attack. The laugh of her nine-year-old Master called her gaze outside. The window was speckled with dirt, muggy in the corners of the transpariteel pane, but she could still make out the sight of Anakin sharing something amusing with the Jedi Master (at least what he thought was amusing). In return, the man simply folded his arms and offered the boy an indulging smile. A hand emerged from the poncho to gently rest on his shoulder.

...

Within a week the man would be dead. Within a week, a young man who'd barely stopped being a boy; would be left to care for the child out the window. His mother would die a horrible death, and so would the young girl smiling so softly upon them all.

Qui-Gon's gaze met her through the window.

Her stomach rolled, and her heart sunk.

Anakin's smile rivalled that of the happiest youngling. She was given a lopsided wave by the boy, Qui-Gon quirking a brow beyond the muggy window.

She had to do something.

"The galaxy itself to Ahsoka Tano. Come in, over." The shook herself from her thoughts. Somewhere in the miscellaneous part of her mind, Ahsoka realised that between the fits and zoning out, she had to stop it.

"Ahsoka Tano, this is Rogue Leader, come in, over. Skywalker to Tano, radio in!"

"Alright, Skyguy. There's no need to alert the entire battalion." A gloved hand curled around his shoulder when she stepped into him. Again, he offered her an incredulous look.

"Well, maybe you actually responding would help, 'Soka. I was gonna get Mister Qui-Gon to come have a look at you." A finger was poked into her hip, which prompted an offended 'ow!' from the recipient. "You just sorta stopped working."

As they caught up to the two remaining members of their party that hadn't been phased by Ahsoka's sudden pause, the once-padawan was half tempted to chastise him. 'I'm not an engine of yours that needs fixing, Skyguy' would have sufficed, but the boy didn't deserve it. No, he didn't deserve the many things that had befallen him in life.

"Mister Qui-Gon sir! Where are you going? Watto's store's this way." Anakin's confusion was proof in itself to how much attention he had been paying to that morning's discussions. With a weary smile, Ahsoka directed his shoulder after the towering Jedi Master.

"Come on. We need to pick up someone before we go any further."

"Would that someone be roughly three-foot two, chrome, and very talkative?"

…

Ahsoka would not lie. She almost did a double-take when the voice cut off anything that would have come out of Anakin's mouth. Whirring around, her eyes failed to place a face to the shadowed figure. However, waiting for her vision to adjust to the shade was unnecessary to know who lounged before them, boots kicked up on the cheap table.

Qui-Gon was a good distance in front, closely followed by a handmaiden who Ahsoka suspected was more than annoyed at the sun. However, the figure inclining in the shade of the tarp-sail above them smiled up at her. A glass of something was brought to his lips. Ahsoka folded her arms.

"Yes, he would be. And now he's seemingly accompanied by a Jedi Padawan who takes delight in jumping his friends —while sipping on something he probably shouldn't be sipping on this early in the morning. Where'd you get the credits, anyway?"

From the table he sat at, Obi-Wan Kenobi unfolded his ankles and sat up straight. The chair he inclined in landed on all four legs once more as grey eyes, decidedly more mischievous than she remembered leaving them, peered up at her.

"The bartender here thankfully takes Republic Credits in small amounts. Something about running short trips into the Inner Rim and needing loose change, I believe." A smile quirked the corner of his lips. "Its only Plotor Juice, Ahsoka. Care for a cup?"

At the all too familiar question, Ahsoka's eyes darted away. Instead, they came to land on the sandy-blonde hair of Anakin Skywalker… the intensity of his confusion still hadn't died down yet.

"Ahsoka. I don't wish to alarm you, but I believe you're being shadowed by a youngling."

Ahsoka resisted the urge to roll her eyes as she ushered Anakin before her. "Anakin Skywalker, meet—" she threw a hand towards the copper-hair padawan. However, what began as an automatic bid to facilitate introductions saw her hand freezing on Anakin's wrist. Obi-Wan's eyes darted to her's. The words were merely breath in her mouth.

Obi-Wan found something akin to a lost smile meeting his gaze, accompanied by the imploring gaze of this Anakin Skywalker.

"Obi-Wan Kenobi." He stood, reaching out a hand across the sand covered table to encourage Anakin's. Ahsoka was clearly never going to be able to finish that, whatever had started. Truth be told, when her hand had tightened around the boy's wrist and her attention was nabbed by something unseen to the rest of them, he'd been ready to dive forward and catch her before she'd make the ground. However, Anakin's hand slipped sedately into his, and Ahsoka breathed a sigh, a smile illustrating her approval of their exchange.

"Hello." The boy blinked in the sun, half his face immersed in the shade, but the other still doused in the murderous light of Tatoo One and Tatoo Two. Ahsoka released her death grip on the boy, finally seeming to step out of the reality only she could see, and back to the sandy plains of Tatooine.

"Sorry, Anakin. This is Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi padawan to Master Qui-Gon."

"—Who wants to know why his padawan is here, rather than where he was instructed to wait."

Ahsoka was cast in a cool shade when Qui-Gon finished striding towards them, Padmé tucked neatly behind him. Obi-Wan instinctually lowered into a bow.

"Master, it was too high a risk to send the astromech droid by himself into the port, not with, what…" his eyes darted around the foreign plaza, "half the Outer Rim's scum and villainy congregated here? Sending Jar Jar would have been asking for attention,"

"Not to mention somewhat useless if a struggle were to kick up." Ahsoka offered as she rested a hand on her hip.

"Yes, so I deemed it best to accompany the droid myself." He finished with another bow of his head. A smile tugged on Ahsoka's lips.

"A good call, my young apprentice." Qui-Gon unfolded his arms from his indignant stance, stepping back as his padawan stepped forward and out of the shadow. The sun assaulted his eyes as his master turned away. "Perhaps I can put you to good use, padawan." At the lift of Obi-Wan's brows, Ahsoka heard the word even though it was never spoken aloud. She'd come to memorise most of Master Kenobi's nuances. This one usually signified interesting or never would have guessed. Depending on the situation, of course.

"Anyway I can be of help, Master Jinn?" She spoke up, calling the attention of both Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan.

"Actually, yes."

Just behind them, Anakin pulled Padmé into another bout of 'why podracing is so cool' and 'what's your home planet like?' as Qui-Gon lead them through the plaza.

"While this toydarian seems to be in possession of the parts we need, I believe it would be best if we try other options."

"See if we're being swindled or not." Obi-Wan blinked in the sunlight.

"And what's the likelihood of that?" Ahsoka rolled her eyes, as Qui-Gon hummed in agreement.

"That's why I want you two to go make enquiries. Report back if you find anything."

The two padawans shared a brief glance — acknowledgement — before they were both offering a bow to the Jedi Master. "Of course, Master."

Unison. That garnered a strange twist of Qui-Gon's lips before he'd stopped in the shade Watto's overhang offered. Padmé and Anakin ventured inside, unhindered by the lacking company. Outside, however, a brief flash of cold passed between the Jedi.

"I want you to exercise caution, padawans." It wasn't solely the heat of Tatooine's twin suns that pressed down on them. "I sense something."

"Yes, I sense it too, Master. Somewhere… elsewhere…. elusive." Obi-Wan furrowed his brows, a hand emerging from the folds of his discoloured poncho to run along his braid. He absently twirled a bead between finger and thumb.

But at the sudden change in tone, Ahsoka unfolded her arms. "Master, maybe there's something you should know."

When both their eyes shot to her, widened and somewhat perplexed, Ahsoka shook her head. It was easy to guess what conclusions they'd come to, but no. She wouldn't tell them of the future. In all honesty, she could offer little insight to the current situation, other than how they'd managed to procure the parts for the hyperspace generator. It had something to do with the four foot nine Anakin Skywalker she could just see past the frame of the doorway, his piloting skills and knack for finding trouble ensuring his presence in the Order and their hearts.

"Ahsoka. Whatever advice or warning you're—"

"No, Master, it's not that." A beat. "I had a vision."

There was no sarcastic comment or observation from Obi-Wan — somehow she'd been expecting it. Instead, Qui-Gon calmly folded his arms. "Judging by your desire to share this vision with us, you've seen events that you are unfamiliar with."

Ahsoka offered her affirmation by squeezing her eyes shut, before opening them again. "I'm not sure what it was, only that I've never seen or heard of it before. It wasn't of the future I know."

Qui-Gon simply harrumphed after a long breath, his padawan watching on with keen eyes. "Perhaps it would be wise to share this, then. However, keep in mind that your presence here, Ahsoka, has undoubtedly begun to change events. It is possible you have already set a new future in motion."

Obi-Wan's eyes shot to her's then, and Ahsoka blinked back before turning once more to the towering frame of Qui-Gon. "I saw the caravan, Master, the one we were watching yesterday. On the horizon." Recognition flared in his brown eyes. "But they'd stopped for the night. I'm supposing the dust storm forced them to, so they were huddled around the transports for protection. But there was one, shrouded in darkness."

"She tumbled down the sand dune." Obi-Wan muttered, finally letting go of his braid. His arms fell together within the folds of his poncho, his gaze rising from the sandy ground beneath their boots to settle on the blue of his friend's.

"How did you—?" She started, eyes narrowing at him.

"I'm supposing your self proclaimed mandate to protect the astromech wasn't the only reason for you joining us, was it Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon spared an estranged glance for the plaza beyond as Obi-Wan ducked his head.

"No, Master."

The older man let out a defeated huff. There was certainly more to Obi-Wan's presence and nervous glances to the girl beside him, but this was neither the time nor place. Something itched at the back of his neck, the Living Force swirling in muted warning. "We'll continue this later. Have you both got your communicators?"

"Yes, Master."

"Right here, Master Jinn."

As Ahsoka's communicator flashed in the sun, Qui-Gon smiled. "Alright. We'll meet back here by 1500 hours."

"Hopefully sooner. I don't fancy spending another day on this planet."

Obi-Wan's quip earned him an arched brow from Ahsoka. "Which one is it? Jar Jar or the sliders?"

"The heat, more like."

She shook her head, but stilled when she felt Qui-Gon's gaze on her. However, there was something, she'd say, mischievous in his eyes when the corner of his mouth turned up. "Keep an eye on him, Ahsoka. Obi-Wan has a knack for getting himself into particularly troubling situations without trying."

Her smile grew tenfold, her pointed teeth on display for all. "Will do, Master."

At her brow waggle, Obi-Wan scoffed. "What?"

"You're alright, Kenobi." She smiled, waving a dismissive hand towards her grandmaster. "But before we leave, I have to talk with Padmé."

And as she slipped into the store, she felt Qui-Gon follow her in. Ahsoka breathed in the cool air, feeling the heat brush off her like water off a grituck's back. Padmé gestured her over with eager eyes when she found the padawan in the entrance. Ahsoka gladly obliged her.

"Padmé,"

"Hmm?" The younger girl smiled up at her, glancing once to where Anakin shared a fast-paced exchange with his owner. The fat Toydarian buzzed around the small boy, all the while scratching his chin and making wild gestures. Anakin folded his arms and frowned up at the alien.

"I'm heading out with Obi-Wan to search for the parts we need elsewhere."

"A wise plan, perhaps." Her gaze remained on Anakin — Ahsoka got the distinct impression that Padmé wasn't exactly fond of the entire situation. Slavery, Ahsoka could imagine, was an adverse concept to the young queen of a liberal planet. It was adverse to anyone who had a heart.

"I wish you luck."

"Thank you." Ahsoka dipped her head. "But I thought perhaps I could do you a favour."

"How so?"

Qui-Gon passed them by, heading for Watto with Artoo in tow. The blue alien seemed surprised to see the Jedi Master again, buzzing backwards with wide arms as he chuckled. Ahsoka paid the spoken Huttesse little heed — it deserved little attention — before Padmé's gaze was back on her again.

"We'll be heading out towards the slave auctions. I thought Obi-Wan and I could pick up the prigulian while we're there."

Recognition flared in Padmé's eyes, but as the girl went to retrieve the little credits that Shmi could spare, she hesitated. With a desolate smile, Ahsoka placed an arm to the sleeve of Padmé's peasant garb. That flow of cold again coursed over the young queen's arm, the reassurance and calm pressing to her skin like a cool breeze. She offered Ahsoka a mental thank you, hoping the Jedi padawan could sense her thanks. And with a calmer resolve, her hand continued to retrieve the credits and place them into Ahsoka's awaiting palm.

"Good luck. And be careful."

"Thank you, and I will. May the Force be with you, Padmé." Ahsoka bowed away as she made her exit. Padmé watched her go, unable to stop the feeling that she'd somehow failed Anakin's mother by not going out and doing the chore herself. But, as Ahsoka said, she and Kenobi were headed that way, and… Mos Espa wasn't exactly the most hospitable of places for a young woman, let alone the Queen of Naboo. It would be foolish to go out herself. Anakin would have been of little help if he'd accompanied, despite his big heart. Padmé sighed as she turned back to the exchange just outside the back entrance to Watto's store. It was best that the two padawans went and retrieved the prigulian, and she stay under the protection of Master Jinn, and out of suspicion's way.

Meanwhile, outside the junk shop, Ahsoka finished tucking the meager amount of credits into her utility belt. The heat once again slathered itself to her skin and Ahsoka curled her lips in disgust.

"Will we be making a detour to the slave auctions?" Obi-Wan joined her side, and Ahsoka spared him a glance.

"Yes. While I don't doubt Padmé could handle herself if she got into a situation," she shook her head, her hands falling away from her belt. "I don't like the idea of sending her out by herself. It'd be too dangerous."

"No, you're right. The idea of her wandering around the streets of Mos Espa… It's not exactly comforting."

"Exactly. Urgh." Out of nowhere, the Force pulsed. With a hand to her head, Ahsoka tried to deflect the invisible knife that plunged itself into her skull. "Force." An awkward footfall sent her world spinning, the beige of the sand merging with the blue sky, and she would have met the ground if it hadn't been for the wall of tunic she fell into.

"Ahsoka."

Strong hands gripped her, ponchoed arms pulling her away from the searing sand and back to reality. This was an all-too familiar position; Obi-Wan had the bruise on his hip to prove it. However, Ahsoka waved off his caution with a well-meaning frown. No, it wasn't another fit. But if their current arrangement said anything, then something was most certainly hammering against the mind of their mysterious charge.

"It's nothing. I'm okay."

"Are you sure?"

She fell away from him, hands now tentatively brushing her montrals. She seethed once, but soon dismissed the strain and regathered her composure. "Yeah, I'm good. It's just — " Her eyes went to the horizon of sand just beyond the plaza and space port. Obi-Wan followed suite, and as he stretched himself through the Force, he felt a pin-sharp point begin to needle at his presence as well. Shields were rammed up just as Ahsoka once again fortified her own.

There was something, no doubt. Ahsoka turned her gaze back to her grandmaster, who was merely a padawan. "You said we shared the same vision last night. You saw it too."

Obi-Wan absently gnawed on the side of his mouth, and Ahsoka saw him weighing unseen options in his mind. Whatever came out of his mouth next, she knew she wasn't hearing the entire truth. In some ways, she could live with that. It wasn't like she wasn't keeping her own secrets.

"I saw the convoy, and the figure you spoke of."

Ahsoka folded her arms over herself, her gaze once again settling on the bustling plaza. "You said she tumbled down the sand dunes."

"She stood facing you at the bottom. I couldn't see her face, but I could see your's."

At this, she spared Obi-Wan a glance. And as her arms tightened around her waist, Obi-Wan could see the suspicion whirring behind her eyes. "So the Force showed us the same vision, but from differing views." That was a change — the last vision she'd shared with Obi-Wan, she'd stood as her grandmaster on the banks of Mustafar, staring into the face of the fallen Anakin Skywalker.

Ahsoka blinked away from the horrid memory.

"It would seem."

"I wonder why." A hand came up to stroke at her chin, her boots reshuffling her weight in the sand. Obi-Wan watched on till eventually Ahsoka pressed her lips together and shook her head. Her hands fell away, but her frown remained. This has nothing to do with Anakin… I don't know what this is.

It was alarming; unsettling almost. In the face of Anakin, while she couldn't see a clear path to saving him, she knew who and what she was dealing with. With this… It wasn't Maul, she knew that much. Maul, she could predict. This… she was blind.

"Come on." Ahsoka smoothed her poncho back in place as she turned away. Obi-Wan fell in step beside her as they began their trek across the plaza.

Whatever was awaiting them… she just hoped they'd be prepared. It seemed she no longer had the advantage of hindsight.

After several hours spent walking in and out of the heat of Tatooine and the cool of every junk shop this side of the planet, Ahsoka Tano was about ready to call it a day and journey back to the cruiser (whether Obi-Wan was following or not). She'd threatened to collapse in the sand, but her companion's constant jabs kept her upright. When her boots began to reach impossible temperatures, she'd stopped Obi-Wan and pulled them both into the shade to continue walking. Thankfully Obi-Wan was happy to indulge her.

By midday, she was sure they'd walked the entire circumference of Mos Espa, and had precisely nothing to show for it… other than a headache and varying degrees of a suntan. They'd been laughed at, poked at, and snapped at by burly customers that she was quick to snap back at. She was sure Obi-Wan was just as amused at her ignoring him as he tried to step in, as she was when he did try to save her. Of course, he was a gentleman… so she made no comment except a 'thank you' when they walked away, leaving the patron jumping from foot to foot and cradling his shin.

Despite their best efforts to blend into the crowd of scum in the space port, they managed to draw attention to themselves. Perhaps it was the ridiculous assumed guise as bounty-hunters that Obi-Wan thought would be prudent. "Bounty-hunters? Pah! I know bounty-hunters when I sees 'em, kiddo. You two are nothing but a bunch of Inner Rim larvae come snooping for adventure."

They'd obviously made no progress there, so Obi-Wan was eager to move them onto the next junk-store. The entire afternoon was a litany of 'spot the Jedi padawans' and 'try down the road'.

"Now what would two Coruscanti kids want with a hyperdrive generator for, what'd'ya say? Nubian?"

"You're rather classy to be 'hunters, aren't ya'?"

"Next time, kids, don't try so hard."

Oh, but the pièce de résistance had to be, "You kids got stranded on Tatooine mid-honeymoon? Pft. What bad luck! My wife and I were stranded on Felucia when we went on our first honeymoon. I tell you, nothing beats the sight of waking up to…"

Ahsoka had zoned the gibbering Rodian out. Instead, her eyes began to roam the chaotic shop in feigned interest. It was easier to leave the man to his own conclusions rather than correct him and draw even more attention to themselves. Ahsoka would have to sit and stew as Mrs Kenobi for a few minutes. ("What's your name, boy?" "Oh, Obi-Wan Kenobi." "So you must be Mrs Kenobi." "No, the name's Ahsoka—." "Ahsoka Kenobi." The alien clucked his tongue as if trying out the ridiculous name. "Erh, I've heard worse.") After that, her husband (Urgh. Ahsoka did not resist the urge to roll her eyes) had been quick to ascertain that, "Nope, sorry kids. Don't have what'cha lookin' for. But if you really need to get back to the Inner Rim, you might wanna try the cantinas. There's always someone willin' to trade work with safe passage. But be careful with the exact definition of work. You don't wanna be sharing your bed! Haha! Know what I mean?"

Ahsoka was both tired and sick of this wild bantha chase by the time they'd finished up their useless undertaking. While originally she'd shared hopes with Master Qui-Gon that they could possibly find what they were looking for elsewhere… No, it seemed the Force was adamant that they go through Watto to escape. Ahsoka rolled her eyes for not the umpteenth time that afternoon. They should just stick Anakin in a pod and get it over and done with already. She'd organise the race, just let them leave this Force-forsaken planet already.

"I hate to say it," Obi-Wan scrunched his face as they stepped back into the sun. "But it seems our Toydarian dealer is the only one here that has what we need."

"Convenient." Ahsoka rolled her eyes (again). When Obi-Wan looked back at her, she was somewhat expecting him to reprimand her huff with at least a pointed brow; but no. As he turned away, Ahsoka was sure she didn't imagine the desolate smile that twisted his lips. They were both in the same boat, hurtling towards heat exhaustion and Mos Boredom.

Ahsoka crinkled her nose. Thank the Force she decided not to say that one aloud.

"Come on, I think we've deserved a break." Turning away, Ahsoka dropped her hands away from where they had been worrying the edges of her fraying poncho. It wouldn't do to adopt a more nervous habit of her's now — say, talking or biting her fingernails. It'd taken a while to grow out of that one. Surprisingly, Anakin hadn't been a fan of her more juvenile tendencies — hypocrite.

"We'll have to start heading back soon if we're to meet Qui-Gon by 1500 hours." Again, Obi-Wan fell in step beside her. Ahsoka nodded her head, about to give her agreement when suddenly,

"—fine stock! Fresh from the Zygra System!"

The call, loud and raucous, carried over the droves of people and unending sand to reach their ears. Ahsoka's montrals had no trouble discerning the commotion from where they stood, and even Obi-Wan seemed to send an apprehensive glance to the plaza around the upcoming bend.

"The slave auctions." Arms came up on their own volition to battle the sudden chill that had settled within her. Despite the heat, it was as though someone had doused her in water. But regardless the connotations, there was no relief to be found. Just an ugly memory of electrified collars, snarling feline faces and dangling thousands of feet above a city floor.

Ahsoka clenched her jaw. Zygra.

"Ahsoka?"

Was she biting down that hard? Her view of the corner which withheld the auctions was abruptly swallowed by a sway of tan and beige robes. Obi-Wan Kenobi's face appeared in her line of vision, immediately coming up at odds with the memory of a bruised and tortured face, blood marring an overgrown beard and eyes beaten to a cold silver.

"Ahsoka, we're blocking traffic."

"Ha? Oh."

Something collided with her shoulder, then another something, before she was being pulled to Obi-Wan's side and walked down the road. The air smelt of sorrow; sweat; fear. Ahsoka tried to pay little heed to the bodies that pressed to her side. They were merely creatures in search of blood… something to torment and parade about.

No wonder Anakin was forbidden to come here.

"My friends, do not fear the trandoshans. They are no different to any other slave! They can and will be broken." The slaver lauded above a crowd of eager listeners. Ahsoka was reminded of the circus performance she had seen on Skarrat III once with Anakin… this Zygerrian slaver presented his slaves like the ring master did his performers.

"Slaver scum." Ahsoka spat out from under her breath.

"You, my dear! What do you fancy?"

The metaphorical stage light was suddenly on her, the acrobats neatly folding away behind hidden curtains when centre stage was given to her. Ahsoka choked on the bile settling in the back of her throat. The blood-thirsty and impersonal crowd was suddenly facing her.

"Yes, you… and your friend. Your husband? Owner?" The Zygerrian laughed. "No, no… Forgive me. You're too well kept. Husband it is then. But what do you desire?" Ahsoka saw darkness. "Perhaps a child?"

The shoulder merely brushing at her side became a solid wall when Obi-Wan stepped into her. She found the laughing face of the Zygerrian scum merging and fading with the crowd.

"It's a despicable practice…" Obi-Wan tore his gaze away, and in the manner that he did suggested it had been a challenge to do so. She supposed it was like the old saying Anakin was fond of using — "It's like a podracer crash — you just can't look away". It was cruel that the idiom applied to the current situation. "And it's even more despicable that his galaxy still hasn't seen fit to abolish it." Obi-Wan finished off with a heated frown.

Ahsoka let the padawan steer her away, but the change of scenery did nothing to remove the image of electro-whips and the wicked cackle of Zygerrian's slavers. She felt the harsh cord rip and burn into her back. Her head snapped away on it's own accord.

"Ahsoka? Are you alright?"

They'd come to a stop between two stalls, the slowly dwindling crowd winding through the main street and away from them. When had they stopped? Looking up revealed the familiar grey of her grandmaster's eyes staring into her, imploring her… she blinked away the memory of the forty-year old man, and instead came face to face with the twenty-five-year-old padawan.

A warm hand pressed to her wrist — Ahsoka's gaze snapped down, instinct wanting to send her hands snapping back to the safety of her sides. Obi-Wan's grip tightened, just enough to still her worry. "It's alright. It's only me."

When he peeled one hand away from the other, she saw the red marks, raw and angry, along her wrists. Had she done that?

"Careful." He turned her wrists gently in his hands, a frown permeating across his brows. Concern…

Ahsoka's jaw fell with unformed words.

His gaze met her's again briefly before a hand was pressing over the marks. Then came the swirl of the Force, the familiar hum seeming to resonate in their bones, before his hand was falling away once more. And there, no longer angry nor red, her tanned skin sported a stream of white marks.

"You'll need to put bacta on that when we get back to the cruiser. Who knows what infectious microspores Tatooine's atmosphere harbours."

Ahsoka knew this part. Obi-Wan was playing off his kindness by putting on a pretentious front — or as Anakin like to call it, "Distracting with big words. You sometimes have to remember to thank Obi-Wan — he'll only prompt you in jest." This was usually followed by a sad smile. "But he does deserves all the thanks we can give him."

Ahsoka shared Anakin's dismal smile in that moment. What could prompt a man with that much love for his brother to want to kill him? No. Not just kill him, but destroy him — every last good deed and word that breathed Kenobi.

~I loved you.~

"Thank you, Obi-Wan."

"You could thank me by perhaps explaining why I had to stop you from completely lacerating your wrist."

Ahsoka bit the side of her mouth. A gust of wind rifled her lekku and poncho, sending Obi-Wan's padawan braid skittering across his chest. She watched the odd occurrence for a moment, before she shook her head.

"I have bad experiences with slavers." At Obi-Wan's head turn, Ahsoka sighed. "It was a mission gone wrong. The Zygerrian's took my people. For five days outside the Royal Palace on Zygeria, kept in a cage a thousand feet above the ground, I waited for my master to come rescue me." When she turned away, Obi-Wan struggled to pick up her words behind her embittered croak. "Let's just say I'm not fond of slavers."

"I'm sorry."

Ahsoka laughed, the sound empty. "Hey, it wasn't your fault."

It must have been the way she said it, for next she found Obi-Wan's hand at her arm. "Your master should have come sooner."

What? How dare — "He would have if he could." She bit back before she could control her outbreak. It was too late, the venom had already begun to set in on Obi-Wan's resolve, but his hand never fell away. Stupid. It didn't take her long to figure out where this had come from. Qui-Gon had told her yesterday — Obi-Wan was under the impression that she was his padawan. Ahsoka sighed inwardly. Well, if anything had ever happened to Anakin (force-forbid) during those long missions, then yes. She most likely would have become his padawan, and he her master.

A new light was cast upon his last comment. Ahsoka smiled, hoping to placate him by placing a hand over his. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have —" She sighed.

"There's nothing to apologise for Ahsoka. And… thank you for telling me about what was troubling you."

And finally, those grey eyes did what they should have done when she'd been placed in front of a faceless jury and condemned. Warmth unravelled from somewhere inside, comfort now a tangible force within her.

"Come. There's little here that we can do." And he was right. It made her sick to her stomach, but there was nothing that two Jedi padawans could do to liberate a whole operation of slaves — especially when one was no longer even a Jedi. Instead, Ahsoka found herself standing before the featureless stall of an old woman, purchasing unknown flavours of the prigulian jams Shmi had requested.

"Ms Skywalker always likes fringle berry. Oh! And klop-klop."

"Thank you."

The wind howled behind them as Ahsoka watched the old, hunched woman place each jar of jam in a fraying netted bag. In the corner of her eye, she placed Obi-Wan at another store, bartering with a jawa over… he'd said something about spare parts for repairs, didn't he?

"You're a long way from home, child." The comment caught her off guard. Between the howling wind (which had been gradually picking up in the last hour) and the dry heat, Ahsoka blinked at the hooded woman. How could she—? But she couldn't. Ahsoka mentally slapped herself and smiled.

"Coruscant. The Inner Rim."

"Ooh. Such a long way that you've come." The weak voice spoke up from beneath the hood. A tendril of white hair swayed loosely in the wind, and Ahsoka's smile grew once more.

"Yes, it was a long way."

"Will you be heading back any time soon?" The woman resumed her task, wrapping and bagging another jar of jam.

Ahsoka breathed a heavy sigh. "I don't know."

"Be careful, my dear. It's not always nice knowing what the future may hold… I think it would be a curse if we did, don't you agree my dear?"

Again, Ahsoka was caught off guard by the comment. She pressed her lips together, counting the jars of jam that wrinkled hands packed away.

"Sometimes it's good to see where you're headed." She quietly offered. The hands ceased their movements.

"And who do you bring along with you, dearest?" Long, witch-like fingers settled flat against the counter top. The wind howled at her face; hot and dry. But then, like a pin-prick, the ice began it's triage. A muted warning; the Force swirled in quiet tones around them. It wasn't enough to set off any warning alarms within her, but Ahsoka set her jaw.

"Whoever wants to come along."

A haunting cackle came before her movements began again, the netted bag being gathered in weather-worn hands.

"They all the give the same answer, little one. But tell me this."

One of those decrepit hands snatched her wrist — there was strength there that somehow screamed unnatural. Ahsoka looked up, met by the yellow eye of the woman.

"Who do you love, and who do you leave behind?"

The togruta gave a desperate tug, a thoughtless bid to extract her hand — neither of them budged. "Get off me!" Fingers pressed into her wrist. Ahsoka snarled, finding resolution by reaching into the presence around them. A hand went up, rearing to push the woman away.

But then she froze. Her entire body went rigid, the ancient power that resided within her dying in an instant. All that she was left with was her own laboured breathing.

"I'd tell you now — it would save you a lot of pain later on." The yellow flickered, the ancient voice suddenly giving way to a voice both measured and cultured. "But answer me this. How many times must a man die before the mistake is realised?"

She was suddenly helpless, Ahsoka realised. This was it — the darkness. The unknown. This wasn't Maul. This wasn't Anakin… The Clone Wars. The Seperatists. Count Dooku. Darth Sidious... She didn't know.

And in the face of such harrowing comprehension, Tano did the only thing she could think of.

She called for Kenobi.

A cruel smile twisted below the darkened hood.