"Wake the Ashes"
Chapter Twenty-One: Pawns In The Game We Play
"He who hires my hand, hires my whole self."
-from the precepts of Jango Fett's Bounty Hunter code
For the first time, Boba Fett was allowed to be put under command of a select few Imperial stormtroopers. After doing a series of several jobs for the Empire, this new level of leadership and responsibility could not be taken lightly. More than not, Boba's true qualities as a bounty hunter had to be put to the test by placing him in command.
In spite of himself, the moment he had been told he was put in charge of troops filled him with excitement. It was almost giddiness, much like the time he got to hold and fire a blaster for the first time when he was a young boy. He had missed feeling such a strong, energizing emotion. Too bad he had no one to share the good news with. No other bounty hunters he could visit at the moment, not even during his very short breaks at the end of each week. So he celebrated by himself. He was used to that.
The following evening, his first orders from his superiors arrived.
"A wanted suspect of anti-Imperial crimes has been spotted on the outskirts of the capital city. Your orders are to apprehend the fugitive and take her in alive. Use whatever means necessary."
This is part of another test, Boba thought. They gave me this much responsibility as part of a test to see how well I can handle it. In their eyes, I'm still just a bounty hunter, even though I am working for them under a contract. They don't know what I can do or how far I will follow orders. That's the risk they took before I went into this.
That means it's also my chance to show them what I can do. If I can do well with this job, right now, it doesn't just mean they'll pay me well. I'll be given more challenging and rewarding jobs after this. I can not mess this up.
He had been in positions of leadership before, granted, but this one carried more weight than any other he had taken in the past. If he could not prove his reliance as a bounty hunter under orders from the Empire, he would lose their trust and thus, their protection.
I can do this. I have to.
As soon as he received the message, Boba ordered the troops to move out to the last known location of the suspect, where she had supposedly been spotted five minutes earlier. He followed a hologram map of the city, noticing, with slight interest, that the last place the fugitive had been spotted was also where a recent protest against the Empire was just beginning to take place.
Boba read up on the intel regarding the protest. It seemed to be a nonviolent, simple one. Nothing that would stir up riots, anti-Imperial propaganda, or anything of the sort. Mostly, the crowd consisted of a bunch of students from the local university, protesting the latest Imperial law banning non-Humans from attending the university. The crowd did not even amount to more than one thousand. Why said suspect would reveal themselves at such a trivial event, Boba could only wonder. It seemed out of place.
"Give me an update on the suspect. What do we already know about her?"
"The suspect is a Togrutan, female. She is armed with two blasters, and possibly a lightsaber stolen from the Imperial Palace."
"Set your blasters for stun. Let's bring her in."
As the ship touched down on the ground and the troops rushed into position, Boba received an update on the suspect's location. He ordered his troops out as he took a different route. The comm was humming with activity. The suspect was spotted on a watchtower overlooking the capitol building. Now she was on top of the train. Now she was on the top of the capitol building.
Boba activated his jetpack and left the transport. Below him, he could see the crowd of roughly one thousand students gathered on the city street in front of the capitol building. While his focus should be on the mission at hand, he could not help but steal a couple small glances at the event. He found it to be interesting. Students, Humans and non-Humans joining together, stood in front of the capitol building. Peacefully demanding that all species be given the right to an education. Then, as quickly as he and looked down, Boba looked away back to what he was doing.
He landed on the roof of the building and ran across as fast as he could.
"Troopers! Surround the building now. We have her cornered."
A lightsaber swooshed in front of him. Boba, startled, slipped out of the way just in time and he launched a cable blindly, hoping to throw the suspect off. He got back to his feet. Then he saw her standing in front of him. She was staring right back.
In an instant, Boba realized something. He recognized her.
And she was much more than just another person who had committed some anti-Imperial activity and was now on the run. This was one of the rarest kinds of fugitives from the Empire.
A Jedi.
Boba had done his studying of the list of wanted Jedi—which changed a lot over the years, the names shifting in order of 'most wanted' as more and more, little by little, were hunted down and killed by the Empire—but this. Surely this could not be who he thought it was. The young Jedi he remembered was all over the news in the Coruscant underworld the final year before the end of the war. The young Jedi apprentice to the Hero with No Fear, Anakin Skywalker, who died fighting in the Jedi Temple on the same day the Jedi attempted to overthrow the Senate. What was her name again? Tano.
If there was one thing Boba had forced himself to learn over the years, it was remembering faces. He did not want to forget what any potential associate, employer, or enemy looked like. And he remembered seeing this young Jedi before. Now all grown up, the facial markings had not left Boba's memory.
Of course, she had changed since Boba last recalled seeing what she looked like. One lekku was badly scarred from Force lightning. One eye was discolored, and her clothes were torn, and her orange complexion darkened and faded. It was as if this Jedi had aged thirty years in the past ten, which, as Boba came to understand in only these couple seconds of staring down each other, did not come as a big shock to him. This was her, without a doubt.
As soon as he realized who he was staring back at, Boba was also stricken with another realization. If the Empire had known she was a Jedi, and the notorious Tano at that, they obviously would have already told Boba about it in the report. But to them, she was just another suspect. They still had no idea who they were dealing with.
"Surrender, Jedi," Boba shouted at her.
She visibly reacted to the name 'Jedi,' which Boba took note of. Judging by the way her glare softened for a moment, and she stared at the bounty hunter in a brief moment of horror and anger, it could only mean that she had kept her true identity as a Jedi in the dark intentionally. It was no accident that she had been labeled as a mere 'suspect.'
Ahsoka stood her ground, returning Boba's death glare.
"I don't think so, sleemo."
Boba's mind raced. Should he tell them it was a Jedi they were dealing with? Should he just capture her and let them figure it out back at headquarters?
After all, Jedi were some of the most wanted criminals under the Empire. In the field of hunting down certain fugitives with a price on their head, every Jedi landed in the cream of the crop. Boba remembered some of the stories he had heard, stories of bounty hunters who captured Jedi alive. The reward money alone was trivial compared to the tally points, recommendations, and the popularity. Not to mention all the free drinks, even though Boba was not much for drinking.
"I'm sorry," Boba said. He shot his cable at her, snatching her lightsaber.
She rolled out of the way, using the Force to draw her lightsaber back to her as she ran towards him. He shot at her hand, knocking her off balance, before he allowed himself to be kicked backwards. As he landed on his back he sensed the heat of the blade against his neck, and he shot her again. Boba Fett heard a scream, a hiss, and he kicked her again to throw her off of him.
He could see her seething with anger. The pair closed in on each other, fighting hand-to-hand with lightsaber against blaster, brute force against stealth. She struck his helmet as he directly attached her side with the discolored eye. With every blow, Ahsoka seemed to fall back a little bit more, as if her body began to accept defeat but her heart physically refused to stop until she was torn to pieces.
And Boba's subconscious flooded with questions he could never directly ask himself in silence, or even ask her no matter how he wanted to. Questions he should not be thinking about, but because he had not seen this Jedi since she was just a Padawan fighting in the war, he could not help himself. What had happened to the apprentice of the Hero With No Fear ever since she vanished from the Order? What had she done in the last decade? Where was she when the Jedi were punished for their attempted uprising?
Could she answer some of Boba's own questions about what exactly happened during those tumultuous years?
She had no Master, no Order, no friends or allies by her side in this moment. Then why was this happening? Why did she still fight him and not back down? What was it inside her that kept her going, even as Boba could see his troops surrounding the top of the building and the carriers flashing their beams down onto their duel? She stood no chance. She could not possibly have any hope to find a way out of this. Ahsoka Tano was doomed to be defeated and taken away from the Empire.
And still she fought back.
When Boba did tell them that they had caught a Jedi, what would happen to her? he wondered. Based on what Boba knew about the Jedi, he knew, of course, that her treatment under captivity would be much different if her identity as a Jedi were revealed. Much worse, come to think of it. For the moment, she was just a suspect.
But Boba, here and there between whispers at the Imperial base, had heard the faintest of rumors of what happened to captured Jedi. One of the officers he met used to work as a guard at an Imperial prison where Jedi were kept. According to the officer, once a Jedi went inside, no one ever saw them again. As always, Boba had a good imagination.
Eight stormtroopers circled around them and raised their rifles at her. Ahsoka's expression did not indicate hatred or anger. Instead, Boba saw what he had been most afraid to see: a young woman who aged too quickly in too short a time. A woman whose old way of life was stolen from her without warning, and now found herself with no choice but to survive on her own. She looked up at him with an expression that suggested pain. Not physical pain, but the pain of a heart that had been hardened while it was still broken, and thus impossible to mend again.
Boba spoke up.
"You are under arrest for suspicion of anti-Imperial sympathies."
As Boba looked down at her, he saw a mirror reflection of himself. His heart, which somewhere since that fateful day in the Geonosian arena up until this very minute, had been broken and then hardened before it could be mended. He, too, had aged too quickly, and somewhere along the way, all but the little voice inside that was now so clear, had simply stopped caring.
What happened to you, Ahsoka Tano? Where have you been? What have you done? Why are you still fighting when you have no hope?
He couldn't do it. The words were on the tip of his tongue to inform his superiors of her true identity. But he just couldn't bring himself to say it. To send Ahsoka to her death would be like sending himself to his death.
In a blur, he numbly ordered his troops to restrain her and take her aboard the ship. He could not think straight. His body was in great pain but he scarcely noticed. Not until he had boarded the ship behind him did he accept the grave truth: he had failed.
This had been his big chance to prove his loyalty to the Empire. His chance to show them that his reputation had not been exaggerated, and he was worth as much as his own words. The Empire might not figure it out for a while—in fact, if Ahsoka had kept her true identity hidden for over ten years, there was a high probability that the Empire still may not find out while she was under captivity—but if they did, Boba would be ruined. He knew he had failed, if only to himself. And he still couldn't do it.
The idea of sending her to her death. Who cared if she was a Jedi…they may be criminals, but only because of what they had tried to do to the Republic nine years ago. There was no telling if Ahsoka was a part of that. Maybe not all the Jedi were guilty. And maybe, just maybe, it was unfair that being a Jedi alone labeled one a wanted fugitive. Maybe Ahsoka was innocent in that regard.
Boba Fett had always had a sense that it was wrong. All of it was wrong. Something about the Empire immediately labeling any and every Jedi a criminal. Boba personally disliked the Jedi, but—there had to be more to that story. There was so much that the Empire, obviously, did not share about what exactly happened that fateful night when an attempted political overthrow resulted in the massacre on the Jedi Temple. Boba remembered the confusion everyone felt that night. How everything fell into chaos. Somewhere in that puzzle, Boba had a feeling there was more to the story. And that meant the Jedi may not be as deserving of how the Empire treated them as everyone was led to believe.
When Boba sensed that something was wrong or missing, he was never incorrect in his thinking. His father had trained that sense into him since before Boba could remember. He could smell it on a person when they had a trick up their sleeve. Otherwise, he wouldn't have been able to survive this long. And when it came to the Jedi, he could not shake the feeling away that the Empire kept a great many secrets about them from the public, and everyone who worked for the Empire.
So then, why should this Ahsoka Tano suffer in place of someone else? Why should she be punished for a crime she did not commit? It wasn't right.
He just couldn't let them find out about Ahsoka's true identity. He couldn't let her be killed solely because she was a Jedi. For crimes she personally committed against the Empire, of course, she should pay But not a crime she might be completely innocent of. Boba simply did not see the justice in it.
He pulled out his comm. Now Boba had fully convinced himself to keep his prisoner's affiliation with the Jedi a secret.
"This is Fett. We have captured the suspect. What are my orders?"
While he waited for a reply, Boba ordered the troops to lift off from the area. Meanwhile, he made his way to the back of the transport to make sure the prisoner was well secured in her cell.
"It has been recommended that we deliver the suspect to a specialized facility on the Spice Mines of Kessel."
Boba felt a slight sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He had heard that name before—Kessel. Again, spoken between faint whispers here and there. But rarely, if ever. It did not seem to be a popular topic for conversations these days.
"Of course. I will have her delivered there shortly."
"Excellent, bounty hunter. The Emperor thanks you for your cooperation."
Boba knew about the mines. He knew the rumors, some of the reports. But all of these came from people who had been hired to drop prisoners off at the mines, or deliver more supplies. Even then, the reports were sketchy. It was said that since the mines' construction, not one prisoner had escaped.
He was about to know more than enough about the mines.
Yesterday, Takira had walked away from the only home and family she ever knew. Driven by her own frustration with how she had been treated the past nine years, but at the same time, plagued with the thought in the back of her head that she had not done the right thing.
Today, they were leaving for Mos Gamos.
To Takira's surprise, Dimitre put her in charge of handling and delivering medical supplies. The new responsibility frightened her a bit. If she forgot something important or did not transport the medical supplies correctly, everyone in their group could get hurt because of her. But at the same time, it brightened her spirits a bit, that someone believed in her enough to trust her with such an important task. It felt very different from what Takira had been used to for a long time.
By noon that day, the group was ready to leave the town for Mos Gamos. Takira moved all the medical supplies to her landspeeder and drove between two other speeders. To deter unwanted attention, the group left in separate small groups. Just as it was Takira's turn to leave, someone approached her speeder and hopped into the vacant passenger's seat. She was surprised to see Alaric sitting next to her.
"Oh…hey there," she muttered. Even with everything else she had to think about, Takira hoped in the back of her mind that Alaric had lost any interest of romance with her. She had plenty to worry about already without someone trying to make a move on her.
"And how are you?" Alaric asked.
She stared ahead of her, avoiding Alaric's gaze. "I'm fine. Perfectly fine," she said quickly.
Although it was entirely inappropriate, Takira suddenly recalled a technique Bane once showed her on how to forcefully remove someone who was riding in the passenger's seat in a speeder with you. If one performed the technique perfectly, said someone would break their neck upon falling out of the speeder. Not that Takira would ever actually try doing it. But she did think about it, if only briefly.
For about ten minutes, neither Takira or Alaric said anything as she drove the land speeder away from the town, taking the route she had been instructed to follow. On and off, she could feel Alaric watching her. His boots were caked with dirt and bandages covered the tips of his fingers. For the first time, Takira took note of what Alaric smelled like, and quite frankly, she had detected more pleasant aromas from dead animals.
Finally, she decided to break the silence.
"So! When we get to Mos Gamos, what happens?"
Alaric did not hesitate to answer her question.
"We head for the underground facility to regroup with the rebels there. White-helmets will be storming the town looking for us by nightfall. News of the attack would have reached them by now, so it's only a matter of time."
"What about the townsfolk? They won't be safe, will they?"
"Well, the plan is to move out anyone who could be suspected for being anti-Imperial sympathizers. We're bringing a few with us. They'll be safer in Mos Gamos. The others should be fine."
"You don't think they'll be arrested?" Takira asked worriedly, thinking of all the innocent people they had left behind.
Alaric looked at her, squinting his eyes in the sunlight. The skin on his nose consisted of many layers of having been burned, peeled off, then grown back again. He was definitely born and raised in a more forgiving environment than Tatooine.
"Look, you can listen all you want to Dimitre, because he's all high and mighty on the white-helmets trashing through here and shooting anything that moves. According to him, a whole town would suffer if one of them rebelled. You see, Dimitre may have the heart for it, but..." he pointed to his temple, "not so much the brains. He's only seeing half the picture." Then he shrugged and looked out in front of them, readjusting his rifle so that it rested under his arm. "The Empire ain't trigger-happy, is what I'm saying. They like to kill only as long as it profits them. Wiping out a town like this, which connects two important trading posts that lead to the nearest spaceport out here...that ain't exactly the profitable sort. At the most, they'll bring in a few people for questioning. Maybe someone will get a fine. And that will be all."
"Still, that means innocent people are going to get hurt because we're going to Mos Gamos. Leaving them behind."
Alaric's mouth twitched.
"Fighting the Empire isn't clean work, Takira. It gets dirty sometimes."
She frowned and stared straight ahead again. She didn't like the direction the conversation had taken. Then something Alaric said earlier occurred to her.
"You're saying that because the town is important for trading, the Empire will let it stay."
"That's correct."
"So, as long as a person is doing the Empire some good, even just a little good, that person is safe."
"Sounds about right."
"How can you be sure? You're putting the whole town's safety on something you think is true, but what if it ain't?" she pressed.
Alaric laughed heartily. He took out a small knife and used it to begin picking at the dirt on the toes of his boots.
"I'm sure. I know plenty damn more about the white-helmets than Dimitre, or any of the others. You ask them and they'll say the same thing. I'm just not a leader."
"How do you know so much?"
His tone of voice became cold and emotionless.
"I used to be in the Imperial Army." He looked at her. Once again, she did not return it the eye contact. "I don't tell just anyone about that, so I'm trusting you."
"Sure thing. I understand." After all, if Takira knew one thing she could do, it was keep secrets.
"I know a girl like you would," he said. He must have noticed a thought about to escape her lips, for he held up his hand and shook his head as the transports took a deep turn into the canyons headed for the spaceport, and the sunlight no longer shone down on them directly. "The town will be fine. We got bigger things to think about right now, so don't go worrying. Worrying never saved nobody's skin. That's the end of it."
'That's the end of it.' Cad used to say that a lot, she thought.
She remembered what she had said to him the other day: "I hate you." Did she apologize for that or take it back? She could have sworn she did, unless she imagined it. Maybe she didn't. She never really meant to say it; it just spilled out.
Takira rubbed the corners of her eyes. Dammit, no. Not in front of Alaric. Anyone but Alaric. Why feel upset about it now? Why let her feelings get carried away all over again?
"You all right?"
"Yeah, I'm fine, I'm fine," she said quickly. "It's just a little too much all at once, if you know what I mean. Lots of things changing."
"I sure do."
Takira was not looking at him. She had turned away to fidget with a bottle of herbs in her lap. That was why she failed to notice the slightest flicker of a smile that passed over Alaric's face, before it went away almost as quickly as it had come.
"Oh, and by the way, Takira, don't worry about what happened during the fight last time. That's normal."
"It is?" She frowned, remembering her panic attack. Just like in the sand storm when she was a young girl. "I don't remember you telling me that right after it happened."
"My first time in combat, I didn't act much different." He nodded, staring off into an old memory as he spoke. "You just prepare yourself mentally and know what you're supposed to do, and you'll be all right."
"I understand," she answered, not entirely sure if she was telling the truth or not.
Having not touched the drink in so long, Cad Bane had nearly forgotten the sensation of drunkenness. He had also forgotten how much he did not miss it.
Strong liquor used to chase away all thoughts from his mind until he only knew one thing, how fun and wild the world could be if you looked in the right places. Now, instead of chasing them away, his thoughts had become wilted and colorless. He remembered exactly why he was drinking and why he felt so miserable, but he did not know how to respond with the proper emotions. Too bad he hadn't known it would be like this before he took to drinking again. Otherwise he may have avoided the whole thing anyway.
Oh, well. Now he was drunk in an empty house with only goddamn droids for company, so it was just as well.
It wasn't so much that his bad knee stopped hurting, but that he forgot he still had a bad knee to begin with. He got up to find something—find what, just something, who cared what it was—and discovered to his frustration that one leg did not work as well as the other. Also, his vision in one eye was not as good as the other.
What the hell was that about? Well, maybe his body just didn't like him anymore. A fair guess, he thought.
Something was wrong.
What was wrong? he wondered. No way of knowing. Maybe he forgot one of the rifles was still loaded, or the paint had not finished drying, or a squad of Imperial troops was coming for him, but it didn't matter because he would never recall it anyway. But something was wrong, he just knew it. Maybe if he had another drink it would come back to him.
The day had ended and it was dark out and if he bothered to look outside he could see the night sky and the blanket of stars watching over them, but he could not be bothered with that right now...too much to do. What was there to do? Now he couldn't remember. The bottle-shaped object in his hand beckoned him closer, warm and inviting and invoking an old sensation he had not known for what seemed like a long time now. He took a final swig then laid his head back, taking the moment in full as much as he could. As the minutes passed he forced the old sensation back with more force than before, trying to feel it again. But it stayed dry. It wasn't coming back. He didn't feel it, despite its physical presence. Like biting into meat and tasting paper. Maybe it had never been there to begin with. Eventually he just gave up and left himself.
Suddenly, it clicked. He knew what was wrong. He had not checked on Takira for some time. In fact, all this time, she had been rather quiet. Of course she could be studying her holobooks again or working on another herbal remedy, so she might get annoyed if he bothered her.
He looked in her room and in the garage but she wasn't there. He started to panic. Takira was always running out of the house when she wasn't supposed to, and whenever she came back she acted like he didn't know, even though he did and was too tired to be angry with her. What if she got into trouble or needed help? What if she was lost? He had to go find her.
No. Wake up. Think through it and get it through your head. She left. She's gone for good and she is never coming back.
That's correct. He remembered what happened. She got up and packed her things and walked away and he just sat there, watching her leave.
Why did she have to leave? What was it all for?
She's heading off to fight with the rebels. And now you're just remembering that you're going to work for an Imperial officer in three weeks. Well, that's a fine mess of things, isn't it?
Way to go, fucker. You really messed up this time, didn't you?
Embo was right all along.
A/N: So so sorry for the horrible inconsistency with chapter updates. It's been over a month since I posted a chapter and I feel very bad about that. But I have not forgotten about this story and I'm going to finish it. My schedule is about to be a lot less busy, so chapter updates are going to be faster real soon!
If you have been watching the new show Star Wars Rebels you know that SPOILER ALERT! Ahsoka is back. No one will believe me, but I actually wrote the first draft of this chapter months before that happened, but now that this has been posted after her return I have an actual visual reference for what she would look like. It will be interesting to see how my take on Ahsoka's post-ROTS story agrees or disagrees with canon.