"It's certainly very pretty, master," Ahsoka said fondly as she looked down at the crystalline cityscape. Even though it was still marred and tattered from the long war, for all of its fractures and broken pieces, it looked beautiful. But this time instead of coming here to wage war, Ahsoka and her new master Plo had come to help rebuild. It was a strange feeling after spending so much of her time growing up during the clone wars. It nearly didn't feel real. Now that the conflict was settled, the galaxy was at peace perhaps more so now than it had ever been. Maybe someday it would also take hold in her mind; the truth that it was all really over.

"I suppose from a certain point of view," Plo said gently as he looked down at her slightly worried, then back to the ravaged scape beyond. "There is a certain aesthetic quality to broken things," he added in a more approving voice as he examined the dazzling colors that shone off of the fractured glass spires that reached towards the skies.

Though admittedly, Ahsoka's mind was far removed from Plo Koon's comment. She had found herself suddenly lost in wave of familiarity that stole her focus as they approached the city below. It was here on Christophsis, that she had met her master for the first time. Her real master.

It wasn't that she didn't care about Plo, as she did indeed share a special bond with him since he had been the one to find her, to bring her to the temple. But there was simply no replacing Anakin. He had been a special soul, to say the least. One that she had been proud to serve beside, even more so to grow under his guidance, regardless of what the other Jedi in the temple had to say about his methods.

Plo looked back down at her as they descended to the landing pad. "Your thoughts dwell on your former master," he said observantly, but not at all in the chastising manner she might have expected.

Those words, former master, still stung at her heart. "Yes, master." She acknowledged, averting her gaze. She knew there was nothing else she could have done to keep him with her at the temple. It would have been wrong to even try. His path was set elsewhere. Ahsoka was just glad their paths had crossed at all. She couldn't imagine life without all of the adventures they had shared. "Master Yoda had sent me here to meet him for the first time, when I was assigned to him as a padawan. This world reminds me of him very much."

"I suppose it would." Plo said understandingly.

"I still can't get over the fact that we are here to help rebuild, instead of fight. I'm not sure i'll ever get used to it," Ahsoka added in a tired voice. "After constantly living with so much war, so much destruction, to create anything feels so different." She might have added how empty it left her feeling, in the void where there was no violence to be had, no droids to cut down, no separatists to war against. The fact that Skywalker was no longer with her only compounded the dysphoric feel of it all. So much had changed in such little time.

"It is a sad scar that many of our young ones now bare. Growing up during such a devastating war, so much death and suffering, being thrown into the middle of it without an inkling of what to do, how to be, so many forgot what it is to be a Jedi. We were never meant to be Generals. We are peacekeepers. The damage this conflict has done is much more than physical." Plo said in a sad voice as he placed a comforting hand on Ahsoka's shoulder.

"I know it all too well, master Plo." Ahsoka said, feeling even more sad for his remarks.

"Don't fret, 'Soka. You will adjust to this new way of life. With the war no longer ravaging the galaxy, now we can do what we were truly called to do. We can keep the peace, protect the innocent, help people." Plo said with an enthusiasm in his voice. "It has been too long since we Jedi have been able to focus on our true duties."

"Yes, master," Ahsoka said in monotone as they emerged from the transport with their clone escort flanking on either side. Even though it was peacetime, the clones that were still alive were utilized in the rebuilding efforts, as well as to guard the Jedi against any unknown threats they might face from any faction or unrest.

For now, the clones hung back at the transport as Ahsoka and Plo Koon walked further still, meeting with the local leaders who awaited them in the street. Shortly after greeting them, they all walked into a building nearby, into a large conference suite. Within was a long ovular table where all of them sat and began to talk about rebuilding, and aid that might be offered, if the local government were to accept it.

The rambling that ensued was bland and boring, as Ahsoka tried to force herself to remain engaged in the conversation. The longer the talks drug on, the harder she found it to stay engaged at all.

Was this the life of a Jedi? It certainly didn't feel like what she had trained for. Not at all. She had been taught the art of combat, strategy, direction and leadership. Although diplomacy was a part of the latter, she found this whole affair entirely too dull for her interest.

Then she felt something enter her consciousness. A wave of distress, a cry for help. Someone was dying. But it wasn't just someone, it was her master- her real master. A striking fear lanced across their bond as she immediately jolted up from the table. All eyes in the room looked to her as the proceedings grew silent. Quickly without a moment to lose, she bolted for the door, running to the transport without a word to be said.

With a word of apology to the room, master Plo followed after her in haste. "Ahsoka, what do you think you're doing?!" he shouted, confused.

Just as she reached the transport, she turned to him. "I don't have time to explain, but Anakin is dying, he's close by I can feel it. I have to go save him!" She pleaded, not so much asking for permission as she was asking for him to understand. Plo looked at her with an empty stare for a moment, perhaps in shock. "Please master, I have to go and help him."

"Yes, of course you do," Plo said empathetically, head bowed. Quickly he turned to the detachment of clones that stood guard around the shuttle. "Wolfpack, fall in!" Plo shouted, troops forming up in the transport quickly in response. "Wolffe, we're most likely dealing with someone who is severely injured. Have your medics ready for anything."

"Of course, General." Wolffe nodded, fist over his heart reverence. Though the war had concluded, the Jedi masters still held the rank of General, though largely only in name.

Wolffe turned to the squad behind him as they took hold of the rack, steadying themselves while the transport lifted in flight. "You heard the General, be ready for anything!"

"Sir yes sir!" The clones cried out in unison, comradery abounding amongst them. The space between them felt charged with excitement, a sense of urgency as they looked forward to some action, anything but the droll proceedings as of late. It was what they had been made for, and they took pride in that fact. Plo's wolfpack perhaps even more so, as the closeness between them had been forged strong through many difficult battles. All fostered under the firm yet gentle leadership of master Plo, who always took care to appreciate each one of them for who they were as individuals, not as tools, or as a means to an end as some Generals had regarded them.

Ahsoka, much like the clones that surrounded her, felt better while in action rather than standing by in wait. Though she wished it had been something else other than her master being in mortal danger that prompted her to act.

Ahsoka looked down at Plo as they gained altitude, the words of a silent thank you falling on her lips, crossing their bond. Although she was going to leave whether she received permission or not, it meant the world to her to have master Plo not just understand, but support her as well.

"Where are we headed, Commander?" Wolffe asked her as they rose quickly into orbit.

Before she answered, Ahsoka closed her eyes, reaching out for her master. Now, his force presence felt weaker than before, dangerously near death. She could feel someone else familiar- Obi-wan. So he had found him, she thought with a smile in her heart. Though a fleeting one at best, for his signature was even weaker than that of Anakin's. Her gut wrenched with fear, as she immediately stilled the useless reaction. She reached further, in search of a location.

Her eyes snapped open in an instant as she came upon the approximate area in which she felt their presence. "Alzoc system. Top speed." Ahsoka said, eyes piercing the dark black space before her, as if she could see her master through all the distance if she tried hard enough.

"You heart the Commander, punch it Comet! Top speed!" Wolffe shouted to the cockpit, more vivacity growing within the men who stood ready, itching to serve.

Immediately, the stars dissolved into fine lines of white before them as they bolted through hyperspace. Ahsoka kept her master tight on the end of her tether, listening, waiting. Each moment they drew closer, his life force dwindled, his light dimming. Then there was a flash of blinding pain, followed by nothing.

The overwhelming sensation of it caused Ahsoka to gasp for breath as her heart pounded thunderously in her chest. Only seconds later they dropped back into realspace. Immediately she saw it, the aftershock of a massive blast that was very visible, even from high orbit over Alzoc III.

"Take us in as close as we can get to the epicenter of the blast!" Ahsoka commanded, the pilot responding without a moment of hesitation.

As they flew in closer, she could see the skid of something smoldering against the melted snow and ice a mile or so out from the epicenter of the blast. A pile of shrapnel ridden metal sizzled and burned hot in a crater of snow and soil. "Move in closer to that object there," Ahsoka said. Yet again, her words were heeded with silent obedience.

As they came in viewing range, Ahsoka realized with fear that the hulk of misshapen metal was indeed her master's ship. Though now it had been welded and twisted by the blast so badly, that it hardly resembled a ship at all.

"Commander, we're picking up dangerously high levels of radiation in this sector. Looks like the blast was either a dirty bomb, or maybe an old reactor gone terminal." Said one of the clones who sat in the co-pilot's chair, shouting out over the sound of the ship against the atmosphere.

"We need to get an extraction team to that crashed vessel fast. General Skywalker and Kenobi are down there dying as we speak!" Ahsoka shouted out, terrified. Though she did her best to keep it hidden, she was sure the clones could sense her fear. If she didn't know any better, she could have sworn she felt the same in all of them.

"Suit up!" Wolffe shouted, as the troopers donned their helmets in unison. Then quickly, the squad leader took to reaching into a locker for a bunch of med hypos, handing one to each man. "Dose up, it will hold the radiation sickness at bay until we can get medical attention. It's going to be rough, but we were made for this! Besides, the lives of two Generals depend on each and every one of you to step up. I know I can count on all of you." Wolffe regarded his men with a respect and admiration as he spoke.

Then, he turned to Ahsoka, speaking in a quieter tone. "One for you too, Commander. We've already been hit with too much radiation."

Ahsoka nodded, taking the vial and quickly injecting herself. The transport readiy descended, hovering near to what was left of the Twilight that lie mangled in the snow.

"The ground is too unstable to land. Prepare to drop in!" Comet shouted from the helm.

Quickly the men took to mounting cables and descending to the terrain below. Ahsoka turned to give Wolffe a silent nod as she leapt from the ship, landing gracefully atop the heap of hot metal. Wolffe landed by her side only moments after. Ahsoka grabbed both of her sabers, making quick work of cutting through the hull, carving a piece out large enough for her and her men to climb through.

The inside of the ship was in total disarray. Though in spite of the mess, she quickly found her masters. The sight of them stabbed at her chest painfully, as they lie broken and unconscious on the floor of the main hall. She didn't have time to say anything before the clones took to hauling both men out of the makeshift hatch and up the cables to the transport above.

Just before she took her leave, Ahsoka noticed a sad muted beep trilling down the corridor. She climbed up into the bridge, what was left of it anyways, and saw Artoo mangled and torn apart, pieces of him strewn about all over the place.

"Artoo!" Ahsoka shouted in terror. "I need two troopers to extract this droid, stat!" She yelled loudly down the passageway. Again with complete obedience, the men complied, swiftly piling the pieces of the little astromech together as best they could before hauling him up and away as well.

Ahsoka followed closely behind, meeting Wolffe outside on the top of the ship. "It's time to get out of here, Commander," Wolffe said wearily. "I hope we've gotten all we came here for. If we stay any longer we might not make it. The radiation from that blast was substantial, even with the hypos."

"We've got all we need, lets get off this force forsaken rock," Ahsoka said, scanning their surroundings once over with dread.

"Yes sir!" Wolffe answered back as he cabled up to the ship. In one bound, Ahsoka followed after him. Immediately she took to hovering over the clones that knelt over her master and grandmaster as they tended to their wounds and injuries.

Then seamlessly, they had entered hyperspace again, heading back to Christophsis to meet with Plo's cruiser the Triumphant II, to receive higher medical care. At this point it was obvious from the broken bones, ruptured organs, all compounded by acute and quite deadly radiation poisoning, that the men were going to need much more than a simple field medic to survive.

Ahsoka hung back a short distance, feeling a hazy veil between herself and what was unfolding before her. She was in a sick fixation of the sight of her master so broken, and how Obi-wan seemed to be even worse for wear. She stifled her tears for their pain, for how she might have lost them both, how they might still be lost already. She was afraid to ask the medics if they would make it. But still, whatever their answer would be, it would do little to change their fate.

Soon they came back to realspace, hastily docking with the cruiser. At this point the clones around her began to move sluggishly, as she herself noticed a weakness in her own bones. They had been met with a large dose of radiation. How much, she didn't ask. Really, she didn't care. They might get sick, but she knew that they would all pull through.

It was the two men who lie on the floor, now being quickly put onto stretchers and rushed out to the shops med room whose lives' were at stake. She could handle whatever sickness awaited her. She only hoped that Anakin and Obi-wan would pull through, too. She had the feeling that if they were to die, she would absolutely blame herself. Even though it sounded like a silly thing to believe she had anything to do with the reason they found themselves in such a state, she couldn't help but feel the weight of it all fall on her shoulders. All she could do now was pick of the pieces of them the best she could. It was all she knew how to do.

As two fresh clones pulled the stretchers away, running down the hall to the ships med room, the rest of the clones long with Ahsoka sauntered off of the transport, walking slowly to the med room as well. "Alright men, time to get some medical attention," Wolffe said, a queasiness to his voice. "Report to medical." A few more fresh clones rushed past the tired aching squad of irradiated soldiers, hauling out the scrap parts and remnants of Artoo that lie beeping sadly in the corner of the transport.

"Yes sir," the cones echoed together in a fatigued chorus. Ahsoka walked along behind them, dragging her feet, willing herself to move. She could sense the clones doing the same.

As they all arrived at the med hall, she could see several medics and doctors working behind curtains, where she suspected her two masters lie. She reached out, still feeling their life force in their bodies. Though both of them were very weak and faint, they were alive. It was enough, she decided. So she let it go, focusing her efforts on keeping her own body from discentegrading on the atomic level. Mostly it was in vain, but it did some to slow the radiation sickness from advancing as much as it might have.

Then she saw master Plo enter the med room, as she collapsed against a wall along with the squad of sick clones that had followed her into danger to rescue her masters. Plo knelt beside her, placing a kind hand on her forehead. "You did well, Ahsoka. I'm very proud of you."

She could feel him send healing waves through her body, helping fight the effects of her sickness. She smiled back at him in response. "Thank you for believing in me," Ahsoka said, heartfelt and greatful. "I hope I didn't muddle affairs on Christophsis by making such a quick exit," She added with a tired laugh.

"Hardly. Many don't see the Jedi as real beings with emotions and needs. Actually, your display helped enable them to see us as beings with compassion and empathy. Had you been paying attention to the proceedings, you might have known their reservations about us." Plo added in a gentle chastising manner.

"I'm sorry, master." Ahsoka said genuinely. "Diplomacy is just so… boring."

"Yes, it is quite void of blaster fire and danger, most of the time." Plo shot back in a gentle laugh. "But in a galaxy now at peace, i'm sure you will be able to adjust." He added in a more serious yet calm and soothing voice.

"I suppose I will have to," Ahsoka said wearily, then paused. "Do you think they will be alright?" She asked vulnerably, knowing all too well she wouldn't be able to deal with a negative answer.

Plo paused, contemplatively. "I can't say." He said honestly. "But there is no death, only the force. If they pass on, they live on within us, in the force, all around us."

Ahsoka felt herself break, tears falling down her face. "I don't want them to be gone," she said, suddenly feeling very small and childlike.

Plo drew her into a hug. "I know, 'soka I know." He said gently in a fatherly manner. "Perhaps they won't be. But it's possible that they might not make it."

Ahsoka began to cry harder, pulling into her masters embrace. Nothing had ever been quite so terrible as the prospect of the two people she cared most about in the entire galaxy ceasing to exist. Her heart broke for them, crying and wrenching. They didn't deserve this. Both Obi-wan and Anakin had always been largely private men. Rightly so, they deserved their privacy. But they also deserved to be happy. She had seen both of them dance around it endlessly, never allowing themselves to be truly happy. She had hoped that they would find it together. Maybe they had, in their final moments. She hoped and prayed it was so.

But she had to remind herself, they still might make it. As she searched the force, she could see their future was uncertain, not clearly written. Though she could sense something that she had never noticed before, something that made her heart both happy and sad all at the same time.

The two of them were coiled about each other, wound tightly in the force. Their lives, past, present, future either living or dead, were bound together. Whatever their fate was, it was one in the same.

They had spent their lives trying to deny it, trying to reject what the universe had already destined. She sent a loving intention to their auras, that they might get to live to accept the gift they had been given, the gift of knowing true love within each other.

….

The doctors on board continued to work on the two men hidden behind the curtain the entire time they were enroute back to Coruscant. They had arrived sooner than later, thanks to the state of the art hyperdrive that had been recently installed in the cruiser. Ahsoka and all of the clones were happy to arrive to wander off to their respective medical facilities, as they hadn't received much in the way of medical help, other than another hypo to stave off their looming sickness from taking hold entirely. As for Ahsoka and her two fallen masters, they were headed straight for the halls of healing.

Ahsoka wanted to stay close to them, but was ushered off as a group of the most highly skilled healers rushed in to work on Anakin and Obi-wan as they were transported to the healing halls. Leading them all was Vokara Che. Ahsoka had always been observant, so she could see the well hidden worry and fear in the woman's gentle mask. The sight of Che being even slightly out of sorts was not helping Ahsoka feel any better. But there was no one else better to lead the effort than her. Ahsoka knew she would do all there was to do. If they would pull through, if there was any way, Che would be the one to help get them better.

Ahsoka was led to the halls as well, at a slight distance as the healers rushed with the gurneys that floated down the corridor at a brisk pace. All those that might have been in their way knew instinctively to pull back to allow them through. Nothing needed to be said, it was the feeling in the air. The lingering sense that death might be just around the corner if they lost even one second of time.

And Ahsoka walked behind them as the other Jedi stayed near to the edges of the corridor. It felt like a funeral march, and she the one to escort her loved ones into the realm beyond. A tear fell at the thought as she quickly wiped it away, frustrated with her too strong emotions. She was attached to her master, it was no secret. Although most masters and padawans did form a bond over time. Usually it was a particularly strong one, not easily matched by any others.

It was so hypocritical for them to embrace such a culture, simultaneously preaching that attachments were forbidden. Although ever since the fall of the Sith, the Council had taken a much more lax stance on the idea altogether. That wasn't to say the dangers of attachment were not spoken of. Indeed they were.

Because attachments clouded one's judgement, skewed one's thinking- if you allowed it. They were things to be kept in perspective. But also, they could save lives, give strength. Just as her own bond with her master might have saved his life and that of her grandmaster. Or just as Anakin had saved his master countless times in the past, sensing through their bond when the other was in danger.

She took solace in the thought, as she continued on marching behind the trail of parted hallways that the two dying men left in their wake. Ahsoka could feel all eyes on her as she moved through, onward to the healing halls. Every emotion or lack thereof was on display. It made her feel angry, frustrated, with herself, with everyone else.

It was this culture that drove her masters to such extents, such lengths to deny themselves what they should have embraced with gladness. She tried not to harbor anger for it, but right now as she thought she might lose them both, she couldn't help but blame the order. It made her feel guilty for even thinking such a thing, as she could hear the voice of her grandmaster chastising her for it even now.

But the eyes looked at her still, grazing her skin, stoking a deep burning fear laced anger to the surface as she tried even harder still to quell the flood of emotions that overwhelmed her. But all of it surfaced as grief and sadness, as tears of pain and anguish freely fell from her eyes.

Finally she had arrived to her destination. Ahsoka felt relieved when the healers sequestered her off into a room, one of the many she had become familiar with over the course of the war. She knew the drill, to change out of her Jedi robes, pull on the stark white medical gown. Now she sat and waited for whatever healer would come back in to tend to her.

The motion of it all felt rather monotonous, strangely so considering nothing about life had become so routine anymore. Or perhaps, it had become too mundane. The carefree days of living under her master, constantly on the run or in danger, were all over.

It was always a begrudging thought, the fact that she had liked it. She loved the danger, the sense of purpose such dire moments brought to her heart. She loved saving people, saving her master- which had become more of a habit than he would ever admit. Without it all, she felt aimless. The thought of life without her master living made it all feel even more lost. She would be consigned to live out a boring life, void of adventure, absent of anything that brought her meaning.

And it was a shameful thought, because being a Jedi was far from a meaningless existence. It made her feel ungrateful for the life that she was able to lead. So many others would have given up anything to trade places with her. But what did it mean to be a Jedi, if it only felt empty inside?

Ahsoka gave an exasperated sigh as she flopped backwards onto the med sleeper in her room. She was letting herself be given to such emotional and treacherous thoughts entirely too easy. It was hard to stay strong, but she owed it to both of the men who might never make it. They would want her to be the best Jedi she could possibly be. She promised them silently, that she would try her best to live up that, to honor them.

Another string of tears escaped her silently as she caught herself again, thinking as if they had already passed. They hadn't, not yet. But what was it worth to hold out hope when it could only be dashed in an instant?

The endless tug and pull of the two sides of herself made her feel tired, along with her tear swollen eyes that just wanted to close, to rest. Or perhaps it was the radiation sickness finally beginning to manifest itself more fully. Ahsoka crawled up under the covers, shivering as she realized suddenly just how cold she really felt. Just then she could hear the sound of a healer entering the room with an IV rack of fluids. Ahsoka sat up to see who it was, heart thudding as she saw Che walk over, preparing a needle for her IV.

"How are they?" Ahsoka asked, panicked, though not feeling as if she needed to mask herself before Che. If she could be herself around anyone, it would be her.

The woman wore a morose look on her dark blue features. "They should be dead, for all of their injuries, and for how bad the radiation sickness is. We cannot explain what keeps them alive."

"So they will make it?" Ahsoka said, feeling hope light up her chest.

"They might. However since there's no telling what is keeping them alive, they might not survive all the same. If they make it the next three days, the will live. That is all I know." Che said, a glow of something like suppressed hope deep in her eyes.

"They will make it." Ahsoka said resolutely, wincing as Che buried the IV deep in the vein of her wrist. "They have to make it. I know they will."

"I hope you are right, young one." Che looked at her with a worried crease in her brow. "Nothing but trouble, those two." She added in a more gentle demeanor, nearly reminiscent.

"I know it." Ahsoka said with a smile.

"Now you must rest. Your own radiation sickness is significant." Che said in more of her usual commanding tone.

"Yes master." Ahsoka said, crawling back under the blankets and resting her eyes, following orders as she felt her grief settle.

Finally for the first time, she allowed herself to hold hope without restraint. They will be just fine. She said to herself, as she drifted quickly into an exhausted sleep. They have to be.

Right?