Then.
Something wakes Ahsoka in the middle of the night.
It's not- It's not a vision, she's certain. The cotton fabrics of her sheets and the soft foam of her bed is definitely reality, but there's something off in the air. Something strange in the Force.
"Oh," she whispers softly, and quietly gets out of bed.
Her masters. That's what it is. Through her bonds with them, she can sense that they're both in turmoil. Stepping quietly, unconsciously using the Force to nullify the sounds of her steps, she opens her door and walks to another, knocking gently. "Master?" she whispers, and she sends a nudge through her bond with Anakin. Are you alright?
Through the closed door, she can hear great, heaving gasps of air, and she nearly opens the door herself before she hears a click and the door opens. She peeks inside, rubbing her eyes to try to clear her vision a little, and she sees Anakin, arms around himself and shivering.
He doesn't say anything with his voice. He tries to give her a smile, but it comes out more like a grimace, nervousness and anxiety leaking from him in gentle waves. I'm alright, he sends through their bond, but she rolls her eyes and steps forward.
"You had a vision, didn't you?" At the lack of reply, she sighs. "You won't be sleeping for a while, huh. I'll go make you some tea."
He still doesn't reply, but he sends a jumbled mess of guiltgratefulnessconfusion through their bond, and she pokes his shields with an exasperated fondness in return. She leaves the room, walking softly through their quarters, but when she reaches for the mugs on the kitchen shelf, her hands move of their own accord and she finds herself with three mugs instead of two.
She doesn't question it. Quietly, she loses herself a little in the brewing process, carefully portioning out the sapir leaves and letting it steep. Minutes later, she levitates the cups with the Force and brings them with her out of the kitchen just as Anakin steps out of his room. As if from an unspoken agreement, they gravitate towards Obi-Wan's room, where she can sense a muffled sorrow so deep it cuts at her too.
Anakin knocks on the door. "Master." There's no response. "Obi-Wan."
Still nothing, but in the Force, the sorrow sharpens and there's a new edge of shame. I'm fine.
"Banthashavit," mutters Anakin, and he opens the door.
It's too dark to really see anything. But Ahsoka is togruta, so her vision adjusts a little better, and her heart clenches. She's never seen Master Kenobi like this - sitting up on his bed, covers askew, completely disheveled, eyes red, face twisted in a deep sorrow. "We brought you tea," she says, and stops, because she isn't sure if he will be able to hold onto the mug with how much he's shaking.
He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. Instead, he sends her his gratefulness through their bond, along with guilt of having woken her up. She rolls her eyes. "Stop blaming yourself, Master Kenobi."
He gives her a look, then, one usually reserved for Anakin - the raised eyebrow - andAnakin clicks his tongue. "Come on, move over, Obi-Wan."
Obi-Wan looks somewhat panicked, but he obeys nonetheless, trying (and failing) to discreetly wipe his face. Ahsoka senses a nudge in the Force and she relinquishes the hold of two of the teacups, allowing Anakin to move them into his own and Obi-Wan's hands. She plops down on Obi-Wan's left, and Anakin on his right, and together, they lean on Obi-Wan's shoulders and sip their tea.
It's a comfortable silence, only broken occasionally by Obi-Wan as he tries to get his breathing under control. Anakin hands him a box of tissues, and he takes it, thankfully. Around them, the Force murmurs gently, a lazy swirl of lovebrotherfathersistermasterpadawan moving about the room, and Ahsoka refrains from cheering when Obi-Wan finally relaxes into their cuddling and takes a sip from his cup of tea.
She hasn't forgotten that Anakin had a vision, though. She'll let that slide for now - until Obi-Wan seems to recover.
It's still dark outside. A quick glance at the chrono shows that it's only 0231 hours, so there's plenty of time to go back to sleep if they do decide to go back to it. The bed isn't very big - it's designed for one person, so while they can fit relatively easily while sitting up, she and Anakin still huddle into Obi-Wan and he lets them.
After a while, he finally speaks, his voice hoarse and raw from breaking down. "It was a vision. I spoke to Qui-Gon," he says, and Anakin sucks in a breath.
Where had she heard that- Oh.
Qui-Gon. Right - Obi-Wan's master, the first Jedi slain by a Sith in over a thousand years. She'd been too young to remember when it had happened, but throughout the years, whispers passed from youngling to youngling had made its way through the creche. The Sithslayer! They would whisper as they saw Master Kenobi in the halls. He lost his master to the Sith. The first in a thousand years.
When she had seen him, back then, he had seemed bigger than life, a powerful Jedi who had killed a Sith, someone who was worthy of legend. Other rumors had bounced around, these ones more fickle - that Master Kenobi's padawan was just as powerful, that maybe, just maybe - he could be the Chosen One.
She sits beside them now, beside the heroes that the younglings whisper about, and she doesn't see the legend. She sees her masters. They are people, they are human, and though she knows intimately that they are powerful, they seem so very, very small right now.
Through the Force, Anakin projects his support, a bundle of love-you'llbealright-wegotyou that makes Obi-Wan laugh quietly. Ahsoka follows suit, doing the same, and Obi-Wan sets his teacup down on a table with the Force and puts his arms around their shoulders, clutching at them like a lifeline. "The Force finally gave me the gift of a farewell," he says, and his voice breaks. "It really was him."
Sithspit. She's never seen Obi-Wan so undone and it pulls at her, making her heart ache for his pain. Resentfully, she suddenly wishes Maul really was dead for the pain he had inflicted on her grandmaster.
"I'm glad," Anakin whispers. He'd only spoken of Qui-Gon a handful of times with the tones of a young boy who saw him as a hero, larger than life and with infinite wisdom. "Do you wanna talk about it?"
Obi-Wan chuckles, but it's so filled with bitterness it gnaws at her. "He has faith in us," he says, and Ahsoka tries not to gape. Us? As in… her too? She'd never even known him. Obi-Wan's arm tightens around her shoulders. "He would have liked you very much, Ahsoka, and you would have gotten along with him too. He disrespected the Council almost as much as Anakin does."
Ahsoka laughs at Anakin's sputtered protests, ignoring the quiet hole in her chest and the sting of loss for someone she could never know. "I'm glad you could see him one last time, Master Kenobi."
"I am too," he whispers, and they lapse back into silence again, nursing their cups of tea. Obi-Wan calls his cup back from the table and moves his arm from her shoulders, but she doesn't mind. The Force is quiet and calm here. Family. Family. Family.
There's something else, too. Something in the Force she doesn't quite recognize, but it feels warm and safe. Maybe it's-
Her teeth knock against something in the cup and she flinches, eyeing the tea with a newfound distrust. At her side, Obi-Wan and Anakin seem to have found something else at the bottom of their tea as well. "What did you put in this, Ahsoka?" Anakin asks.
"Hey, there were only tea leaves and water!" she says defensively. "I'm sure of it!" She's a competent tea brewer, thank you very much!
It's a little bit odd how they all discovered whatever it is at the bottom of the cup at the same time, but Ahsoka thinks nothing of it. In the darkness, she can't see anything in the tea. Flicking out his hand, Obi-Wan turns on the lights of his room to a low setting, making them squint a little in the sudden brightness, dim as it is. Ahsoka glares into the cup, looking for the invader, and she frowns when she finds it. Reaching in, she grabs it with her fingers, and what she sees startles her enough to make her nearly drop it again.
It's a silka bead. It's shaped exactly like a perfect extension of her padawan braid, except unlike the other beads, this one is the colour of white-gold.
It is also, despite having been drenched in tea for the past hour, perfectly dry.
At her side, her masters' shock colours the Force, a sudden wash of emotion blasting through the lazy calm that was previously there. She glances over and sees them holding beads of their own - blue-green for Obi-Wan and red-black for Anakin. For them, the bead resembles something she's seen on human padawan braids - a marker designed to discern when a Jedi learner faced a great trial.
"This wasn't me," she manages feebly when she finds her voice. She'd never seen these before. And yet, there's an inkling of something familiar in the bead, as if it came from somewhere she doesn't know, but could have.
Then she sees it. Her breath hitches, as do her masters'. In the corner of her eyes, she sees a smile, a mane of long hair, a hint of blue, and she hears a quiet laughter that makes her feel at home. Her head snaps to the side, searching, and she finds nothing.
"Who's there?" she asks nervously. When no answers come, she turns to her masters. "Who was that?"
Obi-Wan doesn't speak. He stares at her, then at the bead, and his mouth opens. No sound comes out. At his side, Anakin fingers the red-black bead, and looks at her with a muted shock.
Then she understands, and it fills her with warmth. She speaks into the Force.
It's nice to finally meet you, Master Jinn.
And if she listens really hard, she thinks she can hear him.
I am glad to meet you too, my great-grandpadawan.
The Coruscanti night is something that Yoda has always appreciated.
Even now, at the height of the war, the night on this planet offers him a modicum of peace. It's simplistic - the constant flow of speeder traffic, the lights of the many skyscrapers in the Senate District, the dull hum of the planet as life slows but does not stop when the sun goes down. In his quarters, he sits on the soft cushioned chair and breathes in the softy musty air of this part of the living quarters. It is… calmer here, in the center of Light.
As he sinks into a meditation, he ponders the changes that have occurred regarding Obi-Wan and his padawans (and though Padawan Tano is officially Skywalker's padawan, everyone in the Temple knows that Obi-Wan is teaching her as his own). And they have changed - though it pleases him greatly to see that the changes have drawn Padawan Tano more firmly to the Light, he worries for Skywalker, who seems to be drawing closer to the Dark.
As for Obi-Wan…
It perplexes Yoda greatly. For hundreds of years, he had believed that balance meant the destruction of Darkness and the prevalence of Light. Yet what he had sensed from Obi-Wan was not a shining Light but a solid, towering grey, a mix of Darkness and Light.
Perhaps the Code - and his teachings - had been wrong?
It is a strange thing to ponder.
Yoda's mind turns back to Skywalker. Since the mission to Mortis, his Force-presence had Darkened just as Padawan Tano's had Lightened. From what he remembers from his readings on the Nightsisters and his archival knowledge of ancient Jedi lore, he believes it to be possible that the physical manifestations of the Dark and Light side of the Force have found a home in the bodies of Skywalker and Padawan Tano.
And that is deeply troubling. They are so, so young - to bear such a burden fills him with dread. They should not be forced to hold such a responsibility.
Yoda.
The Force calls to him in the midst of his meditation. Only it isn't just the Force - there's some familiarity in the voice that it uses.
Yoda.
"Hear you, I do," Yoda calls back. "Who are you?"
He waits patiently, but the Force gives him no reply.
"My imagination, it must be," he mutters. He should probably sleep-
No. It is I, Qui-Gon Jinn.
The Force sings with truth, and if Yoda were not the Grandmaster of the Order, he would have gasped and denied it. But he is, so his brows furrow and he speaks calmly. "It cannot be. Dead, you are."
No. I am part of the Living Force, Yoda.
His eyes widen as the Force swells around him. Invisible arms lift him into the air as the Force swirls around his room, levitating his furniture with a presence that he has not felt in twelve years.
"Communicate with me, how are you able?" Yoda had once heard a whisper of Qui-Gon's voice - years ago, before the battle of Geonosis - but he had never heard it since.
The Force has grown stronger with the manifestations of the Ones in the corporeal world.
Obi-Wan and his padawans. "In danger, are they?"
No. This is a path they must walk alone.
Yoda's ears droop. To walk such a burdensome path alone is not something he would ever wish upon his students. But he has faith - as a teacher, he knows he must one day step back and allow his students to bear their responsibilities. "Then, what do, shall I?"
Come to me on Dagobah.
Then the presence disappears, leaving behind nothing but an echo of a presence gone too soon.
"Do you sense anything?"
Foolish Jedi. They are in the heart of their strength, yet they are still blind.
"I'm not sure-"
He reaches out, and with a twist of his hands, the two Temple Guards lay dead on the floor with crushed trachea. Pity. He would have enjoyed their screams. But it is too dangerous to play with them here. He must move swiftly.
He flicks his finger, and a single bolt of Force Lightning destroys the security cam and the door controls, and the heavy cell door opens. The prisoner takes his chance, leaping out, and when he sees his rescuer, he falls to his knees. "Master!" gasps Maul.
Hmm. Maul is a loose end. It would be much preferable to kill him, to end his miserable existence here - impressive as his survival is - but to kill him here would mean alerting the Jedi to the presence of the Sith on Coruscant. No. Better that it seems like Maul has escaped on his own. This way, there is no chance that his identity shall be revealed.
"Most impressive." Darth Sidious eyes the mechanical legs of his former apprentice with a newfound respect. Maul had been nothing but an attack dog - an assassin to be used until no longer needed. But the survival of such a grievous wound certainly deserves commendation. "I suggest you leave before the Jedi come to investigate their fallen Guards."
Imbeciles. So simple-minded. They are so slow in their reactions. It has already been forty-two seconds, and they are only just now beginning to come. They will arrive to find nothing but an empty cell.
In a burst of speed fueled by the Force, he disappears from the Temple.
Morning comes, and his security is doubled.
"Master Windu! I do hope everything is well?"
"I'm afraid not, Chancellor. We have reason to believe there may be a dangerous Force-user who is on the loose in Coruscant."
"Oh, goodness!" Goodness, indeed. It will be a test of patience to have a Jedi guard watching him at all times. What an annoyance. But it is a consequence that he has foreseen and accepted.
They speak. It is quite easy to pretend to be a kind old man, worried for the people of Coruscant and for the Jedi.
"I assure you, Chancellor, we will not allow any Sith to set foot inside the Senate building," says Master Windu with great conviction, and inside, Palpatine cackles at the irony.
"I have complete faith in you, Master Jedi," he responds kindly. "I am sure you never will."
What a blind fool.
Morning on Coruscant brings turmoil.
At 0400 hours, the Jedi were rudely awakened by a surge in the Dark Side of the Force at the heart of their Temple, followed by a barely-hidden panic as they realized that the Sith Lord they had imprisoned had somehow managed to escape the Force-proof cell and kill the Temple Guards. What this means is two things: that one, Maul is somewhere on Coruscant, free to wreak havoc, and two, Obi-Wan Kenobi and his padawans have not gotten a single minute of sleep since they were awoken by those visions.
The Council meeting at 0700 hours is filled with urgency and irritation, borne from the frustration of having let a Sith escape onto Coruscant and from the lack of sleep everyone in the room has gotten. There is much to do; Skywalker and Kenobi are sent together to hunt down Maul, Shaak Ti is sent to look for the missing Togruta colonists, Plo Koon is sent to oversee the removal of the chips alongside Ahsoka Tano. Later, behind closed doors, Mace Windu agrees to fake his death and assume the identity of Rako Hardeen. Yoda is quiet throughout it all, but when he finally does speak, he reveals that the Force has told him to go to Dagobah. The Council shifts and murmurs at this, but a quick meditation reveals the Will of the Force, and they relent.
The Council also decides, with some reluctance, not to notify the public of the escape of Darth Maul - or, more specifically, they will not tell Coruscant that he is a Sith. He will be cautious, they reason, and any slaughter will bring the immediate attention of the entire Jedi Order. Powerful as he is, he cannot take down the entire might of the Order. He will likely try to keep a low profile before he finds a way to escape. We will not tell the public there is a dangerous Sith Lord on the loose - it could hurt the Jedi's reputation, hurt the war effort, and the odds of him killing indiscriminately are low. At most, we will notify the public that there is a dangerous criminal on the loose.
Anakin leaves unconvinced and seething at the arrogance of the Council. The odds of a madman killing indiscriminately are low?
At least Obi-Wan agrees that it's a stupid decision. But there is nothing they can do without setting off unknown consequences. Nothing but try their best to catch Maul.
The holoscreens at bars flash, warning of an escaped criminal.
Warning. Considered armed and dangerous. Do not approach. Notify Coruscant Police if there is information.
This isn't anything new in the lower levels of Coruscant. The patrons continue as if nothing is amiss, because truly, where can you not find a criminal in places like this?
The bartender sets up a drink. "Corellian brandy," he says, and a gloved hand from a hooded patron snatches it and downs it in one gulp. Under the hood, the bartender can see golden eyes and a red-and-black tattooed face matching the profile of the escaped criminal.
He notices it, and doesn't care. Why should he? It's just another customer.
The hooded patron leaves shortly after that. Half an hour later, two other hooded figures move into the bar. The bartender doesn't notice them until they're at the table, and when he finally does see them, all he can see is their eyes. Blue-green and ice blue with flecks of gold.
"Have you seen this man?" Blue-green flicks out a credit and the bartender catches it, eyeing the small holo projection of that dangerous criminal he saw earlier.
Well. He wasn't paid to keep quiet.
"Yeah. Was here half an hour ago. Left the bar and went south."
Blue-gold-eyes seems to get angry at this, but Blue-green puts out a hand. "Thank you. Let's go, Anakin," he says, and Blue-gold huffs, and they disappear a little too quickly into the crowd.
The bartender scowls. Blasted Jedi. Hopefully, no one noticed, or else his business will suffer for the next few months.
In the lower levels of Coruscant, everyone keeps to themselves. It is, quite simply, the rule of life.
But even though everyone acts as though they see nothing but their intended path, everyone is aware that the rest of the sentients are fully aware of all that goes around them. They pretend not to see, but their awareness is sharp. It has to be, to survive down here.
What does this mean?
It means no one cares about the flashing holoscreens and their warning of an escaped criminal who's supposedly armed and dangerous.
It means no one cares when they see that same zabrak in the corner of their eyes, rushing past the shops.
It means they do notice when they see the shadows in the street shifting slightly, as if something unseen is moving through them.
It means they do notice when they see a robed figure blink in and out of existence, leaving behind nothing but a blue-green mist.
It means they don't care when that strange phenomenon passes by them, and they forget by the next day.
Why should they care? It doesn't concern them.
It's been a long week, and the presence of an escaped criminal with the face of a long-dead man looms heavily over the Senator of Naboo and her security.
"How could he have survived?" hisses Rabé. She was there during the invasion of Naboo - she had seen the menacing yellow eyes, felt the anger of the Sith who had taken Qui-Gon Jinn's life. "I thought he was dead."
"Me too," murmurs Padmé, and she wonders briefly why the Jedi Council hasn't notified anyone about exactly how dangerous Darth Maul could be. What's more, she hasn't heard anything from Obi-Wan or Anakin - of all the Jedi, she wonders how they would be dealing with the return of Qui-Gon's murderer.
She's a politician. She was the Queen of Naboo. She's used to having her every move watched, used to watching her back for assassins. But for there to be a renegade Sith Lord on the loose - it fills her with uneasiness beyond what she's used to.
But there's nothing to be done about this. Not for her, anyway.
She sits in silence at the dining table, eyeing the long shadows cast by the flower vases in the Coruscanti sunrise. Rabé sits at her side, reading a book on her datapad, and Padmé takes a moment to sit back and bask in the quiet calm of Coruscant before the beginning of the work day. Moments like this are rare-
A movement in the corner of her eye appears from the shadows.
Padmé shoots upwards, blaster in one hand and vibroblade in another, immediately on guard. Rabé, too, is on her feet, one hand already poised over the comm, the other holding a vibroblade.
They stand back to back, looking for any signs of movement. Padmé's stomach is jumping - she can defend herself, as could Rabé, but against a Sith Lord, she's not too sure of her chances.
Rabé's breath hitches and Padmé whirls, bringing her blaster to bear. But there's nothing.
"Milady, the flowers," she whispers. Padmé looks, and stares at the flowers which stand in the previously empty vase.
Twelve billa ferns - memory that survives beyond death. They're entwined with the rukee lily - sacrifice in the face of evil. Two branches from the hsuberry tree, twined together - strength from brotherhood. A single black casta flower, overshadowed by the hsuberry - triumph over an old evil. Five shuura flowers - I am with you, and I will protect you.
She's filled with the sudden ridiculous urge to laugh. A part of her mind is aware that she should most definitely be questioning how Anakin was able to get the time to find and assemble the flowers during his mission to track down Maul with Obi-Wan, just as she should be wondering how on earth he was able to bypass all her security and deposit them neatly in her vase without a single soul noticing. And yet, she can't help but think that this is so romantic.
"Oh, Ani," she gasps, and the tension disappears from Rabé's shoulders. Like all other Handmaidens in Padmé's service, Rabé is fluent in Naboo's complex flower language, and she understands the meaning of the bouquet - that Anakin and Obi-Wan will protect them, and that they are on the right path to track down Maul.
Rabé lets out a strangled sound, half-laughter and half-squawk of indignation, leading them both to finally break and burst into laughter.
Ridiculous as it is, Padmé feels safer.
They find Maul at a hangar, locked in combat with Ahsoka.
She's breathing hard, leaning heavily into the Force to prevent the slightest mistake. Maul has stolen Plo Koon's lightsaber - behind Ahsoka, the Kel Dor is stirring feebly, blood running from a wound on his head. Green and yellow flash against blue, a blinding whirl in a dangerous dance, and even from the distance, Obi-Wan can sense that Ahsoka is tiring.
The civilians have long fled the hangar (thankfully). As they draw their lightsabers, Anakin hesitates, and Obi-Wan understands. "Check on Master Plo!" he shouts, and he leaps into combat against Maul.
It says something when Anakin doesn't even complain. Through their bond, Obi-Wan can sense the worry he holds for Ahsoka and Master Plo, the anger at Maul, and the fear he holds, both for the others and for himself.
They both know that if Anakin joins the fight, Plo will see Anakin's saber, and he will see how it bleeds crimson in the Force. And that is not something they can afford to reveal.
The moment Maul's eyes land on Obi-Wan, he screams in rage. "Kenobi!" he roars, and the strength of his rage knocks Ahsoka backwards, sending her flying. She lands on her feet, and Obi-Wan pretends that he didn't see a glimpse of the wings of a white-gold griffin behind her back in the corner of his eyes, pretends that he doesn't see how her eyes are the colour of jade. Maul is too absorbed in his rage to notice, his blows coming in a powerful whirl of azure, and Obi-Wan sinks into the Force, deflecting each blow with a twist of his wrist.
(He takes care not to sink too deeply.)
Behind him, he can sense Master Plo's presence sharpening as he regains his senses.
Two things happen at once.
One, Maul lashes out with a powerful Force push, throwing Obi-Wan and Ahsoka into each other and sending them tumbling down the hangar bay. He hurls Plo's lightsaber at them, cutting a deadly arc through the air, and they are forced to scramble aside. Obi-Wan feels the heat of the blade as it passes by his legs, missing him by a quarter of an inch.
And two, with the strength of a desperate, cornered beast, Maul reaches into the Force, and heaves.
A shuttle from the side of the hangar rises and throws itself towards Anakin and Plo, unrelenting in its advance. It's coming too quickly for them to leap aside. They reach out with the Force, trying to slow its advance, but it's not enough, it's not enough-
Obi-Wan throws out his hands, and at his side, he can sense Ahsoka doing the same. They fall deeply into the Force in tandem, pushing against the advancing shuttle, telling it to stop.
Stop.
Stop.
And it does.
The shuttle screeches to a halt three feet from Anakin and Plo, the sound of metal grating against duracrete ringing in their ears. A different sound intrudes; the sound of a different ship, already powered up, and lifting into the sky. Anakin is already shouting into his comm, requesting air support and relaying the information of the stolen ship, but Obi-Wan knows - he knows - that it's too late.
They sense it, not seven minutes later, when the presence filled with malice and rage disappears into hyperspace.
Hours later, after they've reported to the Council, they find themselves in the skies above Coruscant on the Resolute II under the pretense of checking on their men's recovery.
Which, they do - Anakin is immensely relieved to find that his men are well, all of them now with matching bandages on the side of their heads. "Only the clone leadership is aware of the nature of the chips, Master," Ahsoka tells him.
Rex nods. "The shinies think that it's a tumor, sir. They're instructed to not talk about it in order to prevent the spread of panic, but we're afraid that with too many troopers in the know, whoever ordered it could get wind of the de-chipping."
Anakin clenches his fists, both at the reminder of corruption and at the reminder that he had been leading an army of slaves and he didn't know, and he musters up what he hopes passes for a grateful smile to Rex and Ahsoka. "Thank you. Without your help, we couldn't possibly have gotten this done."
"Anything to get my brothers freed, sir," Rex says, and Anakin tries not to think about how he wasn't able to do the same for his friends on Tatooine.
(He wonders, privately, if Kitster is still alive, and he resents himself for not even thinking to check.)
An hour later, Obi-Wan arrives from the Negotiator with reports of his men well on the road to recovery and with Cody in tow. "Anakin," he says with a meaningful glance, "I do believe that it's time we've talked with Ahsoka."
Anakin grits his teeth. This is not a conversation he wants to be having - not with the weight of their failure to capture Maul weighing down on his shoulders. Still, it's long overdue, and he has a sinking feeling that they won't be leaving Coruscant - or the planet surface - in a while. This short time aboard the Resolute II is all they could possibly get. "Alright," he grumbles, and turns to Ahsoka. "Come on."
Then he stops. Considers. And he turns to Rex. "You too, Rex. I think you should be part of this."
Looking surprised, Rex starts, and an emotion Anakin can't quite identify flashes across his face before Rex falls back onto the mask of a soldier. "Yes, sir!"
Anakin offers a nod to Cody, too - like Rex, he deserves to be in on this.
They walk out of the hangar in silence.
Since they returned from Umbara, Rex has barely seen hide nor hair of his General.
He doesn't blame him. Rex is grateful - undeniably so - for how his Generals and Commander worked tirelessly to decrypt the inhibitor chips in order to determine how to remove them safely. What's more, the missions to capture and re-capture Maul were definitely stressful, and during that time, Rex had been recovering from having a kriffing slave chip removed from his head.
They find their way to an empty storage bay, Rex and Cody and the Jedi who are moving in such a way that it makes Rex a little uneasy with how something he can't name seems to be off, and part of him notices that this is the same storage bay he found General Skywalker hiding in after Umbara. At Rex's side, Cody looks a little uneasy, and his hands and lips twitch in a subtle signal unique to clone leadership.
WORRIED.
Rex's lips twitch, setting in a grim line, but he doesn't sign anything in response. He's worried, too, but he trusts his Generals. He trusts his Commander.
They settle in the middle of the storage bay on the ground, free from prying eyes, and they sit in a silence that seems to grow heavier by the second. The bay is nearly empty of cargo, only a few crates here and there casting low shadows in the overhead light. Rex takes stock of the area, a habit he's fallen into as a soldier to check for any bugs or eavesdroppers, and that's when he notices what's off.
It's their shadows. General Skywalker's shadow is a little too large, General Kenobi's shadow fuzzy at the edges, as if it were dissolving into a mist, and Commander Tano's shadow is just… not there.
(If he looks at her from the corner of his eye, he can almost see what looks like a white-gold light shining from her skin, casting enough light to wash away any shadows.
He blinks, and glances at her directly, and the image is gone.)
General Kenobi finally breaks the silence. "As you all may be aware, following our mission to Mortis, there were unforeseen consequences which affected the three of us." He meets Rex's eyes, then Ahsoka's, then Cody's. "Commander Cody, Captain Rex, we've brought you both into our confidence because we believe you both deserve to be aware of what has happened. We have you in our highest confidence, but this bears repeating - what is said in this room does not leave the room."
"Sir, yes, sir!" They chorus.
"We don't know exactly what's happening," General Skywalker says. "But we do know that we've been gifted part of the legacy of the beings we found on Mortis." He looks up, gaze sliding to Ahsoka, then Rex, and Rex swears he can see flecks of gold in his General's eyes that weren't there before.
"Like what I did for Echo," murmurs Ahsoka, and Rex frowns.
"What about Echo?" he asks.
There's a strange feeling in his gut. He knows what she's talking about - he's sure of it - but try as he might, the thought slips through his fingers, as if he were trying to hold onto mist.
She flinches, as if she was unaware that she had spoken aloud, and guilt flashes across her face. "At the Citadel," she says hesitatingly, then falters, looking at her masters.
They both look guilty, too.
There's a beat of silence, then General Skywalker speaks, his voice low. "What you remember from the Citadel was altered," he confesses, and Rex feels like he's been punched in the gut. "Echo nearly died. Ahsoka brought him back."
"We acted as the Force willed," General Kenobi continues. "It was as if we were being directed by something other than ourselves."
That's cold comfort. Rex is glad - very, very glad - that they were able to keep Echo alive. He'd already lost so many brothers. But there's something there that sits wrong in his gut that he thinks he has a right to speak out against.
Cody does it first. "So what you're saying is that you mind-tricked us."
There's a dull headache forming behind Rex's eyes, separate from the gentle throb from the removal wound of the inhibitor chip. There's an inkling of betrayal - he'd been mind-tricked before, by Ventress, but he never thought it would come from his Generals and Commander.
But he wants to understand. They wouldn't do it without good reason. So he shoves aside his hurt and listens.
"We did." General Kenobi is unflinching. "We understand that our actions are not something you both agree with. We won't offer excuses - what we can tell you is that the Force did not want any witnesses." He pauses, then adds, "Particularly Captain Tarkin."
Rex remembers the Captain, remembers how Tarkin expressed disdain for Commander Tano and judged her with arrogance, remembers the slimy feeling he got from a Captain that he felt would have no qualms pushing others down to bring himself up. He imagines Tarkin, aware of the healing power of Ahsoka, and Rex wonders how Tarkin would exploit that.
He'd lock her in a medbay, probably. If not physically, he'd craft some karking legislation and keep her trapped. Part of Rex wonders if Tarkin could possibly be one of the officials behind the inhibitor chips.
Still. "I can't say I like it, Generals," he says, eyeing their apologetic looks. "But I understand."
"We might be able to remove it," Ahsoka offers. "The memory block."
"That… would be appreciated," Cody says, and Rex jerks his head sharply in agreement.
"Very well," General Kenobi agrees, and he holds out his hand.
It's a little unnerving, watching his Generals and Commander hold out their hand in tandem. Their brows furrow, the three of them wearing the same expressions of concentration and befuddlement, and if the situation were any less serious, he would take a snapshot to lock this moment in a holo forever to tease them endlessly for it.
But it is serious. Rex watches them and tries not to flinch when their eyes fly open in tandem.
(Eyes of blue-green flame, of molten gold, of shining jade.)
"Remember," they say, and Rex is pretty sure he hears more than three voices.
The headache behind his eyes intensifies and he winces, gritting his teeth against the pain.
Then it disappears, and he remembers.
It isn't an explosive realization. He doesn't pass out or flinch - neither does Cody. Rather, it's as if he was suddenly reminded of something he didn't think of earlier, the thought finally becoming solid enough to grasp, the memory appearing in the back of his mind, just as easily accessible as the rest of his memories.
The Jedi are watching him carefully, him and Cody both. Rex looks back, then stares at Commander Tano, suddenly able to remember how her skin glowed with a white-gold that burned his eyes and sent a sharp pain throughout his entire being when he stared at her.
"Rex?" She waves her hand, once. "Are you alright?"
He stares at her, and he swears if he really tries to look, he can see the outer skin of the young togruta peeling back to reveal a seraphim with a thousand eyes and a thousand tongues and too many teeth, her wings of white-gold light spreading across the hangar to devour the entire space.
(He's a little afraid to try to look at his Generals too hard.)
"Yeah," he manages, and rubs his eyes. "Yeah, kid, I'm alright."
Beside him, Cody shakes his head once, then twice, clearing it from the fog of having regained a memory. "So that's what you meant by the 'gift of a legacy,'" he says.
It doesn't cross Rex's mind to thank his Generals and his Commander for giving him and his brother back their memory. It was theirs in the first place, after all.
And the Jedi understand that, and accept it.
"We believe that knowledge of our abilities could be useful in future missions and campaigns," General Kenobi says, and there's a small surge of hope in Rex - a hope that maybe, just maybe more of his brothers will come back alive. If Ahsoka could save Echo… "But we must be cautious. The knowledge of our abilities in the wrong hands could prove to be dangerous indeed."
Rex imagines Grievous or Ventress, able to regenerate from deadly wounds in a flash of white-gold. It doesn't paint a pretty picture.
Then he remembers the image he thinks he saw, of General Skywalker standing with wings of shadow above the desecrated corpse of Krell and a bloody besalisk hand in one hand, and he wonders. "Sir," he asks haltingly, "your abilities - they aren't the same, are they?"
Anakin's lips press into a thin line. Not for the first time, Rex notices how even when sitting in the company of friends, his General is like a tusk-cat with each movement: graceful, deliberate, and very, very dangerous. "No, they aren't," he says. "There are things I can do which the Council will not approve of."
"Care to do a demonstration?" Ahsoka snarks with a gesture. It occurs to Rex that it's completely possible that she's as much in the dark about the General's abilities as he is. She wasn't at Umbara, and she wasn't on the missions against Maul. No wonder she's a little snippy - in her shoes, Rex can only imagine what it is like, having new abilities that your masters have discussed without you.
General Skywalker gives her a smile that's half-smirk, half-grimace, and wholly something that's a little bit off with how it looks too wide. "Alright," he agrees, and he stands. He moves to step behind General Kenobi. "This could be useful in missions."
Then he steps into General Kenobi's shadow, and they swallow Anakin's body.
Rex is on his feet in an instant, hands automatically reaching towards his twin blasters.
What.
"At ease, Captain," Anakin says, only Rex can't see him anywhere in the hangar. But his voice is everywhere, ringing from Rex's own shadow at his feet to the shadows of the crates in the far end of the hanger. One of the shadows by the crates seems to swell, a dark lump rising from the ground. It straightens, the darkness falling away, and Rex is staring into the golden eyes of his General, whose mouth looks far too wide and whose movements look far too smooth to be human.
No wonder the General wanted to hide this from the Council. They'd pull their lightsabers on him.
He's seen this before. It was terrifying then, and it's kriffin' terrifying now. Then he imagines his General facing off against Grievous or Ventress in this form, and his terror turns to glee. The Seppies don't stand a karking chance.
"You can teleport," Cody says, deadpan. "And you can hear us when you're in the-" He gestures to the ground, running through different words in his mind before he gives up, hands pointing helplessly downwards. "When you're there. That could be useful in recon and stealth missions."
"I agree." It's General Kenobi who stands this time, his eyes glancing towards the other far end of the hangar. "But that is not all we could do."
Rex turns, and in the span of a blink, General Kenobi is gone, leaving behind nothing but a hint of blue-green mist.
This time, it's Cody jumping to his feet. A startled "General!" escapes from him, shock in every feature of his face.
"At ease." At the sound of General Kenobi's voice, both Rex and Cody whip around, turning to see Obi-Wan at the opposite end of Anakin at the far end of the hangar. "As you can see, this could very well give us the upper hand in our upcoming missions."
It could. Plans previously unable to be enacted unfold in Rex's mind. He sees shorter campaigns, his Generals able to jump behind enemy lines in an instant to take down shield generators.
He sees so many lives saved.
At his side, Ahsoka speaks his thoughts aloud. "We could save so many with shorter campaigns," she whispers, and just for a moment, Rex is reminded that despite her maturity, she's still sixteen - she's still a child.
Then it disappears, replaced by the mask of a Jedi soldier, and it strikes Rex how wrong it is that a sixteen-year-old has to have that mask.
"You said there was something you couldn't show me when we were in the Temple, Master," she says. "Something that you were afraid the Council would sense."
General Skywalker's face darkens, and for a split second, he doesn't look human at all. "There is." He looks up. "Obi-Wan?"
And before Rex can truly comprehend what is going on, several of the empty wooden crates rise from the floor, held in General Kenobi's telekinetic grip, and they shoot towards Anakin at the speed of a cannon blast.
It's almost too fast for him to see, but Rex catches every moment. General Skywalker raises his hand, and just for a millisecond, Rex wonders if his General is going to wave aside the debris, just like how he'd seen it done on the battlefield a million times before. This isn't new, General, he wants to say.
Then his vision goes red.
The room is bathed in crimson. Red lightning leaps from General Skywalker's fingertips, slashing through the air and reaching hungrily for the crates. They devour the wood in the span of a second, and the lightning stops.
There is nothing left but ashes around General Skywalker's feet.
Silence falls again in the hangar, weighed by the implications. Ahsoka's eyes are wide. Non-Force-Sensitive as he is, Rex can feel her unease.
Damn.
Then Cody breaks it. "With all due respect, sir," he says wryly, "I can't wait to see how many clankers you could destroy like that."
General Skywalker smiles, all teeth and fangs that shouldn't belong on his face, and his eyes slide to Ahsoka. "Does that answer your question, Ahsoka?"
At the sound of her name, the shock slides off her face, replaced by a sharp grin. "It does. General Grievous won't know what hit him."
Rex knows her well enough to know that she's still uneasy. He admits to himself that the demonstration of General Skywalker's heightened abilities makes him uneasy, too. Unbidden, memories of his Generals recovering in the medbay from Dooku's lightning rise up, and Rex pushes them down with a fervor.
He has faith in this General, and he knows Commander Tano does, too. Anakin would never betray them.
Never.
Hours later, Anakin fumes in his quarters, ranting to Obi-Wan.
"We could have caught Maul," he seethes. "I'm powerful enough."
"You could have, but at what cost?" Obi-Wan watches him carefully from his chair, arms crossed. "You could have caught him and revealed your abilities not just to the Council, but also to a Sith Lord. We did what we could."
"It's not enough!" he snarls. On the ground, his shadow wavers, flickering at the strength of his anger. "What good is the legacy of the Force-Wielders if we can't even use them well?"
"We can't change everything, Anakin." Obi-Wan's voice is unwavering, his presence a strong grey and set in an unmoving foundation in the Force. "We are not all-powerful."
Anakin slumps, his posture giving out as he sits down hard on his bed. "We failed," he says, and leaves it at that.
Obi-Wan can't bring himself to disagree, because really, they did. The ghost of Qui-Gon's murderer looms over him, and he wishes, not for the first time, that he went for the head.
We can't change everything.
Now.
We can't change everything, Obi-Wan had said, and for just a moment, Anakin resents his Master for the truth of those words.
Elsewhere, in the Outer Rim.
There's something wrong outside.
It's really loud. Really scary. Mama is hugging him, and Papa looks scared, and Din shivers at the bad sounds he's hearing outside.
He's four. Four years old. He thinks that that's a very big number, because he can reach the chair by himself and sometimes get the cookies from the table, but right now, he feels very very small. "We'll be ok, Din," Mama whispers, and her voice trembles. Din doesn't like it - it sounds like she wants to cry, and it makes him want to cry too, because what could hurt Mama? "You'll be okay."
Papa is holding something - it's one of his sports bats, for when he plays ball - and it shines, a little, in the dim light. Din is still learning how to read big words, but he's very proud of being able to read the word (well, the name) that's painted on the bat in big red letters.
DJARIN.
The walls are shaking. Din thinks that might be why Mama and Papa are so scared - he's pretty sure the walls aren't supposed to be shaking. Papa has an arm around both Din and Mama as if he wants to protect them from everything, and Din huddles a little closer, because surely Mama and Papa can take care of it. They took care of it when the mean kids around the corner pushed him and when he dropped the big vase from the table, so they can take care of this too, right?
There's a very weird clicking and whirring sound outside. It sounds like the droids Din has seen in the workshop down the street, only it's louder, and it's accompanied by this strange noise that Din has only heard when he snuck up at night to secretly watch the action and war holos Papa would put on. But it can't be a blaster noise, because that would mean that there is a battle here, and that doesn't make sense. This is a small town. Peaceful, like Mama said.
Something falls on his face and he wipes his eyes, staring at the white dust that he rubbed away from his face. It's coming from the ceiling. Does this mean that the house is going to fall?
"Mama," he tries to ask, but she shushes him, hand over his mouth. He falls quiet.
Then there's a really big boom, and the wall of their house disappears as the ground shakes and shakes and shakes. Mama and Papa shout, too, their voices loud, and Din covers his ears. He doesn't like this. Not at all.
From the hole in the wall, he can see strange metal droids. They're really tall, kind of like a human, but with a head that's stuck in their chest. In the sky, it's raining, but in such a way he's never seen before. There's a big ship that's throwing down huge beams of light into the village, and each time it strikes, there's a loud boom that shakes the ground.
Din thinks he should be crying. This all seems so wrong. But he can't. He just stares, and stares, and stares. He doesn't understand this.
"The bunker," Papa whispers, and his voice is rough. "For Din."
"Yes," Mama says back, and her voice is shaking so much. She hugs Din tightly, then passes him to Papa. "Yes. We need to hurry."
Mama and Papa stand, and they run.
The air outside is thick with smoke. There's a lot of screaming, kind of like how Din remembers the other kids screaming and laughing when they're playing catch-ball, except there's no laughing and the screams here sound really bad and scary. Mama and Papa run in-between houses, hiding from the bad droids.
The ground keeps shaking. Din can feel it as Papa stumbles, losing his footing then regaining it. He loses his sports bat somewhere. "We'll be okay, Din, we'll be okay," Papa keeps saying, but Din thinks it sounds like a lie. And that scares him, because he doesn't want it to be a lie.
It's so loud everywhere. On the ground, Din can see Old Mira, the cranky neighbor. She isn't moving. That's wrong - she's supposed to always be moving, hobbling about with her cane and grumbling. He turns his head a little and sees Lora, the shopkeeper, and she looks really scared. A bright red light from the bad droid hits her, and she falls and doesn't get back up.
He hates this. It's scary. It's scary. What's going on? What's happening? Din just wants to go to sleep in his bed and wake up from this bad dream. He buries his face in Papa's neck and hugs him tight. Wake up! He screams to himself. Wake up!
He can't wake up. This isn't a dream. This is real.
Papa stops moving and moves his arms, grabbing Din to set him on the ground. "Come on, Din," he says. He moves, grabbing the big, heavy doors of the bunker, and lifting them open.
Mama grabs Din and hugs him tight. Din hugs back, because there's a very bad feeling in his stomach. "I love you, baby," she cries, and Din wants to cry too. Why is she crying? He just wants to hug Mama forever. "Remember that, Din. I love you."
"Come on," Papa says urgently, and he grabs Din, pulling him into a quick hug before lifting him into the bunker. "Stay in there until we come and get you, okay?"
Din nods. They all look so scared. He should say something. "I love you, Papa, Mama," he says, and Papa's face twists. He's crying too, Din realizes.
"We love you too, little man," Papa says, and the bunker door closes.
Din stares at the door. Mama and Papa will come back to get him soon. This has to be like seek-the-hider, right? They'll come back. He-
The ground shakes, much stronger than he remembers, and Din jumps. The bunker doors pop open a little and close again at the force of the blast. In the back of his mind, Din suddenly knows with a horrible certainty that Mama and Papa aren't coming back.
Something grabs the bunker door, and Din gasps. Maybe it's Mama and Papa! Maybe that means this bad dream is-
No. It's one of those big droids. The mean ones. It opens the door and points its arm at Din, and he suddenly remembers how this droid did the same thing to shopkeeper Lora. Does that mean he's going to fall down and never get up? He doesn't want that. He doesn't want to do that.
Then the droid freezes, and there's a new noise. A dull roar. The droid falls over and doesn't get up, and behind it, there's somebody else. A person covered head to toe in blue armor and a helmet that looks like it has a big T-shape on its front.
The person - Din's rescuer - holds out their hand. "Come on," they say. "It's not safe here."
Mama and Papa said not to leave unless they came back. But they aren't coming back. So in gets up, and takes the stranger's hand.
Outside the bunker, there's more strange blue people, and they're all fighting the mean droids. The stranger carries Din, and the way they hug him reminds him of Papa. "You okay?" they ask.
Din nods.
"Alright. Hold on," they say, and suddenly, they're flying.
Din always thought he wanted to fly. But now that he's up in the air, looking down at his village, he thinks he doesn't really want to be in the sky. He doesn't want to see his village like this, all wrong and broken and on fire.
He makes a promise to himself. He'll be like these blue strangers. He'll become like them, and stop other villages from burning one day.
"Who are you?" he tries to ask, but his voice gets lost in the wind. He tries again.
"I'm a Mandalorian, kid," the blue stranger replies.
So that's what Din will be in the future, he promises himself. He'll be the one who saves other kids.
He'll be the Mandalorian.
Then.
After the talk with her masters, Rex and Cody, Ahsoka stays for a while on the Resolute II, speaking with her masters.
"How do you feel?" she asks Anakin, and he understands what's unspoken.
"Unbalanced," he admits, and she looks at him in the Force, seeing how precariously balanced he is on the precipice between Light and Dark.
She will never understand it, the struggle to stay aloft. Ahsoka knows that the Daughter's legacy has helped to entrench her firmly in the Light. There's constant reminder that she always sees, in the corner of her eye - a white-gold convor with beady eyes of jade, watching over her. It reminds her of the legends of the spirit guardians of Shili - of an animal that protected a Hunter and paved the way to safety.
We'll catch you if you Fall, Master, she sends through their bond, and the smile he gives her is a little too forced.
"Let's hope it never comes to that," he tells her.
They all sleep fitfully in the Jedi Temple, that night, a dark presence looming over Coruscant. The Jedi are uneasy, apprehension in the air. At 500 Republica, Padmé stares at the flowers of her case and fingers her blaster. She'd heard of Maul's escape from Coruscant, but she's still uneasy. There's a bad feeling in her gut.
Obi-Wan dreams of Naboo. He's a padawan, fighting an enemy with a double-bladed lightsaber. Then there's pain, and a pyrrhic victory, and the flames of a funeral pyre.
Anakin finds himself back in the ruins of the Tusken camp, the screams still echoing in the Force. The sands shift, forming into a woman.
She isn't Ar-Amu. This woman feels powerful in such a way that it feels like corruption. Her presence in the Force is muddled and half-formless, like a crumbling statue of sand, and she speaks. Anakin realizes that she isn't speaking to him.
This is a vision of someone long, long ago.
"...was he always true to himself, no matter what personality he wore? And there is something that the Council may never understand. That perhaps Revan never fell."
Anakin's breath catches. He'd heard of legends of this woman. He'd heard of the whisperings when the padawans would stay up and tell scary stories at night, stories of legends and heretics. This was Jedi Master Kreia, after her exile. "The difference between a fall and a sacrifice is sometimes difficult, but I feel that Revan understood that difference, more than anyone knew. The galaxy would have fallen if Revan had not gone to war. Perhaps he became the Dark Lord out of necessity, to prevent a greater Evil."
As her figure collapses into the dunes of the desert, a sandstorm arises, and Anakin asks Ar-Amu why she had shown him the words of Darth Traya.
He receives no answer.
In her dreams, Ahsoka finds herself back in the Ase court, the Queen staring at her with pity in her kaleidoscope eyes. The Queen opens her mouth, her voice musical and lilting. "Do you know why your people fear the Wild Hunt, Ashokah?"
With all Ase, questions are a trick. One must always be straightforward, yet must never agree with them, lest you be in their debt forever. "The clan elders believed that those who were condemned to join the hunt were to be hunted by the Ase knights for eternity." She stares into the Queen's eyes, aware that at her back, the room is empty, with no Ase knight or Ase Courtmaster watching her from behind. "They believed that the Ase knights would chase the condemned, and once they were caught, they would be skinned and gutted until dead, and the condemned would find themselves awakening in a new body, untouched, only for the Hunt to begin anew."
The Queen smiles, her shining red lips glowing under the moonlight, and she bares her teeth. "Your elders have some wisdom, my Daughter. They are right to fear the fate of the Hunted, but their reasoning is wrong. Come, Ashokah, look." She gestures to the base of the throne, where an elderly Togruta appears, kneeling, anger in his eyes but radiating fear in the Force. "This one shall be punished by the Hunt."
Part of Ahsoka cannot help but wonder if there is more to this dream - it feels like a vision. "What was his crime?"
The Queen raises her hand, proclaiming judgement. "He was in the wrong place at the wrong time." Her voice rings out across the empty Court, firm and unyielding, and the gleeful steel which belies the proclamation reminds Ahsoka that the Ase are children of Demo-ka. Of demons. The elderly togruta howls, clawing at his face, and he begins to seize as his limbs begin to twist.
"Trespassing on the Court?" Ahsoka asks. The scene before her is horrendous, and though she is aware this is a dream, she is certain that she will remember the man's screams in her waking hours.
She receives no answer to that question. Instead, the Queen replies, "Are you aware, Daughter, that our Knights do not hunt?"
Ahsoka's blood runs cold as she understands the Queen's words and realizes she recognizes the howl coming from the elderly Togruta's throat.
"My child," the Queen says, and her voice is deceptively gentle as the smooth streams on a warm summer day, "the only hunters of Shili are the Togruta."
To the side of the court, a doorway opens, and the suffering Togruta man lunges through to freedom.
Only he is no longer a Togruta. He is an akul, snarling in a hungry rage, and he flees into the forest as new sounds begin to intrude. The sounds of the Hunt. The familiar sounds of the Togruta hunters, of a clan, searching for an akul to kill.
"He was of their clan," Ahsoka realizes, and the words feel like lead on her tongue. Her eyes fall back onto the Queen, who is watching with sorrow in her eyes so sharp that Ahsoka nearly flinches.
"Beware, Daughter." The Queen's form begins to blur, indicating to Ahsoka that her vision is beginning to wane. She must be awakening soon. "You are of a clan as well. You are not immune to being Hunted."
And Ahsoka snaps awake to the sound of the Temple shaking and screams reverberating through the Force.
By late morning, she is called with her master to investigate a bombing at the Jedi Temple.