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Unbroken Vow of a Jedi: Chapter 8
The Light She Cast Pt.2
As Padmé Amidala and Ahsoka Tano have a meaningful conversation, Padmé seeks to further understand the young fallen Padawan in the hopes that she can help her old friend in any way possible. However, as their conversation continues, things take a turn for the worse. Padmé later reflects on how much of this secret meeting should be revealed to Anakin.
(The End of Chapter 7, Continued)
The restaurant shuddered as a collective laugh rumbled through the room. Ahsoka gave a relaxed look around her as this happened, but Padmé knew that the sound had unsettled her slightly. She finished her appraisal and closed the privacy curtain that circled their table when Artoo took his place at the head, giving a fleeting and fond glance towards the droid before adopting a guarded expression with locked shoulders. Padmé noticed this immediately and sought to remedy the young Togurta's unease.
"I'll take the tab," Padmé offered with a wink, and Ahsoka smiled at the gesture, suddenly comfortable in the Senator's presence once more in appreciation of her considerations.
"Thanks," she chuckled, "I'm trying to save up for speeder of some kind."
"That's wonderful!" Padmé said with enthusiasm. "Getting a job has always been seen as a coming-of-age rite of passage when I was growing up."
Ahsoka shrugged and gave a sly grin. "Well, it doesn't pay fairly, but, then again, I get paid with cheap rent mostly. I work at a family-owned work-shop where I can put my mechanical skills to good use, and they let me take up residence in their bonus room," she amended, happy to be talking about something so trivial.
"Sometimes I believe it would be in everyone's best interest if Senators would be paid unfairly," Padmé confessed with regret, the points of conflict from the morning's congression still fresh in her thoughts.
Ahsoka was intrigued by this. "Do you think that many Senators are only in it for the money?"
"Oh, I know some are. It becomes glaringly obvious when a Senator only rears their head when the issue of fiscal policy, liquidation, and/or regulation comes to the floor," she sighed. "Although it is left to the system that is franchised by each Senator to determine their paygrade, you can imagine that these Senators pull some strings, so to speak."
Ahsoka nodded as she tried to understand the political context of Padmé's argument. "It must be frustrating to have to work aside and against those who don't care."
Padmé gave Ahsoka a solemn look. "Yes, it can be disheartening, sometimes. But I'd prefer it if we talked about you. How are you?"
Ahsoka shrugged, started to spill out a defensive and witty reply, not feeling comfortable enough with Padmé to move towards a more personal conversation so suddenly, but then stopped herself and thought about the question carefully, deciding then that she might not get another chance to answer it.
Her gaze drifted to the generous window that backed their booth, and Padmé could see the underbelly of Coruscant reflected in her slate-blue eyes. She gave a reserved sigh. "I feel… alienated. Like my world has become so much smaller because I've lost so many… possibilities. I wake up in the same place almost every day. I'm not traveling to different planets, fighting different battles, or charging into the fray with a lightsaber hung on my hip. And, while I imagine that this must sound somewhat ludicrous… but I feel like, in the absence of my sabers… like I've lost a limb." She sighed and grasped her upper arms within her hands, huddling in on herself in a reclusive posture.
"And more so than that… I feel as if I have lost a part of my identity as soon as I lost my status as a Padawan learner. I've… lost my connections with people that cared about me, and who made me into the person I am now.
"It has become increasingly obvious as time goes on that I can no longer rely on anyone besides myself. There's no one to catch me should I fall. But most of all, I can't seem to allow myself to come to grips with the fact that my childhood has abruptly ended. Though it was never a prosaic childhood, even on those days where the battle demanded less than others did. But I always had someone watching my back. There was someone that had always been there for me, protecting me and guiding me. And now, all of that is gone."
Padmé allowed Ahsoka a moment of silence, wanting only to listen. But when she knew that Ahsoka wanted her to answer, she did. "There have been even more countless others that have relied on you," she reminded her. "You may have been a child, Ahsoka, but you guided others, lead others, protected others, and, I'm sure, even taught others. I wouldn't be sitting before you today if your character had been any different.
"The evidence of the life you left is ingrained within you. You didn't automatically change into a wholly different person the second you walked away. The way I see it, you're still a Jedi. I don't truly believe that being a Jedi is a mere title; it's just a way of life - a way of conducting your behavior and channeling your morals. You won't forget how to wield a lightsaber just because you no longer participate in the mainstream community of Jedi. And even more than that, you won't lose your connection to the Force or forget how to construct a lightsaber," she added with a light wink. "And it also doesn't mean that those who cared about you no longer care about you."
Ahsoka considered the Senator's words very carefully, knowing that she already knew these things on some level. But, hearing them aloud gave her the permission she needed in order to begin to introspect them.
"I guess that's another reason why I asked for you," Ahsoka admitted calmly. "I needed someone from my old life that wouldn't expect anything out of me – or rat me out to anybody," she added with a charming smile.
Padmé playfully raised her hands in a surrendering gesture. "I shall not squeal, I promise. I imagine that you thought I'd be more detached from your problems than another Jedi?"
Ahsoka nodded. "I have remained in loose contact with a Clone trooper called Rex - an old partner-in-crime you could say - but I know for a fact that he couldn't lie his way out of a paper bag with a pistol stuck to his head."
Padmé nodded, remembering Rex especially from the Blue Shadow mission on Naboo, mainly from his comment to her explaining that a Clone's death was to be expected since they were 'born to do this.' Padmé had found that comment distasteful, and a part of her had wanted to tell him off to convince him to better value his life… but she knew very well that it was never her place to preach such a thing; she had just been shocked at his mournful indifference.
"I didn't know that you took me for such a skilled liar," Padmé laughed. "Not that I am denying it."
Ahsoka shrugged. "But you also don't come into contact with the Jedi often as Rex does, so any information on me is even less likely to spread should you be the one in the know."
Padmé's eyes narrowed in confusion. "May I ask you a question?"
Ahsoka nodded.
"Why are you so concerned with staying off their radar?"
Ahsoka's stared at Padmé as she absorbed the question before her eyes slid to the table, an amused and softly bitter smile gracing her lips.
"A Jedi – even a Jedi with incomplete training – has the potential to be the mightiest tyrant. Not many of us have left the Order as I had, or as Dooku had. It's highly frowned upon… leaving the Order suggests the reality of straying from the path of the light side. They have a coined phrase… 'The Lost Twenty;' a list of Jedi Masters that have left the Order in the past. Two of them I know of became Sith Lords, with Jedi Master Phanius being the very first, and Dooku being the other. Assajj Ventress was also once a Jedi Padawan, as I was. Essentially, any Jedi that leaves the Order becomes a threat; a fully loaded thermal-detonator that, if set off, can wreak devastation. With Dooku in mind, I'm sure you can understand that this fear for fallen Jedi is not unfounded."
"I see," Padmé mused to herself, thinking over the matter carefully. "Do you honestly believe they see you as a threat? I would hope that they wouldn't fall for such a mistake again."
"It makes sense. I was only a Padawan learner after all, and they might even imagine that I have some animosity reserved for them after what happened to me. I don't, but they don't know that. I guess I just… don't want to be under their scrutiny anymore."
Padmé inspected Ahsoka's face closely once more. From the few points in time of Ahsoka's tutelage to Anakin, Padmé had only met with the young Togruta on a number of occasions; the time before this being Ahsoka's trial where Padmé had to act as her lawyer to attest to the young Padawan's innocence from the Temple bombing crisis. Padmé, who had learned that Ahsoka wasn't even on Coruscant during the Temple bombing, and who understood the true value of the coined phrase "Innocent Before Proven Guilty," had decided to believe in Ahsoka's innocence. Although just how much Ahsoka being Anakin's Padawan had to do with her final decision, Padmé didn't know.
Despite Padmé barely knowing the Padawan beyond the simple friendship shared, she knew that the critical weight behind her eyes was not something that had always been there. Before, Padmé had always been able to decipher a sense of energy, justice, and self-entitled enthusiasm; a look that she had recognized from when Anakin was a Padawan himself. There had always been a touch of naiveté, yes, but it was never something that couldn't be quelled by her teachers, she was sure.
Padmé wondered, with a heavy heart, as to the reason for both Ahsoka and Anakin's lost innocence. In the few (and eventful) times Padmé had come into contact with the Jedi Knight over the course of the Clone Wars, she had been able to concede to herself that, though his seemingly self-satisfied and charming smiles, he held a gaze that was harsh and more restrained with the energy that he carried.
Regretfully, the Senator had an idea as to why the Knight hardened himself.
As for Ahsoka, the answer to the riddle was blatantly obvious; out of the entire Jedi Order who had raised her, Anakin had been the only one that remained to believe in the virtuous young woman they all knew her to be. In hindsight, they had ultimately betrayed her. Of course, the hard evidence had apparently stacked up against her, but in the face of that, they had not allowed themselves to look at the evidence of Ahsoka's character and past deeds.
They had failed her completely, but Padmé hoped very much that Ahsoka had not lost herself as a result of losing the world, duty, teachings, and identity she had been raised in.
To Ahsoka's perspective, on the other hand, the Senator looked to her as she always had; boundlessly patient.
"Speaking of which," Ahsoka began with a faint, nearly childlike blush, "I wanted to thank you for sticking up for me at the trial. If it hadn't had been for you constantly rebuffing Tarkin's accusations, I think my sentence would've been given much sooner than it was, and Anakin would have never made it in time.
"And, I also wanted you to know how much I appreciated your trust in my innocence. You belong to a very select group of people, and I understand that you would have risked your reputation had I been the actual terrorist, or even if I had been proclaimed guilty."
A hint of a smile passed over Padmé's lips. "Those that have saved my life before do not lose my trust very easily. Standing up for you was my way of showing my appreciation."
Ahsoka, somewhat bashful, gave a respectful nod before turning the conversation back on track. "Rex told me, not long after I left the Order, that many from the 501st also stood behind me. As it turned out, Fives had been one of the most vocal out of all of them. But after Rex told me the news... he hasn't contacted me since. Something's not right," Ahsoka said, stopping suddenly, and Padmé could tell then that there was something that Ahsoka was not telling her, but she kept quiet.
Padmé sighed and considered all she knew about the incident that Ahsoka had questioned her about. As it was, she didn't know much; it was a sealed case that was highly controversial within the political arena due to it painting Palpatine under the light of a single Clone's conspiracy, and she doubted that even Artoo would be able to pull up any files on the subject.
"Artoo, see what files you might have available on CT-5555."
Ahsoka was relieved that the Senator didn't ask any questions on how she knew about the incident in the first place… because she didn't have a non-incriminating answer. The central-rearing comlink that she had reprogrammed using the frequencies she memorized during her service to the GAR was not something she was willing to relinquish just yet. It was also not something that she was willing to trip onto the radar for, either. However, she wasn't sure how they would gain access to such a sensitive matter without Artoo patching into a central computer.
Artoo, ever the one to surprise, came up with a batch of files despite this. This led Ahsoka to wonder just how involved Anakin – or Rex – really was with Fives' case… as it was apparently enough to have Artoo attain fully downloaded elements.
Without so much as a sound, Artoo called up several distinct files; Ahsoka feared that these files were only introductory. If that were so, then the entire picture would evade them; something that had been a common occurrence for her when she tried to follow the war effort after downgrading to the status of a common citizen.
They remained silent as Artoo opened the files. The first file showed information on the death of Master Tiplar who had been executed during the Battle of Ringo Vinda by CT-5358. The official conclusion of the report stated that the circumstance was caused by a malfunction on the Clone's part, but it was never specified further. There were several files on Fives, on his health reports, on CT-5358's health reports, and on a head scan of Fives. A few articles were brought up that detailed the scene of Fives' death; it mentioned Anakin and Rex's involvement as hostages, but labeled Fives' executioner as the Commander of the Coruscant Guard, Fox, in an act of disarmament and self-defense. The final file showed them the visage of Kaminoan Geneticist Nala Se.
"An independent investigation confirms that the Clone trooper, CT-5555, experienced a malfunction with his inhibitor chip. Both the Senate Committee and the Jedi Council have accepted these findings. However, a grievance report was filed by CT-7567."
"Rex," Ahsoka said for Padmé's benefit. "Artoo, bring up his report."
Artoo denied the request; it was sealed and inaccessible without access to a central computer.
Padmé shook her head, sorry to be the bearer of bad news. "I know just as much about it as you do. Most of what the government officials know about the controversy is based on rumors."
Ahsoka accepted the news unhappily. "I'm tired of being out of the loop."
Padmé considered her next words very carefully, her heart rate bumping up a notch before she spoke. "Maybe you should reconsider asking Anakin about this if it really is that important to you…?"
Ahsoka rubbed the bridge of her nose in answer, but Padmé knew that she just wished to hide her face from sight as she thought. "I… I don't know why this seemed so odd to me. When Rex told me about Fives' death, he… left out information. As if he just didn't know what to make out of it all. He only tells me information as a favor to keep me updated on the war effort, because otherwise, I, uh…"
"It feels as if you've invested your life for nothing?" Padmé asked tentatively.
Ahsoka grimaced and nodded guiltily. "I know it's rather entitled of me to think that, but I feel as if I need to know how this war ends, or how it's going so far. Anyways, when Rex told me what little he could about Fives, I just knew there was something more to it. Something that unsettles me still."
"Enough for you to stop running away just long enough to duck your head up and seek me out?"
"What do you mean?"
Padmé shrugged, not wanting to call Ahsoka out, but just wanting to remind her to be mindful of how she felt. "It seems-" she began to say, but an urgent-sounding transmission call came from Ahsoka's robes before she could finish her thought.
"Excuse me," Ahsoka said, apologetic, but shocked at the transmission. Padmé could tell from Ahsoka's surprise that the transmission was no small trifle.
"Ahsoka! We need-!" A young boy's voice called out in a torrent of panicked gasps. Padmé and Ahsoka both stiffened, and Artoo backed away from the table by the smallest degree.
"Broca?" Ahsoka called back out, her voice calm but imploring. "Broca, what is wrong?"
"The thugs – the Layman Crew! They're after you and they tracked you home – you need to come back, I think they're gonna hurt us if you don't, please-!"
"I'm on my way."
"Hurry-!"
The transmission ended, and Ahsoka looked as if she were about to say her goodbyes before she noticed the Senator.
Within the few seconds that the transmission took place, Amidala's nearly decade-old defensive training kicked in with ease and allowed her to have Artoo signal Captain Typho, loosen the buckle of her blaster, and stand up to begin passage from the table to follow Ahsoka.
"Send the captain 'signal ten'," she advised, to which the little droid accepted with ease having never had his memory wiped.
Ahsoka, not on the same page as Padmé and Artoo, started to give out a protest; wary to allow a Galactic Senator to bust in on a personal crisis.
Amidala, however, stopped the protest with a raised hand. "I had Artoo signal my captain to hone in on my signal but to remain out of sight unless the situation calls for him. 'Signal ten' just means that he needs to retain a constant signal with the Coruscant Guard in dire emergencies. They won't keep quiet about it unlike the Coruscant Security Force, so we need to see if we can deescalate first."
Ahsoka didn't seem to accept this, but Padmé didn't want to give her time to think it over.
"No negotiation on this," she said forcibly. "After you," she added with a hand gesture.
Left with no other choice, Ahsoka nodded and led the way out of the restaurant.
They ran headlong under sweeping spires, through community lots, under bustling airways, through a plethora of alleyways that highlighted every color of the rainbow on their faces, all bright in saturation but dark in mood, sultry in character, and the contrast it made with the inherent darkness of the underworld set Padmé's skin aflame with an excitement she rarely felt – and rarely allowed herself to feel.
"So, is there anything you want to tell us?" Padmé prompted after giving Ahsoka sufficient time to explain the situation without success as they ran side-by-side through the slums of level 1333. The sound of Artoo's motors furiously revving behind them to keep up egged on their sense of urgency.
Padmé could see that her companion was immensely troubled by how the night was turning out. "It's my fault," she said under her breath.
"Why are they after you?"
"I got in the middle of their score – they were going to rob a junkyard that I frequented and I guess you can say I got in their way. I stopped going to the same place after the incident so they couldn't identify me, but, here we are."
Padmé accepted the news with a nod. "And just how big is this gang?"
Ahsoka huffed. "Depends on how badly they want to get back at me I guess."
"Ideal."
Ahsoka gave another huff. "I just don't see how they could have found me. Identify me, sure; montrals are easy to distinguish, but to actually manage to track me? I was careful! I never ran the same route back home, even before!"
"When the population is as dense as it is, anyone can be watching you without it looking out of place. But did they perhaps get the impression that you had access to money?"
Ahsoka's frown deepened. "My financial situation is in shambles, so I can't imagine that I did…"
"What about the family you live under?"
"They're the type of business that these thugs usually go for down here," Ahsoka said after a pause.
Padmé wanted to assure her that it wasn't her fault, but it was likely that the gang targeted her place of lodging because they wanted a score as well as revenge against what they thought to be easy prey.
Then a thought occurred to her as her eyes squinted through the darkness; the only light sources remained to be artificial that was dispersed sparingly throughout the catacomb of the city. She considered their droid companion and decided then that it was a possibility. "Do the people down here have light sensitivity?"
Ahsoka's eyes widened as they met with the Senator's gaze, and a nearly prankish smile widened her face as they banked right. "I think you're onto something, Senator, and just in time too," she said before pointing directly ahead of them towards a structure of interwoven levels and lights; an apartment complex, and their destination from what Padmé could guess by the commotion that ensued just within the apartment's grander public space.
Shouting voices, strobing lights of every color… the scene reeked of a dangerous energy that demanded to be quelled in the name of public safety. Kneeling on the ground with their hands in the air were who Padmé assumed to be Ahsoka's employers – there was a large rust-colored Chagrian male along with a curvy mother-figure who clung to two of her children, a small boy and girl of the same body type and black hair color. The last child - who was far scrawnier and sported a darker skin color with black braids - spotted Ahsoka as soon as they made the scene. Ahsoka saw this and brought a few fingers to her lips to calm down his excitement, and he nodded obediently after thinking it over for a second.
The rest of the party consisted of a band of rat-gutted slimes of every shape, race, and color, but still of the same energy and overall aggressiveness. Only three from what Padmé could see had blasters, but each of them had roughly the same athletic build, making them all threats in their own right.
Padmé brought her hood back to its place around her head while Ahsoka loosened her robes a bit from about her to make her identity better known, exposing the athletic blue jumpsuit that had replaced her Jedi regalia.
"I said stay on your knees!" the Zabrak ringleader of the gang snarled out as he butt-stroked the uncooperating Chagrian male.
Pathetic wheezes and desperate gasps were the only following sound before the male nerved himself back up. "We wanted no part in this! The kid will come, and then you can take her and go! Just leave us be!" He spat on the ringleader for an added effect that was rewarded with a contemptuous chuckle.
"I'm already here," Ahsoka said steadily, her posture relaxed and her voice even, but her fists clenched at her sides all the same.
The smallest boy took that as his permission to speak, and an expressive "Ahsoka!" sounded out around them as a result. His adoration for Ahsoka gleamed apparent within his big brown eyes, and Padmé could see that Ahsoka tensed up at the sight.
All at once, a gaggle of some of the more submissive of the crew followed an unseen order and flocked around the two of them, leaving each of their arms clasped within the hands of two brutes each. It hadn't mattered that they weren't necessarily posed for a fight, so Padmé began to assume that this was a form of revenge, not 'pay-up.'
Which meant their options had scattered to a degree.
Ahsoka gave side glances to the two thugs that held her. "This is all rather unnecessary, don't you think?"
The ringleader used his rifle to point at her lazily. "You. You stole our score."
"I didn't steal anything – just snuffed out a couple of outlaws."
"Come on," he lamented with a gaudy laugh and an eye roll, "that kind of brand of self-righteousness don't prosper down here."
"With people like you siphoning money that isn't yours, I can't say I disagree," she bit back.
His eyes cooled to a degree. "We're only doing what the people above us did to us. They taught us the rule of the game; power and money don't come without exploitation. But hey, I don't see any reason why I should be explaining this to you, anyways. Words of wisdom don't do much for dead men other than add to the irony. Search them," he barked.
Ahsoka, who carried nothing of value on her person, didn't resist while Padmé had to force herself to follow her example. The thug to her right, an older looking Weequay, had no trouble finding the ELG-3A Nubian pistol after Padmé edged out her hip towards him in the hopes that the finding would distract them enough to search her no further; the transmitter that was up her sleeve was too valuable at the moment.
The distraction worked.
"Boss, look what I got! It's a nice piece if I do say so myself," he said with a lecherous drawl as he held up the blaster for the leader to appreciate. The Zabrak requested the pistol with an outstretched hand to which the Weequay obliged as he tossed it over.
"Oh, it is…" The boss agreed. "Very nice. Have no idea what it is, but… I'm sure we can find someone who does."
"There's more where that came from," Padmé added as a few of the thugs gathered around the boss to see if they could identify the pistol. She doubted that they could as it was reserved for the Royal Court of Naboo. "Not that you'd be able to benefit much from, should you kill us."
"Wait a moment," a human male called out from the crowd of thugs. "I- I think I know that blaster – I've seen it before!"
Padmé and Ahsoka shared a concerned glance.
"Well? What is it, Ruggs?" The Zabrak asked impatiently.
The man – Ruggs – made his way to the boss and inspected the pistol closely. "It's from my homeworld, that much I know."
A thug in the back scratched his head. "Where'd you say you were from again?"
"Naboo. And I know for certain that I've seen its type on the black market back home. You know, I even heard that the Trade Federation had their eye out for a similar-looking model a couple years back."
"You mean," the Zabrak began thoughtfully, "the Trade Federation has their sights on it? That would amount to a hefty price, yeah?"
Padmé nodded, an idea forming. "It would, and you can bank my word on it. The Trade Federation has a grudge against those who have the right to an exclusive pistol such as that. It's the Royal Pistol; the signature of the Queen's Court of Naboo."
The cretin that held onto Padmé's left side gave a sneer. "Then how'd you come into its possession?"
"It's simple," Padmé shrugged, ignoring Ahsoka's wide-eyed stare. "My name is Amidala."
"Queen Amidala?" Ruggs asked incredulously.
She nodded. "The very same. But if you don't believe me, then please – come prove my identity for yourselves."
As she had hoped, each of them began to slowly approach her, and as soon as the thug to her left tore her hood from her face, she acted.
"Artoo, now!"
Artoo, who had held back in the alleyway out of sight, came onto the scene so fast that marks were left behind by his passage. An exclamation of battle-cry-sounding squeals rang out as he turned on his beam and engaged his welding mechanism out before him to fire it up against a scrap piece of metal. The welding and the flashing strobes of light incapacitated the gang as their hands moved to protect their eyes, giving Padmé the opportunity to wrench her pistol from the hands of the Zabrak.
Her transmission slipped from her sleeve to her hand. "Captain!"
The captain's reply was a blue flash from a rifle-blaster ricocheting against the ground, the sound leaving its intended impression at they each shot themselves backward as one, scrambling over themselves in their escape. Before Padmé could react, Ahsoka had already incapacitated their captors with a backwards head-butt and a spinning hook kick that missed Padmé's head by a calculated three inches. After the momentum of her kick turned her around to face the Layman Crew in full once more, Ahsoka lunged forward to dish out a Force-push that even made Padmé stumble to the side.
Deciding that they took too long to pick themselves up from the heap that they had crumpled into, Padmé raised her pistol in the air and rapid-fired it, making them stampede over each other like a heard of shaaks. "Come back and we'll have you identified!"
After they made themselves agreeably scarce, Padmé nodded and gave an all-clear signal with the flick of her index and middle finger against her temple. The captain, who hovered in the speeder about four blocks away at a considerable height, began to steer the speeder towards the group.
The family that employed Ahsoka didn't relax from their shriveling until the little boy came bounding to Ahsoka to wrap his arms around her thighs. "I knew you'd come rescue us!"
"Of course, Broca, of course," she replied. "Thanks for calling me. I knew I could always count on you."
The boy became taller by about five inches as he puffed up in pride.
The Chagrian male was far less moved by Ahsoka's valor than Broca was. "You!" He cried out indignantly. "You little scum! I'm going to wring your neck out!"
Padmé didn't think he'd actually follow through with the threat until he started to charge at her. "I don't think so," she said evenly as her shooting hand raised back into the air, its barrel still pointed upwards to keep it as a warning.
"It's okay," Ahsoka sighed.
The man managed to keep his distance as he pointed to the missing horn of his left upper tentacle. Judging by the way it smoked somewhat, they could tell that it was a recent amputation. "This is all your fault! You couldn't keep your damn head down like you were told!"
She held up her hands defensively, staying her ground. "Look, I'm sorry, Doola, I didn't think they'd act out, and certainly not how they did-"
"That's right! You didn't think!"
Broca stood before Ahsoka, his expression mutinous. "She did the right thing!"
Doola gave an outraged splutter. "You shut your mouth, boy!"
"Doola, please-" the mother began to beg.
"You keep quiet too woman!"
"Look, I know I messed up this time, but it won't happen again-"
"You're right on that front missy cause you aren't coming back! You can go and trudge right along back to whatever hole you crawled out from – I don't care what you do so long as you don't come back here."
"Wait-!" Broca cried out. "You can't just throw her out! We need her-"
"We don't need trouble! Now get out of my sight!"
Ahsoka, however, wasn't listening to Doola anymore.
"Didn't you hear me!? I said-"
"Get down!" Ahsoka called out solidly as she knocked herself and Doola to the ground. Padmé and Captain Typho acted in unison and made cover for the speeder with Artoo not far behind them.
"We don't forget faces that easily, and we sure don't give up that easily!" a booming male voice called out defiantly. "Where are you, you little whelps?"
A few more rifle shots blasted out and about them as Padmé saw the Zabrak gang leader teeter along the edge of the corner of the next closest building in the direction they ran off in.
Broca, who couldn't keep up with Ahsoka as she stashed the family behind one of the Layman's speeders, was suddenly suspended in the air to be dropped into the speeder's cockpit.
"Stay down!" Ahsoka warned.
"Captain, can you get a sight?" Padmé asked as Typho assessed the layout around the Zabrak through the rifle's scope.
"Not a clear one," he admitted after a good minute. "He'll clip one of us before we could get him."
"Maybe we can't get him," Padmé said thoughtfully. "But maybe she can." She locked her eyes on Ahsoka who seemed to be mauling over a plan of her own. "Ahsoka! Catch!"
Ahsoka looked up just in time to see the Nubian Pistol soar through the air towards her, and she caught it with ease, her gaze quizzical as she looked over at the Senator from behind cover. Her resolve solidified once she caught sight of the Senator's faith… in her. Padmé gave her a confident nod that was returned to her before Ahsoka stood upright, stepped onto the hood of the speeder to leave its cover, and shot the blaster into the air as Padmé did before her.
"Oi!' she bellowed out. "The whelp is giving you a clean shot - I suggest you take advantage."
The challenge didn't go unaccepted. The Zabrak began to laugh, seemingly amused at the situation as he began to reveal himself from behind the corner of the building. "You're a fun one! I like that. Just you and me little Togruta, yeah?"
"Yeah," she said stoically, the pistol's barrel pointing to the ground as her hands relaxed, her feet spread apart in a sturdy stance, communicating her defiance from backing down. Typho and Padmé shared a knowing nod.
Ahsoka jumped down from the speeder's hood and walked a few paces closer to the Zabrak as he came out from behind his cover. It was silent for ten seconds as they stood face to face. Then, in the span of a blink, the Zabrak shot at her but missed as Ahsoka dodged her head a couple of inches to the right effortlessly. She began to walk towards him once more, almost casually, as he continued to shoot at her, and as she continued to dodge as if she knew his every move before he did; which she did. When she was only about seven meters away from him, he stopped shooting at her in utter bewilderment. Before he could respond, Ahsoka raised her arm and aimed the pistol's barrel directly towards the rifle's barrel; the bolt that followed went right down the throat of the rifle, and the resulting back-fire blasted it into oblivion, along with a good portion of the Zabrak's hands. He gave out a pained holler as Ahsoka merely stood before him.
"Don't come back," she said simply. The Zabrak made another hasty retreat as Ahsoka made her way back towards the stunned group. She inspected the pistol closely when she approached Padmé. "Nice pistol," she said appreciatively before offering it back to her.
"Nice shot," Padmé replied, impressed.
"I'm inclined to agree," Typho added behind her. "How did you manage it? I didn't think that the Jedi taught how to use blasters."
"They don't, but it was an old Master that gave me the idea. He said that as long as you know the path of the bolts, you'd be able to get a rough estimate of the barrel and therefore know how to aim for the power pack. Once you hit the power pack, the system will overload and backfire; granted you have a blaster with precise lining… or that's just what he told me," she added with a modest shrug and a confident smile. "I'm pleased to discover that he was right."
"Ahsoka!" Broca called out as he stumbled his way out of the speeder's cockpit to embrace her once more. "Are you okay?"
She pulled playfully at his braid. "Just fine, Broca." She then had to endure a round of Broca's vocal show of admiration as he explained his every reason for why that had been the coolest thing he'd ever seen.
Broca's face turned mournful as he looked between her and Doola. "Do you really have to leave?"
Ahsoka gave a lidded glance to Doola who only crossed his arms in answer. "Looks to be that way."
"But where will you go then?"
Ahsoka raised her head to assess the city around her. "I'm not sure yet."
Padmé took a step closer to her. "I can help you find a suitable living situation-" she began but stopped as soon as Ahsoka held up her hand.
"Thank you, Padmé… but I need to learn to fend for myself."
Padmé frowned but decided to respect her wishes. "I think you already know how to fend for yourself." She raised the pistol to bring emphasis to it. "Especially with this. Here," she said as she tossed it back to Ahsoka, "Keep it. It's yours until you can acquire its replacement… if you'll consider the prospect."
Ahsoka ducked her head and laughed. "I'm not sure if I'm ready to take that step just yet. Maybe one day, but… I'm pretty sure I'd have to make it off Coruscant in order to do that."
"Well, since you've come into possession of a new speeder," Padmé said with a nod towards the Layman's abandoned speeder, "I'd say you'd better start saving up for the trip out."
"Once I find I new job."
"…I'd like to assume that if you really needed help, you would contact me?"
Ahsoka gave a comforting nod, but Padmé could tell that it was mainly for her benefit.
It looked as if she were about to say something more before an urgent transmission came through on Artoo's hologram.
"Artoo? Artoo where are you?" An all-too-familiar voice rang out as Artoo's holographic display concentrated into the visage of Anakin Skywalker sitting with his elbows against his knees and a transmitter clasped within his right hand. Padmé stiffened as Ahsoka unconsciously took a few steps closer, her wide eyes trained on the visage as she went stock-still.
The pre-recorded message continued, oblivious of its audience. "Look buddy, wherever you are, you need to get back here; it's urgent. Obi-Wan and I just got news of Jedi Master Tu-Anh's death on Utapau. The Council has ordered us to retrieve her body – as well as investigate her death. Something fishy is up. We leave at first light, so you better hurry. Don't make me come after you – you know I will. Skywalker out."
Padmé and Ahsoka exchanged a glance.
"Whoa," Broca said in awe.
The hologram vanished as Artoo angled himself to imploringly look up at Padmé.
"It sounds like someone's missing you in your absence, Artoo," Padmé said with a pat to the astromech's upper dome.
Ahsoka dropped her gaze. "You'd better get him home."
Broca tugged on Ahsoka's left hand. "Was that anoth- I mean, a Jedi?"
Ahsoka stared once more at the empty space that the hologram had previously taken up. "Yes."
Broca let out his third sigh of awe before turning his attention back to her. "You'll stay in contact, won't you?" he asked, sounding desperate.
She then kneeled down to Broca's level, said her goodbyes and empty promises as the boy wiped at the tears on his cheeks, gave a fond wave towards Padmé that was returned before she turned her back on all of them, Padmé's pistol in hand, towards the abandoned speeder.
"And don't worry about me, Senator. I was… I was happy to see you." It looked as if she wanted to say more, but Padmé knew she wouldn't, so she gave an understanding nod; she needn't say more. As Ahsoka loaded up and sped off into the distance, Padmé watched wistfully.
Typho cleared his throat. "Aren't you supposed to say 'May the Force be with you?'"
"That's a goodbye between Jedi. Women say goodbye in their own ways."
"Hmph, well, women find trouble in their own ways too…" he started to say but began to taper off as soon as he realized what he was saying.
The angle in Padmé's eyebrow was sharp enough to dish out paper cuts.
He began to fumble. "I didn't mean it in that way, per se. It wasn't meant as a way to say - that women find more trouble-"
"Oh? Then what did you mean, Captain?"
"What I meant to say is that I should've expected no less of you, my lady."
"Is that right? And how do you mean?"
"I knew from the beginning that you would find trouble; you always do-"
"And does my ability in 'finding trouble' have anything to do with my sex?" She asked, her voice scathing but her intention nothing more than a merciless tease. She knew that Captain Typho never meant to offend her – he was much too loyal to her to do that - but his social graces were lacking enough to leave his intentions off. In reality, the only time they bumped heads was when her safety was a topic of interest.
"Nothing at all, my lady."
"And you take that knowledge with you to your last day."
The captain couldn't have looked more defeated if he had tried. "You know I shall, my lady."
Padmé couldn't help but chuckle as she clasped his shoulder briefly with her left hand, the informality of the present moment allowing the act of affection to remain in line with their proper and designated behaviors.
And then her eyes made an arc back towards the mechanical sky of Level 1333. Within the privacy of her own mind, and despite her bold declaration, Padmé obliged to the captain's remark and prayed the message to the fallen Padawan wordlessly.
'May the Force be with you.'
Unknown to Padmé, Ahsoka had done the same.