Padmé was shaking.

The shuttle thrummed beneath her seat, Fordo kneeling in front of her. He was wrapping her wrist, his precision similar to that of Jar Jar's instead of someone who had medical training. She supposed that he wasn't used to doing rescue missions.

Alpha was hovering over Ahsoka who had been laid onto an empty bunk, the Togruta deathly silent beside her wheezing. The commando was quiet as well, his medical expertise apparently more thorough than Fordo's as he pushed a series of hypos into her arm.

"You spoke to the Council?" Fordo asked out loud, tying a double knot into the end of the bandage.

Alpha hummed, "They'll be waiting for us."

Padmé stared at Ahsoka's unmoving body. If it weren't for the slight rise and fall of her chest, she would've thought that the girl was dead. Alpha moved, blocking Ahsoka's face from view. Padmé's gaze fell to her feet, guilt overwhelming her.

"Ma'am?"

She sniffed, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. "Yes?"

"I asked if you had other injuries," Fordo's helmet tilted, "There's bruising on your neck."

At that, Alpha turned around, his helmet now removed so she saw his scars twist as he frowned. Padmé touched her neck, pulling away quickly. It was tender and sore, thanks to Dooku.

"Nothing that won't heal," she said hoarsely, eyes focusing on Ahsoka again, "Will she be alright?"

"She will if they can figure out what he gave her," Alpha sighed, turning back to the Jedi, "Temp's elevated, pulse is slow. Common symptoms of toxins in the bloodstream. She's also showing symptoms of overexposure to electricity. I can keep her stable until we reach Coruscant."

He was looking down at her with a fond expression, very much like the look Captain Rex would give the young girl.

"I'm sorry," Padmé admitted, her voice breaking, "I never meant for her to get hurt. I never meant for any of this."

Fordo sat back on his knees, removing his helmet at last. His face was as burly as any other clone- a distinct tattoo of two sevens below his right eye.

"Respectfully, Senator, I'm sure Commander Tano weighed the risks before agreeing to escort you to Raxus. It wasn't your brightest idea, but it was bloody brave of you."

"Fordo's right," Alpha added, "Not many politicians would risk personal safety to discuss peace with a Seppie."


Mina knew what was coming.

She'd known her fate before the clone troopers had left the prison facility with Padmé and Ahsoka in tow. She'd known what the consequences would be for aiding the Republic's rescue mission.

But she had no regrets. Padmé was her friend, and Ahsoka was too young and pure to be killed.

"I'm going for a meeting with Count Dooku," she told Lux, wishing she could kiss away the lines of worry on his forehead. "Stay here."

Her son nodded, and Mina walked away.

That was the last time she ever saw her son.


"Skywalker here."

"They have Ahsoka and Padmé."

Anakin sprung out of his chair, tipping it over in the process. The tedious adjustments he was making to some droid parts, in an effort to stop himself from wearing a hole in the floor, was suddenly forgotten.

"Are they okay?"

He heard Obi-Wan sigh through the commlink.

"Padmé's got some bumps and bruises- a fractured wrist being the worst of her injuries. Ahsoka is... unwell."

Obi-Wan sounded unsure, and Anakin panicked.

"What do you mean? Is she talking? Is she conscious?"

"Alpha was brief when he called," Obi-Wan answered, trying to keep his voice steady. "They're on their way back to Coruscant. They should be arriving at the Temple in two hours, give or take."

"I'll be there."


Their arrival on Coruscant was a blur.

Anakin was waiting for them, along with members of the Jedi Council and a team of Healers. As soon as Ahsoka was on their stretcher, they were gone, Master Che giving out orders about dehydration and blood tests whilst Alpha gave her a lengthy handover.

By the time the chaos cleared, Padmé was positively dizzy and looked for her husband. He was following Ahsoka, trying to keep up whilst also not getting in the way.

"Padmé," she turned to Obi-Wan, who looked worse for wear, "You should see the Healers too."

She went with him, appreciating how he grounded her with a gentle hand on her back.

"I didn't mean to be such trouble," she told him, her mouth feeling as though it was full of cotton wool.

"It doesn't matter," he assured, "What's important is that you are both safe, and back where you belong."


Anakin watched as the Temple Healers fussed over Ahsoka.

The girl was still on the cot, her face pale beneath the oxygen mask that was fogging with every laboured breath. He clung to their bond through the Force, flooding it with healing and safety-love-relief. Ahsoka was too far under to respond.

Windu appeared at his side, seemingly out of thin air. "How is she?"

"They've reversed the toxin." Anakin murmured, fighting to keep his voice steady. "Master Che said that if she survives the next hour, then she'll be okay."

The elder Jedi seemed off, like he was uncomfortable. Anakin took a breath, "What's wrong?"

"Mina Bonteri is dead."

Anakin lightly closed his eyes.

Oh, Padmé...

He really needed to see his wife, to see she was okay with his own eyes, but he couldn't walk away whilst Ahsoka was still at risk of dying.

"Do you want to inform the Senator, or shall I?" Windu asked, and Anakin was surprised that he was being given the choice.

"I'll tell her later." He replied, opening his eyes to watch the medics. Ahsoka was in a medical gown, her dirty and tattered clothes put in a bin. He made a mental note to find her a spare set. The weight of her lightsabers in his clenched hands was heavy.


Anakin arrived at her apartment in the early hours of the morning.

Padmé was still awake, sat on the sofa and staring at the opposite wall. She hadn't been able to wash or even change since coming back from the Temple. All she'd had to eat was a ration bar that Fordo gave her (which was like chewing on cardboard) and a cup of tea from Obi-Wan.

She felt numb.

Distantly, she was aware that Anakin said her name as he walked towards her. She couldn't even turn around- ashamed of the harm she had caused.

Only when her husband kneeled in front of her, with a tender look on his face, did she even blink.

"Love," he said gently, eyes surveying her.

"Is Ahsoka okay?" She whispered, keeping her eyes downcast.

"Yeah, she's fine," he reached out, laying his flesh hand over hers and giving it a squeeze, "She's resting now, but Master Che said she'll make a full recovery."

His other hand pushed her shirt away from her neck, and she looked up in time to see his eyes narrow at the bruising that Dooku left behind.

"Why aren't you yelling at me yet?" She asked, barely above a mumble. "I nearly got your Padawan killed."

"Do you know how many times I've blamed myself for Ahsoka getting hurt?" He replied, cupping her cheek and rubbing his thumb across her skin. She leaned into his warmth. "There's plenty of time for us to talk later. For now, let me look after you, okay?"

She nodded, incredibly tired, "Okay."


Anakin helped Padmé change out of her dirty clothes, his worry spiking when she let out a wince. There was more bruising across her side, she muttered something about Dooku pushing her into the wall of her cell.

As a consequence of the bruised ribs, he had to help her in the fresher. Usually, it was her helping him- especially when he was too sore to wash his own hair after long and tiring campaigns.

Once the dirt and grime was cleaned from her skin, Anakin wrapped her in a fluffy towel. Some of the colour was back in her cheeks, but she still had a faraway look in her eyes.

He helped her into some comfier clothes, then seated her on the sofa to heat up some food. Padmé had a constant supply of convenient meals in her cupboards for him to eat when she was away.

He took the piping hot food to her on a tray, along with a hot cup of tea and a selection of pills from his field medkit.

"Painkillers and sleeping pills," he told her, tipping the medicine into her palm. "It'll make you feel better, I promise."

She took the pills without protesting, and he sat nearby as she worked through the meal. Padmé was deathly quiet, which was never a good sign, but he didn't want to press her to talk about what she'd gone through.

She would tell him when she was ready.

When she was finished and he took the tray away, Anakin sat at her side. He took her hands, glad they were warmer now, and looked at her.

"Mina's dead," he told her gently.

Padmé's eyes filled with tears.

"I'm sorry."

He really was.


Ahsoka expected to die.

She didn't expect to wake up in the Halls of Healing, immediately to be swallowed into her Master's embrace. She felt like crap. Her head ached, and her limbs felt like jelly.

"You'll feel weak for the next few days," Master Che told her, "But by all accounts, you were incredibly lucky, little one."

"Is Padmé okay?" She asked Anakin who had only just released her.

"She's fine," Anakin said, smoothing a hand over her montrals. She could feel how worried he had been through the Force, even though he gave her a wobbly smile. "She's waiting outside. Do you want to see her?"

Ahsoka nodded. "How long have I been about?"

"A couple of days," he said, getting ready to stand. "Master Che said you can go back to your quarters tonight. As soon as you're back on your feet, I think the Council want to have a chat."

"You'd think this was enough punishment in itself," She grumbled, gesturing to the different IVs and electrodes stuck to her skin.

"Never do that to me again, Snips," he chastised, though she could hear the tenderness in his tone. "I'm serious. I don't care if Padmé orders you to go with her. Tell me, and I'll put her straight."

"I won't do it again, Master," she assured him, "Once was enough."

He ruffled the valley between her montrals, "Good to have you back, kiddo."


Unsurprisingly, the Council hadn't gone lightly on Ahsoka. She was grounded to the Temple for a month, swamped with guard duty and meditation sessions. She grumbled about the punishment, but ultimately accepted that her actions were out of line.

Padmé felt horrible that the girl had been penalized whilst all she got was a reprimand from the Chancellor for breaking the law.

She made an effort to take Ahsoka out for meals and day trips (with Anakin as an escort, to keep the Council happy) and even managed to busy her in her office which meant her guard duty shifts were cut in half.

It amazed Padmé that the Togruta didn't hold any grudge towards her, despite what happened.

It showed Ahsoka's true character.

"She knew that what we were doing was wrong," Padmé admitted to Anakin one evening, her wounds all healed. Her wrist was still in a splint. "She said you wouldn't approve, and I told her that you wouldn't worry if you didn't find out."

"So, if you made it back without getting caught, you didn't intend to tell me?" Anakin asked, sounding hurt.

"I guess," Padmé dropped her head, sighing heavily. "I was just so… frustrated that nobody was trying to negotiate peace. How are we supposed to end this war if the politicians on either side aren't even allowed to interact?"

"There were other ways to go about this, Padmé," Anakin said, "You didn't have to put your lives at risk by going to Raxus."

"I felt inclined to show Ahsoka what the Separatists are like. That they're people, not just droids."

Anakin stood up from where he leaned against her desk, "Ahsoka watches her friends be killed by droids every day in the field."

"But Ahsoka shouldn't grow up believing that the Republic is good and the Separatists are bad."

Anakin's eyes narrowed, "You don't believe that?"

"I believe that this war should end, and peace should be restored." Padmé fired back. "And if Ahsoka spends every day fighting in trenches and on battlefields, then she deserves to understand the politics behind the conflict."

Anakin was annoyed that he could see the point she was trying to make.

He wasn't the most… open-minded when it came to the war. He knew that the Separatists were bad, and the Republic was good. He had always tried to instil those beliefs into his Padawan too, but perhaps Padmé was right.

If Ahsoka was putting her life on the line for this conflict, then she deserved to understand both sides. After all, Jedi were peacekeepers, not soldiers. Someday, the war would end, and he didn't want his Padawan to live with the same judgement towards others that he had grown up with.

"Just promise me you won't take her behind enemy lines again."

Padmé crossed the room to wrap her arms around him, "I promise."

He held her tight, "And promise me you won't endanger your own safety either."

She smiled, "That's pretty difficult, but I'll try my best."