Summary: "'It is generally frowned upon for one of the Temple Guard to speak to other Jedi in matters other than the safety of the Order.'" With the help of Obi-Wan and Master Drallig, Ahsoka seeks out a Jedi Master she has lost contact with. It turns out that the Jedi leading clones out to war aren't the only ones overworked. One-shot. Set early on in the Clone Wars.

A/N: This was supposed to end up ending with a nice little reunion, but then I got tired and it turned into poor Quizzy being sleep deprived. So…that's great. Anyway.

Grand Inquisitor/The Sentinel = Rakesh Brem (altered from general fandom headcanon because there is only one person I can call Thanos, and he's in the MCU).

For the record, Brakan Mavor, the other Temple Guard, is an Iridonian Zabrak who I see as often being paired up with Rakesh. (He's the OC in this fic, by the way).

Cracks In The Mask

"Master Obi-Wan?" Ahsoka says one day, when Anakin is off on a solo task.

Obi-Wan has been left as the one watching over her, and, so far, she hasn't been much trouble, following his commands without incident- which she is, sadly, better at than Anakin has ever been. Right now, they are in his quarters in the Temple on Coruscant, where they've just finished an hour's mediation.

"What happened to Master Brem?" She asks him.

"The Pau'an?" Obi-Wan frowns, at a loss as to why she would ask such a thing. He has to admit, out of all the questions that Anakin's padawan could have asked him, he never imagined that it would be about another Jedi Master, never mind one who he has not heard from himself in several years.

"Yes." The young Togruta nods, seeming almost pleased that he knows who she's asking him about. "Rakesh Brem. I used to know him quite well, before I became a padawan."

He explains it at its simplest. "Master Brem is no longer part of the main body of the Jedi Order."

"What do you mean? Is he dead?" Her eyes widen in sudden worry.

"Oh, he's alive." Obi-Wan assures the padawan, watching how she sinks in relief. "He was selected to join the Temple Guard a few years ago."

"The Temple Guard? Why?"

"That, Ahsoka, is a question for Master Drallig. Being Chief of Security, he chooses who serves in the Guard. But, I assure you, Master Brem was chosen for a reason."

"Do you think Master Drallig would let me talk to him?" Ahsoka questions.

Obi-Wan gives an apologetic smile as he shakes his head. "It is generally frowned upon for one of the Temple Guard to speak to other Jedi in matters other than the safety of the Order." When her face falls, he adds,"But, perhaps, I could put in a request for you."

"Really?" Her eyes light up. "You would do that?"

"Of course." His smile is more gentle now, fond in the same way that it would be toward Anakin when he was younger.

"Thank you, Master!"


There is no emotion; there is peace.

There is no ignorance; there is knowledge.

There is no passion; there is serenity.

There is no chaos; there is harmony.

There is no death; there is the Force.

The Sentinel repeats those words to himself as he stands still at the back of the First Hall of the Archives, another nameless, faceless figure standing a few feet off to his right. Their hands hold their lightsaber pikes still in front of their outward-facing breasts, their arms unwavering. The other Jedi in the temple, if they didn't know any better, would probably refer to them as statues, as emotionless and silent as they are.

This is their job, their sole duty: to observe and protect.

They are good at it. They have to be good at it.

The Jedi Temple is their home; the Jedi Order is their life.

To those outside of the Guard, they are just a mask- nameless, faceless, unknown. Only one person otherwise knows who each of them is, and that is not supposed to be the young padawan Ahsoka Tano.

"Master Brem!"

A ripple of surprise escapes into the Sentinel's Force signature before he can mask it. He remains still in the face of the orange-skinned Togruta racing up to them. They say nothing. To socialize is not their job. To be known is not their job. The Sentinel knows this. The padawan must know this.

But the girl is not deterred. She skids to a halt in front of them. She shouldn't be running in the Archives. "Master Brem?"

The Sentinel says nothing. Their silence is their strength.

The padawan glances between them uncertainly. "I know I'm not supposed to talk to you, but Masters Kenobi and Drallig gave me permission."

The other Guard recites the same mantra that pulses through each of their heads, his voice detached and changed by his mask.

She tries to hold her head up. "Please?"

They say nothing.

Her face falls and she sighs, mumbling an apology as she turns away, feet almost dragging as she heads back the way she had come. Her disappointment echoes out into the Force.

The Sentinel steps forward, urged by the feeling of something he hasn't been able to feel in so long- regret. He hopes he doesn't regret this. "Padawan. Wait."

And she stops, turns back towards him with the brightest spark of hope he's ever seen in a creature's eyes. Nonetheless, her voice is edged with a neutral caution. "Yes?"

He holds back a sigh. "Let us speak with Master Drallig about this matter." He lowers his arms and clips his lightsaber pike to his belt. He gestures towards the exit as he passes her. "Come."

The other Guard says nothing, but shifts to accommodate for the Sentinel's absence. They cannot leave the Archives unprotected.

The padawan follows the Sentinel.

There is no emotion; there is peace.

There is no ignorance; there is knowledge.

There is no passion; there is serenity.

There is no chaos; there is harmony.

There is no death; there is the Force.

The early Coruscant sun shines through the large windows in the halls, but the Sentinel pays them no mind. He and the padawan pass few Jedi. At this hour, most that are of a diurnal species on world have either yet to rise or are congregating for their morning meal down in the refectories.

The padawan must have decided to seek him out first thing. A busy schedule on her hands, perhaps? Padawans are often flooded with training- and, these days, fighting out beside the clone battalions on various fronts.

The Sentinel blinks. He must remain focused.

Drallig will be up by now, he knows. He's always up early, just in case, for the Chief of Security must be as vigilant as the Guard which he commands- if not moreso. Even now, there is an ongoing playful debate about whether he even sleeps.

They're nearly there. The Sentinel has been this way perhaps thousands of times before, and will be again for thousands of times to come.

"Are you Master Brem?" The padawan finally asks.

"I believe you already know the answer to that." He carefully replies, though he knows he shouldn't indulge her on her curiosity; it creates bad habits. But, then again, Master Kenobi seems to be indulging her himself, and he is the model Jedi. The Sentinel is likely doing more harm to himself than to her.

"Right." He can hear the light smile amid her correction. "My apologies, Master."

It's been some years since he has been addressed as a Jedi Master. Having heard it several times in the short duration that the padawan has been with him has been…disorienting, for lack of better word. Even hearing his very own name outside of Drallig and the other Guard members is strange. He's gotten used to his anonymity.

The Sentinel refrains from shaking his head. He needs to retain his anonymity, for the good of the Temple and the Order alike.

There is no emotion; there is peace.

There is no ignorance; there is knowledge.

There is no passion; there is serenity.

There is no chaos; there is harmony.

There is no death; there is the Force.

Their echoing footsteps come to a halt just outside of the closed door that marks Cin Drallig's quarters on one of the main levels of the Temple Ziggurat.

The Chief of Security had purposely relocated to this floor not long after he had taken up his role- before the Sentinel's time in the Guard had begun- to be nearer to the Guard Halls.

Each of those in the Guard had given up their personal quarters when they had withdrawn their identities from the main Jedi body- part for the anonymity factor, part for bonding with the other faceless ones they serve with. Drallig's closer presence offers the comfort of his respect and awareness, and acts as a bridge between them and the main Order.

Before knocking, the Sentinel pauses and draws on the Force, reaching out into the living space behind the door to feel for Drallig's own Force signature, to see if he has not left yet. He finds that it is indeed there, as sturdy and welcoming as always, and the Sentinel lets himself return to his body. He glances down to the padawan at his side and gives a curt nod of confirmation, then raps his knuckles against the durasteel.

The Sentinel is patient. He repeats the Order's mantra to himself again as they wait.

The padawan is not as patient. She fidgets beside him. She still flinches when the door slides open with a sharp hiss.

"Rakesh?" Cin Drallig has always had a way of knowing exactly which of them he is speaking to, despite the unmarked, matching masks. The Sentinel has given up trying to figure out how. He moves aside to let them in. "Aren't you supposed to be on the current shift?"

The Sentinel gestures to his headwear as the door slides back into place. "May I?"

"She already knows who you are. I see no harm in it." Drallig points out, giving the padawan an easy greeting that she returns.

The hood falls back, and the mask comes off. The Sentinel is off duty for the time being, Rakesh Brem slipping through where the mask has fallen away.

A multitude of emotions flits over the padawan's- Ahsoka's face. It's always a struggle to switch from such formalities back to casual.

He gives a faint, weary smile and extends a silent blanket of warmth out to her through the Force as he moves to sit down on one of the couches to relieve his legs while he has the chance to. It's a surprise that none of the other Guard members decided to crash here.

The girl responds in kind to his acknowledgement.

Drallig sits himself across from him. "Well?"

"She was...insistent that I speak with her. I wasn't sure how valid your permission was if I didn't come to you about it as well." Rakesh admits, scratching at the base of his ear coverings. The skin there itches. Though, he supposes that being allowed to remove his mask has answered the question at hand, about Ahsoka speaking with him.

A little defensively, he can't help but to add,"And Brakan is more than capable of watching for the both of us for a moment. I highly doubt that the Temple will fall due to a single Guard missing from the First Hall."

He expects to get scolded. He ends up being surprised.

"You look tired." Cin observes. "Have you been taking double shifts again?"

"An extra pair of eyes never hurt anything." He insists. He'll never confess that he is tired. "I can see in the dark, you know."

"Right, but doesn't exhaustion make you miss things?" Ahsoka pipes up from behind him. When he turns, he notes that her eyes are filled with more curiosity than accusation.

Rakesh shrugs. "That is why we commonly work in pairs. If one of us misses something, the other is likely to catch it. Either way, we more often deal with padawans who try to sneak around while their masters are asleep than anything else."

"All the more reason for you to rest while there is no danger." Master Drallig reminds him, holding a tone not unlike what Rakesh imagines a parent would use on its child. He rises from where he sits, moving towards the open-walled kitchenette. "You are to stay here until your next scheduled shift. Are you hungry?"

"I- No?" He's not often caught off guard, but he has been this time. He tries to smother the flare of irritation as it springs up. He sounds like a pouting child. "This is hardly fair. I take great pride in what I do."

"And I take great pride in looking after my Guard when they need it." Cin returns in a tone that leaves no room for argument, even as he prepares to cook up a meal. "Ahsoka, do stay. Watch over him for me. I am sure that you have the time, with Master Skywalker offworld."

She doesn't even hesitate. "Of course, Master Drallig."

Rakesh sighs when he realizes that he really isn't going anywhere. He lays back. Brakan is never going to let him stop hearing about this once he finds out where he ended up, is he?

A familiar pattern of words lulls him to sleep.

There is no emotion; there is peace.

There is no ignorance; there is knowledge.

There is no passion; there is serenity.

There is no chaos; there is harmony.

There is no death; there is the Force.