Chapter 9: The Truth
18 BBY- 1 Year after the Rise of the Empire
Whispers of "the cause" had begun to circulate around Raada. Rumors of "the mechanics" living down the road from the local cantina and their "role" in the matter travelled lightly from ear to ear, from chin to chin.
After they told Vartan and the others about their little journey to the caves at Kolvin's house that night, things had started to spread.
Before Rex and Ahsoka knew it, they had become the so-called center of rebel operations.
With confidence, the farmers knocked on their door, smelling of wet earth and sun-soaked sweat, and injected themselves into Ahsoka and Rex's schedule. They would tell her what they could donate to the "refuge in the caves" and what droids or tools they would need fixed to do so. Then, without so much as a nod of confirmation, they would leave before Ahsoka could already explain that she had such and such resource, or she had too many droids to fix already.
It was an assertive type of authority that Ahsoka hadn't had to deal with since her time in the Order. She'd gotten so many promised donations for "the refuge" that she wasn't sure how she'd carry it all there on her own. And she had so many droids and tools piled up around the shop that she wasn't sure she'd be able to sleep for the next three days, either.
It was… a little exhilarating, if she were to be completely honest.
In the weeks that followed, she and Rex very quickly realized that Raada was in much deeper a consensus in regard to the Empire than they had thought: everyone wanted them gone.
As encouraging as their enthusiasm was, Ahsoka and Rex were both experienced military leaders and were fully aware that there was never such a thing as "gone". Just merely "further away" and with less executive control of the planet.
The end goal, as they had both made very clear to Vartan and the others, was not complete secession from the Empire. That was just unrealistic.
"Well, then what is?" Chenna had asked.
The aim was to become a mandate state of the Empire.
A territory, in simpler terms, that was legally under the control of the Empire but indirectly so, supervised perhaps by an Imperial provisional governor, but directly managed by someone from Raada itself, most likely someone selected by the Empire for their leadership experience.
Absolute sovereignty, Rex had stated firmly, would be unattainable.
"Why not?" Kolvin had asked, doubtful.
"Because if Raada declared and—hypothetically—did achieve independence, the Empire would simply leave the planet and form a blockade around it," Ahsoka had explained. "They'd cut Raada off from the rest of the Outer Rim and any other planets and let it choke itself dry. Eventually, the only choice the planet would have left would be to go back to the Empire and plead forgiveness."
Kolvin and the others quickly agreed to their plan after that.
Things moved quickly and the plan was beginning to take shape. It started out a bit chaotic. It could be said that, much to Rex's disapproval, Ahsoka did not sleep very much. But, as she argued, it was for a good reason. And she was right: Raada's freedom was a very, very good reason.
Every night—or very early morning, depending on how one looked at it—she would climb into her rack reeking of droid parts and greasing oil to catch a smidge of sleep. Then she'd be up and at it again by the crack of dawn.
Fixing things was methodical. Piecing together the gears and the bolts was a miracle of mechanics that protected her like a spell.
Rex was busy, too. He mostly worked on the broken blasters and old, rickety weapons that the townspeople had stormed in and declared they needed fixed "in case there be a lil' skirmish".
That had been… a little concerning.
For a while, they worried that one overly-eager person would try to take matters into their own hands. But after speaking with Vartan, he assured them that the townspeople had been very clearly warned to adhere to the plan in place, and that no such "skirmish" would occur unless indicated to.
In between fixing blaster pistols and slugthrowers, Rex would somehow manage to cook up a bit of patuu rice or a bowl of rootleaf stew to keep them fueled and running. He would have to place it down in Ahsoka's lap and physically remove the tool she was using from her hand before she would blink back to reality and realize what was going on and that food was a necessary form of sustenance.
"But it's for a good cause," she would remind him.
Rex would only give her a dubious look before sighing and digging in himself.
One night, during one such meal, Ahsoka was contemplating how to get everything they'd been brought to the caves. There were tons of ration packs, tools, and weapons they'd been given, all of which were too heavy and too many to carry in a backpack across the fields.
Her nose crinkled and her eyebrows knitted together as she sat, deep in thought, sipping at the soup Rex had made that night (morning?).
Rex stared at her. Then he sighed and set down his spoon.
"I can hear the gears in your brain spinning at a thousand klicks an hour."
And the floodgates were opened.
"I just don't see how we can carry all of the resources we've obtained in a realistic time frame," Ahsoka blurted. "The tools, for one, are cumbersome and don't fit well into any bags, so we'd have to make multiple—oh, I don't know, maybe three or four—trips for those. And the ration packs, even though they're small, there's just so many of them that we'd have to take at least seven for those alone." She shovelled in another spoonful of soup and swallowed. "And the weapons! Don't even get me started on the weapons. They're big, they're bulky, and they're highly illegal. There is no way either of us could carry a bunch of weapons across the farming fields without some storm trooper noticing and reporting us for suspicious activity. And if we got arrested, they'd search the shop, and they'd probably find the caves, too. And then where would we be?"
Rex stared at her, simultaneously trying to process everything she said while also looking for a way to get her to breathe in between her sentences.
"Well," he started.
"And I'm not sure the main cave that we chose is big enough for all of this stuff, let alone to shove in all of the townspeople if things went wrong. We'll probably have to go back out there sometime soon, maybe tomorrow morning, and check through the others on the sides of it, as well. The one may be a bit tight, but the other has potential. They might even all connect eventually, deeper in. We could figure out a lighting system for the passages so that—"
"Ahsoka."
"—we could have backup caves to hide in if the first one gets found out. In fact, we should also check to see if there's another exit. I'm sure there is one somewhere, caves are like that. We'll have to make sure it's clear, because if there is an emergency, people will be panicked and they'll be moving fast, so we need to make sure nothing's hanging down or poking up that will smack them in the head or ram them in the gut. I think—"
"Ahsoka," Rex said again, this time more firmly.
For the first time, she noticed he was trying to get her attention. "Oh. Yes?"
He breathed out a little in relief and he took another bite of his soup. "I think that first, before all of this, you need to hit the rack and get some shut-eye."
Ahsoka blinked.
"We're not even on the same page," she realized.
"No, we're not."
He stood up and took the empty bowl from her hand that she hadn't even realized she'd finished. He sloshed in another ladle-full of soup and handed it back to her. Reluctantly, she accepted.
"If any of this is going to work at all, we need to be on top of our game," Rex said calmly, getting a second helping for himself. "Being fully rested will make all the difference in our efficiency."
"But we're trained to go three days without sleep in the field," she argued.
"In the field, yes. But this isn't the field. There's no adrenaline, no immediate danger. It's not the same."
Ahsoka couldn't argue that, and she knew it. She resentfully accepted her loss and resigned to silently eating her soup.
The quiet continued until Rex drained the last drops of his soup and got to his feet. He set the empty bowl next to the pot. "I'm gonna hit the 'fresher," he said, walking over to the tiny room on the side of the shop. He grabbed the towel off the hook on the back of the door and glanced back at her. "You should, too."
Ahsoka frowned. "Are you saying I smell bad?"
Rex ducked into the 'fresher without another word and closed the door behind him, but she was pretty sure she caught the edge of a smirk as he disappeared.
"Half-witted dipstick," she muttered. She heard the water turn on and the rings on the shower curtain tug close, then glanced herself over once.
Sticky, black droid oil stained her fingers and was smeared across her arms. Splotches of it had somehow gotten onto her legs, clothes, and even parts of her lekku.
So, maybe Ahsoka wasn't at her freshest. But it had only been… what, a day, three days, since her last shower?
She reached up to feel her face and felt something sticky on her cheek.
…Maybe it was time for a quick rinse.
Rex barely had time to wrap his towel around his waist before Ahsoka barged in after hearing the water shut off. Glowering, she ignored his vividly-red face and snatched her towel off the wall, tossing it over the shower rod and grumbling to herself.
"'Hit the fresher', huh?" she muttered, hopping on one foot as she struggled to pull off her boot, "well maybe you should smell yourself first."
"I did," Rex objected, flustered. He gripped his shaving razor and strained to look over her montrals at his reflection in the crooked mirror on the wall. "That's why I decided to shower."
"Whatever," she growled, stepping into the crude shower and yanking the curtains closed. She proceeded to tug off her clothes and throw them over the rod next to her towel. The water switched on a moment later.
Rex only sighed, shook himself, and leaned in closer to the mirror as he started to shave.
Ahsoka let the water rain down over her head, enjoying the feeling of the dirt running off her skin and dribbling into the drain below. She used her hands to rub the back of her neck and wash her arms and legs. Clean felt good.
"You're steaming up the mirror."
"Not my problem."
She worked to remove the dirt from the crook of her knees and under her fingernails. She used her thumbs to rub at the dips of her collarbone and under her jaw.
Rex finished up his shave, and she was left alone. She started to hum a made-up tune to herself, getting lost in the methodical process of bathing. She wanted every speck of dirt and grime gone. She rubbed at her face and her thighs and her shoulders. She used her nails to dig out the dirt in the creases of her palms and in between her toes.
She finished up her shower, switched off the water, and gave herself a quick look-over in the mirror to make sure she hadn't missed any dirt before moving on. Towel-dried off, she changed into the only other set of clothes she had. Her skin felt soft and smooth and new against the rough, scratchy cotton of the clothes. The oversized tunic draped loosely across her shoulders and the baggy trousers were a little too short to be called anything but capris. They were much better suited for sleepwear rather than working, but she could make do.
Rex had turned off the light, leaving the room swathed in darkness. The stars outside were the only source of light, but it was pale and grey, filtering in from the window like silk. Ahsoka stepped up to the dusty glass panes and looked out. The black night of the sky was already threatening to give way to a rosy dawn. She clutched at her arms and her mouth formed a line.
"Go to sleep, 'Soka," she heard Rex mumble sleepily from the bottom rack on the other side of the room. "I know what you're thinking, and it's not worth staying up."
"But I need to start moving the ration packs over to the caves. And I still haven't finished the droid I'm working on," she protested.
But weighted exhaustion was pulling at the back of her eyelids even as she spoke. Outside, the stars were beginning to fade.
"Go to sleep." Rex shifted in his rack and rolled over.
Ahsoka only hesitated for one more moment before giving in. Sighing, she crossed the room and climbed into her rack.
"Whatever we do, we can't sleep in. We have things to do."
Rex let out a drowsy grumble. "Do we really need to be up at dawn every day?"
"Don't be asinine. Of course we do."
Upon hearing no reply, she stretched and tugged the sheet over her shoulders. Her head hit the pillow and she closed her eyes.
Then she was dead to the world.
The warm, nutty aroma of freshly-brewing caf hit Ahsoka's nose and drew her eyes to flutter open. She blinked, slowly and sleepily, then yawned.
Drowsily, she sat up and clambered down out of her rack, stretching her arms high above her head. She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hands and smiled at Rex, who stood by the caf maker on the counter. Then she made her way back to the window and stared out, hugging herself.
"Good morning," Rex said.
"Mhm, morning," Ahsoka murmured, still trying to wake herself up. "…morning," she said again, a bit quieter.
Outside the window, the sky was blue and the sun burned high in the sky, a bit past noon. It was not the pale, hazy-yellow rays of sunlight and the dew-heavy mist of morning she expected.
She rubbed her thumbs back and forth against her clean arms, processing. "Morning…"
"I've got a fresh pot on," Rex told her. "But we're almost out of grounds, so we'll need to swing by the general store today."
Ahsoka didn't answer. She was still staring out the window, squinting at the sun.
Then realization dawned on her.
"It's so late!" she gasped, whirling around and darting across the room. She pulled her boots out of the fresher and struggled to tug them on, moving as fast as she could. "I slept too long!"
As soon as her boots were on and fastened, she started to dig around the room for her toolbox. She had a client who had needed his speeder fixed by the end of the day, a droid that still wasn't working, multiple tools to adjust and enhance, and an absolutely copious amount of supplies that she still hadn't figured out how to get to the caves!
"Why did you let me sleep so long?!" she blurted, finding the toolbox and dragging it out from underneath the table. She hastily started to grab her tools scattered around the shop and throw them into the box.
"Because you needed it," Rex said simply, pouring a cup of caf then walking over to her. He stopped her, took the toolbox out of her hand, and replaced it with the steaming caf.
Ahsoka blinked back at him, confused.
"Plus, the rings under your eyes were getting darker than the robes of Palpatine himself," he added.
He didn't mention that there were also still wrinkle marks pressed onto her cheek from laying on the sheets, deciding he'd already made his point and there was no need to embarrass her further. Even if it was a bit charming.
"Don't say that name," she scowled, faking a gag. "I don't need to hear that name. I'm already losing my appetite as it is. I don't need to hear that gross name."
Rex chuckled, clearing off the table—much to her disdain—and pulling out her chair before taking a seat for himself. "The cause can miss you for one day, Ahsoka. Everyone will get along fine."
"But it can't miss Ashla," she argued, sitting down anyway.
"Good thing you're not her," he hummed, taking a deep sip. He paused, thoughtful, then added, "just take the rest of the day to be your true self, who you really are. And that's not Ashla the Mechanic."
"Commander Tano is dead, Rex," she murmured. A bitter resentment flickered in her tone, brief but unmissable. "Just like everyone else."
She stared down at her murky reflection in the swirling, dark caf in her hands. It was an image she didn't like to see.
"Just Ahsoka, then."
She looked up at him in surprise. His expression was gentle and his gaze full of tenderness, sincerity. Of a kind of care that she found hard to find in the galaxy these days. A care that made her feel curled up and safe.
She tried to think about what that meant, her name: in the past and the present and the future. The child on Shili who could move beetles and pebbles with her mind. The youngling in the Temple who advanced far too quickly for her age. The padawan of Anakin Skywalker who had a smart-mouth and an attitude chock-full of sass that put her Master's to the test. The Jedi who had been tried and found guilty for the Temple bombing, then released at the last second, only to throw her life away and leave.
Who gave up when things got too hard. Who walked away from the Order. Who would never be a Jedi Knight.
But was that still her? Had she lost Ahsoka Tano, LadyTano? What was she left with?
Rex gazed at her, patient and knowing and willing. He emanated warmth and understanding. And when their eyes met, she knew he'd already given her the answer.
"Just Ahsoka?" she breathed out, and the question felt like a desperate plea.
He nodded slowly, cocking his head a little to the side, the corners of his mouth crooking up in a small, fond smile. "Just Ahsoka."
With surprisingly less effort than she thought it would take, Ahsoka gave in.
Rex reached across the table and took her hand in his. He gave it a squeeze.
Heartbeat tingling, she smiled in return.