Chapter 11: The Spark

18 BBY- 1 Year after the Rise of the Empire

In the days following Ahsoka's well-deserved day off, things began to speed up quickly. Very quickly. At least, much more quickly than Rex and Ahsoka had originally expected.

But they were continuing to find out that Raada, with her small-town, toothy-grinned farmers, was full of surprises.

Everyone became involved; everyone had a helping hand in the cause one way or another. Some saved up ration packs, others brought weapons, and others donated credits for more weapons. Everyone did something and no one was left out. A 'team effort', as Kolvin would put it.

In terms of the caves, only Ahsoka, Rex, and occasionally Vartan or another more trusted member of the group would go there. They still wanted to keep it on the low-down and a mass movement of farmers to the hills outside town wouldn't do well for any of that.

The two of them had been very busy. Too busy. The effort had only tripled the amount of weapons, tools, and other things they had to repair or upgrade, and between working their "normal" job as mechanics, they were still getting on setting up the refuge in the caves and trying to figure out the fine details of the cause.

Every Friday night, the crew would meet for their regular dinner and a game a crokin at the cantina, but as soon as the last round had been played, they'd say their goodbyes and disperse. Precisely one hour later, under the cover of deep night, they would meet again at Kolvin's house, along with some other townspeople, and discuss the plan and how to move forward.

Ahsoka and Rex would be there the whole night, always the first to arrive and the last to leave, talking to every person who wanted to get involved and trying to figure out how.

They would make charts and take inventory of their resources and a table that listed whether they would be stored in the caves or elsewhere. They would bend over the map spread out on Kolvin's mother's dinged-up dining table, marking the positions of the troops keeping guard and the routes of their movement from place to place. They would discuss what strategies would be best to use against the Imperials, like should they make it gradual, unnoticeable at first? Or should they come out with guns blazing? Or should they protest peacefully first, make a list of demands?

"That's absurd," Ahsoka had said immediately.

Chenna, the pacifistic creator of the idea, staunchly stood her ground in reply. "Why?"

"The Empire won't bother with 'demands'. They'll opt for using their blasters instead," Rex had answered first, echoing her thoughts.

"Which is why we should come at them with full force in the first place!" Kolvin threw in, seizing the opportunity.

Ahsoka pinched the bridge of her nose while Vartan, Chenna, and Rex gave him shriveling glares.

"They're worse than a shiny in bleach-white armor," Rex had grumbled to her under his breath. She gave him a sympathetic pat on the knee.

As the nights drew on, they would grow exhausted, knowing full well there was still much to do. Rex would hover a bit closer to Ahsoka. He'd linger beside or behind her, always standing with her, sometimes speaking with her and the townspeople, other times carrying the conversation for her. It was his way of telling her he'd be her shield, if she needed it.

And she found that, far too often, she did.

He'd keep his shoulder brushing against hers and his forearm against her elbow, or he'd place a subtle hand on the small of her back and keep his thumb feather-light against the base of her spine. He was always near her, as if he needed reassurance that she was still there. As if he would've been lost without touching her.

It was as though they could muster up whatever little strength they had left from each other's presence. It felt like the energy seeped between them like cold morning dew on thin twine where they touched.

Ahsoka had finally found a way to move the abundance of resources gathered by the townspeople to the caves. Once again, she had underestimated the eagerness and capabilities of the people of Raada, and the next morning, they showed up at her door with a tugging speeder with a cart attached.

"It's perfect," Ahsoka had said, and she was right. The cart was large enough to shorten the number of trips she needed to make by a half but small enough that it didn't stand out too much.

"Oh yah, ole' Beth is a rickety gal, but a fast one ta be sure," said one farmer.

"'Beth'?" Rex had asked.

"The tuggin' speeder," the farmer explained. His tone was puzzled, indicating it was an obvious fact, that Rex merely should've been paying more attention and was being dull for asking.

"We usually use'er ta carry out the barrels of seed right after the harvest," said another. "She's good fer that type uh' stuff."

"Ole' Beth will take care a ya good, Ashla. Dontcha worry."

And they had been right. 'Beth' took care of them just fine. She did a perfectly good job of tugging the supplies to and from the shop and the caves, only almost breaking down three times. But with a quick kick of Rex's steel-toed boot, she was up and running again without any issues.

That problem had been solved. Now, however, Ahsoka had to figure out the next one.

…Which would be the storm trooper currently questioning her, Beth, and their route across the farming fields.

"Ma'am, no farmer is allowed to go out past the farmlands during working hours," the trooper declared, approaching her and coming to a halt.

"Well, I'm not a farmer," she objected, crossing her arms. He must've seen her passing from his post on the edge of the farmlands. She forced down the lick of panic that went shooting into her throat.

"Then let me correct myself," he countered. "No one is allowed past the farmlands during work hours. Besides, if you're not a farmer, what are you doing out here, anyway?"

Ahsoka scrutinized the trooper, trying to squint past the black shield over his eyes. His white armor was covered in dust but didn't have any dings or dents.

He was a rookie. She could work with that.

"I'm surveilling the land for parts," she said casually, putting on her most convincing face. "I'm a mechanic, you see, and I was told there used to be an old junkyard out here, somewhere."

"I don't know of any junkyard."

"Well, you're new here, aren't you?"

The trooper made a hrumph noise under his helmet but let her continue.

"Since you all came in here and started limiting imports and whatnot, I've had a lot less to work with," she went on, shaking her head meaningfully. "And if I have no parts, I can't fix the farmer's tools. And with no tools, the farmers can't farm." She threw her arms up in a shrug, palms outward. "See what I'm dealing with here? Believe me, if I had an option other than wandering around the planet picking up rusted scraps, I'd take it in a fynock's heartbeat."

The trooper stayed quiet, no doubt considering her argument and battling between taking her word for it or following protocol. He strained to look past Ahsoka at the speeder.

"What's in the tugging cart?"

Ahsoka stayed rigid, using her body to deny him visual. She gave him a blank look. "I'm sorry, the what?"

"The cart. What's in it?"

"Oh. Oh, you mean Beth."

"Beth," he deadpanned.

"The name of the tugging cart. Obviously."

The trooper didn't budge. He still held his standard-issue blaster rifle tight in his hands. And he still wasn't taking her word for it.

"I'm just going to inspect the cart. If all is fine, you can be on your way," he said, using an armored shoulder to push past her. His free hand started to reach for the tarp draped over the seriously-illegal amount of weapons and ration packs in the cart.

"Wait!" Ahsoka blurted, throwing herself between the trooper and the cart. She heard the plastoid around his gloves clench as he tightened the grip on his blaster.

"Move aside, ma'am. I need to—"

"You will leave me be and return to your post."

She waved a hand across his face and kept her voice even, weighted with the tug of the Force behind her words. The panic was really starting to prick under her skin now.

The trooper stopped, muddled.

"I… will let you be and… return to my post," he repeated, voice in a daze.

Ahsoka held back a burning sigh of relief as the trooper's posture slackened slightly. She raised her hand once more. "And you will leave this encounter out of your reports."

"And I will leave this encounter out of my reports," he echoed, a bit more firmly this time. Then he turned around and stalked off like a droid, back towards his post.

Ahsoka waited until he was much farther away before climbing back on her speeder and twisting the key in the ignition. She had to stop to let out a shaky breath before stepping on the gas. The adrenaline of using the Force and the terror of almost losing it all in one slip up surged through her. She stared very hard at the caves ahead to stop herself from getting lightheaded.

She was fine. She was alright. The trooper was gone, and she was safe. The cause had not been found out.

When she got to the caves, Vartan was already there with Hestu, the Bothan owner of the general store who had also gotten involved. The two of them—similar in age, although Hestu was a bit more plump—were busy hammering shelves into the stone walls of the cavern to store the ration packs, and by the look of it, they'd already finished installing racks for the weapons she'd just brought.

"Good day," Vartan grunted, swinging the hammer down on the shelf that Hestu was holding in place. "Got more goods?"

"Of course," Ahsoka nodded, taking the tarp off the cart and starting to unload it. "The crew not working today?"

"They are, they are. Kolvin's just leading them for the rest of the shift. Decided I'd better come up here for the last half of the day and help Hestu out."

"Kolvin, huh?" she joked, "I'm sure Banji is thrilled about that."

Vartan only sighed while Hestu let out a jolly chuckle.

Ahsoka debated whether or not to tell him about the storm trooper incident.

It probably couldn't hurt, as long as she left out the whole Jedi mind-trick part.

Vartan nodded slowly as she spoke, pinching his beard between his thumb and forefinger in a way that was a little too much like Master Kenobi for Ahsoka's liking.

"I see," he said when she finished, pensive. "We must be careful, then. Perhaps we should only come to the caves at night."

"That could be a possibility," she agreed, setting down a box of ration packs next to the shelves.

"But wouldn't it be more suspicious if we went out to the fields at night?" Hestu put in. "If we got caught, there'd be no believable excuse to tell to get out of that pickle."

Ahsoka wanted to argue that there was no believable excuse at any time of day, but as far as they knew, her little lie about collecting spare parts from a nearby junkyard had passed, so she kept her mouth shut on that.

"That's true," Vartan conceded, "but it seems as though it may be the best option we have. No one ever said that insurgency was easy."

A huff of agreement escaped Ahsoka's lips as she listened, still unloading the crates. "I'll talk about it with Rex when I get back. He'll probably agree that nighttime would be best. We probably should have been doing it then at the start."

Together, the three of them unloaded the rest of the cart, which surprisingly was able to fit down the narrow passages of the cave, and organized them on the newly-built racks and shelves. When they were finished, Ahsoka stood with her hands on her hips and took in her surroundings.

"It's coming together," she murmured. Hestu and Vartan grunted and puffed their agreement.

They left the caves, and when they reached the entrance, Hestu got on his speeder and waved before heading out. Ahsoka made sure the cart was still hitched securely to Beth before climbing on and preparing to leave.

"Ashla," Vartan said as she mounted, "my wife is having the crew over for dinner tonight, after sun-down. We wanted to invite you and Rex. If you want to come."

"Oh," Ahsoka started, caught off guard. She thought of the enormous stacks of tools and the gargantuan array of droids that still needed to be fixed. Dinner was a no-can-do. But she could at least still be polite. "We'll uh, we'll try to make it."

"Good, good," he hummed. "My wife loves to cook, and she loves to cook for others even more. She'll be very pleased."

Great, Ahsoka thought. Now they had to go. She couldn't disappoint a sweet old lady. That would just be mean.

"Kolvin, Hestu, and the girls will be there, as well," he told her, starting to walk down and away from her and the caves. "We look forward to having you."

"Do you need a ride?" Ahsoka called after him.

The older man just waved her off, not bothering to turn around. "I enjoy the stroll."

"If you say so," Ahsoka shrugged. Then she knocked back the kickstand and was off, silently contemplating how to face the third problem of her day: convincing Rex to go to dinner.

Vartan's wife, a busty Nautolan named Luda, was indeed one of the most sweet, soft-hearted older ladies that Ahsoka had ever met, which was exactly what she expected from someone married to the wise and stoic Vartan.

She also had what Rex liked to call "suffocating hospitality". Her excruciatingly tight hugs were insufferable and her affectionate cheek-pinches even more so. The largest feature of their humble home was the dining room table, with more seats available than she would ever have guests, though Ahsoka was sure Luda would stuff the entire town of Raada into the house if she could.

"This is… pleasant," Rex said slowly, a few minutes after he and Ahsoka had walked in. They'd already been greeted by a very rambunctious Banji and a big, smothering hug from Luda, who had basically already claimed Rex and Ahsoka her own children, just like the rest of the crew.

"Oh, you two dears have just done so much for our little crew," she said dotingly, leaning back from the hug, numerous purple headtails draped heavily over her shoulders, but still keeping her arms around Ahsoka. Then she went in to give Rex and equally large embrace. Ahsoka had to bite back a laugh when he spluttered for air and went redder than Dooku's lightsaber at sunset.

"My Vartan has told me all about you two. I'm just so glad you could make it for dinner," she cooed, releasing Rex and pinching his cheek as he struggled to catch his breath. Ahsoka couldn't stop a full-blown grin this time. "I hope you're hungry, 'cause I've made my special spicy kod'yok meatballs and homemade Anselm sauce," she paused, pursing her lips, "though, I sorta had to substitute the kod'yok meat with chicken since we don't get that stuff anymore, but never mind that. It's all in the sauce, so it'll taste the same It was my great-great-great grandmother's aunt's cousin's mother's recipe, and everyone who tries it just can't get enough!"

They mingled for a bit, talking with everyone and trying to have a pleasant time, for once not talking about the caves and the cause. Kolvin and Chenna chatted about the day's work in the fields and in the shop. Vartan and Hestu held each other in sturdy conversation. Hedala and Banji played with the old toys that Luda had kept in a box just for the girls.

"I never had any children of my own," Luda had explained when she noticed Ahsoka watching the girls, "so these sweet little angels became my own. Aren't they just the cutest?"

Ahsoka nodded, smiling slightly. They watched as Banji plopped down on her knees next to Hedala and started to help her set up a bunch of ragdolls and wooden playthings. With an adoring sigh, Luda went back to the kitchen to finish prepping the meal, leaving Ahsoka with Rex.

Hestu appeared suddenly next to them, shoved a tankard into Rex's hands, and winked. He slapped Rex hard on the back once before walking away with a merry laugh.

"You sure you're old enough to drink that?" Ahsoka snickered into his ear, leaning her shoulder into his chest.

"Oh, quiet," he muttered, going in for a sip. They both knew he'd been to 79's with the boys plenty enough, even if just as the responsible half-sober parent, so it surprised Ahsoka when he choked on the drink and recoiled.

"What is this stuff?" he spluttered, peering into the tankard. Ahsoka strained too look at it in the warm house light.

"Only Raada's finest moonshine!" Hestu answered gleefully from across the room, scratching his long beard of fur. "Distilled by my very own hands on this precious little moon."

"No wonder it looks like kriffing pond water," Rex muttered, grimacing. He shrugged and went for another sip anyway, fighting back a cringe.

Ahsoka snorted and lightly flicked his ear. It earned her another eyeroll even as he tried to suppress another cough.

"Alright, kids. Dinner is served! Grab your seats and get ready to have some of the best food you've ever tasted in your life!" Luda called from the kitchen. She came in carrying a platter with one hand and salad tongs with the other. Vartan followed behind her, holding a large bowl and his drink, setting it all down on the table.

"Dig in, everyone!" Luda ordered once everyone was seated. They were all gawking at the food on the table. There was a bentu salad mixed with crispy flounuts and sautéed creos-vegetables, the platter of still-sizzling spicy "kod'yok" meatballs with patuu rice, and a small tin soup tureen filled with the proclaimed-famous traditional Anselm sauce. The aroma of the food wafted across the room, making Ahsoka's stomach rumble with excitement. She hoped no one else had heard it.

"This looks amazing, Luda!" Chenna complimented, laying her napkin neatly on her lap.

Banji nodded in a daze next to her, nearly drooling. "And smells amazing, too…"

Vartan chuckled, taking his wife's hand and squeezing it as he took his seat next to her at the head of the table. "Yes, you really have outdone yourself once again, my dear."

Ahsoka smiled at the little affectionate interaction. It was a rare sight to see, no less from the old man. She only wished there was more time for it these days.

"Oh, you all are too sweet for your own good," Luda gushed, purple cheeks blooming violet at the compliments. "Now, there better not be any left! I expect you all to eat every last bite."

"There won't be a problem with that, missus!" Hestu reassured her, eagerly moving to start dishing out the food. Everyone's eyes lit up with excitement. Even Rex's, which Ahsoka had to admit was impressive.

Hestu started to dish out the vegetables while Vartan passed around the meatballs. Rex took on the duty of rice distribution, all in precise, even spoonfuls (save for Hedala, whom he gave a half a spoonful), while Luda went around pouring on ludicrous amounts of Anselm sauce.

"You guys will never guess what happened out in the fields today," Banji started after they'd all started eating, munching on a meatball.

"Oh, don't you start," Kolvin warned.

Banji ignored him, mischief twinkling in her dark eyes. "Kolvin did the dumbest thing today. Okay, so like, you know how when you first turn on the thresher, you have to pull back the cord and hold it for a few minutes before using it, to let it warm up?"

Everyone at the table nodded except Rex, Ahsoka, and Hedala. Kolvin just glared.

"Banji, I swear…" he growled.

"Right?" she went on, "it's common knowledge. Well anyway, Mister 'Experienced Adult' over here—" she nudged the Rodian, "—decided that he and his thresher were just fine for whacking from the get-go. Of course, that didn't work out."

"What did that do?" Hestu asked as Chenna politely hid a laugh behind her hand. Even Vartan was smirking a little.

Banji grinned. Her words were measured with a saucy, practiced inflection that said she'd already repeated the story many times over. "The second the blade hit the wheat, the engine backfired, rumbled louder than a hungry bantha, and exploded in his face!" She threw her hands out in a big wave for emphasis. "When we looked over, Kolvin was on the ground, covered from skull-spine to toe in droid oil!"

The table filled with laughter. Banji sat upright and proud, satisfied with the success of her story. Kolvin covered his face in his hands.

"It wasn't my fault!" he pressed, looking desperate. "I just…forgot, is all!"

"How do you forget to do something you've done every day since you were ten?" Banji cackled.

Kolvin lowered his voice to a fed-up mutter. He dragged his hands over his face. "Oh, everyone's a critic."

Banji ignored him. "Anyway, he was such a mess that it looked like he'd changed from blue to black. Everything he touched got oil on it! It was even in his nostrils! And he had to go all the way back to his house to clean up before coming back to the field to work. He left sad, sticky footprints the whole way home."

The laughter continued. Even Ahsoka found herself smiling at the sad predicament.

"That's tough, kid," Rex said sympathetically, though he was chuckling, too.

"It's not like Banji doesn't ever mess up sometimes," Kolvin mumbled, stabbing a piece of lettuce with his fork and shoving it in his mouth.

"Now, don't you go dinging up my silverware," Luda scolded.

Vartan raised an interjecting hand. "Actually, Banji's got a pretty straight record, as far as I'm concerned," he countered lightly. "You, on the other hand…"

The laughter started up again, this time fading slowly. The food was nearly gone, exactly as Luda had asked. Ahsoka felt full to the brim, but there was still a meatball and a half left on her plate, drizzled in the deliciously savory Anselm sauce. She didn't have to ask Rex to covertly pick them off her plate with his fork and eat them for her.

"What about you, Rex?" Chenna went on after a while. "Don't you or Rex have any funny stories?"

Ahsoka stared at her blankly.

"Yeah, tell us a good tale," Kolvin said, eager to shift the attention off himself.

"We don't really—" Rex started, but Banji cut him off.

"Yes you do," she snorted. "You've travelled the whole galaxy fixing ships and stuff! You guys gotta know something funny.

Ahsoka shook her head. She stared listlessly at her plate and scooted a couple grains of rice around with her fork.

"There, uh, there really isn't anything…" Rex fumbled.

"Maybe you two were just too boring to do anything fun," Banji sniffed. "Lame old farts."
"Banji!" Chenna scolded. She reached to pick a piece of rice out of her dark curls.

Banji hissed and recoiled, then looked back at Rex and Ahsoka.

"Bak-bak-bak…"

"Wow, endor-hen noises, very mature," Kolvin huffed, but his eyes glittered with amusement.

Ahsoka opened her mouth to tell her that yes, they were just two lame old farts, and sure, they were too chicken to spill, but didn't have a chance before Rex opened his damn mouth.

"Well… there was this one time…"

"Oooh, tell us!" Banji said excitedly, insults forgotten, pleased with her results. Hedala bounced in her seat next to her. Around the table, faces lit up in interest. Even Vartan's, though his were laced with a deeper hint of curiosity.

"I um, I was doing my rounds, once, and—"

"What rounds?" Banji cut in.

"Rounds… around our shop. When we were living on… a different planet. A ship, actually."

"You lived on a ship?" Chenna asked in wonderment.

"For a bit," Rex said.

Ahsoka raised a brow.

"So then… there was this one time, when I was doing my rounds on our shi-shop, uh, that I couldn't find Ashla. And we'd recently gotten in a new shipment of helmets, so I went to check the storage room, and—"

"Helmets? What for?" Kolvin interrupted.

"We were… selling them," he answered rather unconvincingly. "Fixing them and selling them."

Ahsoka immediately knew where this was going.

New Phase II helmets, unpainted, just in on the Resolute. A dare from Fives. Doubt from Tup, pressure from Jesse. A pleading to not try it from Dogma. Then a promise from Fives that she could have his dessert at chow for the next two rotations, if she was clone enough to do it.

"Rex—" she started, heat shooting to her face—

"Anyway, so I checked the storage room, and lo and behold, there was—"

"Rex!"

"The comman—Ashla, sitting cross-legged on the floor, with a bucket stuck over her head. And Fives was there, absolutely panicking—"
"Where'd the bucket come from?" Chenna asked.

Kolvin nodded. "And five of what?"

At the corner of the table, a deflated Hedala pouted. "You're bad at telling stories."

"Fives was a friend," Ahsoka cut in, giving Rex a heated glare, "and the helmet was not stuck on my head, I was just—"

"It was completely stuck on her head. Her headtails were jammed in there, she couldn't see, and she was yelling at Fives to get it off before I showed up—"

"It wasn't stuck, it was just… tight!"

"No, no. It was definitely stuck, because then, yours truly had to be the one to take a pair of vibrocutters to the plastoid! And I was terrified that—"

"You were terrified?" Ahsoka scoffed, ignoring the ripple of growing chuckles around the table, "I thought my montrals were gonna get sawed off!"
"And I was the one doing the cutting. Imagine the wrath I would've had to face, from both you and from the Gen—"
He stopped short as laughter burst out around the table. The loudest came from Banji and Kolvin, the jolliest from Hestu.

"So, you kids can have fun," Hestu joked, eyes crinkling.

"Wait, hold on," Kolvin said. "So, you got a helmet stuck on your head? Did you ever get it off?"

"Clearly," Chenna sighed.

"Not without a battle scar," Ahsoka muttered.

"A scar?" Rex scoffed. "Please. I didn't even nick you!"

Ahsoka scowled back at him.

"Alright, Rexter. So maybe your stories aren't too bad," Banji snickered, leaning forward in her chair. "That one was pretty good, if poorly told. Tell us another!"

"Oh no, that's enough for tonight," Luda broke in, still laughing lightly. "You kids have to get home soon to catch your z's, and I still need help cleaning up."

Ahsoka let out a breath of relief, setting down her utensils and letting her face sink into her hands.

Rex chuckled to himself as he took another sip of his moonshine.

With another brooding glower, Ahsoka kicked his shin with her heel. He winced, but kept his smirk concealed in his tankard.

Ahsoka decided they would need to have a chat later.

"The meal really was delicious, Luda, thank you," Chenna said politely, wiping the corners of her mouth with her napkin when she finished.

Kolvin shoved the last three meatballs in his mouth at the same time and nodded eagerly. "Yeah, itsh great, the besht shtuff ever," he said around a mouthful of meatball. He swallowed with some difficulty and leaned back in the chair, placing his hands on his belly. "I'm stuffed. Where'd you even manage to get the stuff to make it, anyway? My mother's been looking for flounuts to pop up at Hestu's store for weeks now."

"Oh, well, you know," Luda hesitated, "you can… find them here and there, if you look hard enough."

Chenna gave her a confused look. Hestu coughed awkwardly and shoveled another forkful of lettuce into his mouth to hide it.

Ah-ha, Ahsoka realized. So the black market had made its way here. Her predictions had been correct, as usual.

It wasn't necessarily a pleasant thought.

Keen to put an end to the awkward silence, Vartan rose from his seat and started to collect the empty plates. "I'm starting the dishes," he stated. "I'll wash, and I need someone to dry. And could someone wet a rag and wipe down the table? I'm afraid little Hedala spilled some of the sauce."

Immediately, everyone rose out of their seat to help, but Rex and Chenna were quickest. Rex picked up the empty salad bowl and platter and followed Vartan into the kitchen while Chenna went to find a rag. Ahsoka resigned to helping Luda and Kolvin tuck in the chairs and straighten the rug, needing to feel useful somehow.

Seeing as the adults had it covered, Banji and Hedala scampered back to the box of toys to finish setting up the made-up tea party.

Ahsoka stayed quiet, feeling exhaustion lull at the back of her head. It had been a lot of social interaction for one day. Too much, by her standards. And lately, she'd noticed, those standards were ever slipping.

She could hear Rex and Vartan talking in the kitchen, words muted by the sound of running water and clinking plates. Chenna hummed quietly to herself as she wiped down the table, using her nail to scratch at a particularly difficult spot of dried sauce. Luda, seeing that her house was being well taken care of, disappeared around the corner to find her broom.

Ahsoka felt a little useless just standing around. She heard giggles from Hedala and Banji and decided that watching the girls was more helpful than nothing.

"Oh, hey Ashla," Banji said lightly as Ahsoka settled down on the floor next to them. "Wanna help me and Hedala set up the tea party?"

"Sure," Ahsoka answered, subconsciously crossing her knees into the lotus position. "What kind of tea party is it?"

"A pirate tea party," Hedala replied dutifully, adjusting the way a tattered ragdoll was sitting. "For pirates."

"Oh," Ahsoka said, "I see."

She didn't. It was hard to understand children. She hadn't been a normal child, though, so that didn't really help the issue.

Banji leaned over to Ahsoka. "She thinks pirates are good guys," she explained matter-of-factly, trying to put on the air of a grownup. "I only play along because it makes her happy, not because I actually like playing tea party."

"Of course," Ahsoka reassured her. "I never doubted otherwise."

"Banji, please pass Lady Sparkleface to me. And Ashla, you have to help Mr. Beantoe sit up! He's slouching over," Hedala instructed, pointing to the plaything out of her reach.

Ahsoka glanced at it. 'Mr. Beantoe' was just a tied-off sock filled with dry beans. And she wasn't entirely sure what a sock's 'proper posture' would look like.

"Maybe he wants to slouch over," Banji said. "He is a pirate, after all."

"No, no," Hedala huffed disdainfully, "everyone sits proper at a tea party. Even pirates. It's polite." Frowning, she flicked her wrist, and the sock slumped to the right.

She flicked her wrist, and the sock slumped to the right.

Ahsoka went cold.

Rigid, icy horror trickled into her chest. It dripped, splashed, and flared, scraping up against the inside of her ribs.

"He still looks like he's hunched over," Banji said. "Same with the wooden doll near you."

She had flicked her wrist, and the sock had moved.

"Nuh-uh," Hedala said tartly. "That's just how she looks. Anyway, their party is gonna start soon, so we have to make the tea!"

Ahsoka couldn't move. Couldn't breathe, couldn't feel. Couldn't think, at least, couldn't think straight. Her breathing grew shaky and she couldn't tear her eyes from the same spot where she'd seen the sock move.

"What are we gonna use to make the tea?" Banji asked, shaking her head.

"Our imaginations, silly."

This was not right. This was so wrong, this was so very, very wrong, so dangerous—

Ahsoka couldn't do this. Not right now. She needed to get out, breathe, breathe air. Air. She needed air.

Wordlessly, she got to her feet, and swiftly moved for the door.

"But Ashla," she heard Banji call after her, "the tea party hasn't started yet!"

But she was already halfway there, fingers coiled around the brass door handle, twisting it open. She hastily stepped outside and shut it behind her.

Outside, in the cold night, the air felt silent, even if just for a moment. The space was blessedly open, and Ahsoka clutched at her stomach with a hand. She leaned her back against the wall of the house and slid to the ground, too dizzy to stand upright. Pressing a palm against her forehead, she screwed her eyes shut and focused on breathing.

Hedala.

Hedala was Force-sensitive.

This—this could… what—what if… what if she—

Ahsoka forced herself to draw in another shuddering breath, blinking up at the stars and hugging herself. Her blood still felt like ice under her skin and her heart was still pounding incessantly in her chest.

There was only one way to be sure it hadn't just been her eyes, or a trick of the light.

Tentatively, she closed her eyes and reached out.

The Force melted at her unseen touch and the air around her seemed to still. Gradually, the Force signatures of those in the house became discernable, living. She felt first the warm, safe, and solid aura of Rex, reminiscent of wet stone, ever-present and always tethered to hers. Then the cool, lavender and sage aura of Chenna, followed the blunt, bouncy cinnamon-and-spice aura of Banji. Ahsoka moved past them and the others gently, searching for one.

It did not take long.

Dimly, in the dark, her aura flickered. It sparked, standing out amongst the others, clear and bright and growing.

The spark of the Force.

Just as quickly as Ahsoka had reached out, she drew it back, breathing in sharply. Her eyes flared open, and she became aware and in tune once more with her surroundings.

The chirping of crickets. The dim white streetlight. The wind of the night. The muffled voices from inside the house.

How had she not felt it before? How had she not noticed? How had this slipped by her, not even with the faintest realization?

She couldn't risk Hedala sensing her, sensing another Force wielder, on the small, little moon of Raada. She couldn't risk letting her know that her abilities were unnatural, unique, made for better things than farming. She couldn't risk her exposure. She could not risk her life.

Hedala.

Hedala was Force-sensitive.

Warmhearted, jovial laughter sounded from inside the home she rested against, dampened and muddled behind its wooden door and duracrete walls.

Ahsoka was still finding it hard to breathe normally and forced her lungs to inhale and exhale at a steady pace. Breathe in, breathe out, pacing with the crickets. Over and over again.

She did this until her hands had stopped trembling and her heartbeat matched the rhythm of her lungs. It felt like hours.

Next to her, the door suddenly swung open, spilling warm, yellow light into the night-drenched street around her. Ahsoka flinched back, startled, and squinted up to see Rex silhouetted against the doorframe.

"Are you alright?" he asked, one hand still on the door. "Is something wrong?"

Ahsoka steadily rose to her feet, dusting the dirt off her trousers. "…No, I'm alright," she answered, slowly, meeting his eyes. "For now."

He gave her a questioning look.

"I'll explain later," she murmured quietly. "When we get home. Just not here." She fought off the uneasy feeling that threatened to settle over her.

Rex nodded in understanding, leaning a bit on the door with his arm above his head. His voice turned to a low whisper. "Was it the sauce?"

Ahsoka blinked her confusion.

"The sauce," he said again. He glanced back in the house as though to make sure no one heard him, then leaned in closer to Ahsoka. He pressed his palm gently against her collarbone and held it there, sending a tingling shiver rippling across her skin. His fingers curled into her shoulder.

"I think it's kind of messing with my stomach," he whispered, his breath caressing her cheek, "same with Kolvin and Hestu. You, too?"

The scent of moonshine, crisp and pungent, drifted in the air between them.

Ahsoka stared back at him blankly. She noticed for the first time the hint of rose the buzz had brought to his cheeks and the way his pupils were slightly dilated.

"No, Rex," she said eventually, "…not the sauce."

"Oh," he coughed awkwardly. He withdrew his hand, and Ahsoka had to swallow her disappointment as it took the warmth of his touch with it. He scratched the back of his head as the rose took on a deeper shade of crimson. "Uh, right. Never mind, then."

He stepped back, holding the door open for her. Ahsoka felt the heat of his gaze trailing her as she walked past him and back into the house. She sighed through her nose.

"And I didn't get the bucket stuck over my head."

Rex cleared his throat again. "…Right. We'll talk at home."

Me? Writing several chapters and forgetting to update? Never!

Yes, always. I always do that.

Anyway, I actually wrote ½ of this and then lost it to The Microsoft Abyss, so it took a bit of digging, but I eventually dragged the corrupted file out of its dark hidey-hole a week later and scrubbed it clean before finishing it off.

I'm finishing ch. 17 up currently, just to let you all know where I'm at, but I try to give things a once-over when I post, which I try to do once a week, at least.

Anywhoo, hope you're all enjoying. I'm loving your comments and kudos, so, thanks again.

Bucket-head-getting-stuck thing inspired by a briefly mentioned sentence in countessofbiscuit 's "At Ease" on Ao3.