Chapter 13: The Hope
18 BBY- 1 Year after the Rise of the Empire
With a well-trained deftness, Ahsoka placed the acid mines in the crevice between the shoulder hydraulics and the durasteel plate of the AT-RT walkers. She balanced effortlessly on one leg, foot wedged between a cleft in the mechanics, the other wrapped around it for stability while she worked.
Below her, Rex clung to the lower knee of the walker, one hand hovering behind her in case she fell, which she wouldn't. Below him, Chenna stayed on the ground, keeping a lookout for any stormtroopers, fingers poised at her mouth to whistle a signal the moment she needed to.
"There," Ahsoka huffed, finally managing to lodge the mine in the crevice so it didn't budge.
"Did you get it?" Rex whispered below her.
"Of course I did. Did you doubt me?"
"Not for a second."
She tapped the button on the charge. It flickered, then went red. They were flimsy and a bit questionable in quality, but Hestu had assured her it was the best on the market. And she trusted him. Somewhat.
"Coming down."
Rex nodded and climbed down to the ground. When the way was clear, she jumped down, landing neatly on two feet and a palm beside him.
"Will it work?" Chenna asked, dark eyes hooded with worry.
"We'll find out tomorrow," Ahsoka answered tiredly. "C'mon. Let's get out of here."
The cause had been set into motion, its intricately-placed cogs beginning to grind. Slowly, very slowly, they were taking on the Empire.
They agitated them bit by bit, like a mosquito flying circles by their ear, buzzing and poking and prodding, but disappearing around the corner whenever they snapped their head around. Always present, never seen.
Tonight, Ahsoka, Rex, and Chenna put acid mines on the joints of the walkers. If it worked, the acid would melt the shoulder hydraulics, rendering them unusable and nearly unrepairable.
A couple nights before, Vartan and Rex had put electromagnetic charges under the eaves of the roof to the admin building. The charges activated, sent a jolt of electricity through the wires, and shorted the circuit breaker, causing a town-wide power outage that took the Imperials two full days to fix.
And a few nights before that, Ahsoka and Kolvin had cut the electric line in the barbed wire looped around the fence surrounding the Imperial's weapons storage. So far, it had seemed that the storm troopers had yet to notice, and until they did, all of their weapons were left vulnerable—to a looting, perhaps, in the very possible, foreseeable future.
"Will you be working in your shop tomorrow? Or at… the other place?" Chenna asked as they walked unassumingly down the street.
"Not sure yet," Rex replied, "but we'll probably be going in between them for a while. Lots of stuff to shift around, and the like."
Ahsoka stayed quiet, exhausted from the long days and longer nights. Knots the size of meilooruns in her neck and her back ached, sore from hours upon never-ending hours of being hunched over broken droids and tools. A dull headache throbbed at the base of her skull, and it was all she could do to keep her eyes from focusing and un-focusing on the dirt road below her.
The teetering street lamps casted long shadows in the dirt, much like the pillars in the Jedi temple at night. But this time, there were no emerald and pink flashes of light from signs in the distance, or red and blue glares reflected in the metal of the speeders and buildings of the cityscape beyond.
Instead, there was just darkness and stars, drifting endlessly above whispering grass pastures and placid farm fields.
Sometimes, Ahsoka wasn't sure which she liked better.
"Head on home now, Chenna. Get some rest," Rex said as they approached a crossroads, voice controlled but approving, as though he were praising a shiny after his first watch-standing. "Good work tonight."
"Thank you." She dipped her head politely. "And you two should get some sleep, as well." She glanced hesitantly at Ahsoka, then back at Rex. "You look like you need it."
"We will," Ahsoka assured her, lying with no qualms about it, "don't worry."
Satisfied, Chenna smiled, then turned and walked away, melting into the shadows.
"So polite, that one. Feels like she couldn't hurt a wompfly, yet she's planting acid mines on walkers," Rex noted as they headed towards their own house. "She basically told us we look like hell—you, in particular—but she still found a way to say it nicely."
"I'm sure Banji could've found a more uncouth way to put it, if that's what you wanted." She elbowed him weakly. "And you look worse with me. Don't talk banthashit."
"Mm-hm."
Finally, they reached their house. Both were ready to hit the rack as fast as possible. But as they got closer, peering through the dark, they stopped dead in their tracks.
The door was cracked.
"Did you leave it open?" Rex grunted. She felt him slowly reach for his blaster.
"No, did you?" she hissed back.
Again, her hand drifted subconsciously to her hip, and again, it found nothing. She swallowed the bitter resentment in her throat and moved on.
"Well, have we made any enemies lately?" she asked, turning to Rex.
Together, they took slow steps towards the door.
"If by enemies, you mean the entire kriffing Empire, then yes."
Another step. And another.
"On my count, we make our move. You kick it in, duck to the right. Take cover. I'll hold fire, but my blaster'll be at the ready," Rex instructed.
She nodded, then heard him click off the safety.
"One, two…"
They were just a few inches from the door, and Ahsoka tensed her muscles—
"Three!"
In a flying movement, she kicked out with her leg and struck the door, sending it slamming open. The impact coursed through her leg and up her middle, but she whirled around, ducking and rolling to the right of the room, exactly as discussed. Ahsoka landed, rigid, crouched with one palm on the floor and the other outstretched, ready to face whatever came at her. Less than a heartbeat later, Rex barged through the doorway, standing firm with arms raised and finger on the trigger.
"Ahh! What the hell?!"
Wait, Ahsoka knew that voice. That was—
Behind her, Rex flicked on the light.
"Kolvin?" the two of them said together, incredulous.
"Yeah, I'm Kolvin," the gangly Rodian retorted, squinting and raising a hand as he adjusted to the light. "What in the name of the gods was that about?"
"What was that about?" Rex repeated, angrily tucking his blaster away, "I think a better question would be 'what are you doing in our house'?"
"And hiding in the dark, to boot," Ahsoka muttered, standing up and stretching. She reached down to rub her ankle, and tisked. She kicked in her own door for nothing!
"Well, I was waiting for you guys to get back," Kolvin explained defensively. "Hestu wanted me to tell you about a new delivery he got."
Ahsoka arched a brow. "You couldn't have just… I dunno, left a note on the door or something?"
Kolvin snorted. "Sure, just for a storm trooper to walk by and find, then take back to his officer? No, thanks."
"Kid's got a point," Rex admitted wearily. He turned around and tried to close the door, but it wobbled and leaned unevenly against the doorframe. Two of its three hinges were dangling free and the third didn't look far behind.
It would need to be fixed. Tonight.
Ahsoka mentally groaned at the thought of just one more thing to do before she could finally get some sleep.
"Well, what was so important that you had to tell us personally?" Rex asked, giving up on the door, probably thinking the same as her, and letting his rucksack drop to the floor with a thud. He headed towards the caf machine.
Kolvin propped himself up so that he was half-sitting on their table. "Hestu told me he's getting in a big delivery tomorrow morning, right before daybreak."
"Daybreak?" Rex echoed, "that's in just a few hours!"
"Not my fault you took so long to get back here," Kolvin said. "How did the walker thing go, anyway?"
"Not important right now," Ahsoka said, waving a hand. "What's so important about this delivery?"
Kolvin rolled his eyes but obeyed anyway. "Hestu says that they're really, really heavy, and really, really illegal. So, Vartan's taking both me and Banji off the team tomorrow to help take them out to the caves. We're even gonna have to borrow another tugging cart from his neighbor."
"I'm assuming we're needed to help get it past the troopers and to the caves, as well?" Rex guessed.
Kolvin nodded. "Yeah, exactly. We already know the watch rotation of the troopers ever since Chenna and I took log of it, but depending on when the shipment arrives, we'll really only have about half an hour to get it from the shipyard and out past the fields before the troopers come out to said fields to stand watch."
"Half an hour?" Ahsoka scoffed, "if whatever this is is as heavy as you say it is, I'm not entirely sure that's possible."
"It'll have to be. Hestu and Vartan said as much. And honestly, with two tugging carts, we'll move twice as fast. It might not even be that hard."
Ahsoka hesitated a moment, casting a pensive glance at Rex, then turned back to Kolvin. He was right. It could be doable.
"Fine," she conceded. "Where are we meeting?"
"At the back end of the shipyard, right at dawn," he said matter-of-factly. He leaned back further on the table, crossing one lanky leg over the other, and looked around the room. His dark green eyes glanced curiously over the kitchenette, the shelves of broken tools and piles or broken droids and parts along the wall, the bunkbed in the back, the dusty window and the small door to the 'fresher. "Is this really where you guys live?"
Ahsoka frowned. "Uh… yes? Something wrong with it?"
Kolvin shrugged and shook his hand in a so-so gesture. "It's a little chaotic."
"Thank you," she heard Rex mutter to the caf machine.
"No, it isn't," Ahsoka retorted, shooting Rex a glare (even though he wasn't looking at her) and looking back at Kolvin. "It's perfectly fine."
The younger boy gave her an dubious look.
"Besides," she added huffily, "it's not like we've really had a bunch of time for cleaning around here, with everything going on."
Kolvin still looked unconvinced but moved on anyway. "That's a pretty cool blaster," he said to Rex. "Looks like an older DC-17 model from the war. Where'd you get it?"
"I, uh…" Rex stammered, not looking away from the caf machine as he poured in more grounds, "picked it up on our travels. It… used to have a matching one with it. But, uh… lost it."
"Damn," Kolvin said, shaking his head. "That sucks."
He stayed seated on the table, letting his legs swing back and forth a little, toes dragging on the floor.
"I don't mean to be rude, but," Ahsoka started, wholly intending to be rude, "are you going to leave anytime soon? We kinda have some stuff to do." She gestured with her head to the damaged entrance behind her. "And a door to fix."
"Yeah, yeah, sure," Kolvin said. "I just wanted to hear about the walkers. How that went."
"I'll tell you tomorrow."
"Fine," he yielded, then hesitated. "Can I use your 'fresher before I go?"
"…Sure."
Satisfied, Kolvin hopped off the table and headed to the back, stepping warily around a wobbling tower of helical gears stacked on the floor. He glanced out the window. "This is a pretty good view of the fields," he said. Then glanced towards the bunkbed and gave a quizzical look. "And you guys don't share a bed?"
Something that sounded like a cup of caf clattered to the floor as Rex's head shot up, red and steaming. "What—do we—no, you di'kut! We—" he spluttered, but Ahsoka, sienna skin more red than usual, cut him off.
"Just use the 'fresher, Kolvin," she said sharply, trying—and failing—to hide the flustered panic spiking in her voice behind a mask of mild annoyance.
Kolvin gave them a weird look. Then he shrugged, turned, and disappeared, closing the door behind him.
Breathing again, Ahsoka rubbed small circles on her forehead with her thumb and forefinger. She tried to ignore the simmering heat rising in her cheeks and her much-increased heartbeat hammering away against her ribcage.
Beside her, Rex bent to pick up the cup he'd dropped, nose and ears still piping red. He swore and muttered incoherently under his breath. "Stupid, stupid kid…"
The next morning, things went about as expected. Groggy and blinking away the couple hours of sleep they'd snatched, Ahsoka and Rex left their house and its newly-fixed door to meet the others at the shipyard.
Just as Kolvin had said, him, Vartan, and Banji were all waiting for them. As they approached, they noticed Hestu a little further back, deep in conversation with a Devaronian holding a data plan. The black market broker, Ahsoka guessed.
"Ah, there you two are," Vartan greeted. "I was beginning to worry you'd slept in."
"Never do," Rex said, maybe attempting to make a joke, but Ahsoka thought the truth of the statement was too depressing to be funny. She wasn't sure Rex was too good at jokes.
"Hestu's just finishing up. As soon as he's done, we're loading whatever it is onto these carts and heading out," Vartan explained, tossing his thumb over his shoulder at the conversation happening behind them.
"The guy got here early, so we've got more time than we thought we'd have," Kolvin said, grinning.
Ahsoka thought he looked like he had too much energy for as late as he had been up the past night, but she supposed youth did play a part in that.
Of course, that never seemed to be the case with herself, but her case didn't count.
"That's good," Rex said. "Hopefully, it'll be enough to make this easy."
And, to their luck, it was.
It went off without a hitch. When Hestu had closed the deal and the Devaronian had flown away on his rickety (and probably stolen) ship, they loaded up some impressively-heavy crates onto the tugging carts and drove them through and out of the town.
Ahsoka and Rex weren't too happy about so many people going to the caves at one time, but they had to make do. They split up and took two different routes, with Rex, Ahsoka, and Kolvin in one while Vartan, Banji, and Hestu took the other.
They passed seamlessly through the farm fields, not a storm trooper in sight. It was pretty amazing, actually.
Rex was frowning. "Sloppy," he muttered, so that only she could hear.
"I'm sure the boys would've done much better," she assured him, trying a lighthearted tease, but his frown only deepened.
Apparently, she wasn't very good at jokes, either.
Safely inside the caves, they unloaded the crates and lined them up against the wall of the cave. Ahsoka grunted as she held one of the crates down, bending down with Kolvin at the other end, setting it down on the ground. She pulled back her fingers just in time to avoid them from being flattened under the crate.
"Are you finally gonna tell us what's in these?" Vartan grumbled as he and Rex set down another one, glancing exasperatedly at Hestu.
"Sure, sure," the Bothan answered, scratching the fur on his neck. He winked. "Or you can just open 'em up and see for yourself."
"Don't need to ask me twice," Rex said. He grabbed a crowbar off of one of the shelves and pried open the first crate. The wooden lid creaked and came off with a pop.
Rex's eyes widened.
"Well?" Ahsoka prompted, "what is it?"
Rex chuckled, deep and honeyed. "Oh, baby…"
For a half a second, Ahsoka thought he was addressing her, and her jaw dropped while she coughed and spluttered for some sort of reply, but then he knelt down in front of the crate and reached inside. He pulled out a dark, heavy, blaster rifle. He was talking to the rifle, of course, the rifle. Obviously.
"A-280 blaster carbines," he whistled, turning the weapon over in his hands and scrutinizing it. "A more recent model, too."
Alright, Hestu, Ahsoka thought, regaining her sense of normalcy. That was… a pretty impressive find by the shopkeeper, she had to admit.
"Wow!" Banji gasped eagerly, reminding everyone she was still there. She fidgeted with excitement and bounded to Rex's side. "Let me see!"
"Not a chance," Rex said sternly, holding the blaster out of her reach. "Kids shouldn't have weapons."
Ironic, Ahsoka thought.
Banji scowled. "Where's the fun in that?"
Rex ignored her. He continued to look it over, ogling it with shining eyes and feather-light fingers like it was a newborn baby.
They popped open the other crates with ease, revealing a couple more blaster rifles, several explosive charges, and blast packs. Ahsoka held up a small, round charge in the dim light, inspecting it carefully. It seemed fairly well-made. Better than the other ones, anyway.
"Hestu, where'd you manage to find all this?" Vartan asked in bewilderment, echoing Ahsoka's thoughts.
"Well, with my recent involvements on the market, I'm starting to make some good connections," he laughed, placing his fists on his hips. "Sure did cost me a pretty dime, that's for sure."
"I bet," Ahsoka marveled, setting down the explosive charge and trying to count the lot of them. "How'd you manage?"
Hestu shuffled his feet on the dirt floor of the cave, drumming the tips of his fingers together. "Oh, you know… had to sell some stuff, here and there…" he trailed off. "…my uh, my distilling machine, for one…"
Vartan sat upright, staring at his friend. "You sold your distillery?" he repeated, shocked. "That machine was like your first-born child!"
"She sure was, heh. But it was all worth it—for the cause," Hestu admitted. Then he grinned, and offered a nonchalant shrug, and flung a wink at Rex. "Plus, I'm not sure anybody really liked my moonshine. I think people just fibbed to not hurt my feelings."
"It—it wasn't too bad," Rex put in awkwardly. But it was obvious he was lying through his teeth.
Ahsoka stifled a laugh and went back to sorting their newly acquired knickknacks.
It took them the entire morning and well into the afternoon to organize everything, make sure it was all working, and tuck it away safely amongst their other supplies in the cave. Rex was clearly having a field day with the new toys, eyeing each one with a twinkle and barely containing the grin that ghosted the corners of his mouth.
Banji had taken a particular interest in the explosives, much to Ahsoka's disdain. She handled them as gently as an endor-hen's freshly laid eggs, eyes as wide as saucers with her breath held in awe.
In Ahsoka's mind, young children should not get excited over bombs and blasters, over explosions and battles.
Banji shouldn't have to worry about such things. Not bombs, not secret caves, not war, and not the certain doom pushing in on her home. She shouldn't have to worry about anything except if her younger sister is getting taller than her, if her crops are growing right, or what Luda's making for dinner at the end of the day.
She shouldn't have to worry about death.
And maybe she didn't, Ahsoka thought. She didn't worry about death, or even fear it. And maybe that was just the issue.
But who was she to talk?
All I've been since I was a padawan is a soldier.
Her own voice sounded ages younger as it echoed in her head. It was so hard to believe that everything… all of… it—it was all a year ago.
With a start, she realized that Banji was the same age as she when she first walked off the Republic gunship to meet her new master.
Rex's voice, ever the same, steady, warm flow of comfort, drifted distantly.
Well, I've known no other way. Gives us clones all a mixed feeling about the war.
"Ashla," came a voice. A small, calloused hand tugged at her own, and Ahsoka blinked, looking down at Banji. Her blue eyes met innocent, excited brown ones, and she was reminded of Hedala.
"Where do you want to put the rest of the charges?" the younger girl asked, sparky as ever. Foam packing beans clung to her dark crown of curls, but she either didn't notice or didn't care. Probably the latter. "They don't fit in the makeshift bin with the others."
Ahsoka felt Rex watching her from where he knelt on the other side of the room re-stacking ration packs. She tried to shake off the embarrassed, tingly feeling it left on her back.
"Oh, uh, we'll just keep them in the crate they came in, for now. Just put the lid back on so they aren't exposed," she instructed. Banji nodded and whirled around to eagerly complete her task, packing beans drifting in her wake.
"I'm going to go look around outside, make sure we weren't followed," she explained quietly, mostly for Rex and Vartan to hear. But what she really wanted was fresh air. And to think.
She climbed out of the cave, following the rays of sunlight until she stood on the rocky outcropping, overlooking the fields beyond. The farmers looked like tiny ants in the distance, meandering through the rows of crops, swinging their sickles at the towering golden wheat.
It was harvest season.
And when the harvest was over, they would plant the first season of the Imperial crop. The nutrients would get sucked up from the ground, the soil would become dry, rocky, and poor, and then the fields would be ruined.
And the doom of Raada would never be more certain.
A sigh slipping unchecked past her lips, Ahsoka settled on the ground, assuming her well-practiced lotus position. She breathed in, tasting the scent of stone, of wheat, of earth, and sun. Her eyelids inherently fluttered close, and darkness enveloped her.
She felt herself melt into the Force.
But before she could fully sink into it, fully disappear, something disturbed her. A noise, a person, an intruder.
The sound of pebbles falling and footsteps on the ground made her snap back awake, back into reality.
"Vartan," she said, surprised, but composed. "Is there something I can do for you?"
The older man moved to sit on the ground next to her. He held his gaze to the fields, slate-grey eyes narrowed in the bright Raadan sun. He breathed evenly, but deeply, as if contemplating. Ahsoka waited with trained, but wary, patience.
"I know about Hedala."
Ahsoka sucked in a breath through her nose.
That was okay. That should be expected. Vartan had practically raised the girl, and he was no fool. It only made sense that he knew.
She looked at him steadily as she spoke. "Then you are aware of the danger she is in with regards to the Empire?"
Vartan did not answer.
Instead, he closed his eyes, and exhaled.
"And I know about you and Rex, as well."
Now, that was not expected.
"I—I'm sorry, I'm not sure what you—"
"I know you come from the war, Ashla," he said slowly. He opened his eyes and turned to look at her, overtly solemn. "I know that you are a Jedi, and he is a clone."
Ahsoka couldn't move. She felt cold. It was all she could do to stare back at him with wide, frightened eyes and whisper, "I am no Jedi."
Vartan waved a hand, as if shrugging off the sheer weight of the words he just spoke, of his accusation, and went on.
"Whether you were a Jedi in the past, or you are one now, it does not matter. I know that you are one with the Force, and that you are sensitive to its essence, much like Hedala. It is a gift that I do not envy you of. One that carries a weighted burden with it, especially in these dark times."
The sun glinted on his weathered skin, casting shadows in the hard lines of his face. It made him suddenly seem much older, and much wiser, reminiscent of an old Jedi master.
It made Ahsoka uneasy.
She tried to focus on staying calm, staying collected, but she could not shake the feeling of ice creeping over her skin and the tremble in her wrists as they sat uselessly in her lap. "How… how did you know?"
Vartan hummed, turning back to the fields. "You may no longer carry the traditions of a Jedi, dress in robes, or carry a lightsaber at your side, but you still carry their morals and values in your heart. It is written in you. It is in your bones, child," he spoke. "As for Rex… well, he is a soldier, through and through. You can see it in the way he moves, in the way he thinks." A low, gravelly chuckle escaped his dry lips. "You can take the man out of a war, but you cannot take the war out of a man."
A heavy, calloused hand landed gently on Ahsoka's shoulder, making her flinch. She was still scrambling to collect her thoughts, to breathe normally, to give him a normal, solid, adult reply, but it felt impossible.
She felt exposed. Vulnerable. Found out, helpless. A child with her secret let loose, a fugitive with a death warrant on her head.
In the back of her mind, she heard Rex's words, gentle and strong. Telling her to be herself. To be just Ahsoka.
"Why didn't you report us?" she asked warily, immediately hating the way her voice sounded small and full of fear. Even though that's all she was, right then. Afraid.
Vartan waited, mulling it over, as though asking the question himself. Then he began to speak.
"The world is changing, Ashla, and not for the better. A darkness is coming, or it may already be here. I knew the Imperials would come to Raada one day, and I knew that they would use us and discard us, with no sympathy for those who call this place home. I knew that innocents—little ones like Banji and Hedala, Chenna and Kolvin, and my wife and Hestu and so many others—would get caught in the middle, suffer, be crushed under the boot of the Empire. I knew that they needed something, or someone, to give them courage, faith in something, or… hope. And I knew that, with you and Rex, that might be possible.
"I worry about your generation, and mine, I do. I worry about where the galaxy is going and whether the endurance is there to overcome it all. It will have to be, but I worry about what will have to happen to make people endurant again. They will need strength to face the trials and tribulations they will be challenged with in the coming times."
Ahsoka listened, the dizzying, panicked spinning in her head gradually steadying, slowing. Vartan's words landed like solid stones of reason in her mind, the gravity of them settling her thoughts and her nerves that flitted wildly like felled leaves in the wind.
She felt the breeze whisper against the nape of her neck, brisk with the promise of a coming dusk. The sun was already setting. It was orange and bleeding and sending rays that burned spots into her vision.
"How do you suppose all of this will end, Vartan?" she asked, tone quiet, but firm. She had collected herself. She was calm, in control. She was herself.
"End? I'm not sure it ever will." He withdrew his hand from her shoulder, and she'd nearly forgotten that he'd left it there until she was suddenly bit by cold where his palm had been.
"But, until then, if it ever comes, we just need to stand for what we believe. And we must stand with those who we love," he looked at her again, and there was such a wise, solemn severity to his gaze that she couldn't help but think that everything he was saying was right.
She felt the Force ripple through the fibers of the sun-soaked air around her.
"I must stand with my wife, and the girls. You must stand with Rex. And together, with our loved ones, we must do whatever we are able to, in these dark times. We must love, and we must fight. We must have hope."
And not for the first time, Ahsoka realized that she played a very small, meaningful part in the very big, ever-changing story of the galaxy.