Chapter 15: The Lost

18 BBY- 1 Year after the Rise of the Empire

The Lunar Festival was a Raadan tradition, and it was pretty much the only one the little moon had. A celebration of the end of the harvest, it was a time to be thankful for bountiful crops and thankful for the plentiful autumn.

Ahsoka didn't think there was much to be thankful at all for this year.

The Imperials had already imported the seed for their new crop. It lay in waiting like a burlap-covered death sentence in the storage units. The dawn of the day after the harvest ended, the farmers had been instructed to go out to the fields, till the land, and plant the crop that would be the end of them.

The people were growing restless.

They were growing tired, thin, weary. Eyes sunken in by blackened circles.

And to make matters worse, the cause was not working. At least, not as well as they had hoped; the Imperials had yet to make any changes based on their small pokes and prods. Instead, they were growing frustrated, unable as of yet to find the culprits. They didn't have anyone they could blame and punish, execute and make an example of.

The Empire was not leaving, they were not taking their crop away, and they were most definitely not restoring the freedoms of the people.

And the little hope Ahsoka had that they would was dying.

Part of her whispered that she never should have had any hope in the first place. That the Empire was cruel, and ruthless, and that it had been pointless to even think that there would be a chance they could do something. A chance that they could fight back. She'd been a fool to even think of something so ludicrous in the first place.

"We need a new plan."
Vartan's voice was steady, even, but so low and so tense that it was more of an animalistic growl. It made Ahsoka uncomfortable.

"We need to show them that they aren't welcome here," Kolvin declared. "Enough of this tip-toeing around. We need to do something big!"

"What do you mean, 'show them'?" Banji interjected. "That's what we've been doing. That's why their communications went down for a day, why their walkers are unusable, why their electric fence doesn't work. We've been showing them that."

"Not enough," Kolvin countered. The Rodian dragged up a knee from where he sat on the cavern floor and rested his chin on it. "It has to be more than what we've been doing. We need open rebellion."

Rex scoffed. "Like what, a coup d'état? A siege? I can tell you right now, there is no way that any of us, even with the whole town on our side, could stand up to the Empire and make it out alive."

"Rex is right," Vartan agreed, rubbing his beard with a knuckle and a thumb. "But so is Kolvin."

Confused silence drenched the cave.

"That doesn't make any sense," Banji muttered.

"Yeah, you're gonna have to explain that one better, old friend," Hestu huffed, leaning back on his hands.

They were all in the caves tonight—Ahsoka, Rex, Vartan, Hestu, Kolvin, Chenna, Banji, and even Hedala, unable to find someone to watch her—sitting in a little circle on the ground like a children's playgroup or a mock Jedi council. All of it was making Ahsoka nervous. Both she and Rex did not like the idea of so many of them in their hidden sanctuary all at once, but they hadn't had a choice. Meeting in the village after dark was getting too risky. Stormtroopers were hunting the vandalizers and miscreants who disrupted their communications and ruined their walkers. The Empire was cracking down.

"We can't pursue a strategy of open violence that puts the lives of our town at risk, as Rex has said," Vartan said slowly, as if mulling the words over as he spoke. "But Kolvin is right in that we need to something bigger, of higher impact."

Silence, again. And then:

"We could blow up their entire compound."

Everyone's head swiveled in shock to Chenna. The older girl, usually so soft-spoken, so dove-like in her placatory beliefs, had dead severity in her dusk brown eyes.

"We could set charges around the admin building, the barracks, and the storage facility, take it all out. That would be big," she said, expression dark but tone wavering, as if she could hardly believe her own words.

"They'd have no connection to or method of communication with Imperial fleet or the nearest base," Rex murmured then, dipping his head in consideration. "It would cut them off, for a while."

"But that's big," Hestu put in, "that's crazy big."

"It might just be exactly what we need," Ahsoka said finally, rolling her shoulders back, cracking her back a bit.

"And it wouldn't put any citizens in harm's way," Vartan hummed, nodding. "In fact—I think I know just when to do it."

Vartan's idea was to attack during the Harvest Festival.

Follow Chenna's idea of blowing up the compound, the barracks, the admin building, the storage unit. Set it up beforehand, during the night, then at the festival, detonate it. Blow it all to hell.

It was… clever, Ahsoka had to admit.

"It will provide the perfect alibi for every citizen," she noted. "They won't be able to narrow down their suspect list to anyone."

So the planning began.

"We need to construct the charges, then we can divvy up who puts them where and when. We should practice in the cave. We don't want any accidents happening when we do this," Rex instructed.

"Good idea," Ahsoka said. "Let's start with that. Rex and I can show you the best way to set them up."

She looked towards Vartan, who gave her a subtle nod of approval. Then she turned back towards the group staring at her and began.

"The explosives need to be damn near invisible," Rex said as they sat in a circle configuring the parts and mechanisms of charges. "We need to tuck them away, out of eyesight. If they're found, this whole plan will go to banthashit."

"We can't just stick them on the sides of buildings. We need them in cracks, crevices, anywhere small enough that no one can see them," Ahsoka explained.

Rex nodded solemnly, holding up his finished charge to inspect it. "But they still have to be set well enough that they don't crack or fall out of place."

"But what if there's no good place to hide it?" Kolvin asked.

"Then find one," Rex grunted. "Get creative. Use your brain."

Kolvin rolled his eyes and went back to fixing charges. "Who pissed in his pot of caf?" he muttered a moment later.

While Ahsoka, Rex, Kolvin, and Chenna set the charges, Vartan and Hestu worked on marking a map of the complex, scribbling out where to strike in according to where the festival was being held a few blocks away. Eventually, Rex stood up and went to join them, helping them guess where the troopers would be at what times, where to avoid run-ins, where to keep civilians out of the fray, etc., etc. Things he was good at.

Banji sat playing with Hedala in the corner, who'd brought along two dolls (including the bean-filled sock), but the middle child's eye kept drifting towards the war-planning going on with the adults. Her gaze was curious. Tired of child's play, wanting to know more. Ready for a fight.

"Ashla," came Chenna's voice, bringing her back to focus. "Does this look right?"

Ahsoka looked at her just as she held up her charge for inspection. The two halves were screwed crooked and the wiring stuck out the sides. It was pretty terrible. The screws needed to be fastened tighter, the wiring refigured on the interior, the trigger tucked neatly into place…

But Chenna's hands were shaking, and Ahsoka couldn't have that. So she reached forward, intending to take the charge away and offer some comfort, but someone else's were already there.

Ahsoka blinked, looked up, and saw Banji. The younger girl's hands were wrapped around her sister's, gentle but firm.

"It's okay, Chenna," she said, voice more soothing than Ahsoka had ever heard it, dripping with sincerity. "I'll do it."

Swallowing, Chenna nodded, and handed the charge to her younger sister.

No, Ahsoka screamed inside, no, that can't be okay, that isn't right. She is far too young, too young to set charges, to sneak around in the night, to sit in secret caves and make secret plans for war.

She felt like she needed to say something, like she couldn't allow the girl, tell her she was too young. But she knew there was never really a choice. War was war. It had its way of finding people, plaguing them from a young age. She and Rex, of all people, knew that.

War. Forcing them to grow up too fast. Sending them to their deaths too fast.

In the corner of her eye, Hedala played with the dolls, giggling to herself, not aware of any of it, of anything going on, of the imminent death pressing in on her home. She was still just a child.

"Ashla," came another voice, this time Vartan's. He beckoned her from where he stood at the map. "Come see what we're thinking."

Ahsoka nodded, pressed her lips together, and rose to her feet. She silently placed a hand on Chenna's shoulder before heading over to the table, ignoring the dizziness that ebbed as she did so.

She needed to be a pillar of calm. She needed to exude confidence, resolve. Vartan's message of hope rang in the back of her mind, reminding her that she needed to stand for these people and show them strength. Even if her knees were shaking.

Rex eyed her as she moved to stand next to him, like he knew something was bothering her, which something was. She hated how it seemed like he just knew. He always knew.

"If we set off the charges in this order," Hestu said, dragging a dull claw in a line across the buildings they'd decided to target, "it'll send the troopers going in this direction, away from the townspeople, pushing them towards the outskirts of town."

"It wouldn't be wise to set it all off at once," Vartan agreed, "we should try to avoid casualties of the storm troopers. We want to prove a point, not cause unnecessary deaths."

Rex gave Ahsoka a look, one she didn't return, still questioning if she was alright or if she was about to topple to the floor. If he could sense she was falling apart at the seams, she gave him no confirmation of it.

Vartan nodded, deep in thought as he hunched over the map. "The festival starts as the sun starts to set, about an hour after the work week. It'll go well into the night, or even the early morning, if the alcohol lasts. We should leave the attack until about halfway through or so, maybe set it off around—"

"Well, well. What have we here?"

Ahsoka went rigid.

In half a heartbeat, they all whirled towards the voice, fists raised and blasters ready.

Standing at the entrance to the cavern was the scrawny, languidly-posed figure of an aging Gotal leaning against the stone wall.

Tibbola.

"So, this where that little 'cause' that everyone talks about is based, hm?"

"What are you doing here, Tibbola?" Vartan demanded, stepping forward. "You have no place here."

"Well, I was getting curious about where you'd pop off to during the day and night," he sighed, tone scathing and clipped. "So, I finally decided to follow you out here. Sure was getting tired of waiting to be included. Decided I'd just include myself."

"You're no better a liar than a lothrat. Why are you really here?" Hestu growled. His sheer size and protruding horns made him seem suddenly much more of a looming threat than before. If he wanted, he could probably squash the Gotal under his boot like a slug.

But Tibbola didn't flinch. He cackled, and a hiccup bubbled up in between. For the first time, Ahsoka noticed the beer bottle clutched between his gnarled fingers.

"You could be right, fat man. Or I could just feel very… patriotic, and I want to fight for Raada's freedom," he snickered.

"What do you want, Tibbola?" said Rex, voice short and dark as he lifted his blaster. This time, Tibbola winced, though he tried to hide it.

"You're a lying bastard, Tibbola. Get out of here," spat Kolvin, coming over to stand next to the others. Banji followed him, clutching a charge in her hand. Hedala trailed shyly behind.

"You're not wanted here," Ahsoka said evenly, her voice ice. Her heart was racing. She kept her fists raised and ready to swing.

This could go very, very badly.

When Tibbola didn't budge from the doorway, Ahsoka, Rex, and Kolvin all took a threatening step forward, ready to do make good on whatever silent threats they'd promised, but Vartan beat them to it.

"Tibbola," he said steadily, "if you know what is best for you, you would leave this place and not speak of it again."

The Gotal's glassy yellow eyes glared up at Vartan's grey ones, faces just a pinch away. Vartan's expression was calm, composed, but his eyes vowed a quick death. "A wagging tongue can set a forest ablaze," he warned.

"Don't bother me with your riddles, old man," Tibbola snapped, backing down and looking away. He hacked up some saliva and spat on the ground.

"You're the same age, you stupid sleemo," Banji sassed, quickly silenced by Chenna.

Vartan let out a satisfied grunt and stepped back towards the map, arm gesturing towards the exit.

Tibbola still hesitated at the doorway. A sly grin played at the corner of his mouth. "But first, I want to—"
"We said get out of here, Tibbola!" Banji yelled, pushing past her sister and swinging a hand in the air. Ahsoka watched with shock as she hurled the broken charge in her hand. It sailed the short distance and landed smack in Tibbola's left eye before bouncing off and rolling to the floor. He let out a sharp yelp and a hand flew to his face.

"Banji!" Vartan scolded, head snapping to face the girl, "control yourself!"

"Stupid girl!" Tibbola snarled, rubbing a hand over the screwed-shut eye. Her took a looming step towards her, and Banji flinched back quickly.

He was furious. And he was drunk.

He raised his hand for a quick, heavy blow, but in the half-second before the back of his hand connected with Banji's cheek, he stumbled over nothing and jostled backwards, tripping over his own feet.

"What the—" he grunted, stopping short. His eyes, unfocused and suspicious, wandered past Banji and glinted.

Slowly, Ahsoka followed his gaze to see Hedala, standing with her feet planted like little tree roots to the ground. Her tiny palms were outstretched and faced Tibbola.

In the air around her, the Force crackled and simmered and sparked.

Horror split ice-cold through Ahsoka's stomach.

Rex was already on it. He threw himself between the Gotal and the child, outraged. He jammed the nose of his blaster into his chest, sending alarm blazing over Tibbola's face. The beer bottle in his hand dropped and shattered on the stone floor as his hands flew up in surrender.

Vartan stepped behind Rex to back him up, seething. "Leave, Tibbola. Now."

Terrified with the blaster pinpointed on his chest, Tibbola obliged.

"Of course," he stammered. "I was just going."

He turned to leave, but Rex grabbed the collar of his shirt with his free hand and yanked him back around. "If a word of this leaves this cave," he hissed, knuckles fisted bone-white in his shirt, "the scut-vultures will be the only ones to find your sorry carcass before it rots away."

Tibbola nodded like his life depended on it. Which it did.

With one last withering glare, Rex released him. Swallowing, the drunk stepped around the puddled shards of his drink and left the cave.

Ahsoka felt her stomach flip and threaten to empty itself right then and there.

The push was small. It hadn't been noticeable. It wasn't her fault, Hedala had just been scared, she was just trying to help, she, she—didn't—she didn't know what she'd done, but Tibbola couldn't have noticed, the movement was so slight, he just stumbled over the rocky floor in his own drunkenness, there was nothing that—

"Everyone needs to go home, now," Rex declared, setting his blaster back in its holster and turning around to face the group. "Take separate routes. Make sure no one sees you. And I mean no one."

"Hestu and Kolvin will go separately. The girls will come with me. We'll finish the planning later," Vartan said sternly.

Ahsoka nodded along to what they were saying, trying to pay attention, trying to stop the panic fizzing up in her throat.

Focus. She needed to focus.

"Chenna?" she heard Hedala say fearfully in the back of the cave, "did I do something wrong?"

"Of course not, Hedala." A scared whisper. "Of course not."

Ahsoka's breathing fluttered and she swallowed back her own bile. She needed to be strong, and she needed to be strong for Hedala, and she needed to be strong now.

"Rex and I will conceal all of the weapons, take them and store them further into the caves where they'll be harder to find," she said firmly."If someone does find out about this place, we can't have anything incriminating. We'll clear out this main cavern and make it look like an abandoned shelter." Her back straightened and she shoulders rolled back, as though she was setting herself into the dignified shell of what she needed to be. "The plan will still go on. We will just need to be more careful. Set the charges quicker, and in very small groups."

Rex grunted his agreement and she tried to ignore the way her skin prickled when he looked at her.

"I'll roll up the map," she continued. "Someone should take that home and keep it somewhere safe. We can't leave it here to be found."

"I can do that," Hestu offered.

"And someone needs to follow Tibbola home, and make sure he doesn't go to the cantina and open his loud drunken mouth," Rex added gruffly.

"I'll do that," Kolvin volunteered. He dashed for the entrance and disappeared.

Hestu left moments later, taking the map with him. Vartan helped Rex and Ahsoka move some of the heavier crates further into the caves, staying about another half hour, but everyone was tense, needed sleep, and needed to go home. Every second they spent in the caves felt like another minute risked being found out.

"Alright girls, let's get you home," Vartan said after a while, beckoning to the three girls waiting in the corner.

Chenna sat upright and awake, Hedala asleep in her arms with Banji dozing off on her shoulder.

"Thank you," she said quietly.

Ahsoka and Rex followed them up and out of the caves. Her hand hovered near Hedala the entire way, as though she could shatter into pieces at any second. Her pudgy cheek was mushed against Chenna's shoulder and her snores were tiny and droning.

"We'll meet again in a few days, but not anytime soon," Vartan said once they breached the entrance. His words were curt but the circles under his eyes did nothing to hide his exhaustion. "We can't risk being seen together for a while."

"We'll head here after crokin and dinner at the end of the work week," Rex told him.

Ahsoka nodded her head, still presenting the put-together and self-assured leader that they thought she was, and very well used to be. Jaw set, bearing firm. Even breathing. A pillar of confidence.

But all she could say when they turned to leave was a weak, hushed, "stay safe."

Vartan and the girls headed down the rocky slope towards their cargo speeder. Ahsoka watched with trepidation as the older man lifted the three girls into the cart and then climbed on, kicked back the stand, and sped off.

As they disappeared into the night-swathed fields, Ahsoka thought to start their trek home. There was nothing left to do. The most logical thing would be to go get some rest, or to continue working on the repairs she still had to do for her normal job, her job as a mechanic, which was waiting for her in the shop. Yes, the shop. In the shop, she would be able to find something that needed doing. There was always something that needed doing.

Ahsoka moved to take a step forward, to leave the cave behind, to go back to the shop. But Rex caught her arm above the elbow and gently tugged her back.

"Rex, what—"

"Shh, just breathe. It's alright."

She wasn't sure what he was doing until his arms were around her and she was pressed against his chest, breathing him in.

He didn't have to use words. He just drew her into him and held her close, like he knew she'd been putting up a front and that she wasn't okay, that she'd just been pretending to be a pillar of calm, but was in fact crumbling like ancient ruins or a bombed Jedi temple.

All she wanted was to be back on the Resolute, standing alongside her master, with the men and their brothers all safely at her side.

Instead, they were all dead, and she was here, fearing that within the week, she and Rex and everyone they were fighting for would be dead, too.

Ahsoka's chest clenched as shock and dread ripped through her body. Her ribs cracked open and let out a quiet, strangled cry. She started to sink, her knees crumpling to the ground, her elbows caught on Rex's arms as he tried to hold her up. But she just kept sinking, crumbling, breaking.

He didn't ask permission before he lifted her unceremoniously into his arms—because she wouldn't give it, she would just say she was alright and then topple over again—and carried her back into the caves.

Once inside the dim-lit safety of their sanctuary, Rex set her down gently, leaning against the wall and half-cradling her in her arms as she shivered and breathed and struggled to open her eyes.

"Rex—Rex, I, what if I—what if I did the wrong thing, what if he knows about Hedala? What if they find out, and—I don't know—I don't know what would happen, but—but it can't be good, it couldn't—what if—"

"Ahsoka, just breathe. You couldn't do anything. He couldn't have seen. Hedala is safe, and you kept her that way."

She shuddered and caved in closer to him, her bones feeling cold and heavy. She felt her heartbeat racing beyond its limits while her head was spinning to the point of nausea. Her fingers curled into the fabric of Rex's shirt as she tried to anchor herself in him. But she refused to open her eyes, refused to meet his gaze, because she knew she'd lose it the second she did.

"No! No, I—should've heard him, should've felt him coming, footsteps and the—the Force, I should've been able to sense him, and, and—and now it's all at risk, the cause, the plan, the rebellion, everything—"

She stopped, choking. The words were trapped somewhere between her throat and in her stomach, and if she wasn't careful, she'd throw it all up on the ground. It made her want to scream.

Rex waited patiently, holding her tight, rubbing gentle circles into her back like it would help ease the words out. He tucked his leg closer around her so that it kept her more secure against him, less likely to teeter over.

Ahsoka took in a shaky breath and tried. "Everything… everything we have done up until now… would have all been for nothing. Just like that. And… and Hedala…"

Her voice splintered into a whisper.

"Her blood could be on my hands."

"Don't say that," Rex said sharply, tightening his grip on her. "Don't say things that aren't true. You know that's not true. Tibbola saw nothing, and he won't say anything. Everyone is safe, and we can protect them."

But Ahsoka wasn't thinking about Tibbola anymore. She was spiraling, lost to everything. Her mind tumbled elsewhere, spinning back to the beginning of it all. Sitting in that gaudy, red-painted cantina, flicking couscous at each other and discussing whether they should stay or run. He said run, and she fought him on it. She fought him on rebellion. On deciding to fight the Empire.

"I should have listened. We should never have stayed. We've put them all in danger."

"We've given them a fighting chance."

"No, Rex," she said, her voice sharp and agonized. "I've—I've put their lives at risk, when—"

"Ahsoka, you didn't—"

"—when this could've all been for nothing, and—"

"But it's not for nothing, we've just—"

"—and I could lose you!"

Rex's arms went rigid around her. His breath hitched in his throat.

In the Force, Ahsoka felt his heartbeat start to pound.

She wanted to cry. She didn't want to face it, the truth, her greatest fear. The fear of losing the only thing she had left.

Jedi couldn't cry. But she wanted to.

And she was no Jedi.

It was hard, at first. Her eyes were brimming, but the tears inverted, bringing a maddening tingling to the tip of her nose, a hot and swollen heaviness behind her eyes, and a bitter, salty tang to her tongue. It made her want to shout and curse. Why couldn't she just cry? Why couldn't she just let it out?

Then she felt Rex's arms tighten around her, shaking and desperate. She felt the warmth of him embrace her like a silent promise. She felt him press his lips against her montral, warm and heavy, gentle and tender. Then he tucked his chin into his chest and pressed his cheek against her forehead. She felt it was wet.

Her tears began to slip away.

They held each other like this, quiet and crying, distressed and longing, unable to let go. Ahsoka wept into his shoulder, mourning for all that she had lost and all that was to come. She cried so hard she couldn't breathe. Rex held her close, didn't let her go, but his body was racked with quiet, choked, heaving sobs. His hands trembled as they grasped at her waist and pulled at her shoulders. He just wanted her closer, closer.

His breath caressed her nose as he cupped her wet cheeks in his palms and lifted her face to his. He brought her close and rested his forehead against hers. His eyes stayed screwed shut as he held her, tears falling unchecked down his cheeks, dripping off of his chin and mingling with hers.

"'Soka—"

His voice cracked, and so did her heart.

"'Soka, I—I won't lose you."

Ahsoka shattered. She melted brokenly into his arms, a tumbling, ugly, sobbing mess. His hands were warm on her cheeks and she could feel the pulse in his palms pressed against her jaw. She let her arms find their way up his chest, shaking and unsteady. Then she pressed a kiss into his shoulder, pressed her lips against his neck. With numb fingertips, she entwined her hands around the back of his head. She let a thumb caress his tear-stained cheek.

When the words slipped past her lips, they sounded like a choked prayer.

"You will never lose me."

They fell asleep in a tangle of arms and legs on the cavern floor, desperate kisses and hushed tears, reassuring touches and tight embraces, clutching at each other like they were the only thing they had left in the galaxy.

And they were.