T/W: Mentions of prison r*pe and death penalty
Mace grunts as the clone medic pulls even tighter on the bandage around his wrist. It still throbs- Skywalker has quite the grip. He makes a mental note to have words with Yoda about the Knight's poor ability to not let his emotions control him.
If Depa was ever shot by a bounty hunter during her Apprenticeship, Mace wouldn't dare harm the person responsible. It isn't the Jedi way to respond to violence with violence.
It's Skywalker's way- apparently.
Though, he thinks the supposed Chosen One was holding back when he arrested him. The Force had swirled around him in waves of rage, and Mace honestly feels safer now he's in the detention facility with swarms of criminals- away from Skywalker.
This could be a new crime deterrent; threatening people that Jedi General Anakin Skywalker will be the one arresting them. Crime rates would drop impressively.
The medic secures the bandage with one final sharp tug and huffs, pushing two pills into Mace's- Hardeen's- palm. He looks down at the two pinkish pills, "A Jedi broke my wrist and the best you can give me is ibuprofen."
Speaking in Hardeen's voice feels so wrong.
The medic scoffs, "You're lucky we're treating you in the first place."
Made swallows the pills dry because he knows no water will be offered if he asks. "I've been in Separatist prisons and received better treatment."
The medic looks him dead in the eye, and Mace never realised how intimidating clones could be. "You dared to harm Commander Tano, Hardeen. Don't expect any guard here to go easy on you."
Ah, of course, Padawan Tano is an idol amongst clone troopers- even Ponds was a fan. Mace has no idea why they hold her in such high regard. Sure, Tano is a good warrior and leader, but she's also immature, disobedient, and terrible at refraining from attachments.
Sounds like a certain Knight.
He laughs, staying in character, "If I had killed her, what would you clone troopers do to me?"
The medic squirms but quickly composes himself, "I know a few men who would pay you a visit in the fresher if Commander Tano hadn't survived your attack."
It's Mace's turn to feel uncomfortable. He scowls, understanding completely what the clone is implying.
"Don't panic," the clone laughs, standing up from the plastic chair. "You wouldn't have to live with the memories for too long. General Skywalker is good friends with Chancellor Palpatine; you'd have a secure booking with the electric chair if the Commander was killed by your hand."
"Ani!" He all but collapses onto Padmé as she opens the door for him. "Ani, what is it?"
"Long day." He says, wrapping his arms around her back and holding her tight to his chest, allowing her presence to soothe the hurricane in his mind. "Just a long day."
When Anakin finished handing Hardeen over to the guards at the detention facility, he headed to Padmé's apartment, knowing he was too angry to spend the night at Ahsoka's bedside.
Hardeen's lucky Anakin snapped his wrist and not his neck.
Padmé tilts her head back, inviting him into a kiss. Anakin happily joins their lips in an unbreakable seal, runs his flesh fingers through her hair. She's in her nightgown; it's nearly midnight.
She pulls away and places a hand on his cheek, "How's Ahsoka?"
He exhales, tightening his grip on her. "Depressed."
Padmé's smile softens, "Healer Che said it's normal, Ani."
"Doesn't mean I have to put up with it." He sighs, taking her hand and walking them to the couch which he promptly drops onto. "She's got no appetite, Padmé, and she's not sleeping more than four hours a night."
"It's the medicine." Padmé tells him, resting a hand on his chest as she sits beside him. "She'll bounce back when she has recovered enough to be out of bed. I'll go and see her tomorrow. You should stay here and have a lie in."
"No," he shakes his head, appalled with the thought of not seeing Ahsoka first thing, "I need to-"
"Anakin."
He wants to protest further, but Padmé uses her stern voice and the exhaustion is playing heavily on his mind. From arresting Hardeen to finding out Obi-Wan has been taken ill, he knows it won't be long before he starts snapping at everyone around him.
He cannot- under any circumstances- snap at Ahsoka.
You are no use dead on your feet, Chosen One.
"Alright, you win." Like always. He wraps an arm around his wife's shoulders and presses a kiss to her forehead. "I feel better now Hardeen is behind bars."
"Just wait, love," Padmé leans her head against his shoulder, "Ahsoka will recover soon, and things will go back to the way they were before, I promise."
Anakin nods- believing her. He'll wait.
Inside the Halls of Healing, Ahsoka's trying to sleep. Keyword: trying.
Anakin isn't here, and whilst she doesn't want to appear needy, she misses him. Pain is still present across her entire body, and Master Che said they can't afford to put her on any stronger medications.
They offered to do a healing trance on her, but Ahsoka politely refused. Her head is a swarm of negative emotions right now, and she doesn't need someone prodding around her thoughts.
She needs to talk to someone- anyone. Togrutas aren't good at social isolation.
The 501st medics know this and always make sure she isn't put in a private room to avoid the painful loneliness. Sometimes, if she has to stay in the medbay overnight, Coric pulls up a chair to her bedside and does his reports whilst she sleeps. Now, she's completely alone, and it's deadly quiet.
It's far, far too quiet.
With her right hand, Ahsoka reaches for her bedside, pushing past the resistance of the back brace. Master Che said it needs to stay on for eight to twelve weeks, but Ahsoka thinks that's excessive. Her back feels fine if a bit sore.
She fumbles for her commlink which Anakin left there along with her lightsabers, even though she doesn't know if she'll be able to use them if she has to. Her fingers catch the cool metal of the commlink, but then she feels it drop off the bedside table.
"Kriff," she mutters, hearing it hit the hard floor. Opening her palm in the general direction she dropped it in, Ahsoka accesses the Force and pulls the comm into her fist, mutters "Please, don't be broken."
The Force must've heard her because the commlink bleeps as she dials in a memorised frequency.
It barely rings twice, "Ahsoka?"
"Rex." A smile grows on her mouth at the sound of his voice. "Why are you still up?"
"I stayed awake in case the General needed any backup. Are you al-"
"What do you mean 'backup'?" Ahsoka asks, her heart hammering in her chest. She thought Anakin was finally looking after himself tonight, not going off on missions.
"To arrest Hardeen; didn't you know?" No, she didn't. "Are you alright, Ahsoka? I've been so worried!"
Her head spins: the Council sent Anakin- of all people- to arrest Hardeen? Did Obi-Wan go with him? She hopes he did.
"Ahsoka?"
She shakes her head, "Yes, Rex, I'm fine. Well, not really," she winces, realising how stupid she sounds, "They had to amputate my leg."
"I heard." Rex's voice is hard. "Thorn said you fell six stories and hurt your back as well."
Six stories?
"You know more about what happened than I do, Rexster." She laughs.
"Trust me, Ahsoka, I was in the dark until Thorn called me." Rex replies, his tone softening. "I tried to call General Kenobi last night, but he was very secretive."
Ahsoka pauses; that's unlike Obi-Wan to withhold information from Rex. He knows how close the Captain is to herself and Anakin.
"I think he's a bit shook up." Ahsoka places the commlink on her chest so she can lay her hand over her forehead, "The sniper was aiming for him originally."
He chuckles, "Let me guess, you jumped in front of him and took the shot?"
"He didn't have his lightsaber ignited." She says, recounting the fuzzy memories from last night, "If I hadn't got there in time, the bounty hunter would've killed him."
"Obi-Wan!" She hears Anakin scream, making her jolt in her bed; what the kriff?
"I've got him, go!" That sounds like her.
With great difficulty, Ahsoka pulls herself upright by the rails off her bed and looks around her dark room, panic growing in her chest.
"Ahsoka?" Rex asks through her commlink. "You alright?"
"I'll call you back tomorrow, Rex." She whispers before leaning over her bed, trying to find the Healer Call button. It's around the headboard somewhere.
Her eyes cross as a scene invades her mind, and she's momentarily transported from her hospital room to the street where she saw Obi-Wan was about to be shot.
She sees herself running to an overturned pile of boxes, jumping over the edge and scooping up the body of-
Oh Force.
Obi-Wan.
Blood's smeared over the left-hand side of his cream tunic, staining her hand as she attempts to put pressure on the wound. Obi-Wan's head slumps into the bend of her elbow, his cheeks losing their colour.
She presses two fingers to the side of his neck, feels nothing but stillness.
Anakin jumps down and runs to their side, "How is he?"
She looks up at her Master, not able to say the words out loud.
"Obi-Wan." He collapses to his knees and starts shaking Obi-Wan's shoulders like the elder Jedi is a rag doll. "Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan!"
"Padawan Tano, wake up!"
She jerks back to reality with a large gasp.
The lights are on- it's so bright- and hands are all over her arms and head, holding her down. Ahsoka pulls out of their hold, inhales sharply and screams out, "Obi-Wan!"
There's a prick on her bicep and then two stronger hands holding her down. Ahsoka tries to kick and thrust, hears someone shouting, "Can we get some help in here, please!"
"Obi-Wan!" She gets out again, her voice slurring as the sedative starts to work immediately, "Master! Obi-Wan, please!"
"Ahsoka, Ahsoka, listen to me," a soothing male voice reaches her ringing montrals. A hand is on the crown of her head, brushing over the skin, "Listen to me; focus on my voice."
"Obi-Wan," she whimpers, her limbs feeling more and more like lead with every passing second.
"I know, he's alright," the man promises, "Just take deep breaths; don't fight the medicine. We just want to help you calm down."
She turns her head to look at the strange man, squinting at his unfamiliar features, "I'm Healer Tyson, Master Che's second-in-command. I'm doing the night shift."
She tries to settle, reminding herself that she's safe in the Halls of Healing. What she saw was horrific, but it wasn't real- none of it.
"It was just a nightmare, Ahsoka." Tyson says, reading her thoughts.
No, young one. It was a vision of what was supposed to happen before you changed fate.
She shivers, sinking further into the mattress as some of the hands restraining her loosen their grip. Tyson stays put, stroking the crown of her head in slow motions. It's oddly calming.
"That's it," he praises quietly, "just breathe."
Tyson doesn't leave until the zolpidem is completely absorbed in Ahsoka's blood system. Nightmares and insomnia are common problems for survivors of trauma, and he can't think of anything more traumatic than falling off the top of a building and not losing consciousness.
He gets a Junior Healer to dim the lights, making it easier for Ahsoka to fall back asleep. He can tell she's still fighting the sedative, but it eventually overpowers her. He'll need to tell Vokara about this; her nightmare got pretty violent and it took four members of staff to hold her down.
When he leaves her room at last, he realises that one of her Masters is already aware of what happened, probably because he was in the room next door whilst Ahsoka screamed out his name at the top of her lungs.
"You're supposed to be resting," Tyson says, taking Obi-Wan's elbow and leading him back into his own room. "Ahsoka's fine; it was just a nightmare."
"What about?" Obi-Wan asks.
"That's for Ahsoka to know and to share when she feels comfortable to." Tyson says plainly, nodding at Obi-Wan bed, "Now, back to sleep or else I'll sedate you too."
"You sedated her?"
"It was a violent nightmare." He explains, sighing, "Nothing we couldn't handle."
"How much longer do I have to stay here?" Obi-Wan whines, sliding under his duvet, "I feel fine."
"You'll be staying until Master Che says so." Tyson offers, reaching for the light switch, "Goodnight, Obi-Wan."
Mace is sent for breakfast, or whatever the slop on his plate is meant to be. He pushes the pain of his wrist away to focus on the mission on hand. He needs to get close to Eval.
"That's him?" A Karkarodon comes over, leaning over the table in Mace's face. He turns away from the awful stench of his fishy breath. "That's the one who shot Skywalker's pet?"
Mace nearly laughs- Skywalker's pet.
It's true. Tano would go to the end of the universe for Skywalker, and he would do the same for her. They're one of the cringey Master and Padawan duos, like Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan used to be.
"He doesn't look so tough." The shark-faced prisoner carries on, drinking from Mace's cup. Gross; does he even know how many germs can be passed from- "The little bitch survived, after all."
Mace bites down hard on his fork. He doesn't like Tano, but he has a bit more respect for her than that.
"This food tastes terrible." He says before stabbing his fork into the Karkarodon's hand. The prisoner lets out a roar in pain, and Mace finally understands what Skywalker felt when he broke his wrist.
Satisfaction.
He isn't Mace Windu of the Jedi Order right now; he's Rako Hardeen, Marksman of Concord Dawn.
He reaches out and grabs the prisoner's gills lining the side of his head, pulling him close enough so he can speak at a volume only the Karkarodon can hear. "Maybe you'd taste better."
"Hey! What's going on down there!" A guard yells from the raised platform.
"Sorry," Mace says, releasing the Karkarodon, "just playing with my food."
The shark-faced creature pulls the fork from his hand and backs away, shouts, "You're crazy!"
Mace smirks.
It isn't long until Moralo Eval slips into the seat opposite him. "Rako Hardeen, your reputation proceeds you."
Mace purposefully ignores him as he carries on, "I'm curious. When you shot that sweet, little Jedi, was it for money or revenge?"
"I don't know." Mace shrugs, trying not to scowl at the fetish these prisoners have for Tano. "Guess I was bored."
Intel told the Jedi Council that Eval killed his mother when he was only a boy because he was bored.
Eval chuckles, "Try the sauce," he pushes the bottle towards him, "it makes that slop almost tolerable."
The evil mastermind stands, "I'll be seeing you, Mr Hardeen."