Thank you, thank you for all of your reviews! I hope I don't disappoint – the pressure to keep you all happy is mounting. But that's a good thing. It keeps me sharp.

READER POLL: Let me know how you think Ahsoka should be disciplined. Grounded? Library Duty? Something more corporal? A bit of everything? Your input is much appreciated.

The Clone Wars belongs to George Lucas, not me.

"Anakin!"

The younger Jedi snapped out of his thoughts and focused onto his former master's now scowling face. "You've been dozing."

Anakin shrugged by way of apology. "I was only taking your advice, Obi-Wan. You said I should sit back and enjoy the music. It got me thinking that on one of my leave days, this club wouldn't be such a bad place to hang out." He caught himself before adding, "Then Padame can't complain that I don't take her anywhere nice."

Obi-Wan dismissed Anakin's reasoning and turned his attention back to the matter at hand. "To the right and behind the center bar, see that curtain?"

Anakin nodded his head.

"There's a man approaching it, and correct me if I'm wrong, but he seems a tad under-dressed for this club."

The two Jedi maintained a calm outer demeanor, though if one of the club patrons were to really pay them any attention, they would notice muscles poised for action. As the curtain rose for the man's entrance, their eyes widened as they registered the confirming evidence to their suspicion. Nute Gunray, ever the self-serving coward, had decided to play it safe and send one of his advisors, Layte Eelston, instead.

"It seems our mystery players have arrived," mused Obi-Wan.

Anakin was chomping at the bit. Finally, time to act! "So how do we want to break up their little tea party?" he asked.

"We're not breaking anything," ordered Obi-Wan, placing a restraining hand on the younger man's hand which was now firmly gripped around his Lightsaber holster. "This isn't a battle-zone, Anakin. Civilians absolutely can't get involved. And on top of that, we can't afford to loose our tenuous alliance with the Hutt. I doubt they'd like their newly opened club to become one of our casualties."

Anakin snorted. "That's assuming the alliance is still in place," he grumbled under his breath. "Fine, so what do you propose we do?"

At that moment, a server with a bevy of fresh drinks passed their booth. Obi-Wan waved his hand in front of the server's face. "You will provide me with your uniform, and those drinks. You are ending your shift and going home."

"I will provide you with my uniform and these drinks. I am ending my shift and going home," he responded.

The younger Jedi smirked at his former master. Though a skill he now possessed for some time, he never got over how effortlessly and cleanly Obi-Wan did it.

As Obi-Wan donned the apron he continued, "We need to find out the purpose of their little meeting, undetected. Layte doesn't know who I am, and I doubt the man he is meeting with can recognize me. But on the off-chance my cover is blown..." he trailed, and Anakin followed his eyes' gaze to the far back emergency exit of the club. An easy escape route for traitors on the run.

"On it. We'll meet at the rendezvous point at o-two-hundred hours."

The two men curtly nodded at each other and then each went his separate way.

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It had only been two minutes since Reln had left Ahsoka at the table, and the feeling of unease in the pit of her stomach had only intensified. What type of legitimate business meeting went on at this time of night, anyway?

Since it was going to be at least another twenty minutes before he would return to their table, Ahsoka decided to hit the 'fresher, and, well, freshen up. She hoped a light splashing of cool water to her face would also settle her nerves.

Taking a glance in the mirror, she took stock of herself objectively. She winced at the slight circles growing under her eyes. But all in all, she was holding up just fine.

Ahsoka smoothed a hand over the diaphanous dress Senator Amidala had given her. Ahsoka smiled at the memory. The Senator was one of the first to notice Ahsoka's changing figure, and had presented it as a gift. Crème and champagne colored to better show-off her naturally vibrant tones,plus with enough folds and pockets to hide a Lightsaber, the Senator had quipped. The Togrutan initially scoffed, saying she would never have an opportunity to wear it. Senator Amidala waved her skepticism away.

"You can still be a Jedi, and a woman, Ahsoka. It's not a one or the other type of thing. Take it. Even if it only ever hangs in your closet, sometimes it's just nice knowing that part of you is still there. Besides, you might have an occasion for it some day."

Ahsoka's smile faded as she pictured the Senator standing behind her, wringing her hands in worry and shaking her head, disapproving of who the girl had chosen as a worthy occasion for such a pure dress.

"Stop it!" she scolded herself. "You're working yourself up for nothing, Ahsoka. You're only nervous because you know that there's no way you're going to make it back to the Temple without getting caught. Just because you're going around sneaking and lying to people doesn't mean everyone else is, too. Stop thinking the worst of Reln. The Senator does want you to step into your womanhood. His kiss has done just that," she rationalized.

Speaking of whom, she figured she had spent enough time away from the table. If he happened to finish his business early, she didn't want him to find the table empty. He had promised to pick up their, er, conversation where he had broken it off, after all. That thought sent warm tingles up and down her body, though not quite as electrifying as before.

If she was so eager to join Reln in that conversation, why was she slow in getting back? Why the nerves, and why the almost suicidal urge to comm-link her master so he could take her back home?

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Anakin's comm-link flashed, signaling an incoming message.

"What did you find out?" he asked, assuming it was Obi-Wan.

"I know where our Little Soka is," came Plo-Koon's steady, firm reply.

Anakin nearly jumped from the darkened corner table he had been sitting at, a measure to block the back entrance should the need arise. Which he hoped would.

"Well where is she? Who are you sending to retrieve her? Is she okay? Is she hurt? Is she in Separatist hands?" Anakin's mind raced with questions, each increasingly more distressing as the worry and anger he had tamped down for the sake of the mission came rushing back at full force.

"As far as I know, she is fine. And no, she is not with Separatist's. At least we don't believe so."

"You don't believe so?" Anakin queried incredulously.

Plo-Koon sighed, ignoring the question. "I have strong reason to believe you will be bringing her back to the Temple."

"Why is that?"

The Kel-Doran braced himself for the volatile Jedi's predictable reaction before answering. "She's there, at Moonlight's Day."

"What?" he exploded. "When I get my hands on her, she's going to wish -"

"I realize you are her master, Skywalker," Plo- Koon interrupted. "However, I would ask that you not administer discipline until you and Master Kenobi have finished your mission and then brought her safely back. This may be a matter for the Council to discuss."

"I am done discussing things. If you had let me deal with her earlier, she would be safe in her bunk right now!"

"That may be true, or it may not," came the experienced Jedi's measured answer. "The fact remains she has jeopardized the success of a mission for a second time, and therefore protocol dictates that the consequences to her actions must be meted out by the Council."

Anakin was about ready to tell Plo-Koon just exactly where the Council and its protocol could go, when he spotted two very familiar head-tails bobbing amongst the crowd.

"Fine," he ground out in response to Plo-Koon, then shut-off the channel before the Kel-Doran could dictate anything else.

Torn between following his Padawan and commanding her to wait for him back at his Speed Pod or following through with the plans he and Obi-Wan had worked out, in the end he decided to continue with the course that had been decided.

In the meantime, he would watch and wait. From his current position, he could keep a clearer eye on his wayward Padawan and on any fleeing Separatists. Trap set.

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"Stupid man!" Layte Eelston shouted.

"My apologies," Obi-Wan murmured, head bowed, while he mopped the spilled liquid from off the table, providing him with a closer look at what seemed blueprints for a powerful weapon prototype. Something about the blaster's design seemed familiar, though he could not quite place it.

"Enough, enough! Just leave us. Don't expect a tip from me, you incompetent fool."

"Again, my apologies. If we may offer you another drink, on the house, to replace -"

"No. Leave, and don't send anyone back," cut-off an exasperated Layte.

"Perhaps something to eat, then? Free of charge, of course. Crispy Setchwa is our house specialty and –"

"Are you deaf? Get out, while the gettin's good," an edgy voice responded. The young man with dark hair, Reln was his name, stood and grasped him by his shirt-front.

Obi-Wan did not want to cause a scene, for fear of losing his cover and risking what precious information he could glean from their conversation regarding this prototype. While Layte and his Neimoidian staff were occupied drying the table and their cloaks, Obi-Wan attempted a mind trick. "You will let me stay," he instructed, looking into the young man's eyes.

Reln stopped shoving him out of the room. "I will let you -" then abruptly shook his head. "Jedi," he whispered.

Before Obi-Wan could take further action, Reln punched him in the jaw, causing Obi-Wan to loose his balance. Reln pulled out his blaster and fired random shots while vaulting the table and grabbing all the prototype blueprints.

Obi-Wan let out a frustrated curse as he unsheathed his Lightsaber, blocking blasts from the now irate Neimoidians, unable to give chase to Reln.

"Anakin!" he called into his comm-link. "He should be heading right for you. Don't let him leave!"

"And here I thought we trying to keep things quiet."

"Not now, Anakin!"

Anakin smiled. He had waited patiently long enough. Ready to pounce on the man as soon as he would turn the corner for the back entrance, Anakin was surprised to notice that he ran into the melee of frightened and disoriented club patrons.

That's when his heart stopped. The traitor was heading straight for Ahsoka.

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Ahsoka reached for her Lightsaber the minute she heard blasters discharging from the cordoned room. Unfortunately, she wasn't the only one to hear the fatal sounds.

The room erupted into ball of confusion and panic, people pushing and shoving to get to the doors. One frantic woman accidentally pushed Ahsoka hard enough to lose her balance.

"I never thought I would die by stampede," she thought to herself. But before she could meet such a grim end, a strong hand gripped her arm and pulled her up. Turning to thank her savior, she noticed a very distraught Reln. And he was shooting into the crowd!

"Let's go!" he commanded, dragging her towards the front entrance.

"No! Let me go! What's going on?" she screamed. She reached for her Lightsaber, only to have it jostled out of her grip by the stampeding crowd. "NO!" she cried, hitting and kicking, hoping to get loose and search for her Lightsaber. This could not happen again!

Tired of her struggle slowing him down, Reln hefted her over his shoulder, knocking the wind out of her. Then, right before jumping out a large front window, said "Sorry, Ahlevhna. This isn't how I planned on getting you to my place tonight."

"What do you plan to do with me?" She hoped the panic in her voice didn't show. She felt naked and vulnerable without her Lightsaber, even more naked and vulnerable than she already felt for trusting him to begin with.

"We can do whatever you want. If I have to have a hostage, I'm glad it's one I've already grown to like. Come on, won't it be fun to play together?" he asked, while laughing that laugh that only a few hours ago made her heart melt.

Ahsoka thought she was going to be sick.

For a split second, she thought she saw her master running toward her, but didn't trust her eyes. No, he would have no reason to suspect that she would be here, at this club, bouncing over some lunatic's shoulder. So why would he be running to save her?

No. She got herself into this mess, and she would have to get herself out of it. She wasn't just another pretty face in a pretty dress. So he wanted to play? Oh yes, Lightsaber or not, Ahsoka could play. She just couldn't promise she'd be playing fair.