AN: My last chapter wasn't so great...I lost my train of thought during it, I guess. I hate it when I do that. But, I like reviews so please review!
Ahsoka's small frown had to make the woman take pity on her...she had to look down and see the small child, so brave, so fearless, ready for such a challenge. Except all Ahsoka got was "You're a baby! You can not join!" Well, Ahsoka hardly considered herself a baby, she was a toddler. There was a difference, in case the stupid Togruta woman guarding who entered the wood couldn't tell. Sulking, Ahsoka slunk against a nearby tree, shooting the stern faced woman sharp glances. So what if the woman hated her later? The defiant child didn't care. Ahsoka was surprising herself. Did she lose herself to somebody she wasn't? It seemed she never cared these days about anything, at all, ever. Murderous hate could flow through her limbs...she could see Mai...but what if she no longer cared? The thoughts were raging and tormenting, and they ached. Ahsoka moaned to herself, not understanding the sudden fear, the sudden care of not caring, opening up beneath her. What was wrong with her? Where was that innocent troublemaker she had been? It wasn't fair! Ahsoka was so wrapped up in her thoughts, so scared, that she hardly noticed Stern Face looking at her oddly, "Child? Are you all right? Child?" Stern Face fell beside Ahsoka and pressed a hand to her forehead, murmuring, "I'll go get a doctor. I knew a sickness was going around!" Ahsoka glanced up, a sudden idea feeding her mind. She tried to look sicker and achier, so the woman would just go. Ahsoka must have done a good job, because very soon, she was alone. Well, not alone, but away from Stern Face.
Ahsoka at this point had a knack for nicknames. She called Shashone 'Silver' because of the silvery shine to her friend's favorite necklace...and it fit. But no one else really had a nickname but her. Ahsoka called herself something else when she was bored of being Ahsoka. When she wanted to rise up and be brave and be a hero that everybody loved and nobody ever thought was nothing but annoying, she called herself 'Sky'. That was it. It was silly, Ahsoka had to admit, but what can you expect from a two and a half year old?
Now Ahsoka rose somewhat shakily, throwing a scared glance back to where the woman had disappeared, and she ran. She followed the rolling, marching lines of Togruta proudly. This was her job, after all. This was what she was born for, right?
It didn't take long for the other Togruta to stop, and when they did, Ahsoka bumped into the backs of a man's knees. He turned and shot her a small, impatient look, but apparently didn't know the rules about toddlers joining in the fight. He turned back around and Ahsoka stuck her tongue out at his back. Stupid, he shouldn't have stopped so quick, Ahsoka excused herself from her obliviousness.
Her awe was hard to hide. Ahsoka tried to look grown up, or at least enough to be there, but when the first shrill roar of the Akul sounded, Ahsoka gasped with enthusiasm. Some Togruta glanced at her, their thoughts obvious. It wasn't that exciting. It happened often, that they fight an Akul. It's a part of a Togruta, any Togruta. Well, Ahsoka thought rather flippantly, maybe she was lucky that she was better than the rest, that she had more skill. Or maybe her imagination was heading into overdrive.
Ahsoka rocked to her toes, straining to see, but then, the rush of her people knocked her over, and Ahsoka was distracted by an old memory, something she tried so hard not to think about, but she did. Standing in front of her, just as shocked from a lifetime ago. Not Mai.
Aron.
Anger so strong it popped made Ahsoka step back fearfully. Did he recognize her? Did he know that she was the little girl he had heartlessly sold as a slave? Oh. Ahsoka moaned. And behind him, a young woman, her eyes trained on him, was not Mai. It was Tali, or somebody who looked very much like her mother's friend. No, that was Tali, behind her, yelling. But the woman held out a blaster and shot. Aron fell suddenly, and four people surrounded him: Ahsoka, Tali, Tali's lookalike, and...Mai. Ahsoka could only stare. A stiff cry rose in her throat, but she could not release it. She felt afraid, but...
Safe.
"Why did you do it?" Tali pounced, "Sadid, why? I told you that it was wrong. Oh, cousin." Tali sucked in her breath, in such away that meant something was going to happen, that even though everything was now fine, something had shifted, had changed. Was it? But that didn't matter now, none of it did. Mai and Ahsoka's eyes locked onto each other. Mai's silence stretched on, and Ahsoka wondered if her mother knew that Ahsoka remembered her.
In the quietest of voices, so thin and drawn, she glanced into her mother's face desperately, "Mama, I do. I do." Ahsoka repeated, wanting to rush into her mother's arms, to feel the thin, delicate finger trailing down her lekku, to see the sun rise and gleam over them, bearing hope. Bearing another day. Could that be true? Mai's arms opened and, yes, it could be true. Ahsoka ran into them and grasped Mai tightly. In her position, she saw danger again.
And she hadn't felt it. It was their forgotten Akul, his eyes gleaming yellow at his new kill. "Mama," Ahsoka struggled to pull away, "It's coming, Mama, watch out!" Ahsoka must have moved too slow, that's the well she felt it, it was her fault. And her first seed of guilt had been planted. A lie, no more, but still. It was there, and it would always remain there. Ahsoka Tano must have failed.
It was her fault.
Mai and Ahsoka, both of them, were picked up like the rag dolls, so limp and flimsy, that Madi made for her and Silver - Shashone. Ahsoka hands flailed wildly, landing on the creature's neck. And even though Ahsoka felt the peril...it was biting at her, nipping at the ends of her lekku, her face...she needed to save Mai first. That was her job. How could she live knowing that she let Mai die, that she had no hope of ever escaping Zan's terrible wrath? A life without hope wouldn't be worth living, ever. Ahsoka's hand found Mai's, and she clasped it tightly. Mai was fading, fading, into a blackness that reminded Ahsoka of the paralyzing dart. She was blacking out.
There was no way Ahsoka could save her, no way that they could return home, laughing and happy. What was Ahsoka thinking? A toddler fight an Akul? Ahsoka hissed in pain and annoyance - at herself, there was nobody to blame but her own, stupid, reckless self. If I get out of this alive, Zan will kill me instead...the possibility didn't seem so likely, with the monster using his deadly teeth to shake his two captives. Dizzy, head swarming, Ahsoka didn't realize she was flying to the ground until she landed and heard the thump! of Mai's body. Ahsoka's eyes opened and she saw the monster lurch forward and pitch to the ground, a red circle on his side. A blaster bullet. Ahsoka glanced at Sadid, Tali's cousin, but the woman was standing, horrified, at the scene.
A wail rose up Ahsoka's throat when she saw her mother. Her mother was lying, stiff and unresponsive to anything. "Child, hush." It was Tali. She lifted Mai into her arms, "She's alive, Ahsoka. She'll be okay. We have other problems, though." Tamara stood up, beckoning to two men, one holding a blaster.
Ahsoka hadn't ever seen anything like this man. He was tall...but different. He wasn't human or Togruta. What he was must have been what he claimed next, "You owe the pirates what we deserve!" He hollered blindly, "We saved the girl and the woman...we'll take our reward! Who's the father of the child?" A pirate, Ahsoka mulled to herself, another one of Mai's silly worries.
"She doesn't have a father." It was Zan, his voice mildly calm and pleasant. Ahsoka could feel him thinking...he wanted to get rid of her. Oh, that wasn't good. Not good at all. "I'm her owner. She's my slave. I must thank you, though, for saving the woman's life. She is one of our people. What would you like as a reward?" Zan's tone was mildly suggesting.
"I'll take the child." The pirate murmured to himself, a yellowy flash in his eyes, "If you permit it."
"No!" Ahsoka screamed as the pirate's arms surrounded her. Utterly repulsive. Ahsoka growled at him, baring her teeth in a predator stance, but the man smiled at her, "You'll do fine." Ahsoka didn't care how she did. She didn't care if they killed her. Eyes on Mai, Ahsoka cried out again. I failed you, Mama. I don't know if you'll live, and now I'll never know. I'm going to die, and you might, too.
Ahsoka's head dropped, her eyes on the ground. The sun was dying on the horizon, the last rays of warmth and home, hope and happiness fading into the dust.