The Force was a precarious thing, not something that one could be exactly trusting of. One moment things were looking all right, except of the terrible worry of Padmé, but that, to Anakin Skywalker, was everlasting. He could ignore the fateful feelings he always suffered for the beings he loved; Obi-Wan, Padmé, their child, Shmi, and somehow, somewhere along the line, he came to love his apprentice. He wasn't sure of how it happened – all he originally knew was that he didn't want one, and Ahsoka was no difference.

She was annoying, she was reckless, and she was overconfident, but she was eager. She was compassionate. She was understood him, in her own way. As Padmé did. She held her head high, and she fought and learned well. Somehow, she had secured her place in Anakin's heart, forever to remain there. He hadn't understood the last few weeks for her, her eyes looked so pained. Like she was being torn in two. But it made him hurt to see her so distressed, so sad. Anakin had tried to help, to get her to converse at Dex's, but had seemed unreachable. Anakin desperately wanted to reach her, and make things the way they were.

So it was only natural to search for her when she disappeared, to want to find her. Yet trying to balance out his tremulous feelings to save Padmé, and trying to locate Ahsoka, he knew he was failing at finding her…but there was some part of her – she was out there – saying she was all right, that she would come back to him, if only he would remain there for her. Anakin hardly believed it, yet the Force was so elusive. He got no direct answer, so he only worried.

But sometimes, late at night, he wondered if his apprentice had run away. If she had given up trying to cope with the terrible pain that he knew burdened her. He should've fixed that…he knew she had to come home. Was their bond weaker? Was he a failure to her? But in a faint connection to the young Togruta, he heard a dim murmur; I'm trying to come, Skyguy. Wait for me…wait…please…don't…go.

Anakin tried, and he would be there for her. But maybe…maybe she'd have to get used to a new life. Surely she could restructure her dreams – surely she could dwell in the existence of the Sith. Possibly. And Anakin hoped his wife could, also. Padmé could be difficult, though. She was willful, as was his Padawan. And he would run herself straight into danger whether he liked it or not. And as Anakin well knew, she would not be one to willingly walk the Sith's path. Anakin groaned and put his face in his hands.

As he raced back to the Temple, his stomach clenched as he thought of what he was doing. He was destroying his only hope of saving her. Padmé. His eyes closed briefly as he imagined her ivory skin, her soft brown eyes, her sweet-smelling hair that fell in ringlets around her gently curved face. Ambition surged, but doubt held him back. Betrayal would be costly, especially if she resisted. Or Ahsoka…

He needed them, all of them, as he needed air to live. He couldn't live with himself if he let them pass out of this life. So many times had he seen Ahsoka nearly fall into the Separatist's hands. So many times had she nearly died, her life just hanging by a small thread.

The anxiety hurt him; it was in his blood, running through his limbs constantly now. Every single minute he was not doing what he should be doing – finding his Padawan, and saving Padmé. Because Palpatine's whims didn't seem right. He felt like, maybe, he was walking right into a trap, and in the end, nothing good would be to offer. But why would the man who had cared for him so deeply want to trap him? Most definitely his affection couldn't be a trap; it was too genuine. But something felt wrong.

Maybe, Anakin remembered, it was because it was the Sith who had caused those blasted dreams. Those dreams that had sent her writhing to the ground, which had nearly killed her. Why would the Sith want her dead?

The Sith are evil. They hate all Jedi, and they seek to destroy them. Palpatine could make an exception. Couldn't he?

Or maybe this felt wrong because…because they were dictators, they lived on power. They influenced beings into terror, and they killed them mercilessly. He couldn't be like that. How could one murder, but also save?

And after Anakin had exclaimed his trouble to the Korun Master Windu, he felt that same doubt washing up on his heart. What was he doing? But Palpatine – Palpatine had to be good.

Padmé.

Ahsoka.

Obi-Wan.

And a gentle whisper, words from so long ago, echoed in his chest, Even stars burn out. A dragon, one that he could never master, roared defiantly from his heart. Anakin's feet moved to the Council room, tears welling in his eyes.

Well. Maybe it was time he stopped that. Maybe it was time the Chosen One did something right. But the question was; was it?

And so another argument in his mind began.

Ahsoka's eyes drifted back to the woman in the other room, near unconsciousness, and Bane. She had killed him...but at least it wasn't what Anakin had just done. Whilst she had thought her actions terrible, he had just done something that seemed a million times worse.

He was listening to the Sith. And so realization was dawning in her mind, everything clicking into sense. Palpatine, it was Palpatine...she had always suspected, but never pursued him, never really believed that the Republic was being led by a traitor...no, she denied it could be possible, and now look where they were. They were all going to die, there was nothing she could do...Ahsoka's mind reeled. Her thoughts couldn't settle, they just tossed around.

"Ahsoka. Ahsoka!" Cala squeaked, pointing behind them. Pale green eyes met Ahsoka's brilliant sapphire ones, and Yashaka stepped out of the darkness. Ahsoka fingers brushed against her lightsabers, but she wondered if it would be more painless to die by someone's hands who wasn't close to her. But the woman didn't lift her blaster.

Stray strands of hair fell in her eyes, her hands held dejectedly by her sides, "I never meant to hurt him." She whispered, "Go home, get out of here." She turned away, kicking the metal on the floor of the building. Stunned, Ahsoka could only stare at Yashaka's retreating form.

Ahsoka took Cala on an old discarded speeder which hardly seemed as though it might possibly hold up for the duration of their ride, and they raced through the underbelly of Corusant.

Ahsoka could feel Jenx in the Force, brilliant, like a shining beacon. He seemed to gather up the Force and use it like rope to pull her to him. Did he know she had been captured? Ahsoka winced; she hoped not. That was the last thing she wanted. He'd be in misery for weeks as he thought of his young daughter, massacring innocents.

Cala, body still disoriented, was sluggish and quiet. She breathed slowly, her amethyst eyes heavy as she snuggled against Ahsoka's torso. The older girl murmured softly, "Sh, it's okay. We'll be alright."

The little one squirmed and looked accusingly up at the Padawan, "Liar. You don't believe it. Your afraid." She seemed rather delighted to have felt something – anything- like that in the Force. Ahsoka scowled darkly at her in response. That was about the last thing she wanted. A little six year old knowing she was troubled. Especially when she needed to be brave, needed to keep her wits about her.

"Well." Ahsoka replied mildly, "You win. You'll be alright." Ahsoka flung the speeder quickly around a corner, shuddering at how fast she was going and how close that building was.

"No." Cala disagreed in the same mild tone, "I won't with you driving." She hesitated, and when she spoke, she sounded wary, "'Soka. For real. Why won't you be okay? You have to. I need you."

Her eyes drifted closed, but Ahsoka carefully slowed the speeder and lifted her, feeling the softness of Cala's cheek on her lekku. "Cala, if I can't come back, Jenx will be here for you. And don't worry, I fully intend on coming back." The little girl hadn't appeared to hear; she seemed to have fallen asleep on Ahsoka's shoulder. Ahsoka smiled softly as shifted positions and walked up the front steps.

Before she could even knock, the door flung open, and Ahsoka stifled a gasp as she met the bright green eyes that she had come to know as Jenx's. She had never thought of the older man as eccentric, and doubted she ever would, but he looked exhausted now. Almost as though he was casting that impression. "Jenx?" Ahsoka could hardly speak. The words caught in her throat as her eyes traveled down the man's rugged face.

"Up to mischief." He muttered cautiously. "Ahsoka Tano, what's going on? I can see it on your face." His arms crossed in that telltale you-can't-fool-me way, and Ahsoka frowned, her lips turning downwards.

"Can you take her and watch her while I'm gone?" Ahsoka asked, thinking that perhaps the most blunt way was probably best.

Jenx's eyebrows knit together in confusion, but he accepted the sleeping Togruta child. The girl's head lulled against his shoulder, "But the Temple -."

Ahsoka growled, not even noticing the feral disposition she held herself in. She merely turned away from him. "The Temple isn't safe for a child. Jenx, please keep her safe for me. I promised…if I don't return, keep her alive." Ahsoka turned back around and gazed pleadingly, mockingly, into Jenx's eyes. She brought an orange hand across Cala's cool forehead, and the tiny child let out a small sigh in her sleep.

Jenx's green eyes flashed anxiously, "Ahsoka, don't go. Don't do this to yourself." Ahsoka faced the Temple once more, and she felt his warm hand on her shoulder, asking for her to never go back.

The Togruta bowed her head, lekku pale, face ashen, "I can't stay. It's my destiny, I suppose. My fate? Let's hope not." With that, her flexible body coiled up and flipped through the air. The red and orange blur took off into the night.

When Ahsoka reached the worn, marble Temple steps, her vision blurred as she gazed at the immaculate building. Moments – mere moments – after Anakin had made his decision. Ahsoka felt it blossom through her chest as she imagined her Master, the man she looked up to, leave her. Her eyes stung with unshed tears as she looked around. He had yet to arrive, yet to begin the savage massacre.

But he was coming…Ahsoka felt his approaching steps, along with so many more. She felt her heart leap into her mouth as she pulled herself into a ventilation shaft in such a way so that she could watch. When her master – she still couldn't call him her former master – went left, she quickly scuttled after him.

So she was in denial that he would even think about murdering the Jedi – that maybe he'd stop and realize what he was doing. That it was Palpatine who tried to kill her. But he had spent so long fretting over Padmé. What was it?

But then he ran the lightsaber through the chest of a Jedi apprentice, a tiny child who stood in the Council room, "Master Skywalker." The child had said, fear evident in his voice, "There's too many of the them. What will we do?" And Anakin's blue blade ignited so that the boy stepped back in shock. Ahsoka could hardly swallow the urge to cry out for the young boy's life.

It was then that Ahsoka felt the wet trails of tears on her cheeks. As Master and Padawan, they had been through so much together. How could it end now? As each child in the room was murdered, Ahsoka felt her heart being torn in two. She could never follow this killer. Did he remember her, or was he in denial of her very existence?

He exited the room, warily looking down the hall and slashing through the torsos of many more children. Ahsoka somersaulted out of the ventilation shafts when he passed their room, his eyes locked on it with sorrow. He continued the march, but with no clones following him. Ahsoka slipped into her room and crept over to her bedroll slowly. She slid own hand under and came out with some HoloImages – ones of her and Anakin on a careless training mission, her eyes rolling at his frantic expression of anger in one, both smiling in another. And, of course, another of Ahsoka with a glass of water in hand, slowly spilling over his brown locks. The Image was frozen in Anakin's expression of shock, and Ahsoka erupting into surprised giggles. Ahsoka hardly realized she was smiling and cry at the same time as she looked over her forbidden possessions.

There was too much pain in her heart to even think straight. Ahsoka slipped the Images into her belt casually, her face developing into a mask of anger. She exited the room and leaned on her doorframe, staring hard at the savage's back. "You missed a room." She snarled, voice cold as though frozen in Hoth.

Anakin's yellow eyes, feral and hot, spewing with anger, locked onto his Padawan. For a moment, they softened, "Become my apprentice." He hissed, silent, the man becoming the dragon.

Ahsoka couldn't do that. She could never go against them like this. She was Ahsoka Tano. Now. Forever. "Never."

Okay. I never left an AN last week, so...

This is almost finished. There are about three chapters left (I'm guessing. If I stop where I was going to, and unless I don't add anything) I'm still planning on a sequel. :) And I made it so Cala could live. :D