Big thanks to Firehawk1100 for being my beta for this chapter.
Also, there has been changes to earlier chapters. Just little things, like grammar, addition of words and subtraction of others. It was mostly to better fit the novel, Dooku: Jedi Lost, in this fic. Great book by the way, recommend on getting the audible instead of a physical or e-book version. You'll find out why once you get it, which is why I have a side project for that novel that won't be released in quite some time.
The Meeting
Ahsoka could feel the addictive drug known as adrenaline pumping through her veins, barely able to keep still in her seat. The day she dreamt of for three years was finally coming into reality.
She was getting a master.
The smile she wore refused to settle, too ecstatic about the good fortune that was bestowed to her. If it weren't for this war, she would be tending to some farm on a distant planet that no one would care to remember. This war, as awful as it was for it to happen, was the blessing she prayed every day for since she was first looked over for gaining a master.
Was it wrong for her to feel grateful for a war that already claimed so many of her fellows in her Order, and many more in the galaxy? Yes, she would not deny her feelings towards this horrific war were twisted. Master D'oon was disturbed with her lack of grief and remorse when he had told the news to her and the others that were about to be shipped out.
But could one really blame her?
This was what she desired since she first laid her baby blue eyes on the temple. To be a Jedi, a force of good and all that was right in the galaxy. She could finally prove to everyone that she was not a failure. That she did belong.
The ship shook briefly when it landed. The clone troopers that she rode with all stood in unison, surprising her with their action. She never saw soldiers before, only reading about them in the texts that were available in the Great Archives in the Jedi Temple. None talked during the journey from Coruscant to Dantooine, choosing to be silent or sleep during the flight.
It was quite intimidating at first, seeing these troopers who she would be fighting along with on the battlefield. Ahsoka was informed that they were clones, DNA extracted from a Mandalorian of the name Jango Fett, the day she received her orders from Master Yoda. Even so, for some reason, she didn't think they would all look the same, despite being uncreatively labeled, clone troopers. Seeing so many of the same faces staring at her was like a nightmare she once had when she was a youngling.
She quickly got used to the unnerving sight of legions who wore the same face though. She was a Jedi, and Jedi were never afraid. Ahsoka was no longer that failure from three weeks ago who was about to be shipped out to the Agriculture Corps. That Togruta was dead, and forever with the Force.
I'm going to prove to them all I belong.
"Commander," a clone called out, startling her. "Are you okay? We landed."
Commander, a title she was less used to than Padawan. She was told by Master Yoda and other Jedi that because they were now an official part of the war effort they would need official military ranks. A Jedi had no place on the battlefield, but a commander–a commander belonged on the war-torn field.
"Yes, I'm fine, clone." She undid the straps from the seat and stood. "Thank you for worrying."
The clone gave a nod before continuing on his way. Ahsoka closed her eyes, sighing. What a great start to her first day as a Padawan.
Taking a deep breath, she took the first step towards her dream of being a Jedi. She walked down the ship's ramp, momentarily blinded by the bright sun. During her studies, she read a bit about the planet the war decided to take place on.
Dantooine was a peaceful planet, barely touched by the polluting hands known as industrial expansion. Its lands were mostly grassy plains, with a few stretches of deserts on a continent or two. The water, clear and inviting, practically daring its occupants to take a dive and swim with the bountiful aquatic life in their home.
It was a weird target for the Separatist to attack, one that she would never thought the enemy would bother in invading. True, the resources on Dantooine were still rich and ready to be mine, but they were more suitable planets for the enemy to attack. The natural resources that Dantooine carried wouldn't be helpful in keeping up with the demands in this ever resource draining war. The only thing worth noting on this planet was its now defunct Jedi temple that was used during the era of the Old Republic.
Could that be the reason as to why the Separatist chose this planet to be the latest of their attempts to defeat the Republic? Demoralized the Jedi? Show the loyal citizens of the Galactic Republic that their supposed saviors and protectors of democracy couldn't protect a planet they once called home.
Perhaps, Ahsoka thought. It was a move she wouldn't think of, and one she could believe the traitorous Dooku could commit. She scowled at the thought of that man. To think she once looked up to the man who used to lead her youngling clan.
Ahsoka took a look at her surroundings, seeing clones and military vehicles as far as the eye could see. She really was no longer on Coruscant.
"Ah, you must be the Padawan."
Her heart thump in anticipation to finally see her new master. She whipped her head to the direction the voice came from. She saw two Jedi, both male and of similar height, walking towards her. Her eyes widened at the sight of one of them, immediately recognizing their face. Obi-Wan Kenboi, a famous member of her Order and a seated member of the council.
Master Kenboi was a legend among the Order, being the first Jedi in centuries to defeat a Sith. A Sith! The ancient enemy of the Jedi, said to lay waste to every planet they land on, slain by a man who was but a Padawan at the time. Needless to say she was a big fan of his.
Ahsoka tensed at their approach, not knowing what to do or say. She was about to meet one of her idols.
Obi-Wan and his associate stopped in front of her. The infamous Jedi directed a smile her way and she felt her face heating up.
"E—evening, Master Kenboi." Why did she stutter? Jedi don't stutter. "I'm Padawan learner, Ahsoka Tano."
Obi-Wan tipped his head at her greeting. "Nice to meet you, Ahsoka. I will be your new master as of today."
Be his new Padawan? It would be a dream come true to be a student of the Sith Slayer—a nickname she and her friends thought of when they heard the news. He was the embodiment of everything a Jedi should be; honorable, kind, and patient. It would make everything she went through all so worth it if she would be under his tutelage.
Sadly, though, this wasn't the case.
"I'm sorry, Master, but I think there is some confusion," Ahsoka respectfully began. "Master Yoda said I will be learning under a Jedi named Anakin Skywalker."
"What?!" Obi-Wan's associate yelled.
And I guess he's my new Master
Ahsoka looked at Obi-Wan's associate, and apparently, her new Master. He was an inch or two taller than the notorious Jedi friend of his, wearing a darker shade of the Jedi robes she was used to seeing. His hair was brown and straight, reaching just under his ear lobes. It was a bit on the curly side on top, giving a bit of a youthful aura to the strong faced man. His left hand was gloved, reaching up half-way up his forearm.
Odd, she thought. Perhaps he was left handed and it made his grip more firm?
"I'm assuming you're Anakin Skywalker, then?" She smiled at him, bowing. "I hope you will take good care of me, Master."
"No way!"
Ahsoka still. Panic clenched her heart, digging its anxiety infested claws into it, flooding her veins with the toxic called fear.
"I'm not going to be a Master," Anakin said, animatedly moving his arms in a X. "I hate younglings, and besides, you look a bit too old to be a Padawan."
Anger spiked. Hands clenched into fists. She actively had to bite her tongue so she wouldn't explode on him like she did to Master D'oon.
There is no emotion, there is peace.
She took a calming breath, easing the rage she felt within. Always refer to the code, she was taught. Just like the Force, the code would always be your guide, giving hints so that one could make the right decision, not the rash one.
"I was a late bloomer," Ahsoka said, her voice even.
"Great," he scoffed.
Anakin closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. He shook his head, sighing.
Opening his eyes, he said, "Look, kid, you might as well get back on that transport and go back to the temple. I'm not being your master."
The blood in her veins suddenly ran cold, as if it was snap-frozen like the waters on Ilum when night came. It felt like someone was using the Force, choking the life out of her.
It was happening again. Even in war, where everyone was needed, people didn't want her. No one ever wanted her.
"Anakin, don't you think you're being a tidbit overdramatic," Obi-Wan said, crossing his arms. "I always said you would be a good teacher. This could be a great opportunity for you."
Anakin snorted, rolling his eyes. "You wanted another Padawan, not me. I'm perfectly fine going solo."
"…Please…"
They focused their attention on her, their eyes widened at her defeated demure.
"I…I can't be left behind again," said Ahsoka. "I just can't."
Their gaze took on a pitying shade. She hated it. She hated the way they looked at her. Despised by the look of pity on their faces. But worst of all, she hated herself for begging them to accept her.
Anakin sighed. "Kid—"
"I have to be a Jedi." She looked up at them, her eyes teary but determined. "I need to be a Jedi."
"So please," Ahsoka bowed her head, refusing to meet their eyes if they said the dreaded word, no. "Please teach me, Master."
The silence was killing her. Her life was in their hands, for if she got refused one more time…
She didn't know what she would do.
Anakin let out a heavy sigh, huffing loudly. "Alright."
Her head whipped up, eyeing Anakin with a smile. "R—really?"
He pointed his finger at her, warningly. "Just until we sort this thing out with Master Yoda," he said sternly.
Ahsoka nodded vigorously. "Of course, Master. I won't disappoint you."
Anakin shook his head, sighing. "I feel like I'm going to regret this." He turned around, glancing over his shoulder. "Well, come on. I should introduce you to the 501st if you're going to be here for a while."
"Yes, Master."
She walked by Obi-Wan as she ran to catch up with Anakin. He gave her sly smile and a wink as she passed him by.
It was official. Obi-Wan was the greatest Jedi ever.
Coquer smiled at the holographic form of Trench, now an Admiral instead of a lowly mercenary captain. He was happy to see the Harch once more, albeit in a three dimensional light form. The effect didn't lessen in the slightest for his heart. It was rare for them to communicate in such a way, usually keeping contact through holomail. They were either too far to establish a point-to-point contact, or their operations' dictated mission oriented transmissions only.
He should be surprised that his mentor joined the war and sided with the Confederacy, but honestly he wasn't. The Harch lived for war, molded by its chaotic nature to what he was now. Trench craved conflict like a swimmer desired the oxygen rich air after diving.
"It seems I should be congratulating you, Coquer," Trench said, his mandibles twitching as he grinned. "You have made quite the name for yourself among the military in such a short time."
Coquer shrugged a shoulder. "It was all due to your wonderful teachings, Admiral."
Trench waved his hand, disapproving of the title he called him. "We are alone, Coquer. No need for formalities."
He smiled. "If you say so, Trench."
It still felt weird for him to refer to his mentor in such a casual manner. His droid caretakers from his youth harped heavily on giving the respect a person was due, always regard the individual with the rank or prestige they carried. Weird didn't mean unpleasant, though.
"So, my boy, are you close to Dantooine, yet?" Trench asked. "The tactical droid there reported their defeat would be imminent in two standard days if no help comes."
Coquer nodded. "I am. My fleet is only a single jump away from the planet. I'm just waiting for this Asajj Ventress before we commence with the assault."
Coquer's current assignment was an odd one. He was ordered by his superior, the Supreme Commander of Droid Armies, Grievous—or as most simply called him, General Grievous—to bring the planet Dantooine into the Confederacy fold. The battle for the planet started a little over two standard weeks ago and, if the reports were indeed factual, the Republic had so far held the advantage throughout the entire exchange.
If it was up to him, he would cut his losses and pull back as much of his men as possible. The planet didn't hold any strategic advantage, nor did it carry the natural resources they needed to supply the war effort. To him, it seemed the cyborg chose the planet just because he could.
However, now that he thought about it, the cyborg's newest act of aggression could be a terror tactic to instill fear into the hearts of the Republic with news of another planet slipped through the fingers of the mighty clone troopers of the GAR. It was a strategy that made the most sense to him, and one he approved of, but he would've conducted such an operation on a planet that was closer to the Inner Rim—really digging in the knife of despair into the enemy.
They had the momentum after all, having been the one to strike the first blood in this war. Why not test their limits and see how the Republic's so-called protectors of peace react towards a threat that knew how to fight. The legions of droids the Confederacy had were practically never ending, having been preparing for this war for well over a decade. If the general so desired, he could blitzkrieg the enemy, leaving nothing but waste in his wake as he made way to the heart of the Republic. The invasion of the city world of Coruscant would be a slow and agonizing conflict, not because the heavy defense the planet held, but because it would show the entire galaxy the age of the Galactic Republic was done, burned to ash and the mighty Confederacy of Independent Systems rising in its wake like a phoenix.
But that was just the sadistic part of Coquer's tactical brain talking again. Though he and Grievous weren't on the best of terms, he did believe in the general's ability to lead and fight wars. It took a special mind to be able to conduct so many battles at once on fronts that spread the entire galaxy, dictating where and when to strike and who should be the one to lead the assaults.
"You should be careful around her, Coquer," Trench warned. "I have worked with the woman once, and she is much like your master, Dooku."
And that was the second thing that made his assignment to take Dantooine odd. Asajj Ventress.
Coquer tried to look through the CIS database for the woman, but nothing came up. The woman was a ghost, an enigma that he wished to solve. The only information he had to go by was the hearsay of others.
Assassin. Enforcer. Manipulator. Witch.
These labels were thrown about when Asajj's name was spoken. They were no doubt conjured up by some fools who were afraid of the woman, but like the folktales regaled to children to lull them to sleep, there was a hint of truth in them.
When scouring for information for the woman, he had asked Mar Tuuk if he had worked or knew anything about her. The Neimoidian told him he was once ordered to conduct cleanup for one of Asajj's operations, a simple 'get rid of the bodies and establish a base for future endeavors'. The amount of dead clones that were stacked that day was staggering, Tuuk said.
"If that is the case, I have nothing to worry." Coquer crossed his arms, a lopsided grin playing on his lips. "My Count only accepts success, and like you said, I've gain quite the reputation in the military."
Trench chuckled. "Confidence looks good on you, my boy."
"I learned from the—"
Coquer paused, breath caught in his throat. The base of his spine ran cold. Images of a woman with a chalk-white complexation swarmed his vision. Her head was shaven, and had thick distinctive purple lines running from the corner of her lips to her chin. She seemed to be sleeping with her eyes closed and her hands daintily on her knees. Suddenly, her eyes snapped open, revealing piercing blue eyes.
Coquer brought a hand to his head, nursing it while he blink away the linger effects of…whatever that was.
"Coquer, are you okay?" Even through the limitation of holoprojection, he could see the worry in Trench's eyes.
"Y—yes." He forced a smile. "Just a little lightheaded."
"If you say so…" The look Trench had said he did not believe him for a second.
He wanted to tell Trench about the weird flashes of images that plagued him, but he just couldn't. What could he say? His sixth sense—because what else would he call it—was showing him flashes of images or events that had yet to happen? That he was helpless to the strange occurrence when it happened, a slave forced to watch whatever it was showed to him?
Trench would think he was mad.
"I think I should go," said Coquer, wincing from the headache his sixth sense created. "I believe Miss Ventress is here."
Trench eyed him curiously. "How do you—"
Coquer's comlink beeped. He accepted the transmission. "Yes?"
"Commander, its Watts," the droid on the other side introduced itself. "Reporting that Asajj Ventress's ship just entered realspace and is on approach to our hangar."
"Copy, Watts. Have Rust and Lugnut meet me there."
"Roger, roger."
Coquer ended the transmission. He took a deep breath, ridding himself of the last of the negative effects of his sixth sense.
"Sorry, Admiral, but duty calls." Coquer stood from his seat, grabbing his holster and fastening it around his waist. "I'll send you a holomail as soon as I can."
The analytic gaze Trench held didn't lessened in intensity. Coquer swallowed the lump in his throat. His mentor still knew how to make him squirm from his glare alone.
"Very well." Trench's glare softened. A smile graced his stern face. "I await the news of your victory. Till we meet again."
Coquer dipped his head in respect of his mentor. "Till we meet again."
When the doors of her solar sailer opened, Ventress was greeted to a sight of a small welcoming party. Standing at a respectful distance away were two B-1 droids flanking both sides of a human boy, who had his hands behind his back and eyes that seemed to be studying her every step as she strolled down the ramp.
So that's Dooku's infamous ward.
When her master had tasked her to assist his ward in taking Dantooine, she elected upon herself to research a bit about the boy. There was barely anything, and what she had found was hardly useful. History of the young Serennian seemed to start the day the war began with the Annexation of Elom. The only thing she was able to scrounge up from her search was that he hailed from a city called Saffia on her master's homeworld and that his parents were deceased.
She was sure this was on purpose. Dooku preferred those that enforced his will to be a mystery. With a blank history, people could spin any tale about one's past. What were rumors? What were the truths? No one would know, so they must use their own imagination to fill in the blanks—ponder about the horrors that were inflicted upon you that made you able to kill without a second thought. From there, an innocent tale could transform to paranoia that would strike fear in the back of their minds when they lay their eyes on you on the battlefield.
And there was nothing a Sith could do better than instill fear.
Though Ventress was curious as to why her master chose a boy who was barely an adult to be in charge of a fleet, regardless of his status of being her master's ward. From what she could see, he looked to be around the same age as one of those pathetic Padawans that were about to be a Jedi whelp. His track record was quite impressive, that she would not deny, but he was just a boy, and what could a boy really do in the face of war?
When she approached, the child greeted her with a nod. "Asajj Ventress, I presume?"
It took all of her willpower not to roll her eyes. Who else could she be? Of course the child playing soldier would try to sound smart.
"Yes," she said plainly as she walked past him, exiting the hangar and heading in the direction of the elevator that led to the bridge.
The boy seemed taken back from her dismissive attitude. Ventress had no time trading pleasantries. Her master wanted Dantooine, for what reason, she didn't care. His wish was his command, and she refuse to fail her master like she did Ky—
She shook her head, ceasing that line of thought. The past was dead, shot and burned to a crisp in phosphorus, then dumped in an unmarked grave alongside the light she used to take comfort in. Ventress was a Sith now, and a master of the dark side had no need to feel regret.
The child caught up to her, matching her stride. She didn't bother humoring him by giving him a second of her attention. "I ordered my droids to deliver your personal effects to the stateroom you're assigned to during this mission. I can have one of them show you the way there once we hash out a plan of attack."
Ventress continued to ignore him as they entered the elevator. She could feel the frustration that was swelling in him as they traveled to the bridge. She didn't know why the boy thought she would lower herself to listen to a mere child, regardless of the success he had achieved.
"I'll make this clear, child," Ventress began, her voice clearly patronizing. "We are not friends, nor will we ever be one. My Master deemed you need extra assistance for this battle, and I could only begin to imagine why."
She felt a spike of anger from the boy. Good. The child needed to be reminded of his place.
"Ward or not, I'm his apprentice—a Sith," she continued. "And that means you will listen to me and follow orders. I'm sure you could do that much, boy."
The doors to the elevator opened, arriving at their destination. She exited out of the confinement of the metal box, strolling to the captain's chair. The droids stared dumbfounded as she took her rightful spot on the throne of the starship, crossing one leg over the other.
Ventress smirked at the boy's lack of words. "Do we understand each other, child?"
She could feel the hatred radiating off the boy like a furnace. Ventress could not but wonder how the boy would respond. Would he cry? Would he throw a tantrum at how unfair she was? She would laugh in the child's face if he contacted their master and tattle on her.
"No, I don't think we do."
Ventress blinked, stunned by the candor of his reply, and the defiant tone he carried.
"Our Lord had tasked me to lead the battle against the Republic, not you. It said a lot about your capabilities as a warrior and a tactician if he believed a child should be in charge instead of you."
Ventress scowled at the child's words. Why you insolent brat. How dare the boy talk down to her? Did he not know who she was—what she was?
"That means you answer to me, Asajj." She could hear him walking towards her. Each step he took was sharp and purposeful. "If I say jump, you will ask how high. If I tell you to run, you better start moving."
The boy walked past, now standing in front of her. His eyes, a fierce tawny shade, looked down at her like she was an ant he was about to stomp on.
"And my name is Commander Coquer, not child or boy." His voice was cold, emotionless. It was as if her master was here instead, reprimanding her for her insolence. "Now, if we understand each other—" His eyes narrowed. "—get out of my seat."
Ventress grit her teeth, threatening to grind them into dust. Ward of his master or not, no one talked to her like that—no one.
She moved, unclasping her curved hilted lightsaber from her belt as she launched at the impudent boy. Her blades sprung to life, filling the entire bridge with a blood red.
Her master would understand her action. She had seen him deal far worse punishments to those that dared to talk to him like they were above him.
The boy moved quickly, faster than she thought he was physically able to. He unsheathed his blade. The vibrorapier sang a high pitch tune through the air as he defended himself.
Foolish boy. Nothing could withstand the heat of a lightsaber, lest of all a pathetic vibrorapier.
Their blades made contact, sizzling as if it was heated metal being dipped into water. Her eyes widened, surprised that her lightsaber didn't cut through his measly weapon like paper. It was impossible.
There were very few materials in the galaxy that could withstand a lightsaber. They were hard to find, and even more difficult to procure, especially enough to create a weapon. Not even someone of Dooku's wealth could buy the scarce minerals, regardless of the legality in the purchase.
He took advantage of her stupor, using his strength to swat away her lightsabers. She took a step back to regain her footing but he was on her like an akk-wolf pouncing on its prey. His strikes were swift and sharp, refusing to give her a chance to breathe.
She was on the defensive, deflecting what she could and dodging those that would have ended her life. How could this be possible? He was but a child, and she was apprenticed to a Dark Lord of the Sith. He should be begging for her to yield and have mercy on him.
Yet here she was, at his very whim as he dedicated the flow of their dance.
Each of his actions had a purpose. A feint leads into him taking a step backwards, readying himself for her to come for the opening he gave. Barrage of strikes came from a simple deflect, leaving her breathing heavily. Even a single step forward had reason, getting inside her bubble, halting her to conduct a real counter.
The way he handled his blade seemed eerily familiar to her. From where, though? She wasn't taught any weak fighting style that civilians used as a sport or a hobby. Everything she knew was taught by Ky Narec, then sharpened to a fine point by her current master.
The two separated. Their bout barely lasted a minute, and yet here she was, winded with sweat rolling down her face. The boy looked like he barely exerted himself, standing calm and confident.
"Do you want to continue?" He tucked his free hand behind his back, sliding his right foot forward. His vibrorapier was held in front of him at a slight angle.
Her eyes widened at his stance.
"Or are we done, Asajj?"
Ventress now knew where the boy's swordsmanship seemed so familiar. It was the same as her master, Dooku. The child was utilizing lightsaber combat form two, Makashi, with proficiency on par with the Sith Lord himself. There was more though. She thought about the short exchange of blades they had, and then it hit her.
He wasn't just using form two, but also form seven, Juyo—a favorite among the Sith—as well as form three and five, Soresu and Djem So respectively. He was using all of the combat forms, with exception of Ataru, which relied heavily on the Force to amplify one's movement and agility.
He was a Niman practitioner.
Lightsaber combat form six—the way of the Rancor. Most, if not all, wielders of a lightsaber practice the hybrid fighting style, but she never saw it conducted with such ferocity and fluidity. The jack-of-all-trades combat form was intended to have little focus on bladework due to its philosophy of moderation. Coquer must have concentrated on the physical aspects of the form due to his lack of connection to the Force, since the Niman shined when utilizing Force powers while dueling.
It was supposed to be a diluted form, never fulfilling the full strength of the other combat forms. Only a few could use the form to its utmost potential. Only one that came to her mind that could accomplish such a feat was the Sith Lord, Exar Kun.
Ventress grinned. So this was why her master made the boy his ward. He may have lacked the Force, but he made it up with his intuition and creativity. A Jedi who expected an easy win against him would be in a nasty surprise.
Just like she was.
She huffed, relaxing from her stance. "I think I see enough, boy." She deactivated her lightsabers as she put them away.
"Glad you saw reason." He lowered his blade, placing it back in his scabbard. "I would hate to explain to my Count how I killed his so-called apprentice."
Ventress chuckled. Arrogance at its finest. "I shall listen to your orders for this battle, but…"
She walked towards him, taking slow measured steps. She stopped in front of him, grinning as she stared into his eyes. He was taller than her, about the same height as Dooku, perhaps an inch or so taller than the Sith himself.
"If you ever talk to me like that again—"
Her hand moved like lightning, grabbing his cheeks, applying all of her strength as she squeezed. Her blue eyes narrowed into thin slits as she glowered at him.
"—I will kill you, Coquer."
If he was in pain from her nails digging into his skin, he didn't show it. "I like to see you try, Asajj."
Author's Note: So end couple finally meet one another, as well as Ahsoka getting one step closer to achieving her dream. Tell me what you think of this bad boy.
Sorry it's been awhile since I updated. After talking to my beta, he suggested I should explored the battle of Dantooine more, which means more chapters I had to write. That being said, I finished the five chapters after this mini arc(consists of three chapters in total). So it should be a smooth updating process for the time being.
Till Next Time