A huge thanks to Firehawk1100 for looking over this chapter and for this mini-arc. I hope this long chapter makes up for the long wait.
The Resolute
'The Negotiator', a moniker Obi-Wan had gained during his continued tenure as a Jedi. He enjoyed the nickname the people of his Order gave him. Better than the name the younglings bestowed on him when news of his deeds on Naboo reached Corscuant.
As one would've guessed, diplomacy was his forte, both in the ways of words and, as his good friend, Padme, kindly called it, aggressive negotiation. Before the war, he was usually sent when tensions were at the highest with the involved parties, the Republic not wanting a war to sprout within their own systems—the irony. Now with the Clone Wars, he was ordered to go wherever the Republic deemed necessary where an arbitrator ensured their interests were met, especially for disputes as heated as Dantooine was.
Unfortunately, it seemed he won't be able to broker a favorable outcome for the Republic today.
"General," his adversary greeted as he entered the room.
Obi-Wan's face became taunt, but he forced himself to emote a friendly face. Usually it wasn't difficult for him to be forthcoming with his host, regardless of who it might be and how he felt towards them. This particular host, though, was different.
"Commander Coquer," Obi-Wan replied. He looked at him, from head-to-toe. "You are…much younger than I originally perceived."
Coquer was a ward of Dooku —the former master of the deceased Qui-Gon Jinn. In a way, they were like cousins, or more accurately, Coquer an uncle, and he the nephew. If Dooku had stayed in the Order, remained following the ways of the Jedi, then Coquer and he would share a similar relationship to what he had with Anakin—brotherhood.
But the Serennian strayed from the path, became disillusioned with the tenets of the Order that raised him since birth, succumbing to the dark side after the death of his wife. Now, Obi-Wan was forced to gaze at another poor soul the Sith manipulated to do their horrid deeds. A soul too young to realize his own actions.
"I get that a lot," Coquer remarked, tightly.
Obi-Wan suppressed a wince, mentally noting to not mention the Coquer's young age again.
"Sit, General," Coquer said, gesturing to one of the two empty chairs in the room. "You can get comfortable as you signed the terms of your surrender."
Seems it's time to live up to my name.
"About that, Commander, there's one thing I would like to discuss about for these terms you sent us."
Obi-Wan walked to the chair and was about to sit in it until stopped by Coquer's outstretched hand, blocking him to take another step forward. Instinctively he reached for his lightsaber, intending to ignite it, slipping into Form three to defend himself for the surprise attack, but, sadly, he was without his blade.
He couldn't go to meeting about his own surrender carrying weapons, now could he? He was pleased to see that Coquer had done the same, bereft of the vibrorapier and blaster he had seen him toting on the battlefield.
"The terms I sent are unconditional," Coquer said evenly, dropping his arm to his side. "The only reason you even draw breath is because of the heritage of my people. Don't mistake my sense of honor to be that of weakness, General," Coquer spat, narrowing his eyes at him.
Oh yes, the honor-centric culture of the Serennians.
Obi-Wan was made specifically aware about the ways of those who resided on Serenno. Mostly due to Qui-Gon's master was a Serennian, and Obi-Wan's deceased master elected upon himself to teach him their ways, harping to never offend one.
"I would never disrespect the ways of your people, Commander," Obi-Wan assured, tilting his head down, staring straight at the floor. "I have of the utmost respect to your people's culture."
His hands overlapped each other on his chest, the tips of his thumbs touching as he bowed slightly. A pang of shock rippled in the Force, coming from Coquer, giving Obi-Wan a moment of pause.
He was conducting the standard movements of one born as a commoner apologizing to one who was a noble. He was sure he executed the actions with no errors, having the conduct etched in his mind during his early years as a Padawan under Qui-Gon.
A thought crossed his mind, one that he believed could explain Coquer's surprise.
No one treated him like a noble, not even Dooku.
A ward of a count, regardless of the birth of individual, was still considered to be that of nobility. At least, from what he was taught by his deceased master and what he read in the archives. Had the ways of Serenno changed since Dooku left the Order to be with his wife?
"Raise your head," Coquer ordered, losing all the calmness in his voice, sounding more like his actual age. "You…didn't have to do that."
Obi-Wan did as he was instructed. "I'm sorry, did I performed the apology wrong? Like I said, Commander, I meant no offense."
"You didn't," Coquer stated in a whisper. "That's how one would apologize to a noble."
The commander shifted his gaze downward, muttering something under his breath. Obi-Wan looked at him, concerned. The boy in front of him was no longer an enemy soldier, but a child with great turmoil in him.
Obi-Wan opened his mouth, preparing to question Coquer what troubled him, but the teenager beat him to the punch.
"These terms you wanted to discuss," Coquer said, slipping the mask of a warrior upon his face once more. "Which part you find disagreeable?"
I guess it's back to business then.
"The part where my fellow Jedi and I become prisoners of war," he answered.
Coquer's eyebrow curled up at the response. "And how is that unfavorable? We are at war with one another. Taking prisoners is standard practice," he said as matter-as-of-fact. "I even let your clone troopers be free to return to your forces."
Obi-Wan grimaced. What Coquer said was the truth. Prisoners of war were standard occurrence that was getting more frequent with each passing day in this conflict. But, someone as young and new to the worlds of being a Jedi, don't deserve to experience what being in chains felt like, however long the shackles might be on them.
"Then, how about letting one free?" he offered.
Coquer blinked. "One?"
"Yes, a Padawan of my friend. She is young, around your age I presume, and this was her first battle in this war. She is still naïve to the way of the galaxy and—"
"If she decided to fight in this war," Coquer interrupted. "Then it sounds like she was ready for the consequences. Probably one of the better outcomes a soldier could get in these times."
"But she's not a soldier, she's a Jedi—a young woman who spent three years of being ignored by her superiors until now."
That seemed to catch Coquer's interest based on how intensely he gazed at him. "Ignored?"
Obi-Wan sighed. It was one of the things he disliked about the Jedi Order. He understood the need of placing those whose potential wasn't at a certain caliber out of harm's way, he just wished the council advertised that the Service Corps wasn't a place where they placed the "unwanted" at. If it weren't for Qui-Gon Jinn arriving on Bandomeer like he did, then he would still be in the Agriculture Corp, wasting his life away, wondering what could've been.
"Just like your people have their ways, so do mine," Obi-Wan said solemnly. "Some I don't necessarily agree with."
Coquer didn't say anything. He just continued to gaze at him, like he was reading his soul through his eyes.
Abruptly, the commander winced, crouching on one knee, grunting in what sounded like pain. Obi-Wan was immediately on him, planting a hand on the teenager's back.
"What happened?" His eyes searched for any injuries on Coquer's body. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," Coquer grunted through clenched teeth.
The teenager was definitely not fine. It was like the boy all of a sudden suffered a head-splitting migraine. In fact, Coquer's current state reminded him of an incident back when he was a youngling in the temple.
During the mundane days of training to be a Jedi, a youngling in his clan suddenly keeled over, crying in pain. It shocked him to the bone, and Obi-Wan could still hear the high-pitched wails if he let his mind wander too far. The Knight who was conducting the lesson that day sprang into action, placing their hands on the youngling's temple, soothing the child with the Force.
Obi-Wan later learned his fellow Jedi experienced a vision, gaining a more intense version of the Force ability, Precognition. There were some children of the Force who received a more a harrowing connection to the ability. The most famous one being, the late Sifo-Dyas, who was said to actually feel what occurred in the visions that came to him sporadically.
Obi-Wan froze. An awful thought crossed his mind.
Could Coquer had experienced a vision?
"Information."
Obi-Wan blinked, taking himself out of hypothetical thoughts. He looked down at Coquer. "What?"
"If you give me information, you and your two Jedi friends could return to the Republic."
Coquer swatted his hands off of him. The commander stood, his legs shaking, refusing any assistance from him.
"We have deal or what?"
"Depends on the information," he said, mentally cursing at himself for looking at a gift horse in the mouth. "I won't divulge Republic secrets."
Coquer closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. The agony stricken face he held gradually washed away. By his second breath, there was no evidence he was ever in pain.
"Your concerns is valid, General, but unwarranted," said Coquer. "I want to know about the Sith."
Obi-Wan was at a complete loss of words. He was expecting the commander wanted information about future military operations. He knew he would've requested such intel himself if the roles were reversed.
"The Sith?" Obi-Wan asked for clarification.
"Yes," Coquer affirmed, nodding. "Everything you know about them. Their history, their culture, how they operate—everything."
"Why?"
That was one thing Obi-Wan didn't understand. Why did Coquer desired to know about the Sith? If Coquer was the ward of Dooku, then he should already be privy to any information pertaining to those who devoted themselves to the dark side.
"If you don't mind me asking, that is," he quickly added.
Coquer stayed silent, and Obi-Wan could tell the commander was mulling over if he should reveal the reasoning on his decision.
"My Count once uttered the word when I was young," Coquer finally said. "And my second also called herself Sith."
The woman who Coquer was referring to as his second, had to be Asajj Ventress. She was a known accomplice of Dooku, and many in the council believed she was his apprentice.
"I wish to know more about my Count, is all," Coquer said. "So, we have a deal, General?"
Simple non-damaging information in exchange of himself and his associates no longer bound to a prison where they would no doubt be tortured on a daily basis. It was a beautiful deal if he ever heard one.
"We have a deal."
There shouldn't be any harm in explaining the history of the Sith to someone like Coquer. It wasn't like he carried a connection to the Force.
Ventress and Coquer stood side-by-side inside one of the watchtowers that was in one of their forward operating bases, gazing down below, making sure everything was going smoothly.
B-1 battle droids were herding the clone troopers of the Republic into multiple designated zones, where they met B-2s who made sure the troopers stayed put, their wrist blasters aimed and ready to fire at a moment's notice. Vulture droids were in their ground form, providing overwatch to further deter the clones from attempting an idiotic revolt. In the center of it all were the three Jedi adversaries Ventress and Coquer fought during the campaign.
The Jedi were cuffed and shackled to each other, trapped inside a portable ray shield that wasn't destroyed even during the many tough battles waged on Dantooine. Coquer knew how imaginative a Jedi could be, and erred on the side of caution when laying out the terms of surrender for the Republic to agree to.
Surrender. Just thinking about the word made Ventress frown in frustration.
Ventress crossed her arms over her chest, sneering as she glanced at Coquer. "This is a mistake," she criticized. "We should've executed them all, especially the Jedi."
Coquer didn't even bother to humor her, having his eyes trained on the busy field, ignoring her completely. Now that he gained victory over their foes, he seemed to think that he was better than her—either keeping her out of the loop of operations or ignoring her entirely. She wasn't even allowed inside the same room where Obi-Wan and he discussed the terms of surrender, forced to be outside with Anakin and a Jedi whelp like she was a peasant.
Ventress growled at being disregarded yet again, irritated about his attitude, or rather, how justified it was. She despised herself having to admit it, but this victory could only have been achieved by a small list of individuals. A list she begrudgingly couldn't put herself on, regardless of how confident she was in her abilities.
Discounting her feeling of resentment and bitterness towards the boy, she could acknowledge the child's tactical mind was indeed a gift that many would wish to have. To command military forces that were both in the sky and on the ground, was a feat only the most experienced tactician could do. She could tell how straining it was for him, juggling two conflicts at once. One being completely three-dimensional, and the other containing thousands of moving pieces.
It had cost them a few battles, his lapses of attention. In the end, though, he powered through the hardships that were stacked against him, forcing the enemy's naval forces to retreat, leaving the ground forces helpless to the slaughter they were about to experience.
But the slaughter never came, not fully anyways.
Ventress huffed, returning her eyes back to the shepherds that were herding the sheep in the base. "Our master will not be pleased with your decision when he hears of this," she warned. "The death of a Jedi means one less obstacle we need to cut down."
At the mention of their master, Coquer's face immediately turned sour. One of his hands balled into a fist, and she heard guttural sounding huff from him.
"Unlike my Count," Coquer spat. "I'm a Serennian who respects my culture and does not stomp on everything that makes my people what they are."
Ventress grinned, amused about Coquer's change of demeanor. Since he'd been ignoring her as of late, she almost forgot about the discovery she'd made. Whenever someone talked, or even mentioned her master, Dooku, around Coquer, the air around the boy changed, and in her opinion, for the better.
She couldn't find the right word to describe Coquer's change of conduct. Cold was the first thing that came to her mind, but she had seen cold, experienced it firsthand. To label the boy as such would disrespect Dooku to the highest degree, and her master deserved respect.
Her limbs jerked almost spastically once the lightning ceased coursing through her smoking body. Smell of her own burnt flesh wafted in her nostrils, sticking to the back of her throat, making her actually able to taste the charred stench. The odor made her stomach churn and flip, eliciting her to puke a small food-and-blood mixed bile on to the metallic steel-gray floor. Fluttering eyes vigorously fought against the unconsciousness that was attempting to swallow her, refusing to be awaken by Sith lightning again.
"Get up," Dooku demanded, his regal voice even, unperturbed by the state he placed her in.
She tried to move but her body refused, shouting in protest of her attempting to raise even a single finger.
All she felt was pain and agony, deeply wishing for Dooku to just end it already with his crimson blade, sending her to the Force where she would be reunited with her father.
"I said…" Dooku thrust a hand outward, sending another volley of Sith lightning at her. She squirmed and screamed from the dark side potent-electricity wreaking havoc through her body.
"Get up," he demanded, stopping the onslaught. "I will not ask again."
Yes, death. Please grant her that mercy. Please end the suffering.
No.
She grit her teeth, her body trembling as she made to stand. She wanted this, needed this. To become Sith meant pain, and pain was power, and with that power, revenge would be hers.
The frown Dooku wore didn't disappear once she was standing. The glare he held still screamed the urge to murder her.
"See the medical droid to heal your wounds," he said acidly, scowling. "And don't lie to me again, Ventress."
Her heart felt like it was in his hands, squeezing the very essence out of it. She swallowed her fears, hoping this time it would dissolved in her stomach.
"Y—Yes, Master."
Ventress shook her head, ridding herself from that dreadful memory. She could still vividly remember the iron taste of blood in her mouth when she had bit her tongue in an attempt to stifle her cries.
Yes, her master deserved respect, and nothing less.
She glanced at the boy, pondering about her earlier thought. Now that she thought about it, when they clashed blades when they first met, Coquer's behavior resembled much of Dooku's. The even voice, betraying the seething hatred that was under each articulate spoken word. The glare that said they were superior to you, and dared you to prove them otherwise.
Perhaps the two had more things in common than what she originally believed.
A dastardly thought crossed her mind, and a grin touched her lips to show how pleased she was with it. She knew exactly what would make her and the boy even.
"You said you're unlike him," Ventress began, dropping her arms, leaning against the railing. "But only someone ruthless as him could do what you did."
Coquer grimaced. "Shut up."
"How many do you supposed you killed, hmm?" She eyed the clones below, making a show of counting them with her finger. "Hundreds? Thousands?"
"Shut up."
She laughed. "Now that I think about it, I believe Dooku would be delighted with what you did here, using a tactic that had not been used since the New Sith Wars."
Coquer grabbed the railing, clenching his eyes shut as if he was suffering from the most agonizing of torture. "Shut. Up."
"I could even praise your actions to him, if you wish," she offered, nonchalantly. "He might just forgo your title as ward and adopt you as a real son."
Coquer whipped his head to her, snarling with his teeth bared. "I said shut up!"
A feral grin spread across her lips, thrilled with his outburst. She could feel the anger pouring out of him, desiring nothing more than to cut her down where she stood. Her hands were already inching closer to her lightsabers, ready for his violent reaction.
A reaction that sadly didn't come.
He closed his eyes, his shoulders slouched. Just like that, all of his hostility evaporated. "Just please, stop…"
He opened his eyes, revealing they were on the verge of crying. Ventress was taken back from this. She was ready for anything. Heated words and curses, an attack from his vibrorapier—even a more personal touch, launching at her with his bare hands, aiming to strangle her.
But him pleading for her to stop; that was something she could never have foreseen.
"Please," he begged, a tear trailing down his cheek.
"Asajj."
Ventress winced, nursing her head, feeling as if someone was trying to split her skull open with a hammer.
An unnerving blend of chuckling and thunderous sounds of a walker moving bombard her ears. A voice spoke in a soft, yet firm tone, whispering her given name, silencing the other blaring noises. The voice filled her with confidence, exhilaration, and warmth.
No, not warmth. It felt more intimate than that—more personal.
"Ventress." She felt his hand on her shoulder. His voice carried actually concern for her. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," she barked, shaking his hand off.
Once the throbbing pain subsided, she eyed Coquer, and a sensation she had not felt since the passing of Ky consumed her: guilt.
Why was she experiencing such an emotion? She had no need to feel remorseful of her actions. The pompous boy deserved it, acting like he was her better, patronizing her whenever he could. And yet, seeing him, hurt and with watery eyes, she could only feel regret in what she did.
"I…" Ventress sighed, closing her eyes. When she opened them again, she stared at him, clearly annoyed. "I'm sorry, Coquer. I shouldn't had said that."
She felt like throwing up as the apologetic words left her mouth. Sick wouldn't begin to describe what she was feeling. Thankfully, the abnormal sensation vanished, leaving no lingering effects.
Ventress frowned, irked at the child's gawked expression. He looked at her as if she'd grown a second head.
"What?" she snapped. "I'm not above apologizing when I'm in the wrong, boy."
Coquer cleared his throat, getting out of his stupor. "Of course, Asajj. It's just…" A small smile welcomed his face. She preferred him frowning than his nauseating smile.
"I didn't expect it," he tittered.
Ventress rolled her eyes, crossing her arms as she cocked her hip to the side. "Whatever, and don't call me Asajj. Just because you won this battle doesn't mean you have the right to call me such."
The smile Coquer wore didn't disappear or lessened as he bowed his head. Insufferable brat. "As you wish, Ventress."
She scoffed, directing her attention towards the cloudless blue sky, done with the conversation. The boy better not think for a second they were friends now. When the opportunity revealed itself, she wouldn't hesitate to pierce him with her lightsaber, watching with a gleeful smile as life left his eyes. Just imagining that fateful day put a smile on her face.
Coquer's wrist comm beeped. He answered it, putting it close to his mouth. "Coquer."
"Sir, it's Rust," the machine introduced itself. "Watts is reporting that a ship has entered the system—a single Venator-class star-destroyer."
Coquer hummed, nodding at the information. "Tell Watts to keep the fleet on high alert, and have all weapons targeting that ship. They may seem to be following our agreement, but better to prepare just in case."
"Roger, roger," Rust acknowledged. "One more thing, sir. Count Dooku is requesting an audience with you and Mistress Ventress."
"Great," Coquer muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Very well. Ventress and I will take a transport to the Alacrity to accept the transmission. Have Lugnut prepare the prisoners for pickup."
"I will pass along the order."
The transmission ended. Coquer closed his eyes, inhaling through his nose slowly, then exhaling. He turned to her, the perfect visage of a military commander.
"We best hurry," said Coquer, his tone and expression not at all matching the raging tempest she felt inside him. "We both know our Lord isn't the most patient of individuals."
Disaster. That was what everyone was labeling the Battle of Dantooine. From the troopers in the 501st and 212th who had their boots on the ground, to the far away democratic elected officials in the Galactic Senate. The Republic had not suffered such a loss since the war first started on Geonosis two and half months ago.
Everybody wanted answers, demanding who was to blame for this defeat. Fingers were pointed everywhere.
At the Jedi, catechizing their hypocritical oath of non-aggression and their resolve to actually fight in this war. At the admirals and generals, questioning their leadership skills and years of training. At the clones, labeling them a waste of tax paying citizens' credits if they couldn't defend a planet against Coquer, a measly boy playing soldier.
Commander Coquer, ward of the former Thranta clan leader, Dooku of Serenno. Ahsoka had heard rumors about the Serennian, but didn't think they were true. After all, he was only a year older than her. How could someone as young as he be able to do so much damage? It was unthinkable.
Now they were reaping what they sowed.
Ahsoka was onboard a LAAT with Anakin, Obi-Wan, and a few of the surviving clones from the campaign. They were en-route to the Venator-class star-destroyer, the Honorable, to retreat into friendly space. They were lucky, she had heard a couple of the clones mutter in passing before she departed the planet. Based on their own experiences, if the enemy had been anyone else, there wouldn't be any survivors. A blessing they were now calling it, having been defeated by a Serennian instead of the usual scums of the Separatist.
Ahsoka had read about the inhabitants of Serenno during her studies. They were much like the Jedi Knights during the height of the High Republic era; virtuous, courageous, and most of all, honorable. They were the knights in shining armor from stories told to children. To be in favor with a Serennian said a lot of one's character.
So how could a Serennian, raised by one of the greatest Jedi her Order could produce, do such a thing as orbital bombardment? How could someone like Dooku, a Jedi who was a seated member on the council and whose numerous deeds were still being praised among those of her old youngling clan, taught such a destructive and ruthless way to engage in combat?
"Ahsoka."
She tensed at the sound of her name.
"Are you okay?" Anakin asked. "You've been quiet since we've agreed to Coquer's terms."
"Y—yes, Master Skywalker." She kept her head down, focused on her feet and the dried bloodstains on the gunship's floor. "Just thinking of what comes next."
"Next? There is no next for you."
Her eyes clenched shut, trying to tune out the ugly truth the belittling voice told.
"You will be lucky to be sent to the Service Corps. Hell, you would be lucky if they didn't decide to kick you out after the defeat you made the Republic suffered."
"Ahsoka..." Anakin placed a hand on her shoulder. "This defeat wasn't your fault. You know that, right?"
"He is right, young one," said Obi-Wan. "No one could have foreseen the enemy utilizing such a tactic while still combating with our forces in space. This loss was no one's fault."
She refused to open her eyes. Their pitying words stung worse than the tears that were creeping on her.
"Exactly," murmured Anakin, giving Ahsoka's shoulder an assuring squeeze. "The enemy was just...lucky."
There was no luck involved, strictly skills. The enemy, Coquer, was simply better than them—better than her.
They met on the battlefield a couple of times, and the majority ended in his victory. He always outsmarted her, conducting maneuvers that she never read or taught about in military history lessons back in the temple. When she thought he would go right, he would make her head spin by going up. Instead of going backwards, he dug underground and attacked her from underneath.
It infuriated her, how she could never decipher what plans he was conjuring behind those tawny eyes. How she kept losing against someone who lacked a connection to the Force. Perhaps that was why Anakin and Obi-Wan elected for her to stay in the command base during the final hours of the battle. They doubt her abilities.
"See, you know it too. You don't deserve to be a Jedi."
When she refused to give a response to Anakin and Obi-Wan, the former sighed, removing his hand from her shoulder. For the rest of the trip they traveled in silence, taking comfort in the steady hums of the LAAT engines. The gunship jerked slightly when it landed in the hangar of the star-destroyer.
The doors slid open, revealing tens of the same model of gunships landing as well, and the few with injured being hurriedly ushered out and transferred to the medical personnel of the Honorable who were awaiting for their arrival. She moved to the side, letting the injured clones who were able to walk, exit first. Anakin and Obi-Wan exited second, with her following closely behind, her head down the entire time.
"Master Kenobi, Sir Skywalker."
Ahsoka stopped in her tracks, breath caught in her throat. Her left hand shook. Her heart felt like it was being stabbed repeatedly by a freshly sharpened stiletto.
She recognized that voice, it was difficult not to, no matter how much she wished she could forget it. It was the same womanly voice that always put her down when she suffered a setback as a youngling. The same voice belonging to the first person who dismissed her as a Padawan and voted for her transferred to the Service Corps.
"Master Shilia Norsrus," she heard Obi-Wan greet the person behind the doubt-seeding voice in her head. "Pleasure to see you again, though I wish it was on better circumstances."
"As do I," Shilia admitted, her voice stern and unforgiving like Ahsoka remembered. "The council and the Chancellor are waiting for us on the bridge. They wish to have full details about the loss of Dantooine."
"See that stick up her ass is still there," Anakin muttered under his breath.
"Do you have anything you wish to say, Sir Skywalker?" Shilia prodded, her voice curt and sharp.
Through the Force, she felt a pang of panic from Anakin. "Uh," he trailed off. He quickly cleared his throat. "Yes, I do, in fact."
Ahsoka felt a hand placed against her back, pushing her forward. She almost tripped over her own feet, not seeing the act happening.
"Let me introduce you to my Padawan, Ahsoka Tano."
She felt a lump in her throat, refusing to go down no matter how many times she swallowed. Slowly, she raised her head, staring at the woman who told her she had no place in the Order.
Master Shilia Norsrus was tall, even by the standards of her species, the Iridonian Zabraks— commonly referred to as Iridonian for short. Her skin was a midnight blue, making her short violet ponytailed-style hair pop. Short stubby horns protruded out her head, surrounding her skull like it was a crown placed upon her by royalty. Her weapons of choice, a pair of tonfa lightsabers that had a silver finish, hung from the back of her hip, attached to her belt.
Shilia sharp brown eyes gazed upon her, judging her from head to toe. Ahsoka flinched when they narrowed slightly.
"You seem familiar, young one," said Shilia. "Have I taught a lesson to your clan before?"
Ahsoka avoided looking at her, gripping her trembling hand in a poor attempt to stop the shaking. "N—no, Master Norsrus."
"I see…" Her facial expression softened as she smiled. "In any case, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Padawan Tano."
Shilia shifted her attention to Anakin. "My apologies for calling you the wrong title, Master Skywalker. I didn't know you had gained a Padawan."
Anakin crossed his arms, a lopsided grin on his face. "Well, it was kinda last minute. Though we should talk about it later, we let the Council wait long enough."
"Quite," Shilia accepted, nodding.
As they made to leave, Anakin stopped Ahsoka, grabbing her by the shoulder.
"Ahsoka," he began in a hush tone. "What's wrong? You were quiet for the entire flight here, and as soon as you heard Master Norsrus's voice, you really clammed up."
"I'm fine, Master," Ahsoka assured, not even believing herself with her quavering tone of voice.
He looked forward, noticing the gap between them and Masters Obi-Wan and Shilia increasing. He released his grasp, sighing.
"I'm your master now, Ahsoka. That means, you can talk to me about anything, and I will always have your back."
"And how long would that be?" Ahsoka muttered.
She started walking forward, leaving a confused Anakin behind.
Was she acting unfair to him? Probably. But it didn't matter in the end. She knew, as soon as she saw Shilia, it was all over for her. She guessed it was poetic in a way. Her self-doubt and resentment started with the Iridonian, and now it was going to end by the Iridonian.
Anakin and Ahsoka quickly caught up to the Jedi Masters. They entered the bridge, and a Republic officer turned to them at the sound of their arrival.
The officer was a human male with short strawberry blonde hair, probably middle age or a little older based on his physique. He was a bit on the pale side, making the blue in his eyes stand out. He seemed to be one of the few officers elected to fashion facial hair, having thick, nicely trimmed sideburns with a connected mustache.
He walked up to them. "Generals," he greeted with a nod. He looked at her. "Commander."
"Admiral Kallus," Shilia replied with the same courtesy. "Is the transmission with the council still connected?"
"It is ma'am. They seem to be antsy for the debrief."
Shilia nodded, and the admiral led them all to the holoprojector of the bridge. He pressed a button, activating the machine. The hologram forms of Mace Windu, Yoda, Ki-Adi-Mundi, Admiral Yularen, Admiral Block, and the chancellor appeared before them. They greeted each other, and the post-campaign debrief began immediately.
They went through each line of the report, questioning each of the decisions made then later dissecting the reasoning behind them. The probing continued for what felt like hours for Ahsoka, with Anakin and Obi-Wan going back and forth with the council and the chancellor. Shilia chimed in every so often, offering her input. It was then that they realized a pattern. More accurately, it was Shilia that discovered it.
"Padawan Tano," Shilia began, eyeing the woman in question. "It says here you had multiple engagements with the enemy, where you recklessly charged said foes, ignoring orders given to you by your superiors."
Ahsoka sighed, knowing they would get to her sooner or later. "Yes, Master."
"And all of them against the Separatist Navy Commander, Coquer of Serenno, correct?" Shilia asked, although they both knew the answer to it.
Ahsoka had her head down, not wanting to meet the judging gazes of the others. "Yes."
"Master Norsrus," Anakin cut in. There was a bite to his voice. "Where are you going with this?"
"She thinks I'm the reason why we lost," Ahsoka answered. "And she's right."
Yoda hummed. "Something you wish to say, Padawan Tano."
She rubbed her jittery hands together, taking deep breaths. Knowing that she was the cause of the defeat was one thing, admitting it to those she admired was a lot harder than she anticipated. Her heart felt as if it would burst out of her chest at any second from the anxiety.
"I…" She took two more deep breaths. "I'm the reason why we lost Dantooine."
Anakin's eyes softened, already reaching out to her. "Ahsoka—"
"Master, please," Ahsoka pleaded, finally mustering the courage to lift her head.
The rest of the group remained silent, waiting for Ahsoka to continue, having now gained their full attention.
"Before I arrived, victory for the Republic was clear. I remembered hearing talks from the clones about preparing to leave the world in a rotation or two—the projected time frame for the Republic to win. Morale was at an all-time high, and from what Master Kenboi and Skywalker told me, they knew where the enemy commander was and were about to strike them in a few hours."
Ahsoka paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. "Then I came, and everything changed."
"I was a part of the assault to attack the commander, and wanting to prove myself, I put myself in danger that led to the enemy winning. Then it happened again." Her hands balled into fists and began trembling. "And again, and again, and again. All battles I was involved with, ended in defeat. Always by Coquer's hand, and the victories I did gain, I knew he let me win. I even lost our command post, ensuring our defeat. All due to my weakness."
"Reject."
"Failure."
Ahsoka clenched her eyes. A tear seeped through. "I know I'm a necessary act that you all needed." She opened her eyes, gazing at the hologram members of the debriefing. "But perhaps I'm really not worthy of being a Jedi."
Chancellor Palpatine tilted his head, clearly puzzled from her last set of words. "Necessary act?" He turned his gaze to Yoda. "What did she mean by that, Master Jedi?"
Yoda sighed. "She was about to be shipped out to the Service Corps. A branch of the Jedi Order where we placed young ones who are not as adept in the Force as the others." He looked at Ahsoka. "Or in Padawan Tano's case, not picked to be an apprentice by a Jedi by a certain age."
"That's where I recognize you," Shilia added, the look of revelation on her face. "It was three years ago, and you were the only youngling who performed below sub-par. I suggested to the council that they should immediately place you in the Service Corps."
"After Geonosis, we needed every Jedi to assist in the war effort," Mace explained. "We already lost so many that day."
"So, we, the council, decided to utilize those who were a part of the Service Corp to bolster our numbers," Ki-Adi-Mundi finished.
"A necessary act…" Anakin muttered under his breath.
Shilia took a step toward the projector. "Masters, Chancellor, the reason for this defeat is clear. I believe Tano should no longer be placed on the battlefield and return to the temple where she would assist Master Jocasta in the library."
Ahsoka grimaced. No longer Padawan Tano, just simply, Tano. Shilia no longer viewed her as such. No longer viewed her as a Jedi.
"Now wait a minute," Anakin interjected, his brows furrowed at the Iridonian Jedi. "You don't have the right to talk to my Padawan like that."
He took a step in Shilia's direction, but Obi-Wan quickly stood in between them, placing his hands on Anakin's chest, giving a warning look.
"Anakin," Obi-Wan cautioned, his voice stern like a father talking to a disobedient child. "Master Norsrus was only giving her opinion."
Anakin growled, and Ahsoka was shocked to see him like this. Shocked to see him defend her so passionately.
He called me his Padawan.
Anakin whipped his head to the council and chancellor. "Yes, Ahsoka acted rashly multiple times during this campaign, but wouldn't you if you went through what she did? She is a good student, and even a better Jedi. She deserves to be here, not as an act of necessity, but because she belongs."
Once Anakin was finished with his little speech, his shoulders were heaving. His eyes carried a fiery rage. Ahsoka never had anyone talk so intensely about her before.
"Skywalker, my boy," Palpatine comforted, giving a fatherly smile. "While your loyalty to your apprentice is inspiring, it is unneeded."
"He is right, Skywalker," Yoda verified. "This meeting is to discuss the outcome of the mission, not to place blame on an individual."
"O—oh, I see." Anakin's cheeks flushed red. He bowed his head. "I—I'm sorry for my outburst, Masters, Chancellor."
Palpatine waved him off. "It is quite alright, my boy. Such camaraderie is nice to see during these trying times. That being said…'' He looked at the Jedi Masters, worry across his face. "It seems this Commander Coquer is more of a threat than we original thought."
"Quite," Ki-Adi-Mundi agreed, nodding. "But that discussion is for another time. I think we are done here. Do you all agree?"
The others nodded, agreeing. One by one their hologram winked out of existence, until Yularen and Block were the last two.
"General," Yularen called out to Anakin. "The Resolute will be waiting for you at the rendezvous." He looked at Ahsoka, smiling softly. "And you as well, Commander."
"And the Neogitator is awaiting for yours and Commander Cody's return," Block said, looking at Obi-Wan. He directed a friendly smile at Ahsoka. "I hope we fight alongside one another again, Commander Tano."
Ahsoka was taken back about Block's kind words. "Uh, likewise, Admiral."
The two admirals ended the transmission, leaving the original party to their lonesome. Shilia curtly turned around, folding her hands behind her back, and started walking away.
"Admiral, please have someone escort Master Kenboi and Skywalker to their temporary quarters."
Ahsoka couldn't help to notice how Shilia didn't add her name in the order.
Kallus bowed his head. "As you wish, General." He raised his head, staring at one of the many bridge clone officers. "Clone, CT-2134, escort General Norsrus's associates to their quarters."
The clone, CT-2134, hopped into attention. "Aye, sir." He walked to the Jedi. "If you'll follow me, sirs."
They trailed after the clone, Ahsoka sparing a glance at Shilia. Ahsoka snapped her head forward upon seeing the glare the Iridonian sent her way. It might be for the best if she stayed clear of Shilia for a while.
"Master." She looked up at Anakin. "Did you mean what you said before?"
"Every word." Anakin glanced at her, grinning. "I can see now why you didn't get picked up as a Padawan for three years."
"Why?"
"Because you wouldn't have made it as anyone's Padawan's, except for mine."
A holographic Dooku stood before Coquer and Ventress, his hands tucked inside his cloak, grinning proudly. When was the last time he saw him smile, Coquer pondered. He vaguely remembered the pleased expression when the man ordered his return from Trench.
That day seemed like a lifetime ago to him now. War had a strange ability to warp one's senses of time. A day felt like weeks, and months felt like years.
And it certainly felt like he'd spent years on Dantooine.
"Congratulations seems to be in order, my ward and apprentice," Dooku praised. "My spies have reported word of your stellar victory has reached even the systems in the Core Worlds."
Ventress had her eyes closed, her head down. "It was all thanks to your teachings, my Master."
Coquer wanted to roll his eyes at the theatrics. While he stood, spine straight, hands folded behind the small part of his back, and face devoid of emotion—Ventress was on one knee, her head down as if she was a devoted follower of a religion, praying to their deity.
Was all this drama necessary? Did all those who carried the same mystical power as his father need to put on a show? Or was it simply because they were Sith, they chose to act in such a manner?
He didn't know what he was expecting when he was finally told about the enigmatic Sith, but he definitely wasn't expecting what the enemy general told him.
"The Sith are the ancient enemy of the Jedi," the Jedi general told him.
Apparently, the atrocities his father condoned, such as the custom of slavery and the death of civilians, were common practice among the Sith, and hardly the worse of offenses the "villains" conducted at the height of their power.
Was that the reason why his father was able to go to such extreme lengths in order ensure that the galaxy kept believing his son was dead? Because he was Sith? Because pretending his only child—the last reminder he had of his precious deceased wife—was stolen from him was hardly a reason to give him pause?
"He might just forgo your title as ward and adopt you as a real son."
Coquer bit the inside of his cheek, trying to suppress the sorrow and rage he felt. Those words Ventress had said stung worse than a blaster shot to the chest. He tried to not think about it, being viewed by his peers as a replacement to Dooku's deceased son. It was hard, and there were a few times he desired to reveal his identity to individuals, mainly Trench.
There was a passage about lying Coquer recalled reading when he was young.
"Lies and secrets—they are like a cancer in the soul. They eat away what is good and leave only destruction behind."
Coquer wondered how much good was left in his soul.
Dooku's dispassionate eyes flicked to him. "It seems my decision to send you was the right one. I can only think of Grievous or Trench who could achieve what you did, Coquer."
Coquer heard Ventress huffed, clearly aggravated from the acclaim he was receiving from his father. If he could have it his way, she would be the one receiving the applause, not him. He had no need of praise from a man who chose the ways of the Sith—filth whose very existence spit on the culture of the Serennians.
What could've happened to his father that made him turn his back on their people's way? Was it the death of his wife that made his last chord of virtuousness he held snap, plunging him into darkness—or could it be the boogeyman his father warned him to be prepare for, twisting his father's once noble heart into a lifeless piece of coal, using it as fuel for the inferno known as war?
Coquer wished to know the answer. The real reason behind his father aligning himself to the Sith.
"Ventress," Dooku spoke, bringing Coquer out of his musing thoughts. "Leave us. I wish to speak to our Commander alone."
Ventress raised her head, her eyes gaze upon Dooku with clear discontent of his order. "Master, I—"
"Did I grant you permission to speak?" Dooku snapped, his brows furrowed and his eyes carrying an icy shade to it.
Ventress immediately clamped her mouth shut, putting her other knee on the ground, lowering her head until her forehead touched the floor. Coquer blinked, shocked to see the brave confident woman who fought like a raging Tirra'Taka on the battlefield, reduced to a scared state. He could see her trembling, and caught a glimpse of her face, warped in what Coquer could only describe as fear.
What did his father do to make her act in such a way? Not even Trench's hard lessons of discipline had him react to anything like she was now.
"Perhaps you need another lesson of respect," Dooku mused, and even Coquer felt chills running down his spine from the menacing tone.
Ventress tensed, and Coquer swore she even stopped breathing for a second. She was like a scared child, afraid of the monsters underneath her bed. It…pained him to see her like this, much to his own disbelief.
Coquer closed his eyes, inhaling through his nose.
Ventress and he had a "special" relationship—bitter rivalry if he was being nice, and fierce animosity that would make anyone suffocate from their boiling hate for one another, if he was being honest. To say he hated Ventress would be an understatement, especially after the comment she made about his father adopting him, but not even she deserved to be treated this way.
He would be spitting on his culture if he turned a blind eye to this, and although his father's blood was running through his veins, he refused to be like him—that he vowed.
And a Serennian never went back on their word.
Curse my bleeding Serennian heart.
Coquer exhaled, opening his eyes, gazing at his father. He steeled himself for the hell he was about to unleash on himself. "My Lord, if you have anything you wish to say to me, you can do so in front of Ventress."
Dooku turned his deadly gaze to him, piercing him with its coldness. "Excuse me?"
Coquer merely blinked at the rage-filled being known as his father, praying that he didn't catch a whiff of his frightened scent. "Ventress served as my second during this campaign, earning the right to stand by my side for anything you wish to discuss."
He glanced at Ventress, seeing that she had not moved a muscle, still in that pitiful position his father placed her in with a simple scolding. Coquer sighed—if he was standing up against his father, he might as well go all the way.
Coquer bent down, grabbing Ventress by her shoulder and arm, hoisting her to her feet. She was flabbergasted by the defiant act, if her wide-eyed expression was anything to go by. Perhaps that was why he was able to lift her with no resistance—she never thought anyone would dare to defy the Count of Great House Serenno.
Dooku was fuming. Even through the limitation of military-grade holoprojectors, Coquer could see his father's face turning bright red with rage. A child could only be under their parents for so long before the adults need to realize they were their own person.
His father closed his eyes, taking a calming breath. "It seems you need to learn your place, ward." His eyes snapped open, staring at Ventress. "Apprentice, give Coquer a reminder of respecting their betters; nothing crippling."
Coquer blinked, stunned from the cold words his father said. The man was willing to go this far—hurting his own flesh and blood—to keep the charade of his son's supposed death going.
Ventress bowed her head, saying, "Yes, my Master."
Coquer turned to her, believing she had to be bluffing, putting on another one of those elaborate shows sorcerers played. She wouldn't harm him, not after he stuck his neck out for her.
When Ventress finally turned to face him, his heart sank.
The grin she wore could only be described as sadistic.
He tried to move, lunging at her to stop her from reaching for her lightsabers, but he was too slow. She simply raised her hand, stopping him in his tracks. Suddenly, she moved her hand to the left, sending him flying and crashing against a wall. Like a ragdoll, she threw him around the cramped space, hitting every little thing in the room.
He was powerless against her and her strange ability, just waiting for the beating to end. Coquer never felt so helpless in his life. Never craved more for someone to rescue him.
Trench, please make her stop.
Ventress stopped with the thrashing, hovering him in front of her. There was no remorse in her eyes, no second guessing of her actions.
Coquer gritted his teeth, glaring at her. The act seemed to amuse Ventress, grinning like she suddenly remembered a joke. It infuriated him.
Slowly, she began closing her hand, and he felt the air getting shallower with each passing second. Coquer blinked, wondering why he wasn't getting any air to his lungs. His mouth moved, trying to intake some oxygen but his lungs refused to accept it.
He started thrashing against the invisible hold Ventress had him in. His lungs burned, desperate for air, and swelled-up tears stung his eyes.
"I think that's enough, Ventress," Dooku declared.
Ventress didn't stop though, her eyes had only one thing in them; his death. Her hand inched closer to a fist, and Coquer felt another heavy amount of pressure around his neck. His eyes began to flutter, seeing the world slowly turning black.
"Ventress!"
Coquer dropped to the floor abruptly, feeling air bombarding his lungs. He hacked and coughed, breathing too much air at once. Once he settled down, he lifted his head up, staring daggers at Ventress, who had a smug grin.
"I told you, I will get you back," she said.
Rage filled Coquer—it wasn't a fiery inferno, though. It was as if a tundra blizzard suddenly formed, turning his hot anger into subzero temperature.
All the times he was angry or furious, he never felt like this, not remotely close. He felt the sensation growing, tugging him to welcome it, embracing him with open arms.
The numbing cold felt…right, like it was as normal as breathing. He felt strong, powerful, like he could do anything and no one could stop him.
Like he could take over the galaxy.
Coquer pinched his eyes shut in agony, his ears pierced by a loud screech. It was as if a banshee was beside him, screaming at the top of their lungs. Just as when he felt his ears were about to bleed, the screeching stopped, replaced by two muffled voices overlapping each other. He couldn't decipher what they were saying, only feeling lost and anxious as the voices continued to mumble.
"I now hope you will think twice before speaking out of turn, Coquer," said Dooku.
The voices ceased at the utter of his moniker, as if the voices knew that name didn't belong to him.
Was that another attack from Ventress? A way to assault him without his father knowing? Coquer had read on the HoloNet that their mystical powers could affect one's mind.
He strained looking up, his body aching in pain. He stared at Dooku, hoping to see a hint of regret from the order he issued.
There was none.
"Commander," Dooku started. "I hope you heal soon enough for your first meeting on the War Council."
And with those final words, Dooku ended the transmission, leaving Ventress and Coquer alone in the room. Ventress started making her way out, not giving a second glance at the injuries she inflicted on him.
"Ventress!" Coquer bellowed, growling like a spine-wolf.
Ventress stopped at the entranceway, the hatch opened and ready for her to walk through. She looked over her shoulder, peering down at him, eyeing him like he was a nuisance.
"Next time I see you," he seethed. "I will kill you."
She threw her head back and laughed, shaking her head in clear amusement at his promise.
And a promise it was. He would not stop until her lifeless corpse was at his feet.
Ventress smiled at him, her blue eyes glinting brightly in the shadow she cast. "I'd like to see you try, Coquer."
Palpatine had his eyes closed, smiling ear-to-ear.
He sensed him. After two and half long months, he finally sensed him, from all the way here, at Corscuant. It was like a flare, burning so brightly before abruptly extinguishing itself. It was over so quickly though, too quickly for his liking, but, during the spark, he felt it all as clear as day.
It was as if someone transported him to Hoth, leaving him with nothing but the clothes on his back to survive in. The brash cold wind, pelting his exposed face with the sharp snow. His fingers losing circulation from the sub-zero temperature, feeling as if they might break off at any second. Chattering teeth refusing to stop moving, and he felt if they did, his heart would also cease to pump blood in his body.
The child was made for the dark side, just like Palpatine thought he would be. The boy was very much like his father and just as easy in manipulating. Coquer had reached a milestone, the first in many.
Now the son of Dooku needed another push, a catalyst that would change him into the perfect candidate to be his apprentice. But the question was, what was the catalyst that could react so deeply with Coquer?
The door to his chambers opened, and he heard someone entering.
"Your Excellency," the person greeted, and Palpatine immediately recognize their voice.
"Director Rancit," Palpatine returned the welcome, opening his eyes and turning to face the man in charge of Republic Intelligence. "Is it the time for our meeting already?"
"It is, sir," Rancit replied. He reached inside his breast pocket, pulling out a datachip. "I brought the portfolio of individuals you ordered us to construct."
Palpatine grinned at the good news, blinking in surprise. "That was quite fast, Director." he said, amazed. "I didn't expect the list so soon. It was hardly a week ago since I requested it."
Rancit chuckled. "Well, you know how good Captain Ounessa is in gathering this type of information, sir."
"That she is," he said, with a fatherly smile.
Palpatine paused, and he had to fight the dastardly grin that wanted to form. He knew just the perfect individual to find the spark that Coquer needed to reach another milestone.
"Director, I will take this datachip and review it," he said, removing the datachip from Rancit's hand, walking to the chair behind his desk. "But I believe we need to add another name to the list."
"Who might that be, your Excellency?"
Palpatine smiled. "Commander Coquer of Serenno," he answered, sitting in his chair. "And place my daughter in charge of gathering information on the young man. Like you said, she is quite efficient in this trade."
Author's Note: How did you guys enjoy the conclusion? It took me a good while to figure it out. I already had the Ahsoka part planned out, but not the rest.
So, if you don't know, I'm on deployment for hopefully the last time. Knowing my luck though I would get extended and be on a year long cruise instead of a 8 month one. Anyways, that means updates are going to be sporadic due to connectivity issues and if work permits it.
Tell me what you guys think about my version's of events and my interpretation of characters and small twists of canon.
Oh, one more thing. The sequel, Coquer's Daughter, is getting revamp. I'm going to be releasing the revamp shortly after this chapter. Probably a week or so after this if I still have internet.
Till Next Time.