Content warnings: Non-consensual drugging, mention of branding, mild violence

"Hey! Wake up!"

Ahsoka groaned in her sleep, lifting a hand to rub her eyes when she felt something between sharp pain and a dead weight on the end of her arm.

"It's okay, Blue," the female voice assured, right over her montrals, "You're safe."

She didn't exactly feel safe.

Safe was Anakin's soft assurances waking her up from a nightmare. Safe was knowing that Rex was watching her six on the battlefield. Safe was being at the Temple, or on the Resolute, with the people she loved.

This was not safe.

"That's..." Ahsoka tried to open her eyes, but it was dark, and she felt so kriffing tired, "That's not my name."

"Is it not?" There was a note of confusion in the stranger's tone, "Miel, you said you heard the guards-"

"I did," another voice cut through, stronger than the first one. They were a female too, though they sounded younger than the first woman. "They said her name was Blue, made a comment about her outfit or something."

Ahsoka tried to open her eyes. She needed to be alert and find out who these people were. When she tried to lift her head, dizziness overcame her, and she fell back down. Something soft was beneath her head now.

The second Ahsoka realised that someone had their arms around her, her first reaction was to try to hit them, but it was like she couldn't control her body, almost as if she had been paralysed.

Panic filled her. If she couldn't move, she couldn't fight. If she couldn't fight, she couldn't defend herself if she needed to.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," the first voice spoke again, and Ahsoka blinked as a Togruta woman came into view above her. She must've been the one holding her. "It's normal to feel like this straight away. Give it some time to wear off."

"Where-" Ahsoka cut herself off with a cough, her throat as dry as Tatooine, "Where am..."

The Togruta woman furrowed her brow, "Miel, she needs water."

Ahsoka could do nothing but try to focus on not panicking. She didn't believe these people meant her any harm, but she was still afraid. Her mind felt all over the place, and her body felt like it wasn't even attached to her anymore.

She focused on the woman holding her. She was clearly older than Ahsoka, her montrals were curling upwards and Ahsoka could feel the weight of her long lekku against her arm. She reminded her of Shaak Ti.

Her skin was pale, though Ahsoka could pick out a pink hue even in the darkness. Her facial markings were grey, mostly adorning her cheeks and forehead and making her purple eyes stand out. The woman stared down at her, worry ingrained in her expression.

"Here." A tan hand appeared in Ahsoka's view, passing a canteen to the Togruta holding her.

Ahsoka felt herself being shifted upright, the canteen pressing against her lips, "Have some water, Blue."

Ahsoka ignored the desire to correct the name and drank, not realising how thirsty she had become. She swallowed the fresh water greedily until her throat was moist enough to speak. Only when nothing more came except droplets did Ahsoka stop.

"Better?" The Togruta asked, a slight smile on her lips that wasn't there before.

"Thank you." Ahsoka grunted, "Why can't I move?"

"Master drugged you." The woman told her, laying Ahsoka back on the ground. Ahsoka felt like she was in a fever dream- it took her a moment to remember that Master meant Molec, not Anakin.

Togrutas, Zygerria, the auction... it was all coming back to her.

"You'll get used to it," the other voice said, though Ahsoka couldn't see their face yet. "You'll always feel groggy afterward, but it gets better with time."

"He didn't want you to wake up whilst I treated your injuries." The Togruta added, "He said you might try to hurt us."

Ahsoka attempted to push herself into a sitting position, feeling too vulnerable otherwise. She winced as pain fired through her arm, though managed to sit with the assistance of the Togruta woman.

She tried to scan her body internally, but whichever drug Molec used on her was making it hard to think normally. "How... How bad?"

"Nothing major," The Togruta said with another smile. Ahsoka noticed that she didn't have a typical accent for a Togruta. "Some bumps and bruises, a dislocated shoulder. I relocated it as soon as the guards brought you here."

She could feel the typical wear and tear now. The electric shocks had burned the skin on her neck, and she could feel a twinge in her back where Molec had pinned her down with his knee.

It wasn't the worst beating she'd suffered, but Ahsoka was only fearful about what else Molec intended to do to her. She knew that Jedi weren't supposed to be afraid. She was supposed to trust in the Force, but Molec had taken the Force from her.

"Where are we?" Ahsoka managed, slowly becoming more alert. They appeared to be in an enclosed room, but there were no windows, and the only door was nothing more than a metal gate, like something from a prison.

There were a few bunks towards the back of the room, but the space wasn't large. Ahsoka manoeuvred herself to lean against the wall, still feeling weak. She surveyed her companions, registering the Togruta and the other person who had retrieved the water.

The woman seemed to be of a similar age as Anakin. She was a human with leathery, tanned skin, which suggested she had worked outside for a long time. She had brown hair that hung around her shoulders, and green eyes that seemed luminous in the darkness.

"In the slave quarters beneath the palace." The so-called Miel replied as the Togruta examined Ahsoka's shoulder, moving her arm backward and forward.

Ahsoka bit her tongue as she felt the ache start to set in heavier, though she'd suffered enough dislocated shoulders to know that the lingering pain was normal.

She noticed that both women were in similar vibrant and exposing outfits to the one she was wearing, though they lacked the decorative jewellery and shock collars. Her eyes were drawn to the scars on their bare collarbones. If she squinted, it looked as though they resembled letters.

Ahsoka's breath caught in her throat, "He... He branded you."

"Oh, yeah," the Togruta glanced at her scar, "I'm surprised he hasn't branded you as well, considering the name he's chosen for you. Blue is such a pretty name."

"That's not my name," Ahsoka fired back, wanting to set the woman straight. "And I don't want to be branded, I'm not cattle."

"But you are Master's property?" The Togruta frowned, genuinely confused, "This way, no other Masters will try to own you."

Frankly, that made her feel sick.

"You won't get much of a choice," Miel stated, "First, he gives you a name, then he brands you. It's how things work around here."

Ahsoka looked between them, "You're his slaves?"

"His servants," the Togruta corrected you. "We're not here by force."

"We're slaves," Miel huffed at her companion, then looked back at Ahsoka. "Convor's just too blind to see it."

Ahsoka wasn't sure what she expected Molec's slaves to look like, but it certainly wasn't this. Maybe she envisioned young girls in dirty rags who were too afraid to do anything other than tremble.

Miel and Convor appeared confident, and older than she anticipated. They were clean and well-dressed, even if the exposed skin made Ahsoka feel uncomfortable.

Neither of them really seemed abused.

Though Ahsoka knew that trauma wasn't just skin deep.

"I'm here because I want to be here," the Togruta- Convor- shot back, clearly agitated. "And I'm his because he wants me to be his."

"I'm not going to be his slave," Ahsoka told the two women sternly. "I'm not even supposed to be here."

"Well, you're here now." Convor said decisively, "Master must have purchased you for a reason."

"She wasn't bought," another voice spoke out from within the dark room, making Ahsoka startle and turn her head. She thought they were alone. "She was captured."

Ahsoka squinted, spotting the dark figure curled on a bunk, facing away from them. Another slave, she supposed, though clearly one who preferred to keep to herself.

"Oh," Miel gasped, "Did you try to escape? Who did you belong to before?"

She was excited like a group of Padawans gossiping at a sleepover, except they weren't talking about their crushes. They were talking about real people being owned by others who deemed themselves superior.

"I've never belonged to anybody." Ahsoka sighed, turning back to Convor, "Thank you... for healing me."

"You're welcome," Convor smiled, "It's nice to have someone different to speak to. Luna's new as well, but she's still a bit skittish. You seem more confident. Are you sure you haven't done this before?"

"No," Ahsoka shook her head. She was cautious to expose herself as a Jedi just yet, considering she'd only just met these women. There was no telling how they would react. "I'm just not afraid to stand up for myself."

The figure of the bunk scoffed, apparently listening in on their conversation. "Molec will suffocate your courage soon enough."

Convor snapped her head towards the figure, "You should really call him Master, Jiang. It's a sign of respect."

"At least don't call him that in front of Caelum," Miel added, more hesitantly, "You know what she's like."

Ahsoka cocked her head. How many girls were down here? Did they all belong to Molec?

"I'm sorry," she interrupted, "What are your names?"

"Oh, no, we're sorry," Convor switched quickly from being confrontational towards the mysterious figure to smiling at Ahsoka. "I'm Convor, this is Miel and Jiang. There's also Luna, who you'll meet later."

There was no way that these were their real names. Convor was a Zygerrian specie of bird, and Jiang was a rare Corellian jewel. They were more like placeholders, given to them by Molec when he bought them.

"And Caelum will be around at some point," Miel said. "She and Jiang keep to themselves, but they aren't bad company. All we have is each other, after all."

Ahsoka was confused. She looked at Convor. "I want to know what your real names are, before he bought you."

"I've always been his, Blue." There was a faint smile on Convor's lips as she reminisced, and Ahsoka wondered if Molec had her drugged as well. She didn't seem all there. "For as long as I could remember."

It clicked.

The Padawan swallowed hard.

This woman was like Anakin.

She wasn't bought into slavery; she was born into it. She had known nothing else except chains and auctions.

Suddenly, it made sense why she seemed able to defend Molec, and even stick up for him.

She truly didn't see what was wrong with this.

"I have a name," Miel spoke up, giving Ahsoka a small smile, "But I'm not supposed to use it. He likes to think our identities are his, as well as our bodies."

Convor touched Ahsoka's arm gently, drawing her attention. "You said you were captured?"

Ahsoka nodded, wondering how she should best phrase her situation. "I was actually here to try to put a stop to this slave empire. My team and I were caught off guard and captured. We've been separated."

"Do you know if your friends are still in the palace?" Miel inquired, almost eyeing Ahsoka wearily.

"No, I don't," Ahsoka admitted. She drew her knees up to her chest, suddenly feeling vulnerable. Her limbs didn't feel so heavy now, but the weakness in her muscles was lingering. "I don't know where they are. I don't know how I'm going to get out of here."

If Molec could so easily harm her, then it was likely that the others were being hurt too. Ahsoka dreaded to think how Anakin was coping with this, or Obi-Wan and Rex.

He must already be coming up with a plan to get them out of here. He'd come in with his blazing lightsaber and a smug smile- Molec wouldn't know what hit him.

Ahsoka decided to cling to that hope.

It was better than thinking about the alternative.

"What's it like here?" She looked between the two women carefully, "Are you really just servants or..."

She trailed off, unsure how to word her question in a way that wasn't inappropriate or offensive.

Apparently, Miel understood what she was trying to say.

"We have domestic chores, but we're mostly here for Master's pleasure and the pleasure of his staff."

She had figured they were pleasure slaves, but she needed to hear it from them directly. Now she had, Ahsoka once again felt suffocated by panic.

She remembered what Molec said to her earlier, how he touched her. It wasn't just bluffing. He took advantage of these women, and he wasn't afraid to take advantage of her either.

She was barely able to restrain herself from growling, "He's a dead man if he tries to touch me again, let alone do anything else."

"You shouldn't threaten him." Convor shook her head slowly, and Ahsoka couldn't decide if she was trying to warn her or protect him. She seemed to care about Molec, or at least believe that he cared about her.

"I admire your spirit," Miel shifted onto her knees, "I was like that when I first came here."

"What changed?" Ahsoka questioned. "Why don't you try to fight him?"

Miel and Convor looked between themselves, their expressions were unreadable.

"What is it?" Ahsoka pressed, concerned as to why they hadn't answered her.

"They don't want to scare you," Jiang muttered. "Master doesn't take well to troublemakers."

The bunk creaked, the figure moving. Ahsoka watched as they came closer, emerging from the shadows.

The Padawan was surprised to see that they were a dark-skinned Kiffar who couldn't have been more than five years older than Ahsoka. She appeared particularly haggard, walking with a limp, and her long dreadlocks seemed matted and uncared for.

As far as Ahsoka knew, Kiffar weren't popular amongst slavers. Their headstrong personalities and violent tendencies made them challenging servants. Often labelled as addicts or criminals, they weren't considered submissive enough for a life in chains.

What drew the Jedi's attention was her face.

Amongst her red qukuuf, a scar divided Jiang's face. It started at her forehead, ran through her left eye, and ended halfway down her cheek. Her left eye had been sealed shut.

Ahsoka swallowed hard, unable to stop staring. She figured Jiang was speaking from experience. Molec had maimed her.

The Kiffar remained emotionless, "I advise you don't try standing up for anyone here. Let my scar be a lesson as to the consequences of going against him."

Whatever Ahsoka prepared to reply was cut off by the sound of the metal gate grinding open. The Jedi jumped up, ignoring her tired muscles.

If she needed to fight whoever entered, she would do so.

In the entryway stood a Twi'lek woman. She was tall and extremely muscular, almost appearing masculine. She wore an outfit similar to the others, vibrant green skin on display. Like the others, she wasn't wearing a shock collar.

Despite her appearance as another pleasure slave, Ahsoka's eyes widened at the blaster on her belt.

She was armed.

The Twi'lek stepped inside, dark eyes surveying the room and its occupants. Ahsoka tried to look behind her to see if the corridor continued, but she couldn't see that far. When she looked back at the Twi'lek, the woman's eyes were on her.

"Blue." She said, her Rly accent thick like Master Secura's.

Ahsoka felt herself tense, "Who are you?"

"Come with me." The woman ordered as if she held some sort of authority over her.

The Jedi planted in her heels, "If you're just going to take me to him, then I'd rather not."

"Watch yourself," Jiang hissed, though none of the other women seemed prepared to defend her.

The Twi'lek lifted her forearm, pressing a button on a vambrace that was secured to her wrist. Before Ahsoka could blink, the shock collar around her neck was activated, though it was hardly as bad as before.

Still, the quick shock made her groan and drop to her knees, her palms slamming onto the stone floor. Ahsoka panted, stunned. She didn't think anyone but Molec would be able to control the collar.

"Blue," Miel leaned towards her, and Ahsoka thought she might try to help her up, or at least ask if she was okay. "It's best if you don't argue with Caelum."

Caelum. This woman was mentioned earlier. She was a slave, just like the rest of them, so why was she armed and allowed to walk around freely?

At the sound of heavy footsteps approaching her, Ahsoka looked up to see Caelum towering over her, looking not at all pleased.

"I told him that you wouldn't be worth the trouble." She hissed, grabbing under Ahsoka's arm to haul her upright. The Padawan winced as her injured shoulder was jostled.

"I told him to leave you in that cage, hanging over the city, until you became weak enough to not fight back, but he insisted on bringing you down here."

Still holding her shoulder, Ahsoka was practically lifted up to the woman's face. Caelum scowled at her, "I'll do as he asks because he's the Master. Do as I say, and we won't have any problems. Do you understand?"

Ahsoka nodded shakily, grateful when the woman dropped her back to her feet. The Twi'lek grabbed her cuffed wrists and brought them together. They joined with a click, binding Ahsoka's hands in front of her.

"Come along," Caelum muttered, pulling her past the other women by her arm. The others watched in silence. Miel almost looked worried for her. "We've wasted enough time."

They left the bunkroom, the gate slamming shut behind them. Ahsoka saw Caelum lock the gate by pressing her thumb against a fingerprint scanner. She wondered why Molec would trust one of his slaves to have access to their quarters.

"This way," her escort instructed, shoving Ahsoka towards the dark corridor. The Jedi struggled to catch herself but managed to keep her footing, moving away from the cell.

As they walked, the Twi'lek holding her bicep tightly enough to bruise, Ahsoka tried to subtly observe the woman.

She'd never seen such a muscular Twi'lek, even the men were typically lean. She could see Caelum's muscles through her skimpy clothes and had no reason to doubt she wasn't somehow trained in combat.

She looked more like an assassin than a slave.

"Are you like them?" Ahsoka broke the silence, and upon seeing the woman's frown, she nodded her head back down the corridor. "Are you a slave?"

Caelum's face twisted, "Yes."

Ahsoka nodded. She noticed that her long lekku were battered in old scars that twisted around the organs. Her eyes dropped to the blaster holstered on her waist.

She could easily grab the weapon, but she wasn't as good with guns as the clones were. She'd only practiced with Rex's DC-17s before, but it shouldn't be too different.

With a sudden sigh, Caelum stopped walking. Ahsoka was jerked backward and barely managed to hide her flinch as her injured arm was jolted again.

"Jedi are so stupid," she muttered, unholstering her gun. Ahsoka's heart picked up, wondering if she was seriously about to shoot her.

Instead, she was surprised when Caelum held the blaster out to her. Ahsoka looked at the woman, trying to read her intentions, but the blaster was merely pushed into her hands.

As soon as her palm wrapped around the grip and her finger touched the trigger, the magazine well opened automatically, and the magazine clicked out.

"It's customised to your grip," Ahsoka commented out loud, "Renders itself as unusable as soon as it's in a stranger's hand. These types of weapons aren't cheap."

"It was a gift," she said, avoiding looking at her.

Caelum took the gun, slotting back in the magazine before holstering it to her belt. She took Ahsoka's arm and continued down the corridor.

"You knew that I was a Jedi," Ahsoka said, as if they were having a casual conversation.

"He told me," Caelum answered, keeping her eyes straight ahead. "I was the one to drag your unconscious body to his room."

Ahsoka nodded, confirming to herself that Caelum was close to Molec. He shared information with her, trusted her with moving the slaves around, and gifted her an expensive gun.

They were more than just slave and Master.

They came to a set of double doors, and Caelum stopped. Ahsoka waited for the woman to fiddle around in her pockets, presumably looking for a key.

She took the time to observe her surroundings, having memorised the path from the cell. All the information she could learn about this place would be of value.

"Where are you taking me?" She asked.

Caelum didn't reply, though she revealed a folded cloth in her hand.

"What are you-"

Ahsoka was cut off with a squeal as the Twi'lek shoved her against the wall, clamping the cloth of her nose and mouth before she could even consider trying to fight back.

Ahsoka immediately began to struggle, attempting to kick at the Twi'lek's shins but the woman only rolled her eyes. The cloth stank like it had been doused in a chemical, the strong smell making her eyes water.

She went dizzy as she was forced to breathe in whichever drug had been infused into the cloth. Ahsoka tried to shout out, but it was muffled through the fabric. Her bound hands scrambled to scratch at the Twi'lek's arms.

Caelum smirked, unfazed by Ahsoka's sharp nails as she dug them into the woman's arm.

"It's easier if you don't fight it, Jedi."

She refused to give in. Anakin hadn't taught her how to be a quitter. Ahsoka carried on kicking and squirming even as the drug took effect, making her feel like she was slowly drowning.

The Twi'lek's dark eyes were the last thing Ahsoka saw before she succumbed to unconsciousness.