There was a saying that Anakin Skywalker had once heard: "War is hell." Having fought one for going on two years now, he appreciated this as though it were gospel. He also understood the various coping methods used by men who had survived battle after battle after battle. Most of Torrent Company went out to eat and drink at Seventy-Nine's, a clone-only bar close to the GAR staging area. Some stayed in the barracks and caught up on HNE shows or holozines, something to escape from reality. Anakin also was fairly certain some of the men were seeing some of the local color when they got leave. He didn't begrudge them that, of course. They were men like any other, and he stayed out of their hair while they were on leave.

The only thing he did mind was when Ahsoka started picking up a few of those habits.

He couldn't say he was surprised, of course. Ahsoka was just a kid, she shouldn't have been on the front lines! That didn't mean he liked the thought of her going out on the town with the boys. He'd prefer that she stay at the Temple.

Anakin snorted at his own hypocrisy. When had he ever done that? He'd driven Obi-Wan mad with his antics as a Padawan.

Anakin was sitting on the smallish bed he called his own in the quarters he shared with Ahsoka, going through some logistics reports from the Five-Oh-First's procurement division. One thing he'd learned about warfare was that armies moved by sliding on a wave of paperwork. Laying the datapad down, he shook his head as the beginnings of a headache appeared in the center of his forehead.

"Hey, Master!" Ahsoka poked her head in Anakin's side of the quarters. "I'm heading to Seventy-Nine's with the boys, you coming?"

Usually, Anakin replied with some variation of, "Thanks, but I'm busy," but the reports were giving him the single worst migraine he'd ever had, bad enough that he'd honestly considered finding a spice dealer to get away from it. Even if they weren't, Padme was still at work, so sneaking to her apartment was out. What was the harm?

"Yeah. One minute, I'll be right with you."

Ahsoka blinked. "Really?" She hummed to herself. "Okay." Her head withdrew, and Anakin heard her footsteps moving away.

Anakin tossed his datapad onto the chair he had next to his bed and slid a brown Jedi robe over his everyday tunic. While he'd despised the heat of Tatooine, he'd never fully adjusted to the far cooler climate of Coruscant. Once you got acclimated to something, it never fully went away, it seemed. When he exited his room, he found Ahsoka waiting for him. She tapped the door controls and led him towards the motor pool. "You've never actually come with me before," she said.

"Well, if I keep staring at logi's reports the rest of the night, I'll claw my eyes out. Plus, I want to make sure you're not drinking anything you're not supposed to."

Ahsoka rolled her eyes. "Master, if I wanted to get my hands on an ale, I doubt that anyone would either know or care."

"Speaking from experience, Snips, drinking is fun enough, but don't actually get drunk."

"Why?"

"Two reasons. One: I'll know exactly what went down, and two: you'll hate yourself for most of the day. Hangovers are not fun, believe me."

"So as long as you don't figure it out, I'm safe."

"For the love of all that's good and holy, that is not what I-" Catching the look on her face, Anakin sighed. "Very funny."

"Yes, it was, thanks for noticing."

Ahsoka started to clamber into the pilot's seat of the skiff, but Anakin stopped her. "Unh-uh. I'm driving."

"Then you sign for it. That way, I'm not liable when you crash it."

Anakin was not overly surprised at the appearance of Seventy-Nine's. It looked like many a bar in Galactic City, the only difference being the number of clone patrons. Ahsoka, obviously having done this before, led Anakin to a table full of troopers in their "Reds." "How you doin', boys?"

The clones cheered. "The bosses!"

Jesse dragged over two chairs. "Have a seat, sirs. Get you anything?"

"Jawa Juice for me, Jesse," Ahsoka said.

Good, Anakin thought at her answer. "Whatever's on tap, thanks."

Fives raised his glass in Anakin's direction. "Don't see you here much, sir."

"Well, if I kept going over paperwork, Ahsoka'd be coming back to find me hanging from the ceiling…"

"Ah, paperwork. No army can do without."

Anakin looked down slightly to see that Hardcase seemed to be sitting on a man, a nonclone sailor. "Who's that?"

"COMPOR mongrel, boss. Next best thing to a proper stool."

COMPOR: COMmission for the Protection Of the Republic. Typically political appointees who either had influential parents or had someone important by the balls. "What'd he do?"

"Well, he had the audacity to suggest that us Five-Oh-First boys were 'a bunch of undisciplined poofters' and that 'he could teach General Skywalker a thing or two about tactics.' "

"Any plans on how he'll end up?"

"Haven't gotten around to it yet, sir."

"I'm sure something sufficiently monstrous will present itself."

Jesse returned, placing the correct glasses in front of the Jedi. "There you go, sirs," he said.

"Alright," Fives said, "Settle down a second." The table quieted as Fives spoke. "Let's all of us raise a glass to our brothers who went before us and did not return. May they find rest in the Manda."

The clones and Jedi raised their drinks. "Vode an," they chorused, before draining their glasses. The mood was somber for a short moment, enough for Anakin to feel out of place. Then, Hardcase roared, "Alright then! Barkeep, same again here!"

Much later, Anakin found himself outside the bar, a bottle of ale in his hand, staring out at Galactic City. He'd nursed the brew most of the night, even as his men threw down ales as fast as the bartender droid could pour. Ahsoka had remained inside, telling jokes and sharing lies. When he'd left, she was holding court with a mixed bag of troopers from the 501st, 212th, and Coruscant Guard battalion, regaling them with only partially fabricated tales of their deeds over the last two years.

"Quite the place, isn't it, sir?"

Anakin nodded as Rex leaned his forearms against the rail next to him. "It is that."

"Can't say I expected to see you here…"

"Didn't expect to be coming," Anakin said honestly.

"I don't really enjoy this," Rex said. "But…" He laughed. "The boys need a minder."

"It seems to be cathartic for them," Anakin said. "Can't deny them that."

"Copy that."

When Anakin looked over, he saw Rex grinning. "I think that's the first time you've ever told a joke, Rex."

"That you know of, sir. Wouldn't want to torpedo my reputation."

Anakin chuckled. "I think Ahsoka fits in better with the men than with other Jedi by now."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing, sir?"

"No comment."

"Permission to speak freely, sir?"

"We're off duty, Rex." Rex just looked at him. "Alright… Permission granted."

Rex sipped his ale gingerly. "If you want my opinion, it might make her a worse Jedi, but that doesn't make it a bad thing."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Anakin didn't disagree with Rex, if he meant what Anakin thought he meant; he'd harbored thoughts along the same line for some time, himself.

"Back on Kamino, we were told that Jedi were invincible military geniuses that couldn't be beaten. Then Geonosis happened."

Anakin nodded in agreement. A large number of Jedi had proven poor warriors, much less officers. Jedi like him and Obi-Wan were the exception, not the rule. He motioned for Rex to go on.

"Before we were assigned to you, I served under General T'Rook. He was a good Jedi, cared deeply about his troops and the civilians that were caught in the crossfire-and that's exactly what made him a poor leader. He was unwilling to press an attack if many of us would die, not understanding that if we were going to win, we were going to lose men. I thought highly of him as a man, but as a leader, I wasn't sorry to see him go." Rex nodded at Anakin. "Then we were assigned to you. I'll be honest, I wasn't sure what to expect. I'd heard plenty of stories from Cody's lot about Kenobi's Padawan, and I was worried for a bit. Then, once you took command…" He trailed off for a moment. "It was a breath of fresh air. You cared about us enough to ensure that our lives weren't lost in vain. You make plans that keep as many of us alive as you can, but you understand that inevitably, some of us won't be going home. That's why we follow you, sir, and that's why the rest of the Jedi aren't great officers: They're too Jedi-like. You, and the Commander-you act differently, and as long as we're at war, I wouldn't change a thing."

Anakin was sort of floored. He'd never heard his second in command's unvarnished opinion of not just him, but Jedi as a whole. "You don't think much of the Order, do you, Rex?"

"All due respect, sir: Do you?"

Anakin blinked as he read the knowing look on Rex's face. After a second, he said, "Thank you, Rex."

"Not to worry, sir. We're trained to keep secrets."

"Wait… we?"

"Put it this way, sir…" Rex tossed his bottle into a waste container. "About half of Torrent owes me fifty credits each." With that elegant parting remark, he touched two fingers to his brow and departed.

Anakin scoffed. "Why, that…" He smiled to himself.

The door opened, and music poured out into the night. He heard the sound of a pair of small boots walking up behind him, stopping next to him. Ahsoka looked out at the cityscape, a glass of what Anakin assumed to be juice in her hand. If it wasn't, well, he wouldn't look too closely. He couldn't exactly judge; he'd been a bit extracurricular when he was Obi-Wan's Padawan, and frankly, he was just past caring anyway. As long as he didn't see it, it wasn't an issue. No point digging where there were already holes. "Hey, Snips," he said.

"Hey, Skyguy," his Padawan replied.

"I see you've sufficiently 'debriefed' the boys inside for the night?" he asked, referencing the excuse a trooper had given for her bragging after their first impromptu mission on Christophsis.

"If by that you mean 'embarrassed you to the extreme' then yes."

Anakin grinned. "You never change."

"And you never want me to."

The two Jedi sipped their drinks. Anakin noted the slight pucker factor of Ahsoka's drink, but again let it slide. No time for living with the war on, he thought. Get it in while you can, Ahsoka.

"Master?"

"Uh-huh?"

"Did you ever think about sending me back?"

Anakin looked up sharply. "Where'd that come from?" he asked, a bit worried.

"It's just-" She stopped, took a deep breath, and started over. "Do you ever feel like you can do better, should do better, but can't seem to?"

"What do you mean?"

"I keep losing men on the battlefield. I try to protect them, but I always end up watching them die. Why can't I save them? Why do I keep failing?"

Oh, no. Anakin set his ale down and placed a hand on Ahsoka's shoulder. "C'mon," he said, guiding her to a table. He motioned for her to sit across from him as he sat down on the hard metal deckchair. "It's time I told you how I lost my mother."

Looking shocked, Ahsoka said, "I wasn't trying to pry anything out of you, Master, you don't have to-"

"I know, Ahsoka, but you need to hear this. I've been where you are now, and I have been farther down that road. Farther than you have ever known." He swallowed hard, collecting himself. "This was, uh, two, years ago? Days before the war started. I was assigned to protect Padme on Naboo, but I kept having these dreams, visions, every time I slept, of my mother. She was screaming, crying, begging. I wanted to help her, but my duty kept me from going until Padme asked about them. When I told her… well, you know Padme." As Ahsoka nodded, he said, "We jumped to Tatooine. I tracked down the piece of scum that had owned us, who told me that a man had bought her freedom and wound up marrying her. His good fortune, I should add… He told us that she'd been taken by Sand People a few months before. I took a speeder and went looking. When I found her…" He squeezed his eyes shut against the tears that threatened to run from his eyes. "They'd tortured her for months, destroyed her piece by piece. She died in my arms."

Ahsoka looked stricken. "Anakin… I'm so-"

"I saw red," he continued. He couldn't stop now, he had no choice but to get it out or he'd never say it. This wasn't about him, damn it, it was about Ahsoka. She needed to hear this. "I saw red, and my blood was boiling, and I knew what I was about to do was wrong, and in that moment I didn't care. I took my lightsaber and I killed them, one by one. The men, the women… the children. All I could think was that they had taken the thing that had meant the most to me in this terrible, kriffed up galaxy, and I hated them for it. But I hated myself more. If I'd gotten there sooner, or if I'd been stronger, or…" He trailed off. Ahsoka was staring at him in utter shock. "Take it from me, Ahsoka: You are not failing. I have been where you are, and you need to make a different decision than I did. What I did will haunt me until the day I die, and that is a weight I do not want on your shoulders. This is the most important choice of your life, Ahsoka: are you going to wind up like me? Or are you going to be better?"

Many years later, in a Sith Temple on Malachor, a much older Ahsoka Tano looked Darth Vader in the eye through his damaged mask and smiled. "I'm going to be better," she said.

While many would have called Vader emotionless, a machine of a man, Ahsoka knew she saw a flicker of pride in his yellowed eye before he attacked.