Author's Note:

Okay, I was fully prepared to post on Thursday... and then the site went down. So, now I interrupt my regularly scheduled postings by giving you the chapter I was planning for last Thursday the 11th. In the future, I will be posting on Thursdays again, so look for new chapters then or on Fridays! Thanks!

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Chapter 12

Bariss seethed as Ahsoka gaped at her. She did not let it show on her face. She did not let it surge into the Force. Even now, she adhered to that Force-forsaken Jedi composure, no matter how it gutted her. But her heart pumped hot blood and her arm—stump— throbbed as if aware that this was the perpetrator who robbed it of its majority. Bariss still felt the fingers that no longer existed. They prickled and burned, and her IV port itched an ache under the skin, where the needles didn't belong but remained. Her pain medication was wearing away and with it, her tolerance for the waking world… and here was Ahsoka. Whole.

Truthfully, Bariss could forgive her wholeness. She could forgive her for taking her arm. Just a fortnight ago, Bariss was ready to give the Republic her life. Could she truly blame Ahsoka, who had only followed through on her mission? No. This pain was unfortunate, but she could forgive it.

The thing she could not forgive was exasperated by the two men standing behind Ahsoka, bolstering her. Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker and Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. The former… she'd heard the medic's whispers that Master Skywalker had been present with Ahsoka the moment she'd exited surgery. He'd launched his starfighter from the cruiser mid-hyperspace flight. He'd risked his life and his rank as General and Jedi Knight— he disobeyed orders— to be here with his padawan. Bariss ground her teeth.

Her own master hadn't bothered to visit for a week.

And then there was Obi-Wan Kenobi. High General of the Grand Army of the Republic. Jedi Master. Member of the Jedi Council. Surely, if anyone had other places to be, Master Kenobi would be the Jedi, yet here he was... Bariss watched him glance at the Togrutan padawan, care and concern radiating from his gaze. Ahsoka seemed neither to notice nor appreciate it. It was foolish, Bariss thought, and ungrateful. What she wouldn't give to have Master Luminara see her the same—

She swallowed hard.

Master Kenobi was padawan-less. He was NOT Ahsoka's master. He had no reason to be here, but he was, and Bariss hated him for it.

It was shocking really. From the time she was a crécheling, she'd been taught not to hate. Then the war came, and she'd been taught not to fear. The clones died and she'd learned not to grieve. Unspeakable horrors happened, and she learned to numb so she could go on, and lead, and finish the mission. For years. If only that factory had crushed her, or the worm killed her or that lightsaber struck her three millimeters higher. But it hadn't and the numbing wasn't working anymore, and what remained terrified her.

Powerlessness. Isolation. Jealousy. And hate.

Hate for this war. Hate for the Council and the Jedi after what they'd done to her. Hate for how Master Skywalker rested his hand on Ahsoka's shoulder, a gentle and comforting gesture, while her own master sat distant and disconnected as she twitched in pain. Bariss studied the curve of the hand on Ahsoka's shoulder. Her own ached. The ache deepened as Master Luminara's attention diverted to their visitors and suddenly Bariss found that she hated Ahsoka too. For having two masters, attentive and earnest. For denying her death back on that frigate. For having everything and appreciating nothing.

Bariss checked her shields. They were firmly in place, just as her master taught her. She masked her anger behind them, even from her voice, for hate was not the Jedi way and no one could know. Discomposure was unforgiveable.

Bariss regarded her former Togrutan friend.

"You should not have come."

…

Anakin suppressed a glare for the Mirialan padawan, shooting Obi-Wan a look instead. What kind of a greeting was that, between friends? Ahsoka was quiet, but he knew his padawan with or without their bond, and the shrink in her shoulders betrayed how she'd hoped to be greeted. This is what he'd warned her about, and of course he was right. Bariss was changed by the amputation. But it would be okay. He could fix this, without an I-told-you-so—

"A word, Anakin?" Obi-Wan caught his elbow. Anakin pressed his lips into a line. Obi-Wan tipped his head toward the door, eye contact unbreaking.

"Of course, Master."

Again, Anakin squeezed Ahsoka's shoulder and flicked at their sealed Force bond to make sure she sensed him. He saw a muscle in her jaw tense, but she shot him a stiff nod, so Anakin straightened, regarded Bariss, and left to discover what his former master was on about.

He barely crossed the threshold before Obi-Wan cut him off.

"It's time, Anakin."

Anakin brushed past him to lean against the wall, suppressing an eye roll. "Time for what?"

Obi-Wan frowned. "War demands its generals."

"Don't kid yourself— the Council demands its generals." Anakin frowned back. He crossed his arms, mirroring Obi-Wan. "I'll go after Ahsoka finishes her visit."

"You are deliberately putting this off. First it was after she woke. Then after you walk her to Bariss—"

"What would you have me do, Obi-Wan? March outta the room the moment she opens her eyes?"

"Anakin!" It seemed to take a tremendous amount of self-control for Obi-Wan to inhale a new breath and clear the irritation from his face. Luckily, Obi-Wan's self-control was plentiful.

Anakin refolded his arms over his chest, tapping the fingers of his prosthetic against his bicep. The calibration was off. Probably only a tenth of a second, nothing anyone else would notice, but then again no one else had to live with it. Anakin flexed each finger independently. The ring finger synapses were clinging to the pinky's. He re-curled them over his arm and glanced again at the door over Obi-Wan's shoulder.

He'd learned to live with the maintenance his prosthetic required; finding it actually comforting at times while many bigger things in his life remained unfixable, but Anakin also knew that his hand would never be the same again, no matter how complex the bionics, no matter how the research advanced. Channeling the Force was an adjustment. Movement felt more conscious. There would always be little glitches in the machinery, and he would always feel the ache in his stump when the pressure changed, in space or under a new atmosphere or otherwise. He imagined Bariss had already gathered that too, though if she was anything like Luminara, she'd handle the distaste better than he did. Already she possessed the lofty detachment some Jedi seemed to hold in high regard—

Anakin exhaled a breath, shaking the thoughts from his head. He glanced up to see Obi-Wan studying him. Quickly, he checked his shields. They were still solid, no leaks, no cracks. Anakin squared his shoulders.

"I understand your desire to be present for your padawan," Obi-Wan started. There was an edge to his voice. Anakin sniffed and turned away, wrinkling up his face. Obi-Wan shifted to catch his eyes. "Truly, I do. But these times call for adaptations and strength in ways we haven't practiced before."

"Master—"

"Ahsoka is strong." He nodded. "She will be the warrior you are training her to be, but not without your example."

Anakin pursed his lips. He understood the reference to their earlier conversation, using his own words against him. Didn't mean he liked it.

"You must go to the front."

Anakin rocked forward to respond, but suddenly the door to Bariss' room shifted open and Luminara floated through the gap.

"It seems our padawans have much to discuss." Luminara hummed. Her voice was slow and even, unbothered by the distress her padawan bottled up. "Meanwhile, there is an active campaign on Dantooine we should be getting to." She gave Anakin a nod. He frowned.

"You've also been assigned to Dantooine, Master?"

"Yes, though not in the same capacity. You will lead the assault, Skywalker, and Master Windu will join you, should he be as unwilling to leave the battle as I anticipate." She nodded at Obi-Wan now, circumnavigating Anakin all together. "I will be exchanging troops and evacuating civilians. There is one in particular with intelligence highly sought after by the Jedi Council."

"On Dantooine?" Obi-Wan asked. "That's wild space. Agriculture, isn't it? What farmer has access to sensitive Jedi secrets?"

"One who claims to have been in business with a 'Lord Tyrannus'." Luminara murmured.

"Ah." Obi-Wan stroked his beard with one hand. "I'm familiar with the name."

Anakin blinked at him, and at Luminara. It was like they'd forgotten he was here, talked over like a padawan again. Irritation crept into his temples, wrinkling his brow.

"Never heard of him." He said, pointedly. Obi-Wan's mustache curved into a frown. There was a long pause between the three of them.

"I'm afraid the Council has determined the matter confidential." He nodded to Luminara. "With exception to specific missions and briefings, of course."

Anakin crossed his arms again, the scowl on his face thinly veiled. "Of course."

Luminara raised her chin, the draping of her headdress ruffling past her shoulders. "There is no need to concern yourself with the nature of my mission, Skywalker, since your own is challenging enough. Shall I lead the way?"

"What—now?"

The corner of her lips quirked upward as she turned down the hall. "Unless there is another pressing matter to attend to?"

Anakin scored his tongue with his teeth. Pressing matter. Pressing matter? What did she call her mutilated student, lying in a gully of pain, scared and confused with no one to console her but an equally abused peer? Anakin felt a fire swell up beneath his sternum, oblivious to the head shake Obi-Wan shot him. "There is the matter concerning my padawan, Master. And yours."

The amusement snapped from Luminara's eyes as quickly as it appeared. Obi-Wan's bond whispered chagrin, which only fueled the flames in Anakin's chest. Luminara glanced at Obi-Wan as if to ask, "do you see your padawan's poor behavior?". Anakin felt the heat rise into his cheeks. He clenched his hands into fists. Luminara faced him, adjusting the sleeve of her robe.

"Bariss is awake, under scrupulous care by the station's staff, and I have relayed the information I've been commissioned to." She raised a brow. "Has there been a complication with Ahsoka's treatment?"

"No." Anakin muttered. Luminara's expression hardened.

"Have you been instructed to another mission on this station?" Her tone implied rhetorical.

"No."

"Does Padawan Tano require your expertise to heal?"

Anakin would have liked to say yes. Force— he wanted to say yes. But saying yes would reveal his and Ahsoka's unique Force bond, which shared far more than the suggestion of presence and mental state, was currently sealed by his padawan, and could possibly remove her from his tutelage. He was already three strikes in disobeying the Council, or his master, or another master, and by now a corner had formed and Anakin was firmly backed into it. So, he grit his teeth and the flame in his chest, swallowed a swear, and straightened.

"No."

It was a foul-tasting word. Luminara's mouth twitched; a tiny movement, but Anakin saw it and he knew what it meant. While he was frothing with defeat, she tasted victory. She nodded to him, turned to Obi-Wan, and folded her hands.

"Then I see no reason to stay. Our presence is required elsewhere."

Anakin glared at the seams of her headdress. She was belittling him, like she had on Geonosis, while their padawans suffocated under factory debris and while she was the one at fault. Maybe, when one is reared safe and secure in the Jedi temple instead of enslaved on a desert planet, one's priorities demoralize. In this war, separation could be permanent, just like it was on Tatooine. Back then, a slave sold was a friend lost; and no matter how much Anakin tried to escape his past, there always seemed to be a part of him that wouldn't let him forget.

"Your padawan," Anakin sucked in a breath through his nose, "was in a coma for seven rotations. The medics expected her to die."

Luminara just stared at him. Obi-Wan was blasting caution through their Force bond like it was a vortex. Anakin ignored it.

"You have been here for not even half a rotation, and you want to leave again?"

Luminara stepped towards him. Dread wafted through his Force bond from Obi-Wan. The station was suddenly very still, his heartbeat seeming to make the only sound, and a flicker of uncertainty sprang up in Anakin's mind.

Luminara pursed her lips. "General Skywalker, I am aware of my padawan's condition. If it was the Force's will to restore her health, I would celebrate her wellness, but my wants are unimportant. I cannot control how the Force acts, I cannot control whether Bariss is harmed or healed, but I can control this mission. And as Jedi peacekeepers, it is our priority and our duty to do whatever means necessary to put an end to this war. Can we not agree on that?"

Anakin's lips drew a line. He glanced at Obi-Wan. His resolute expression mirrored Luminara's, as if her words amplified his authority too. Obi-Wan raised his brow at him. The message was clear. Don't continue digging this hole, my young padawan. Never mind that he wasn't a padawan anymore. Never mind that he had an army in his command. Never mind he was master to a padawan himself. He would always be under Obi-Wan's authority. He turned back to Luminara, whose expectation still hung in the air.

"I…apologize, Master." He cast his eyes to the ground, pride stinging. "I was out of line."

One beat. Two. Anakin felt for some emotion from Obi-Wan through their bond, but he'd reinforced it with shields. Luminara clasped her hands again.

"Apology accepted. Let us go now, Skywalker." She murmured, like she took no pleasure in berating him, though Anakin knew the truth. She floated down the hall without looking back, clearly expecting him to tag along at her heels, but Anakin stared at the door separating him from his padawan. Luminara left no room for a personal goodbye and with their severed bond, he couldn't send the thought. Obi-Wan moved to his side.

"You are letting your emotions control you, Anakin. Be mindful. I will inform Ahsoka." He offered him a thin smile. "She will heal despite your absence, I promise."

"It is like Luminara said, Master." Anakin pursed his lips. "Whether she does or she doesn't, 'my wants are unimportant.'"

Without a spare glance, Anakin stalked down the hall, feeling more like that little slave boy on Tatooine than he had in a long time. Only now, the embers in his chest smoldered and the Force churned around him, and his power echoed in his footsteps clunking against the tiles.

...

I hope you enjoyed Bariss' perspective for the first time and Anakin's perspective again! Both will receive more in the future. Also, please remember for the love of our secondary characters (*cough cough* Luminara and Obi-Wan), that Anakin is an unreliable narrator with trauma and Bariss is extremely hurt physically and emotionally. Just... don't be as hard on them as those rascals have been.

**But also, if you empathize or agree with Bariss and Anakin, then I have done my job well :).

Thank you for reading! Please review if you feel so inclined.