Ahsoka had seen a lot of things in her life. Her time as a Jedi—more accurately, her time as a soldier—had exposed her to more than her fair share of misery, and her time as a civilian had shown her plenty of unfortunate circumstances.

That is to say, when she saw a little girl plummeting through the lower levels of Coruscant, she didn't waste time being surprised.

Ahsoka took off, dropping the bag of parts she had been carrying. She leaped off the side and hit the next level running. Lurching over the edge, she stretched her arm out as far as she could, but the girl fell just past her reach. The poor thing didn't seem to be conscious. Ahsoka swung herself over the railing, reaching out in freefall while she barreled toward the girl.

"Hang on, almost…"

Her fingertips brushed the girl's vest as the pair whizzed past speeders and decks.

"Got you!"

She grabbed hold of the girl and pulled her into her arms. Ahsoka adjusted her grip to secure the child against her chest, her heart pounding as they continued their rapid descent. She could feel the rush of air and the deafening roar of the city passing them by, but her focus was entirely on the precious bundle in her arms.

They were falling too fast. Ahsoka twisted her body, gently using the Force to slow their descent. It wasn't easy; she hadn't practiced Force techniques for a fall like this in a long time. Her mind raced, calculating the distance to the next platform and the angle she needed to take to land safely. Her montrals tingled, alerting her to approaching danger.

A speeder roared up from below, its bright lights cutting through the smoggy haze of Coruscant's underbelly. Ahsoka barely had time to adjust her trajectory, tilting them to one side to avoid a collision. The pilot, a Rodian, swerved just in time, his eyes wide with shock as he saw the two figures plummeting past.

In her arms, the girl stirred. Ahsoka, despite her panic, managed to breathe a sigh of relief. At least she knew the youngling was alive. But her solace was short-lived. She was suddenly shoved away, flailing alone in the air. Ahsoka spun, slamming her back against a support beam before collapsing onto a rusted platform.

It was subtle, but there was Force in that push, her reeling mind relayed to her. That youngling is strong with…

The youngling!

A shrill scream was ringing out from the now awake and still plummeting child. Thoughts catching up to the situation, Ahsoka rushed to her feet. The scream was fading quickly. Time slowed so much it would make a blaster bolt look still.

Breathe, Anakin's voice came into her mind.

Ahsoka listened, letting the Force flow through her breath and blood. She reached over the edge, not with her hands but with the Force, and gently grasped the girl. Her connection was tenuous at first, the child's fear and confusion making it difficult to maintain the delicate balance required. But Ahsoka, drawing on years of training and the strength of her old master's words, tightened her mental grip and slowly, steadily, pulled the girl onto the platform.

As the girl ascended, Ahsoka was finally able to see her clearly. It was definitely a human child, with dark brown hair pulled into an intricate braid and sharp, clever eyes. She was dressed practically—pants, boots, a simple tunic and vest—yet very fashionably, with ornate patterns sewn into her clothes. Her expression was incredulous, but Ahsoka didn't pay much attention to the girl's feelings.

Her focus remained glued to the lightsaber at the girl's hip.

After she was placed down, the girl stood with her arms folded, looking a mixture of unimpressed and confused. "Whatever you want, I'm not offering it," she said firmly. She glanced to the depths behind her. "But… also… thank you, I guess."

"Hey, don't mention it," Ahsoka assured her. "And I don't want anything! I mean, I'd like to help you. I used to be a padawan myself… it's a long story.

The girl only tilted her head, squinting.

Ahsoka couldn't hold back any longer. "What's going on? Who are you? How did you end up falling through this level of Coruscant? Were you in a battle? Where's your master, were they hurt?"

"My name," the girl said with a tepidness that suggested Ahsoka's frantic mood was utterly unnecessary, "is… Shmi."

Ahsoka felt something. It was small, just a poke through the fabric of the Force that told her she was being deceived, but not lied to. "Just Shmi?" She asked.

"Shmi" responded with a short nod.

"Okay. Well, it's nice to meet you, Shmi. My name's Ahsoka."

"I kn—" Shmi straightened as though she just remembered something. She stuck out her hand in a stiff motion. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Ahsoka," she replied courteously, staring unwaveringly into Ahsoka's eyes.

Ahsoka couldn't help it, she laughed. "I'm sorry," she said, smiling warmly and taking Shmi's hand. "The way you switched cadences caught me off guard."

"I know," Shmi sighed, suddenly looking a lot more like an actual child. "My mother says I need to work on my attitude; you catch more flepturs with honey and all that. But it's hard to be polite AND careful, you know?"

Ahsoka nodded. Something was bothering her about what Shmi had just said but she couldn't put her finger on it. "Hey, how about you come to my place for something to eat? It's on the way up top anyway."

Maybe you can answer the rest of my questions then, too. Ahsoka knew she didn't have a right to pry into Jedi business anymore, but her curiosity was burning her from the inside out.

Shmi opened her mouth in protest, then shut it, thinking. "I guess you're not really a stranger, are you?"

"Oh. Blast, I shouldn't be encouraging… I mean, if you're not… you don't have to trust me."

"No," Shmi stared at Ahsoka with an unreadable intensity. "I think I do."

Ahsoka stood there for a moment. When it became clear Shmi had no intention of clarifying, she shrugged and gestured for the girl to follow. Inside, she felt the burning grow.

They walked in silence for a while. Going up took much, much longer than the fall down had been. The platforms slowly became more crowded as they ascended to the somewhat nicer slums. The small-statured Shmi weaved her way through the vendors and customers easily, but Ahsoka, still new to this lifestyle, had a harder time. Once, to avoid being separated by a rolling cart, Shmi reached up and grabbed Ahsoka's hand. She didn't let go when it passed.

For someone who seems so independent and cautious, she sure is comfortable around me. Ahsoka didn't know whether to smile at the thought or worry about it.

In her tiny apartment, Ahsoka fretted about the kitchen while Shmi sat at the table.

"I know humans are omnivores but I don't really know what that entails. I've, uh, never had to cook before a few months ago. Do you need to eat plants with your meat or is what I have here okay?"

Shmi perked up. "Do you have any thimiar jerky? That's my favorite."

"Maybe." Ahsoka turned around, an eyebrow raised. "I'm surprised you know what that is. Did you study Shili or the Togruta in one of your temple classes?"

"No, ah, my aunt is a Togruta."

"Really? That's so cool! You don't look like a hybrid." Ashoka set down a tray of the jerky and sat across from Shmi.

"I'm not. She's… adopted. My mama—I mean, my mother also likes to make sure I'm aware of other cultures."

It struck Ahsoka, what had bothered her about Shmi's earlier statement. "Your mom? Jedi don't—"

"You think I'm a Jedi padawan, right?" Shmi interrupted.

Ahsoka didn't answer; her gaze simply fell to the lightsaber still clipped at Shmi's side. It was hidden under her vest, but Ahsoka had seen it before and recognized its shape under the cloth.

Shmi followed Ahsoka's gaze. She had that look kids got when they were trying to play it cool, that half-hidden sly smile they couldn't keep down. "I am no Jedi."

Ahsoka, for the second time that day, burst out laughing. "What?" She asked through her giggling. "Are you supposed to be some kind of baby Sith?"

Shmi's face dropped. Her expression shifted from pure shock to something darker, almost offense. "No, I am not a Sith," she stated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. (Which, to be fair, it kind of was.) "But I'm not a Jedi either. And I never will be." She added the last sentence with a sharp look.

Ahsoka ignored the glare; she had no intention of bringing an 8-years-too-old youngling to the council. "Different how?"

Shmi paused, eyes downcast. She seemed to be searching for the right words. "I don't belong to any of the orders you know. Not Jedi, not Sith. My family… we're… sort of in between."

"In between?" Ahsoka echoed, her mind racing. What kind of Force tradition didn't fit into the rigid dichotomy she had been taught? A witch? The Dagoyan? Some other obscure, weaker subject of the Force? "What does that mean? Who's your family?"

Shmi hesitated, then met Ahsoka's gaze with a seriousness that seemed out of place on her young face. "I can't tell you everything. Not yet. But my father, he's like you. He left the Jedi Order too. My mother is a humanitarian of sorts."

"Your father left the order?"

Shmi nodded solemnly. "It happened a little while after we were born. I don't remember it, obviously, but my mother talks about it sometimes. She said it almost broke him to leave, but that it would've broken him more if he stayed."

Ahsoka racked her brain, trying to think of any human males that forfeited their Jedi lifestyle. A kindred spirit like that sounded like a gift from the Force right about now.

Then a thought came to her.

"It's not Dooku, is it?"

Shmi's face twisted like she'd eaten the sourest food in the universe. "Force, no! Ew!"

"Okay, okay, sorry. I just had to ask. I guess the timing wouldn't work out anyway," Ahsoka mumbled. She sunk her head into her hands. "Ugh. I'm just so confused still. Who ARE you? None of this explains what you are, how you ended up unconscious in the air, or why you have a lightsaber."

"I know, and I'm sorry for asking you to put so much blind faith in me, but I promise this is all for a good reason! Look," Shmi took Ahsoka's hands in hers. "To be honest, I don't know how I ended up here specifically either. But I do know this: the Force connected us for a reason."

Ahsoka looked into Shmi's face, feeling the Force pulse between them. She knew that Shmi was telling the truth—not from searching Shmi's thoughts, but from deep in her own being.

"What reason would the force have to bring you to me?"

Shmi took a deep breath. "I need you to bring me to Anakin Skywalker."