Chapter 22

It was heaven to be under a shower which I could just stay in until I got wrinkly skin. Not that I did that often, but it was more accurate to say, it was just amazing to be unhurried in the shower. The best we could do to clean ourselves on the long trip on the Xanadu Blood had been standing sponge baths in the tiny WC. The remaining trip back to Coruscant on the Acclamator didn't count, even though it was amazing to be able to stretch the legs. No relaxation was possible when you had two infants to care for, especially of two entirely different species.

Anakin and I had to do our best guesses and even used the Force for guidance on what was wrong every time the little tykes threw a new tantrum. When it was safe to do so, we got on the Holonet and began to consult on just what to do. The whole experience made me question how any species managed to procreate when you had to deal with a bundle of unending wailing and demands that kept you out of proper sleep for months or even years. It had also done a number on any lingering thoughts I had on the possibility of having children of my own in the future. Future Ahsoka would probably… maybe have the issue, but right now it would take seeing flying pigs over the Jedi Temple before I'd believe in the possibility.

I switched off the shower, toweled off and dressed.

My 'Hapan Jedi' outfit as I termed it in my head was just too comfortable to pass up wearing again. My experience in the cluster had done a lot to make me more at ease in my own skin.

I emerged from the bathroom to find that Anakin was back to his own customary almost black Jedi 'half-armor' outfit, scrutinizing his own appearance in a mirror and combing his hair. Normally, he wasn't vain at all, but he was going on a long overdue visit to his wife.

"Keeping the new look, Snips?"

"When I'm not on a battlefield or on a ship about to head into battle, sure."

He glanced at his chrono, "Well, I have to be going. You know what to do."

Yes, cover for him while he had dinner and passionate negotiations with his wife.

I smirked, tapping the comlink on my gauntlet, "Of course, Skyguy." Every call that would go to him normally would be routed to me.

His head was in the clouds as he left his quarters but my purposeful 'eh-hem' and pointing at the table reminded him that he had to take the dinner he had obtained at considerable effort.

The stasis box was filled with a cooked meal that was straight from a freighter inbound to Coruscant from Naboo. Anakin, with his eye for ships, spotted the sleek Nubian freighter during one of the layover stops along the Hydian Way. It was but a few minutes of negotiation with the freighter captain, a relatively minor credit transfer and fifty minutes in the galley of the freighter and Anakin had Padme's favorite dinner in hand.

"Ah, thanks, Snips."

He practically swooped down on the box and power walked away.

I got some breakfast into my belly though before setting out into the expansive halls of the Jedi Temple.

The sense of the Temple was much improved, the peaceful serenity had returned, replacing the awful tenseness that had lingered after the bombing.

The one place though that still bore the sense of the event, was the Halls of Healing and my destination.

Its name was rather misleading.

Far from being a collection of 'halls', it was the most modern, capable and high tech medical facility in the galaxy. This was only augmented by the Jedi who served here as healers, bringing the healing powers of the Force to bear on the ailments and injuries of the Jedi who served across the galaxy. It would also occasionally have non-Jedi as patients, but those were exceptional cases where a new disease or malady had been discovered, which traditional medical science struggled with.

These days the halls were mostly filled with injured from the Clone War, now with the addition of those Jedi who had been victims of Cad Bane's bombing.

It was as I was asking some of the healers where I could find their chief that I began to get a weird sense from some of them. I should've been just another padawan to them, maybe even an intruder in their domain, interrupting their important work. Instead, I was met with wide eyes and often eager assistance.

I was directed to a ward which held four patients out of the eight beds that were in here. Two patients were recovering from blaster wounds, whilst the other two were recovering from the bomb blast. Master Vokare Che, stubborn Chief Healer of the Jedi Order, was in an adjoining room and from the sounds of it, chewing out a junior healer for some reason or other.

My eyes found one of the patients and it was a struggle not to visibly wince and feel sympathy at the sight of him.

He was a mess of bacta bandages and a triple amputee, having only his left arm intact, whilst his other limbs were stumps of differing lengths. It was hard to even see what his age was or even if he was human.

My feet carried me towards the foot of his bed and I picked up the datapad slotted there.

His name was Trec Thiddex, human, 14 years old, an adept that had been due to be pushed to padawan rank. The amputations were not the only problems here. He had burst his left eardrum, the inner ear there was also a mess - his sense of balance was shot. A punctured and reinflated left lung, blood loss treatment… the list went on.

"P-p-padawan?"

I was rather startled that he was awake, so absorbed had I been in reading his medical chart. His startling cerulean blue eyes were weary, filled with pain but there was an active, coherent mind there.

"Adept Thiddex," I slotted the pad back and bowed, "Sorry, if I disturbed you."

"Sick of sleeping anyway, even if it's the only useful thing I really can do these days," he grumbled. He reached with his remaining arm upward. The Force fluxed and the handle mounted above his head was pulled down into his reach. He helped himself into a seated position, as he used more TK to arrange his pillows behind his back. It was hard not to sense the despair that this adept was wrestling with.

It would be so easy to throw the usual encouragement, sympathies and platitudes.

Those wouldn't help.

Maybe it was the Force that had brought me here or even its guidance that prompted my next action, but it felt right.

I stepped forward to his bedside and offered him my open hand, pushing my intentions forward through the Force, a slight temporary bond formed.

He wasn't certain at first what to make of it, "Padawan?"

"Not for revenge, anger or despair, but for closure, acceptance and healing. This will not return what you lost, but will set you on the path. Take my hand."

His eyes narrowed in suspicion briefly. He had probably been lectured, psychologized and 'healed' for the emotional damage and trauma, but there was one thing that all that couldn't fix.

Eventually he raised his hand and I gripped it evenly. The connection made I began pushing select memories to him.

It didn't take more than three seconds, until I let go and dissolved the brief bond. His eyes now had a faraway look as he stared out into the simulated natural scenes of the 'windows' of the ward.

Eventually he blinked, seemingly remembering where he actually was.

"You… the one who did it… Cad Bane… he's… not going to ever hurt anyone like me again or the others. He's… dead. I feel… no, that's wrong but…" He looked up at me.

"Justice was served, adept. It might not be pretty, but it is what it is."

He closed his eyes and sat back, tears leaking from them that he wiped away almost absentmindedly. "You spoke of a path… how can I have any path? Which master would choose me as I am now?"

As if it had been waiting for his question, my prescience flared.

"You'll be surprised," I smiled at him. "Give yourself some credit, adept. If you can persevere through all this, I'm quite sure you'd have to start beating masters off you with a stick. Your physical therapy and prosthetics will be a long arduous road. Walk that road, overcome the challenges and you'll be a padawan."

"That's crazy," he shook his head, unable to see it.

"I'd suggest you pay heed to her words, Adept Thiddex," Chief Healer Che suddenly spoke up sternly from his right side. The poor guy almost jumped out of his bandages, he had been so absorbed in my words and looking at me.

"Healer Vokare, I'm…"

"If you're about to apologize for not sleeping as much as instructed, don't. I'll drag you by your ear into a healing trance if that's what it takes. Understood?"

"Yes, healer."

She addressed me next, looking me up and down, "Padawan Tano, you look in good health… had a bit of sun lately. Good. Reconsidering the paths of healing are you? My offer is always open. Your talents would do so much good in these halls."

"My path is set, Healer Vokare," I said firmly. It was best to match the stubborn twi'lek healer's demeanor with the same stubbornness in kind. It was often joked that Vokare Che could talk the ears off an ortolan.

"Pity," Vokare smiled sadly. "Therefore, you're here about the younglings you brought in. Very well. Follow me."

I gave a smile and wave to Thaddex before following in the healer's fast paced walk out of the ward.

We followed a twisting route, walking through the Healing complex and it was rather hilarious watching the various reactions to Vokare walking through the halls with purpose. Most politely got out of the way, others seemed to stiffen their spine and suddenly looked much more involved with whatever task they were doing.

Finally, we arrived at an access controlled door that required the use of the Force to unlock. Though as Bane's intrusion had demonstrated that was not really an impediment to anyone who was prepared. There was already a thorough review of Temple security procedures underway and I wouldn't be surprised if these Force locks were soon going to be augmented with more traditional high-tech and even low-tech measures; DNA scans, physical keys, verbal passphrases, numbered combinations, to name a few.

Beyond was an observation room that looked down on a sterile, clean room environment. It was usually an operating theater, but had now been converted into a ward with two small beds and various playthings, that the attending healers could use to keep the younglings amused and occupied.

Currently both were fast asleep and the healers, dressed in cleanroom isolation suits, were taking the opportunity to run some scans and tests on the infants.

"I take it all this is just precautionary?"

"Of course, nanodroids are not infectious, usually. We are dealing with machines though and there's no telling when something in their programming could trigger and turn their function into something much more sinister."

I would've normally been worried about such a thing possibly infecting me or Anakin, given how long we had to stay in close quarters with the infants and deal with their biological foibles. Thankfully, I had technometry to sense them and the nanodroids were content to stay in their primary hosts and those that left involuntarily via secretions, died and disintegrated promptly.

Nanodroids had to be designed to live in their specific hosts and any large change in conditions usually killed the extremely fragile things.

"So what do you think their actual function is?"

Vokare gave me a mild smile, before walking over to a wall mounted computer and after tapping a few buttons caused a large holo to appear in the middle of the room. "Here's a magnified mapping of the nanodroid. What do you think their function is?"

There was another of the minor reasons why I didn't choose the path of the Jedi Healer… Vokare Che loved applying a bastardized version of the Socratic teaching method to everyone around her. I restrained my weary sigh and focused on the ugly looking, multi-limbed nano-droid.

It wasn't easy at first making heads or tails of the thing, it was a nanometer scale machine, where classical physics didn't work the same. You had to adjust your perspective, but eventually I began to see the components for what they were, the hows and the whys.

"Not intended for cellular surgery or alteration, unless the tools are hidden away in the droid's body," I reasoned, walking around the hologram slowly. Naturally, Vokare didn't give any positive or negative reaction to my statement. "The tools they do have on their limbs though… electron charge conduction and manipulation… that has to be a chemical probe."

Was this just an extremely fancy on-demand, remote torture device? A torture that could never be escaped, perhaps even preventing the eventual unconsciousness. A way for Palpatine to always ensure his future agents would be very motivated to never betray him, lest they be consigned to never ending torture, no matter where they were in the galaxy.

It seemed to fit.

Yet, slave implants, though much larger, could perform those same functions much more efficiently and cheaply. Why go through the expense and time to engineer custom nano-droids for each potential future agent?

I was clearly missing something.

"Can I see the scan of both infants with nano-droid concentrations?"

Vokare simply nodded and with a few buttons pressed, the holo changed to show the scans in question.

The droids were all over but… they all seemed to prefer congregating to the brain.

The implications for that was… horrific.

Brain technology interfacing had been in its infancy on old Earth, yet the devices had already existed where neurologists could make you see fantastic shapes and colors without even having to go invasively into the brain. Here and now in the Corusca galaxy, such interfacing was lightyears ahead, with near perfect neural interfaces for prosthetics. Extending that into the realm of the brain was perfectly doable, as was even a full-body prosthesis for the brain.

It was not a common thing though, being limited to the extreme technophile fringes of the high-tech core worlds and hellishly expensive.

Could…

I turned to Vokare, unable to keep the grim troubled look off my face, "Forceful simulated experience?"

"Well done, padawan, you're the third to come to that conclusion," Vokare nodded. "What you are looking at is what we believe to be highly sophisticated indoctrination tool. Whoever is in command of nano-droids such as these can subject their victim to any stimulus they want; whether that be a sunny day on Alderaan or the brutal conditions of a spice mine on Kessel. It doesn't even have to be done consciously to the victim, working only on a subconscious level during sleep, inducing dreams as it were and even emotional manipulation."

"That's…" I struggled to find the right words. It was somehow worse than just plain evil. People injected with this kind of nano-droid could literally be convinced they were doing the right, virtuous and noble thing, yet be perpetrating horror in reality. The fact that this technology even existed made you question your own experience and reality.

"Utter and barbaric scientific perversion," Vokare declared with distaste. "Made even worse by the fact that we found evidence that the younglings were also being prepared for slave implants."

Somehow, just plain killing Palpatine didn't feel good enough anymore. It was a stupid feeling and I firmly reminded myself that when the time and opportunity came, I wouldn't hesitate to fillet the bastard into cauterized meaty chunks. "Is there any way to remove the nano-droids?"

"Yes, but it's a long, delicate process and the younglings will need to return yearly for checkups to make sure there aren't relapses. Until we can crack the droid's encryption and programming, which is a project outside of my expertise and I understand can take years."

It was also probably an effort that while useful for these two younglings wouldn't help in the long run. Palpatine could just switch any future nano-droids to new encryptions anyway. This was a weapon not easily and simply countered.

"What of the parents or…? " Did Mon Cal even have pair bond procreation?

"Contact has been established, padawan. The school mother of young Canna," she gestured to the Mon Cal infant, "is on her way, as is Abric's father," the Chironian.

"Oh good…" Any further conversation was interrupted when my com link went off. A quick glance confirmed that yes, it was actually for Anakin. "Excuse me, Healer. Thank you for your time."

"Yes, yes. It was good to see you again, Ahsoka. Off you go."

Acting as Anakin's secretary, made me wish I had a plausible excuse generator handy on my pad. It was Master Kenobi calling about something and it was really annoying.

Especially considering I had spent the first six hours in the Jedi Archives doing research for my military studies and the work Mistress Gray had sent me.

She had come up with a curriculum that involved various political scenarios that I had to solve, by any means necessary. Problems usually based on events in Hapan history or even from the greater galaxy. Each problem had a bunch of caveats and restrictions, that seemed like they were purposefully designed to frustrate anything as easy as simply assassinating the troublesome politician or enemy.

It had me eventually thinking in circles, so I decided to go and relieve my frustration by heading to the training arenas.

Most of these were a large rectangular space with an overhead observation and control booth. The floors and walls were made up of blocks that could dynamically position themselves to simulate all manner of terrain situations.

It had always bugged me how in the classic duel between Obi-Wan and the recently fallen Anakin, they could possibly fight and continue their duel in the crazy positions depicted, such as hanging from a tall array tower floating in the lava rivers of Mustafar. The answer was the training done in these 'danger' rooms.

Due to the odd hours my body clock was still on, thanks to taking care of the infants all the way to Coruscant, it was now well into the local evening, meaning that I had a room all to myself.

I was rather curious as to how I was rated now.

The room had twelve settings, with setting one being what you'd put young initiates in and was about as challenging as a light obstacle course for someone who had no Force inspired movement abilities. Setting Twelve on the other hand was something that Master Yoda would've found challenging and had been barely capable of doing 200 years ago. These days he could do Setting Ten, but it really taxed his old body quite fiercely so he didn't bother.

It was generally accepted that most Masters could do settings eight through eleven, though it greatly depended on their age, species and body flexibility.

Anakin could do level seven, but he hadn't bothered trying to go higher since his knighthood trials.

I had left the Temple to go to war having achieved Level Five.

So that is where I set the room.

Soon I found myself in the starting position of the center, limbering up and stretching.

Warm enough I welcomed the Force as my ally and began channeling, lighting both my lightsabers.

"Begin."

"Statement: As you command, Master!" HK's voice was entirely too cheerful from the control booth.

Stun bolts from different angles immediately assaulted me.

I blocked and redirected them straight back, offlining two of the remote drones that were now emerging to attack. More emerged and I was forced into beginning to dodge and move, as well as bringing my blades up in defense.

This assault endured for a full minute before the first arena changes began to occur.

Platforms emerging and flying around, creating both obstacles for the remotes to hide behind and places I could jump to and parkour to get new angles.

Soon enough the score of disabled remotes ticked up and within three minutes I had already beaten my previous record of 'dead' remotes. As the clock reached ten minutes of this level I realized…

It was fun but…

"HK, stop and reset. Go to level six."

"Acknowledgment: Yes, master. Statement: That looked rather easy for you."

"Yeah, it was."

Level six upped the difficulty by increasing the aggressiveness of the remotes, the platforms moved faster, they were also of different sizes now, some of which you couldn't really stand on. The platforms themselves were also now 'weapons', that would occasionally seek to purposefully bump you.

Beginning this level I could immediately feel it.

This was my current difficulty 'ceiling'.

It was much more difficult to disable the remotes now, their dynamic attack profiles not allowing me to generate reflections. Instead being reduced to only barely being able to defend myself and that was with occasionally controlling my lightsabers with TK, to hover around me and deflect the shots coming in at awkward angles.

My Force 'Parkour' was also challenged now, as there was no more easy regaining of my balance on a new floating platform. Especially when that platform decided to act as a bludger straight out of a Harry Potter quidditch match.

The further challenge now was to be able to use precognition to determine which platform was 'safe' to use at the same time using it to anticipate the incoming blaster shots.

Suffice it to say, I barely lasted three minutes before a stun shot nailed me when I misjudged a platform that turned out to be a bludger.

My Tutaminis was thankfully up to the task of dissipating the stun that would've sent me into la-la land.

I immediately turned the Force towards slowing my fall, somersaulted and landed on my feet.

Yeah, the other aspect of Level Six, you had to be able to tank and deal with falls. None of the tractor or grav systems would catch you or slow your fall anymore.

I instructed HK to reset the room and I tried again.

My times fluctuated from then on, including one rather embarrassing moment where I only managed 50 seconds.

It was at this moment that naturally the comlink went off again.

"HK, stop the room!"

"Acknowledgement: Yes master."

I looked at the beeping link on my wrist and the time.

Had I really spent almost two hours doing this?

It really said something about the endurance work I had been doing in my general physical training.

Well, you've had enough lovey-dovey time, Skyguy, I grumbled in my mind and promptly overrided the signal forwarding to allow the signal to actually go through to him.

"Okay HK, reset, let's go again."

"Statement: Master, as fun as it is watching you torture yourself. Question: When can I join in on this?"

"You? With not a single lethal blaster in sight?"

"Statement: I will naturally use my lightsabers, Master."

"Fine, but on the condition that those sabers are on their training setting. I'd rather not explain to the Battlemaster why one of his arenas was slashed to pieces in the morning."

"Mock Offense: Why master, it's as if you don't think I'm capable of finesse."

"Whatever, get your metal ass down here and bring the arena remote control with you."

After nearly two hours of beating my skull against Level 6 and HK, I called it quits.

The line between endurance training and torturing yourself started to seem mighty thin when you were doing this stuff. I had to spend twenty minutes in a rejuvenative meditation just to be certain my legs were recovered enough that I could walk and not breathe like I had just run a bloody marathon.

Throwing myself into the common showers to get all the dried sweat off me and let hot water soothe my body was utter bliss. Thankfully there were also droids here that could handle quick cleaning of clothes, so I emerged from the training arenas feeling somewhat tired and hungry, but at least not looking like a sweaty mess.

"Ahsoka?"

The voice of my interlocutor was not one I had expected to hear now. My blissful after exercise, non-thinking mindstate had not really been conducive to paying attention to my surroundings, nor my senses through the Force. I really had to work on that.

I bowed slightly to my peer, "Barriss, it's good to see you. How's life been in the Halls of Healing?"

The mirialan padawan, with her yellow skin and diamond pattern tattoos across her face looked the same as ever. In stark contrast to me, her outfit was a full black dress, with a dark blue cloaked hood and cape.

"Fine, fine, just… what are you wearing?"

"A new style I picked up from Hapes," I shrugged.

The inevitable consequences of me being… me, was that my journey through the Jedi Academy was different from the OT Ahsoka. I had walked different social circles and cliques. In my old class of adepts, I had just somehow naturally fallen into what could be called the 'overachievers'.

There had been five of us and Barriss was one of them.

I had been very wary and standoffish of her at first. This was the person who would go on to betray the Jedi, kill a large number of people and frame the OT Ahsoka for the bombing using nano-droids to construct a hidden bomb out of a person. That was the distant future then, not so distant anymore. I had eventually made peace with the fact that this Barriss was not that Barriss and that perhaps my butterflies would set her on a different path.

In the meantime, we had become academic rivals and even friends of a sort. Though not to the extent that we kept in constant touch with each other. The events of the Clone War had propelled a lot of Jedi in different unexpected directions.

Barriss and her Master, Luminara Unduli, had been part of the 212 strong Jedi strike team sent to rescue Padme, Anakin and Obi-Wan from imprisonment on Geonosis. The event that had sparked the entire Clone War.

Her experience there had led to her declining to go with her master into the war, instead electing to serve in the Halls of Healing.

"Well," Barriss coughed a bit uncomfortably, "It's certainly… unique."

"Statement: Master, my charge levels are uncomfortably low. Request: May I be excused while you seek to refuel your own inefficient meatbag metabolism?"

I sighed wearily as Barriss regarded HK with astonishment. The blasted droid definitely had another ten hours left in his power cells. He was just using it as an occasion to rib me and leave me with the figurative hot potato in explaining his presence and manner.

"HK, go recharge," I snapped shortly.

"Statement: As you command, master. Signing you off."

The droid stomped off into the distance down the hall.

"A police droid?" Barriss queried with bafflement written plain on her face.

"HK is an old pre-Ruusan combat droid intelligence I rescued from the Seppies in the Outer Rim. The GU-chassis is just his current body. Rather than have him fall into their clutches to reverse engineer and copy, I brought him over to fight for us."

"Fascinating," she declared with a mild smile. "Anyway, I'm glad I finally caught you in person. Can we talk while you eat?"

"Sure," I nodded and led the way to the common mess hall.

This late in the evening there was barely anyone in the cavernous hall, except for the occasional night owl or other Jedi who were in my boat or species who had dietary cycles that didn't follow a traditional diurnal pattern.

The result being that the common's kitchens were a perpetually active space, with civilian and even Jedi cooks working in shifts round the clock. The Jedi working in the kitchen were generally recruited from the Agri-corps, though there were exceptions to that. Given I knew of one Jedi Master who occasionally took turns wearing a cook's apron.

I loaded my tray with meat and minimal Togruta-safe veggies. Barriss raised an enquiring eyebrow at the amount.

"After the workouts I do, this is very much necessary," I explained, as I cut the meat and placed a generous piece into my mouth. After a chew and swallow, I asked, "So what did you want to talk about?"

"Master Unduli spoke of your mission with her on the eastern rim and I read the reports… I wanted to express my thanks to you personally for saving her life." She bowed her head deeply.

I returned the bow as best I could in my seated position. "It was my duty and a pleasure to serve with her."

She nodded, suddenly keeping a poker face, but I could sense her disquiet and the conflict happening in her heart. "I… I should've been there."

It said quite a lot that she was even admitting this. The Barriss Offee I knew from before the Battle of Geonosis would've never opened herself to this extent to me. We had both clearly done a bit of growing up.

"Perhaps you should've," I could see my words had hurt, but I wasn't going to sugarcoat it. It was the raw truth. A padawan had a duty to their master, just as the master had a duty to the padawan. Strictly speaking, she should've been there right alongside me, fighting Ventress. Her work in the Healing halls with her strength in the Force turned towards healing, however, had been seen as valuable enough to grant her request of not following her master into the war. A minority of Jedi had objected to the Order's involvement in the GAR. They had generally been shuffled into rear echelon roles and the various peacetime roles and initiatives that the Order couldn't afford to stop doing.

"Then again, if you'd done that, I've read quite a number of Jedi would not be alive today."

"I try to console myself with that fact, yet I can't help but feel…" she trailed off, unable to find further words.

I calmly ate another few mouthfuls, trying to gather my thoughts and push my prescience. Naturally the bloody Shroud screwed things up the further I tried to look.

"Barriss, you chose a path that felt correct to you, with everything you knew at the time. If you now look back with the eyes of memory, was it all a mistake? Were you wrong?"

She sat back in her seat, clearly thinking hard, "No. I would make the same choice."

"Therefore you were true to yourself and I think Master Unduli understands and respects that. Many Jedi, I think, are not suited to go to war. It's just natural. You just have to research the old records of the draft conscription that occurred in the old Republic's Army of Light and see their performance to know that."

"We swore to defend the Republic though," she pointed out.

"That does not have to be done just on the battlefield waving a lightsaber about," I waved my fork in mock imitation and then poked it at her. "The medical branch is just as valid a place to act in the defense of the Republic, as it is when I stand on the bridge of a starship or run around the battlefield." I now gave her a teasing, crooked smile. "If I'm ever injured or near-death, how content shall I feel, knowing that the great Barriss Offee, healer extraordinaire, is there to rescue me from death's clutches."

"Stop that," she swatted at my shoulder, smiling slightly despite her dour mood.

"In the end, it's your decision, Barriss. Do you think you can return to the battlefield? Return to Master Unduli?"

"I- I really don't know. It just feels, staying here, tending to the wounded and the dying, day in, day out, for nearly nine months now… that I'm trying to stop a river with my bare hands. When what I should be doing is going to its source and damming it up."

"Then do that, make the choice but be sure that it's what you want. Just remember, that it won't be easy to back out again. Eventually you'll be in command of men, who'll be looking to you to make decisions that will achieve an objective, which will probably cost quite a few of them their lives."

I could see that the notion of that responsibility was quite daunting to her.

"How… how many have you lost? If you don't mind me asking."

"It's not a number that I can easily be sure about." I reached into the collar of the Hapan wrap around my chest and pulled out the necklace of clone pilot ID tags. "So much happens during a battle and sometimes you're only left with estimates of the number of ground pounders that died. But in terms of pilots under my command… twenty-two. I encode every name on these tags."

She looked rather baffled, "Why? Jedi do not mourn for those who pass into the Force."

"As a strict interpretation of the Code, no. It's not something that can be easily explained. If you decide to join the war, ask me the question again and I will answer. You need context and experience to understand that answer." She clearly didn't understand or wasn't happy with my non-answer. "Let's talk about an easier topic, what have the others been up to? With the amount of time I've had to be without general data access and all the other demands on my time, I've been remiss in keeping up to date."

"Well, as far as I know, Gahyic is doing well in the explorer corps. He's been gushing non-stop about all the discoveries they've made with the newfound access they have to Hutt space."

"That sullustan always did have his head in the stars," I chuckled.

"Aliura is with Master Grainer in the northern battlespaces. Her last letter indicated somewhere near Mygeeto."

"The north isn't looking too good at the moment," I explained. "Still, she was the best at bladework in our class, so we must trust she'll make it."

"Andan had to return to Alderaan though," Barriss looked rather annoyed. "Some troubles in the affairs of his family house that he had to attend to."

Andan, of House Alde of Alderaan. He was someone who could trace his ancestry back all the way to the original human colonists of that famous core world. A family that had united all the original warring houses and founded the first dynasty which ruled that world. Although in the subsequent turmoil and events of all the wars over thousands of years throughout the Old Republic, saw House Organa rising to take over rule of the planet. House Alde remained and their alliance with Organa was the primary reason internal peace had reigned over that world for more than two millennia now.

Though the ancient battles against the Sith had been an ever present specter that disturbed that peace.

Andan was the scientist of our little group, who could do math on a level that usually baffled me and would like no better than for the Jedi Order to give him a lab somewhere in the Temple complex and just leave him in peace to do research as a technologist. His near royal lineage, though, meant that the usual distancing from his birth family was not a viable option.

He was also quite handsome and I suspected that Barriss had a crush on him.

My plate of food was three-quarters done when my own comlink started beeping for attention.

I was sincerely tempted to just ignore it, just for a bit of petty payback, but I sensed that would not be a good idea.

My fist bumped the button and I continued eating, "Yes, Master?"

"Got a mission, sn- padawan," Anakin's voice emerged from my wrist.

"I'll be with you presently, master."

"Good," he said simply and cut the link.

I calmly continued eating.

"Aren't you going to go, Ahsoka?"

"It's not urgent, I'd know if it was."

Barriss nodded in understanding, "You know each other well."

"The bond between master and padawan," I shrugged.

She eventually stood and bowed at peer level, "Thanks for your time and advice, Ahsoka."

"May the Force be with you, Barriss Offee. I hope you come to the right decision."

"So do I."

My fingers were massaging my forehead, trying in vain to soothe the slight headache I was developing trying to juggle and parse what Anakin had told me.

"So now you have to convince Senator Amidala to spy on another senator, who's highly likely according to the Jedi Council, a traitor and working for the Seppies?"

"Correct," he confirmed, leaning against the kitchen counter of his quarters in the Temple.

"Not only that, but this 'potential traitor' is Senator Rush Clovis of Scipio and the Intergalactic Banking Clan and if this is proven, will put the stated neutrality of the banks in serious doubt."

It was one thing that continued to baffle my sensibilities about the Republic Senate, even though I knew the history that led to it. The idea that any commercial interest had representatives in a legislative governing body was utterly bonkers. Sure, on old Earth, there had been the bloody lobbyists, but at least they weren't given a front row seat and speaking time. You didn't see that Amazon or JPMorgan had a seat in the U.S. Senate, for example.

It made a wonderful argument for just dissolving the current Senate and asking all member worlds to elect and send someone new, kick the commercial interests out, and wipe the slate clean, though I didn't need prescience to tell me what a terrible idea that was at this stage.

"And to put the final layer on this cake, Clovis and… Padme had been in a relationship before," Anakin said with false cheer, which swiftly morphed to an unhappy scowl.

"So if she was to do this, she'd have to leverage that."

It didn't need to be said that this would make both of them very unhappy. Anakin looked at me and he didn't even need to thoughtspeak the question.

I brought my hands to rest in my lap casually and began to sign.

'Council is high probability correct. Clovis traitor. Intelligence critical and possibly time sensitive. Padme necessary.' Anakin looked even more unhappy as he understood the signs. If agree, she needs to prepare. Poison, weapon of choice in upper elite circles.

She knows that, has training, he returned.

I was about to continue arguing but the shifting probability lines had me freeze my hands. Though the Shroud, limited me to only seeing the ever flowing ends of the lines that reached towards me… this wasn't a good sign.

"Well, hopefully this entire exercise is pointless and I won't be able to convince her. Then it's just fact-finding for briefing the spy they eventually do choose to send. In any case, I didn't just call you here to tell you what I'm going to be doing tomorrow. You're going to report to the Resolute."

"Doing what?"

"There are indications of a Seppie offensive towards Dorin." It doesn't rain, it pours. That was the homeworld of the Kel Dor. "I need you to begin getting the ship ready in all respects while I deal with this spy business. Depending on how long it goes, you might even need to lead the counter-offensive yourself. I'll join you as soon as I can."

"Very well, master," I bowed and turned to leave.

I needed to send HK on a shopping trip to the lower levels and perhaps it was finally time to activate my undercover droid.

The next day I was sitting in my command chair on the Resolute's bridge. It was currently docked in the sprawling shipyard complexes on Coruscant's upper surface and taking on the final and minor bits of resupply that was necessary before it could head into battle.

I felt like my thumb was going to break off from all the digital requisition forms I had to sign with my biometrics.

"Commander, incoming communication from General Skywalker," a clone tech called from the port crew pit.

"Thanks Comms."

The holo Anakin that appeared hovering above my armrest was distinctly odd. He was wearing a RNSF uniform, specifically a pilot uniform.

"Master, given your appearance, I assume I am going it alone on this one?"

"Afraid so, Yularen will be there to back you up as usual. I'll be heading to Cato Neimoida within the hour. Make best speed for Dorin as soon as you are able."

"Understood, may the Force be with you, master."

"And you, padawan."

The holo vanished and I tented my hands under my chin as my mind wrestled with the probabilities. It was a three day journey to Cato, whilst it would only take me two days to reach Dorin. That meant it was highly likely that I'd be in the middle of a battle when Padme, Clovis and Anakin arrived.

I couldn't wait to leave the blasted miasma of the Shroud behind me.

Well, I couldn't be physically present, but from a certain point of view, my methods would be there to keep an eye on things.

"Comms, how long?"

"Commander, dockmaster reports at least another two hours before loading is complete and that is going as fast as he dares."

I had probably been sending one too many status requests. Even if they finished in the next second, Admiral Yularen still needed to make it here from wherever he was when off-duty on Coruscant.

"Very well, send him my thanks for his hard work."

"Roger, Commander.

Padme Amidala felt as if she was in a special form of purgatory that Shiraya sent those who had insulted the moon goddess's honor or defaced any of her statues. It was the only explanation she could really come up with.

It took every ounce of comportment training she had received since she was a young girl being trained for the queenship, to keep herself from flinching or shuddering as she strung Rush Clovis along. Keeping him both interested and deflecting things from going too far for her liking was a delicate balance. One that she had managed to keep going for the entire journey to Cato Neimoida so far. Rush was far from an ugly man and had her heart not been captured by Anakin, she could easily see herself pursuing a relationship once again with the Scipian senator.

She counted her blessings that she had thought to use her personal yacht for the trip, allowing her to attain very welcome periods of privacy thanks to the ship's size.

Her current 'hiding' place was the ship's hyperdrive engineering space. The hum of its operation was a soothing sound that never failed to relax her.

The small door to the bay opened and she swiftly donned her polite mask of normality.

The golden body of C3P0 awkwardly bent itself to waddle into the engineering bay, "Ah, Mistress Padme, there you are. There is an urgent communique from the Naboo Health Ministry for your attention."

She sighed and glanced at the chrono on her wrist.

It was about time to drop out of hyperspace anyway and a goddess sent further excuse to waste time.

C3P0 led the way into the small secure comm room and Padme used her personal code to seal and secure it physically and electronically.

The droid began to work the controls on the holotable and flat holo-images with documented scripts bearing the Royal seal of Naboo resolved themselves.

'That's odd,' she thought, frowning at the contents. "3P0, these aren't marked as urgent."

"That is correct, mistress Padme. I was instructed to bring you to a secure location to deliver a different message covertly."

"By whom?" C3P0 was her protocol droid. She knew Anakin also had mastery permissions, was this his doing?

"By Master Anakin's apprentice."

Ahsoka?

The protocol droid brought forth a small flat, rather ornate case and placed it on the holotable, opened it and presented it to her. Inside was what looked like an entire perfume kit; a number of small spray bottles, even a few old-fashioned capped bottles. All made of glass and decorated beautifully. It was worth quite a bit of credits and she had no idea how the young Jedi would have afforded it.

"What's the message?" she asked almost breathlessly. Any message that Ahsoka wanted to convey in such a clandestine manner had to be related to her current endeavor to spy on Rush, especially considering her talents in foresight. Why it wasn't being relayed through Anakin was also curious.

"Padawan Tano bids that the mistress uses this during her time on Cato Neimoida. It is a disguised poison resistance kit, updated to current day standards. Usage instructions are hidden underneath the placeholders for the bottles and a few other necessities."

Padme delicately worked a finger into the gap and lifted the inner placeholder and sure enough a very fine printed fibrous sheet was there, that had instructions and identification for what each bottle did. The kit was seemingly designed to work in preventing poisoning in the first place. Spraying every bit of exposed skin with the bottles created a membrane that stopped contact absorption. There were also lip shaped covers which could be tailored and easily hidden with lipstick.

One of the bottles was also something that you had to drink an hour or two before eating or drinking anything that would be potentially poisoned. It wasn't foolproof protection but would delay onset of symptoms until help or antidote could be procured.

She recalled her own training in socially seamless ways to make sure that you weren't being poisoned. Never being the first to eat, making sure that all portions were being served in sight of all the guests, keeping hold of your own cup, always keeping it sight from the corner of your eye and so on. This training was more than a decade old though, and she was ashamed to admit that keeping it current had totally escaped her mind.

The lip shielding was very worrying to see. Was Ahsoka foreseeing that Rush was going to try to poison her with a kiss?

"Anything else 3P0?"

"There are two more specific messages that I am to relay to you, mistress. Padawan Tano says, 'You are his weakness, use it,' and 'Copy, don't transfer.'"

Padme was baffled for a moment, turning the words around in her head.

Who's weakness? She could see that she was Anakin's weakness… if their marriage ever came out, but he had very little involvement in the spy mission besides being her pilot and hidden bodyguard if things went very wrong.

She was Rush's weakness though. Had she not used their prior relationship to get them this far? It obviously had more meaning that she was not seeing… yet.

The same applied for the second message. Those were terms usually used in information tech. She would need evidence of any treason and the high density data holocube she had acquired for the mission to download anything she found…

Copy… don't transfer…

This is maddening, she thought to herself. Ahsoka clearly had some end goal that she couldn't see and most likely wouldn't see completely until she talked with the Jedi herself.

"Thanks 3P0. Out of curiosity, when did she contact you?"

"It was a number of hours before we left Coruscant, my lady. She also had a very rude and annoying droid deliver the poison kit."

That had to be HK-47. She closed the 'perfume' case and felt the slight shudder through the ship as it exited hyperspace.

"Come, 3P0, we have a mission to do."

"Launch fighters."

My order was prompt, crisp and like any other. Keeping the frustration out of my voice was becoming harder though.

Once again, roughly two hundred thousand kilometers from Dorin, was a Recusant-class light destroyer at the primary emergence point for the planet.

The Vulture and Hyena droids, clinging like ticks to the surface of the CIS ship, promptly reconfigured and launched themselves at us.

This was the fourth such attack launched against the Kel Dor homeworld within less than a standard day.

I took in the astrographic map of the system, pushing forward with my prescience. Right, time to change things up a bit. Tracing my hand through the projected holo, I highlighted four points, including one near one of the Dorin moons. It would allow for the squadron sent there to have a nice bit of gravity assist in their speed.

"Resolute command to all squadrons, target courses transmitting, engage at will."

I received acknowledgement from every Republic squadron, then with a slight delay, the fighters of the Kel Dor Unified Clan Defense Force also acknowledged my orders.

Thankfully for the homeworld of my close friend, Master Plo Koon, their people had a high technology base and their presence in the Expansion Region of the galaxy, meant they were well versed in looking after themselves from the predations of pirates and criminals. Dorin was also one of the rare worlds which wasn't scrambling to upgrade and modernize defenses. They even had a planetary defense grid, ostensibly for keeping the homeworld safe from asteroids.

It was even a perfectly legitimate system even in a post-Ruusan Republic, given that Dorin was a very large world and its gravitational influence seemed to enjoy giving the Kel Dor a potential extinction level event nearly every generation.

That they even survived to this day was thanks to the Baran Do Sages. A very obscure native order of Force sensitives among the Kel Dor. The sages were near mythical, and to see one was very rare even among Kel Dor. Their major affinity was right up my alley, prediction of events, mostly weather and neatly included incoming asteroids seeking to end all life on the planet.

When they had advanced to the point of being space capable enough to deflect these asteroids, the sages had turned to preventing other dangerous events, preventing other disasters and averting wars.

Joining the Republic had not been kind to the sages though, as the Force sensitive younglings were most often sent to the Jedi Order, instead of the more limited sages. They still enjoyed a shadowy and reverential power among the more traditional Kel Dor clans.

As demonstrated when a number of generals among the KUDF questioned why they should follow the orders of a togrutan teenager.

Seeing the looks on those general's faces when a Sage revealed themselves and essentially told them, "Shut the fuck up and listen… or else…" was hilarious. It was especially interesting given that the generals had been unmasked at the time.

My musings were interrupted by catching Admiral Yularen in the corner of my eye visibly struggling to not take a catnap on his feet and possibly falling over. He reached into his pocket where I knew a stim was waiting.

"Admiral, go to bed. I really don't want to have to make it an order."

The chain of command was thankfully clear here, though it was still odd as hell to my sensibilities that I was 'technically' his superior, just because I was a Jedi. It was a power I vowed never to exercise, unless a situation exactly like this cropped up.

The whole tactical situation was only surprising to me in that it had taken this long for the CIS to try it. Droids didn't need to obey a conventional sleep cycle, they merely needed a recharge. In the case of a B1, it was about 30 hours, which would be reduced to 18 hours under combat conditions - if the droid even lasted that long. On a ship, with handy recharge stations, there were no such limits.

By attacking in six hour intervals in penny pinch packets, with just enough force that required a significant response from the Republic defenders - it was disrupting the sleep cycles of the clones. Even keeping things going in shifts wasn't really helping, because of the alert alarms and the activity of those on-shift was disturbing those trying to get rest.

The only thing mitigating this was the presence of the KUDF and their aerospace bases on the planet below.

"I'm fine, Commander," Yularen replied primly, his hands snapping away from his pockets with the stim unused.

"You are a human in your middle ages," I retorted firmly. "The days where you could go 48 hours with no sleep are long behind you."

To further emphasize my point, I turned my chair to face him fully, giving my best stern command face.

Yularen thinned his lips and I could see him wrestle with the decision in his mind. Thankfully, wisdom and practicality won the day over pride.

"Very well, Commander. I shall call for Captain Sal to relieve me."

"Excellent, at least five hours Admiral, I'll be able to sense if you cheat."

That Yularen even mumbled, "Bloody Jedi," under his breath as he gave a salute and left the bridge, showed the extent of the usually perfectly composed admiral's exhaustion. He seemed to have even forgotten that my hearing was an order of magnitude more sensitive than a human.

The fighter squadrons inched closer and closer on the holo map.

Finally, the angry red pings of missiles being launched from both sides, sprang into existence.

"Once more, unto the breach, dear friends, once more."