Author's Note: Yay a new chapter! I'm very glad to post this week. I've been meaning to for a while, but ya know, life is busy and crazy, especially in the summer. No content warnings this chapter. Enjoy!

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Chapter 13

Ahsoka stood centered in the High Council Chamber, half blinded by the setting sun. The glare painted orange and pink tones into the patterned mandala floor and a glow over the High Council's silhouettes. The scene would have been inviting, warm even, if one could ignore the tense atmosphere.

"Padawan Tano, some would call your actions against Padawan Offee attempted murder."

Ahsoka twitched. She heard a rustle as a few masters shifted in their seats, and though Ahsoka wasn't exactly shocked, (Obi-Wan had briefed her when she was summoned), the accusation still stung.

Master Windu kept his voice even. "Would you like to defend yourself?"

What a question… Would she like to relive one of the worst moments of her life and explain everything that happened— again? Not particularly. Ahsoka rubbed her left shoulder. It was aching again, a side effect from her spleen injury. Apparently, it was normal; this pain crawling up from behind her ribs like a different Geonosian parasite. Ahsoka restrained a shiver. Another round of bacta would probably take care of it, after this trial-that's-not-a-trial. Ahsoka felt the Council would probably give her that much, even if she was found guilty.

"I had no intention of– murder, Master." The word felt heavy on her tongue, and she didn't want to speak of it at all, but the thought that she could be found guilty was heavier than the words and it provoked a kind of dread that sent her mind skipping a thousand different directions.

The Masters looked at each other. There were a few disgruntled grunts.

Ahsoka did her best not to grimace, dropping her gaze to the floor. An orange glow from the setting sun cast her magenta boots as auburn. Beside her tabard, her boots were the only item of clothing she kept from her previous mission. They'd cut off her tube top and mini skirt during surgery. She'd been given new garments, traditional Jedi apparel: brown tunics and cream trousers and a plain brown belt. They hung long and loose across her body. The belt compensated for the slack by cinching into her stomach, which Ahsoka thought may have been the root of her nausea, never mind the conversation. She missed her old belt, and her leggings. Her new trousers were baggy and airy, like she wasn't wearing pants at all, which only made her feel more exposed before the Council. The tunics dragged at her aching shoulders and bulked around her armpits, and the fabric— it was scratchy at the seams, and there was so much of it. The whole ensemble made her feel small.

Which, Ahsoka tipped her head, shoulders shrinking in, I suppose is appropriate for a trial. However, "not-a-trial" the Council claimed it to be.

Suddenly, there were murmurs from the Masters, and Ahsoka realized she'd drifted far away from their discussion.

"… Padawan?" Master Windu scolded. Ahsoka blinked.

"Excuse me, Master." She chewed on her bottom lip. "Um. What was the question?"

Master Windu gave Obi-Wan a pointed look, as if her lack of attention was her grandmaster's fault. She supposed, in Anakin's absence, Obi-Wan was probably the first choice as guardian. But, she wondered if her true master even knew she was on trial this evening, and she wondered, against her better judgement, just how planned his absence was. She'd been discharged from the med station and shipped back to Coruscant a few days early, when the Council knew Anakin would still be fighting on Dantooine, and far enough in the Outer Rim that even if they did inform him of the not-quite-a-trial, he probably still wouldn't make it on time. But why put her on trial without him? For what purpose? To absolve her apprenticeship without objection? To remove her from the order? But Obi-Wan was here. And Master Plo. Surely, they wouldn't—

"Claim self-defense, do you Padawan?" Master Yoda asked in Master Windu's stead.

Ahsoka gulped. "Yes, Master." She clenched her hands in and out of fists, hidden inside the robe's sleeves. She supposed there was one benefit to wearing traditional apparel.

Obi-Wan nodded at her, a pinched smile on his face. In the Force, she felt him brush against their bond, a light and fleeting touch, like he was assessing if their bond was still sealed. Ahsoka frowned, her gaze following the shadows across the chamber floor. They stretched long and blue as the sun dipped behind skyscrapers; jagged and glittering, like a jewel or a kyber crystal.

"The presence of Geonosian parasites is a factor to be accounted for…" One Master was saying.

"Padawan Tano was not infected." Windu's tone was clipped. Ahsoka blinked through the sunset, watching the sky deepen from pink to red.

"Yes, but to what extent does the parasite control its host? Can all of Bariss' actions be accounted for under that—"

"Please Master!" Master Windu used his fist as a gavel against his armchair. "Padawan Tano's actions are being discussed, not Bariss Offee's."

"Padawan Bariss Offee played a significant role! Shouldn't her actions be addressed in tandem?"

"Citizen Bariss Offee has been discharged as a commander, removed as an active padawan, and will become a permanent resident of the Grand Republic Medical Facility when she returns to Coruscant. What more is there to address?"

Ahsoka felt like a building dropped on top of her, the way Master Windu's words crashed through the room. She heaved a gasping breath. Bariss was removed. As in expelled? Oh Force. Her gaze flit to Obi-Wan. "Masters. I hadn't heard… Bariss… she's been expelled from the Order?"

Obi-Wan opened his mouth, but Windu spoke.

"Expulsion is a term reserved for those in direct opposition to the will of the Force." Windu frowned at her. "Bariss Offee has been medically discharged."

"But she's a Jedi. She may not fight but—" Ahsoka's heart beat, every thump a war within herself. Back on the frigate, before the worms, she and Bariss had talked about this. Warriors, peacekeepers. Bariss said she didn't know which they were, but now it seemed the decision was made for her. Peacekeeping was a lifelong commitment. It couldn't be decommissioned. But a wounded soldier in battle… "Master, are we keepers of the peace or warriors?"

"Padawan—"

"You're expelling her for a casualty, like a soldier, but she's not a soldier, she's a Jedi." Ahsoka looked about the room. "She serves the Force, not the war. You can't—"

"Padawan Tano!" Ahsoka blinked. Windu's stare was piercing. "This Council has not asked for your approval."

Ahsoka clenched her jaw. Master Windu was glowering at her. Master Plo's face was pinched. Obi-Wan reached for his beard. Didn't Bariss have anyone to advocate for her?

Master Yoda tapped his walking staff against his seat, garnering everyone's attention. "Further discuss this matter, we shall not. However, decide the outcome of this trial, we must." He fixed Ahsoka with a steady gaze. "Pleads not guilty, Padawan Tano has. Hear her out, we shall, about the supply run."

Ahsoka swallowed her frustrations. Keeping the peace. She thought to herself, ironically. Dusk stretched into the Chamber now. The thin stripes of red sunlight faded away. There were no stars in the height of the sky; Coruscant's light pollution was its own nightlight. The Chamber followed suite, succumbing to blues and greys but lit by florescent white lights.

"Ahsoka, share of your mission, will you?" Master Yoda tipped his chin to her. She took a deep breath.

"I—"

"Please excuse the interruption, Masters." Ahsoka whirled around. In through the chamber doors stalked Anakin Skywalker, obscured by shadows in all but face, robe billowing about his dark figure like he himself was a storm at sea. The Force churned around him and swelled to fill the room, barely tempered in its fullness. He locked eyes with Ahsoka.

The florescent lights highlighted her master's brow and a broken crook in his nose. It cut a fierce picture; his scar accented while his shadowed eyes sank back into his skull and his stubborn jaw bound up tight. This was battle-ready Anakin, not diplomat Anakin. Ahsoka swore internally, recognizing that without their Force bond, there would be no preventing this disaster to come. Her master turned to the Council.

"We are in the middle of a proceeding!" Master Mundi exclaimed.

"Involving my padawan." Anakin retorted. Windu straightened, and like a duel, he and Anakin spoke together, each voice escalating in tone and volume. "Without my presence or prior knowledge, violating every courtesy I'm entitled to as her master—"

"Your presence here suggests you abandoned your campaign—"

"You pulled her from the med station early—"

"—to attend a meeting to which you were not invited."

Anakin stepped forward and the Force moved with him.

"Ahsoka is my Padawan learner," he growled. He pivoted to address the entirety of the room, voice raising, "and she is innocent from any charges on the grounds of self-defense!"

"This is not a trial," Master Windu stared him down, "but even if it were, that would be for us to decide."

"Decide from her mission report. I'm taking her to the halls of healing."

All eyes shot to Ahsoka, and all of a sudden, she realized she was clutching her ribs with one hand while the other dropped low at her side. Her lekku bloomed navy and her cheeks burned, and then Anakin was at her side, taking her by the elbow, not waiting for the Council to excuse them, saying: "Let's go, Ahsoka."

Ahsoka's temper flared. She was handling the meeting fine! She'd had it handled! But then he strode right in and mangled everything up and— Anakin tugged her toward the door.

"Master!" She snapped, ripping her arm out of his grasp. The motion aggravated the ache in her side, but she fixed him with a glare and ignored it.

He looked down at her, gaze scanning her furrowed eye markings and scowling mouth, and suddenly the resolve in his expression faltered, like he'd truly believed striding in and defending her like some white Jedi knight was everything she'd wanted. Ahsoka shook her head and looked about the room.

The Jedi Masters all looked upset, but Windu seemed especially livid. Ahsoka thought he might spit. Obi-Wan lounged in his seat and yet remained completely rigid. Master Yoda frowned, deep and solemn, then raised a hand to the room.

"Go." The Grandmaster spoke slowly. No one raised an objection. "To the healing halls, take her, Skywalker. But," he fixed Anakin with a glare, "not pleased is this council with your actions today."

Silence in the room.

"We will return to this discussion another time." Master Windu promised, his tone silk but icy.

Anakin pressed his lips into a thin line. His gaze lingered on Obi-Wan a second too long, but then he turned to Ahsoka, jutted his chin to the door, and whisked himself from the room. Ahsoka grit her teeth and followed.

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Alright y'all, I'm super excited for what's to come! If you're wondering how far along this story is, we're about halfway through. Hopefully, I'll get chapter 14 out sooner than this one. Look for it in a couple weeks on Friday. And as always, please review if you feel so inclined, and thanks for reading!