Author's Note: If you're reading through this chapter and you're like "hey, this dialogue sounds familiar", that's because this scene takes place in the beginning of the episode "Grievous Intrigue" in the Clone Wars. Although, with this fanfic's variation from the canon, the scene goes down a little differently...
I also introduce a couple new temporary characters into this chapter: Mo'ore and Pleieth. For reference, Mo'ore you pronounce as Moore with a break between the two "o"s. And you say Pleieth as "plee-eh-th". It should be two syllables. Run it through your head a few times, so you don't stumble over her name. Now you have no excuse. You're welcome. :)
No content warnings.
...
Chapter 17
Ahsoka forced her fists to loosen into open palms. Each step took her closer to the Communication Center down the hall and away from Anakin in the turbolift. She chewed her tongue.
Her actions in the lift already hadn't been the best choice, but then when Anakin slammed into the glass of the carriage and shook the whole compartment and rattled the metal mechanism, Ahsoka's regret doubled over. The clanking reverberated loud in her montrals and the floor quaked under her boots. She clutched the thin railing with white knuckles, hearing the creak of a different metal structure back on Geonosis, feeling the explosion that blew their tank across the room. Her legs shook.
But when a low voice snapped out a question and the figure next to her shifted, Ahsoka remembered it wasn't Bariss, it was Anakin, and they were in the turbolift, safe on Coruscant in the Jedi Temple. So Ahsoka pulled her thoughts away from Geonosis and responded to him, using the festering silence as time to still her trembling arms.
She'd been having more nightmares about the droid factory and the supply mission—except this time, they weren't induced by painkillers—and each time she woke, her body shuddered like a leaf in the wind. The same as what happened in the turbolift.
Ahsoka took a breath and cleared her mind. The Communication Center was directly ahead. She walked the last few steps, the door swooshing open to accommodate her, and strode through, standing just inside the doorway as it whorled shut behind her. Blinking to adjust her eyes, Ahsoka surveyed the room.
The Communication Center was dark, glowing with the blues of holograms and warm yellow lights embedded in the walls. The space depressed into the floor like an amphitheater. The walls rounded into an oval around a circular control console which could project schematics or holograms, making the space ideal for Order-wide presentations or briefing large-crew missions.
Memories from her education as a Jedi Initiate came to mind as Ahsoka scanned the room. Over there, a spot on the third-tier ledge was her self-assigned seat in her Galactic Current Events class. Years ago, in a hide-and-seek match, she'd hid around the center console and in the darker corners of the room while her friends searched for her. Once, when she was trying to keep up with her creche clan, she'd careened into Master Saesee Tiin and then fallen flat on her back with a yelp, before looking up to see the Master Jedi looming over her and clicking his tongue. Ahsoka winced, seeing it all over again. She'd apologized profusely and the children in her clan giggled behind their hands until their teacher shepherded them away to their next lesson.
But looking over the room now, the Communication Center was milling with Jedi young and old, all crowding around the center console. The High Council members were already present, Master Obi-Wan standing among them in the first ring of viewers. Ahsoka frowned.
Obi-Wan had been sparse with details over the comm, simply requesting her presence for a meeting and something about a transmission. She had assumed that meant a mission briefing, but with the Communication Center so full, perhaps she'd been wrong. Ahsoka did her best to squash the disappointment blooming in her chest.
A shadow fell across her back, blocking the light from the hallway filtering in around her. She flicked a glance over her shoulder to see Anakin following her into the room, and repressed a scowl, though she didn't quite prevent a muscle from twitching in her jaw.
"After you, Snips." He muttered.
Ahsoka descended the stairs into the Communication Center with Anakin at her six. Their boots lifted and fell in sync until their strides matched, like they were reflections of one another, but Ahsoka saw their disconnect more vibrantly than ever. There was a hypocrisy to all the pretending. Like standing opposite on two shores of an abysmal rift and acting like there was a bridge between them for the sake of everyone standing around… It made Ahsoka grit her teeth.
Looking around for anything else to think about, she spotted Master Tera Sinube and a pair of younglings standing at the base of the amphitheater. She'd instructed the younglings during a guest lecture after losing her lightsaber in Coruscant's seedy undercity (something Anakin still didn't know about, and as far as she was concerned, never needed to), and had made several more visits to the creche afterwards, comforted by the younglings' simple version of the universe. But Ahsoka didn't want to think about how grey her galaxy had become. Instead, she nodded to retired Master Sinube and ambled over to the younglings. Both of their faces broke into grins.
"Padawan Ahsoka!" The first said. That was Mo'ore, an excitable Nemoidian boy with a thousand questions and green skin. He skipped up to her and latched onto her hand.
"Mo'ore," Ahsoka chuckled a greeting. She felt another small palm slip into hers, and looked down to see a rosy, grey-skinned Duros girl peering up at her.
"Hello," the girl murmured with a small smile.
"Hello Pleieth." When Ahsoka worked with the younglings, she found Pleieth to be shier than her friend, her voice soft and her demeanor anxious, and yet the two were inseparable. Ahsoka gave her hand a squeeze.
"Padawan Ahsoka, you're friends with Bariss right?" Mo'ore's thin, sweet voice lilted towards her. As innocent as the question seemed, it froze Ahsoka in place. Pleieth tugged on her hand.
"Ahsoka?" The girl look up at her curiously. Ahsoka swallowed hard.
"Yes, we were friends..." She said warily, and forced a smile before either child could dig further into that statement. "Why do you ask?"
"Well, I was just wondering because I thought maybe you'd wanna go see her when she gets home." Mo'ore said cheerily. He was using Ahsoka's arm like a tether, rambling about in a circle, scuffing his boots against the carpet, oblivious to the bomb he just dropped over Ahsoka's warring mind.
She blanched. "Oh?"
"Yeah!" The boy chirped. "She gets home tomorrow night. I heard Master Windu talking."
Tomorrow. Shock shackled Ahsoka to the floor. That was no time at all. Why didn't Anakin warn her? Ahsoka clenched her toes in her boots, feeling the need to run far away, but she forced herself to remain motionless. She was right where she needed to be. If a mission was being distributed in this meeting, she could get on it—she needed to get on it.
"There's a hologram," Pleieth said solemnly, pointing a grey finger deeper into the room. Ahsoka followed her finger to the ring of Jedi Masters around the center holotable, where the console flickered to life. Between bodies, an ominous red hologram cast its light over the room, stretching long shadows behind the Jedi circled around it. Ahsoka straightened, weaving into a gap for a clear view, squinting against the red glare illuminating her face. This was not one of the Republic's messages.
"Greetings, Jedi. It would seem, once again, one of your Order has lost his way." The tinny voice of General Grievous echoed off the walls and then he materialized in the transmission, large and imposing and gripping a weakened Master Eeth Koth by the throat under metal claws. Ahsoka's eyes widened. Grievous yanked Master Koth back and forth, the Jedi choaking under his grasp. "And, even better, a leading member of your Jedi Council!"
Mo'ore fell still by her side, clutching her wrist with both hands, eyes locked on the hologram. Pleieth stepped one foot toward the recording. Ahsoka too watched with bated breath and noticed the other Masters on the Council narrowing their eyes. Across the console, Obi-Wan stroked his beard. Anakin crossed his arms.
"Listen to me, Jedi," Grievous continued, "I do not care about your politics. I do not care about your Republic. I only live to see youdie!" He threw Master Koth to the ground, bashing the Jedi's face against hard steel and cutting a lash across the bridge of his nose. "But death will not come so easily for Master Koth. I will make him suffer endlessly, because I know that is more painful for you all!"
General Grievous took a step back and a Magna Guard droid took his place.
Ahsoka knew what was coming. She'd felt the sting of an electro staff once or twice herself. She clenched her jaw in anticipation, and sure enough, the droid rammed its weapon into Master Koth's back. He howled with pain.
Mo'ore flinched away like he'd been struck and buried his face into Ahsoka's side, snaking tiny fingers around her belt, clinging to her. Pleieth flung her hands over her eyes the next moment, shrinking into Ahsoka's stomach and whimpering softly. She held them both, rubbing Mo'ore's back and cupping the nape of Pleieth's neck.
They shouldn't be here, watching this, Ahsoka thought. Their Force presences were warm and sparkling snuggled into her side, like hope, even in wartime. Little orbs of light. And all she wanted to do was keep them pure and safe and far away from the threats of battle, so much so that it was a thorn in her side.
From the hologram, General Grievous laughed maniacally. She glanced up and, across the console, she and Anakin locked eyes. His expression was tight. His eyes flickered over her and then the younglings in her embrace. Grievous' laugh rasped into a cough. Ahsoka looked aside, back to Mo'ore and Pleieth.
"Away with the younglings," Master Yoda said solemnly. Pleieth peered up at Ahsoka, eyes wide. She nodded, turning both children to the door as Master Yoda addressed the Jedi Knights and Masters. "Much to discuss, there is."
"Go with Master Sinube," she said, nudging them to follow the rest of their clan. They hesitated, peeking at her over their shoulders.
"But what about you?" Mo'ore squeaked.
Pleieth said, "Aren't you coming with us?"
Ahsoka shushed them with a finger to her lips. "I've got to stay and help take care of General Grievous." And if she could get off Coruscant on an official mission before Bariss returns, all the better.
The younglings frowned. Pleieth bit her lip. Mo'ore clutched Ahsoka's wrist again.
"But I don't think you're allowed—" said Pleieth.
"I want to stay with you—" Mo'ore said at the same time.
"No, not this time." Ahsoka interrupted firmly. "Go on now."
She gave them a push toward the others and restrained a frown, trying not to let her frustration show on her face. Master Yoda dismissed the younglings, which Mo'ore and Pleieth thought meant her too. She'd been wrapped into the 'youngling' category… again. Ahsoka shook her head.
Mo'ore and Pleieth were children. They didn't distinguish friends between youngling and grown up; how could she expect them to understand? Ahsoka watched them plod after Master Sinube, then turned to the holotable, ignoring the fact that she was the only Padawan learner in the room. There were more important things to worry about right now than how welcome she was. In fact, no one else even seemed to notice—except Anakin.
From across the console he gave her a pointed look— a scowl like he couldn't believe her, like he really didn't want to claim her as his padawan right now. Ahsoka was confident that that's what he'd be saying if their Force bond was active, but since it wasn't, she planted her feet, crossed her arms, and raised both white eye markings instead.
Really, Master? Here? Now?
She must be getting remarkably good at communicating with him without their training bond, because his only response was a twitch of the lips and a dramatic, the-universe-is-ending eyeroll before fixing his gaze back on the Jedi Masters circled around the holotable. Ahsoka smirked.
Not a youngling, she thought, triumphantly.
Around them, Jedi Masters were discussing General Grievous' message, murmuring and staring at the space where the hologram used to be.
"It's time somebody finally put an end to that monster." Master Adi Gallia said, addressing the group.
"On that, agreed we are." Master Yoda replied. "How to find him, the question remains."
"After engaging Grievous, we lost contact with Master Koth. He could be anywhere." Obi-Wan said.
In Master Plo Koon's projected hologram, Commander Wolfe appeared at his shoulder, and the Jedi inclined his head to him. Ahsoka watched as Master Plo listened to his commander. She stroked the new leather armbands he'd brought as a gift her while she was recovering in the halls of healing.
Jedi were a people of many cultures, a diverse melting pot of species and backgrounds and heritages, where an individual was allowed and even encouraged to participate in traditions from their birth culture. When she was thirteen, Ahsoka traveled to Shili for the same reason. She killed an Akul, a ferocious feline beast that terrorized the local settlement hosting her. The Togruta there taught Ahsoka how to strip the beast of its teeth and fashion them into a beaded headdress, as a trophy adornment of her courage and skill. Ahsoka returned to Coruscant very honored of her Togrutan heritage.
But Ahsoka had been both Togrutan and Force sensitive since she was born, belonging to the Jedi culture just as much as Shili's. Even though the beings at the Temple around her were a thousand different species and carried with them a thousand different ways of life, they were all unified as kin, as one people. The Jedi.
The armbands Master Plo gifted her were not just for attire; they carried deep and spiritual symbolism within the Jedi culture. They represented luck, a warrior's inner strength, and protection against harm in battle. Plus, for Master Plo to give them, they meant he considered Ahsoka family. She warmed at the thought, outlining the band's diamond cutout with her index finger. He even made them match her skin markings.
Master Plo turned to the Council of Jedi around them. "Commander Wolfe has found a message in the hologram."
Ahsoka focused on the transmission. Master Plo asked to rewind the hologram to the brutal moment after Master Koth's electrocution. The Jedi zoomed into Eeth Koth's motionless hand. Or was it motionless? Ahsoka squinted as the message repeated. The Jedi Master shifted his hand weakly but intentionally, extending fingers in steady motions.
"Hand signals." Anakin exclaimed. He turned to Obi-Wan.
Obi-Wan leaned in. "I admit my skills are rusty, but…" He trailed off, studying the hand signals. Ahsoka smiled, feeling a swell of pride. Her grandmaster excelled in many languages and many methods of communication… that's why they called him the Negotiator.
"Saleucami system, Sector J-19, zero-eight, zero-five, two-nine." Obi-Wan finished.
"Saleucami?" Master Adi frowned. "But intelligence reported Grievous has no ships near that sector."
"Yes, but so often inaccurate our intelligence is." Master Yoda replied, with a tinge of humor in his tone, though none showed in his expression. There was a pause amongst the Jedi, and then Ahsoka watched Obi-Wan straighten and step forward.
"I will go." He said, determination lacing his words.
Only a beat passed before Anakin followed suite. He brushed arms with his old master and acknowledged Master Yoda with the dip of his chin. "So will I."
Ahsoka nodded slowly. Unfortunately, if she wanted to continue her Jedi training, she had to tolerate Anakin's presence. So... him volunteering was good. It was about time they went on a new mission together.
"And I." Master Adi Gallia's voice chimed in. Ahsoka took in a breath, a fire building in her chest, a shining conviction in her eyes.
"And I." Ahsoka repeated with finality, stepping into the red light of the hologram. A dozen heads turned. She held her chin high and her back straight and just like the others, nodded to Master Yoda—
"NO."
Ahsoka swiveled around to meet Anakin's piercing stare. He'd said the word like a growl, two octaves lower than his normal register. She felt her nose flare and her brow twitch, and then for a moment, the only thing exchanged between them were heated glares. Ahsoka knew she couldn't argue with him directly in front of the High Council, but she knew that Anakin knew he couldn't say anything more, lest he reveal the severity of their conflict. They were at a standstill.
Obi-Wan cleared his throat. "Perhaps it's best to leave this mission to the masters, Padawan Tano."
She should have stopped there. Already, the use her full title by her grandmaster sent a red flag flailing through her mind, but Ahsoka chose not to focus on it, turning instead to the broader council of Jedi. She held her arms open like a senator bequeathing a crowd with good tidings, the way she'd seen Padme occasionally address her audiences.
"Masters," she open-palm gestured to the hologram, "this development could turn the tide of the war. Shouldn't we send any Jedi volunteer willing and able to go, especially those with experience with General Grievous?" The Masters shuffled and Ahsoka quickened her speech. "I've dueled General Grievous… once before— and studied his techniques. Plus, as Master Skywalker's padawan, learning at his side by sharing the risks of the mission is—"
"I'm not willing to share the risks of this mission." Anakin snapped. She turned to face him, tight-lipped, daggers in her eyes. His stance was rigid. She turned back to the Council hopefully.
"Your master has made his decision clear." Master Plo hummed. "You'd be wise to heed his orders, Little 'Soka."
"Go on this mission, you will not Padawan." Master Yoda tapped his staff against the carpeted floor. Ahsoka felt her hope sink and die, leaving the red warning blaring full force through her mind. She chewed on her bottom lip, confident now she'd made a grave mistake speaking at all. Master Yoda turned and grunted to Anakin. "Discuss with your student in private, you shall."
Ahsoka half-turned away, ducking her head, insecurely crossing her arms, and fingering the thread of the bands across her bicep. Weren't these things supposed to be lucky?
Anakin bowed to Master Yoda. "As you instruct, Master."
Great. Now she was in real bantha fodder.
Meeting adjourned, the Masters acknowledged one another and began gliding toward the Communication Center exit. From his projected place across the console, Master Plo gave her a single solemn nod. She returned it, sheepishly, and each of the hologram Jedi disappeared. Obi-Wan clasped a hand on Anakin's shoulder on his way out and based on the way her master relaxed a little, Ahsoka got the feeling Obi-Wan said something in her favor through their old training bond.
In the Force, Ahsoka pushed a wave of gratitude his direction. It ricocheted off the shield she'd erected between them, slumping like a Nuevian sundae on hot pavement. Ahsoka gulped. She'd forgotten that their bond was sealed. She never forgot with Anakin's…
Ahsoka flit her gaze to the floor, listening for the Communication Center's doors to close. They did with a thwoop.
Anakin whirled on her. "What on Iego's moons was that?"
"I—"
"Didn't I teach you to be mindful what you say in front of the Council?"
"Yes but—"
"I gave you a direct answer and you ignored it." His tone darkened.
"Master, I—"
"Force! You shouldn't have even been in the room!" He pressed his thumb and forefinger into his eyes like there was an ache behind them. "You're not ready."
Ahsoka sucked in a sharp breath. Something rebelled inside her. It made her want to growl and fight and throw something glass against a wall to hear it shatter. She knew she was out of line, but the least he could do was listen.
And ready? She'd been fully healed for a day and a half, but he didn't even come to see her once in the healing halls. Master Plo had. Obi-Wan had. But not her own master. The doctors made her do tests and bacta treatments and they did extra scans on her old injuries from Geonosis, which Ahsoka hated, and the whole time, Anakin never showed.
She bore holes into his tunic with her eyes. He was petty and hypocritical. All that talk about checking in on the medical station but the second they had any bad blood between them he split and gave her the cold shoulder for three days. Did he even know how long she was there? Did he even care if she was alive or dead or was it just 'mystery solved' when he saw her in the turbolift? Ahsoka's heart pounded in her chest. She fought to retain her self-control. Losing her temper would only make things worse.
She took a deep breath.
There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no chaos, there is harmony.
She recited the words in her head, desperate for the peace and knowledge and serenity and harmony the Jedi mantra described. They only made her feel worse since right now she was all emotional and ignorant and passionate and chaotic. She shook away the frustration and reached into the Force.
Being in the Force was like being bathed in sunlight. Comfortable, warm, bright. It felt like a smooth breeze in summer and a rainstorm in the spring. It felt like being so high in the atmosphere, you could swirl your hand through a greying cloud, and while you can't stop the storm, you can pull back your hand and see the raindrops dotting your palm and know that at least these didn't fall.
Ahsoka took one breath, then another. She let her emotions shrink into the water droplets strung along the veins of her hand, and the clean breeze brush past her neck and sweep away her chaos and her passion. She stretched her face toward the warm sunlight, painting her skin a deeper orange. She let it all sink in, until the gloomy place she'd sequestered herself in was flooded with natural light. Then, she opened her eyes.
Her master stood before her, watching her quietly. She peered at him. His features were soft and his eyes thoughtful, completely different from the expression he sported a minute ago. He nodded his head, just a dip of the chin, as if he saw her quick meditation and wanted to honor it. Ahsoka chewed on her bottom lip.
Well, if I can't trust you, maybe I should send you back. She squeezed her eyes shut against their old argument. The words still felt like knives in her heart.
She didn't react when she felt a poke against their Force bond shield. Not a flick, like he'd done when he was annoyed with her. More like a soft touch.
"I've got to go." He said softly, walking toward the door. He climbed the steps separating the Communication Center's tiered seating, speaking over his shoulder. "Stay here. Keep out of trouble."
The door slid to the side when he reached it, but Anakin hesitated and turned back to her. The warm yellow glow from the hallway spilled over his hair and garments, back lighting his figure with a halo. Yet, from his shadowed face and body language, Ahsoka thought he seemed… disappointed. In her behavior, or reactions, or just her as a person, Ahsoka didn't know, but it had to be one of them.
He studied her from the distance they stood apart. "I'll see you in a couple days or so." He said, but he remained anchored in place.
She nodded. She didn't feel like talking anymore. He hadn't wanted to hear it in the first place.
Anakin opened his mouth, then closed it again. He pursed his lips. Ahsoka crossed her arms over her chest again, touching her armbands. Maybe the real point of this gift was to keep her out of battle— the symbolic protection and all. Ahsoka pursed her lips, scrutinizing the floor. She didn't know what Anakin was lingering for, but it was making an awkward silence grow between them. Shockingly, the tension made her miss their Force bond. If it was open, she'd at least have an idea what—
"I-I'm sorry, Snips." His voice murmured.
Ahsoka froze. She waited for him to say something more, or to take it back, staring at her maroon-colored boots. But then she heard the ssst of the door closing and the light from the hall withdrawing behind it, and Ahsoka lifted her head to catch his shadow slipping out the hatch.
Without the light from the hall, the Communication Center seemed more shadowed. Holographic blues crisscrossed her skin. Fluorescent yellows touched her garments. Ahsoka was alone in an empty room meant to host a hundred, staring at the door Anakin left through, wondering why it was so hard to talk to each other, and slowly realizing that this dull ache flooding over her body like she'd bruised another rib meant she missed him.
And she'd never even asked about Bariss.
...
Somehow, I managed to make this chapter 4000 words long. I hope you appreciate my effort.
The armband symbolism actually comes from Muay Tai fighters and their tradition. They are called Pra Jiad. Since Star Wars already pulls a lot from real life cultures, I thought it would be fun to bring in a little extra symbolism from the martial arts side. I do a lot of research for Off of Geonosis, and Pra Jiad happened to be this week's deep dive.
Thank you for reading! I'm very happy to get this chapter out this week. Stay tuned for more!