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The surface level of Coruscant was always alive with noise, and today was no different. Speeders roared overhead in endless streams while crowds pressed through the streets below. Ahsoka kept moving, her eyes fixed on the structure that dominated the skyline. Its towering spires, once a source of pride, loomed larger with every step she took.
It had only been a few days since everything changed. A few days since she was framed. A few days since she was hunted through the undercity like prey. A few days since she was nearly executed by the very people she fought for.
A few days since she walked away from the only place she once called home.
Everything from her past had been sealed the moment she closed a fist. She didn’t regret her decision, but living without the Jedi was far harder than she had imagined. Hunger could no longer be ignored when living in the lower levels, and each time she stole, a sharp pang of shame twisted through her.
When she had wandered aimlessly in search of a job, she realized too late that she hadn't told the men of her resignation. The least she owed them was an apology for no longer being able to watch their backs.
She had cried herself to sleep that night, curled up in a tight ball in a cold, damp alley.
They had taken her under their wings the moment she joined the war, teaching her everything they knew. And yet, despite the fact that they were only following orders, a small part of her couldn't forget that they were the ones who had chased her and forced her to put those skills to use.
She abruptly stopped in her tracks. Maybe coming here was a mistake. She wasn't ready to face them.
Before she could turn around, a passerby roughly shoved past her, ripping her out of her thoughts. He shot her a scowl, and instead of rolling her eyes like she usually would, she murmured a quick apology for blocking the road.
Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself and pushed forward. She'd come this far, and she had nothing left to lose.
When familiar pillars came into view, she spotted the Guards' distinct masks. A faint smile tugged at her lips as an old memory stirred.
Her pudgy fingers dug into the grooves of the statue's platform as she hoisted herself up, tongue sticking out and eyes narrowed in concentration. When she finally reached the top, she crowed in triumph, standing victoriously on the broad base.
She clapped a hand over her mouth when her whoop echoed across the space, but she couldn't help the giggle that slipped out as she remembered how her Crèche Master had to drag her down the last time she tried this.
Her montrals caught the sound of fast footsteps approaching and she scurried to the other side to drop into a crouch. Pressing herself against the cold marble, she shielded her presence the way Master Plo had taught her.
"Ahsoka?” a breathless voice called out. She immediately recognized Torin from his nasal undertone and the way he was already panting hard. He'd never been any good at running. "Are you here? I'm going to find you this time!"
She peeked around the edge of the statue, sighing in relief when she saw the rodian’s back moving away from her hiding spot. For several minutes, he shuffled through the open space as he searched, grumbling under his breath.
Then, he froze mid-step and pivoted, as if an idea had just struck him. She ducked down with a grin. If he thought she was hiding somewhere else, there was no way he'd catch her now.
"Hi...have you seen an orange and blue togruta around here? She’s as tall as a jawa and she’s six years old.”
Her brows furrowed as she crept over the statue’s corner, trying to get a safer view of who Torin was talking to. Her eyes widened in shock when she saw who it was.
Oh frip. Oh frippy frap. He was talking to the Temple Guard, and everyone knew they never talk to younglings. And that was cheating! She was definitely going to bite his ankles for that.
Torin’s question was met with silence, and she watched the rodian turn back toward the Temple as he realized he wasn't going to get an answer.
"No, I haven't," a smooth, formal voice said unexpectedly, carrying an accent she had never heard before.
Her jaw dropped. The Guard was actually speaking to him. Not only that, but she was certain they had watched every wobble she made when clambering up to her perch, which meant they were lying for her. She didn't even know they could do that.
Torin spun around, his mouth agape in surprise. "Oh, I—er, thank you," he stammered before retreating back into the Temple.
When she could no longer sense him nearby, she pushed herself to her feet, shaking her legs. The position had left her thighs burning, but it was so worth it.
She jumped down from the statue and circled around to stand right beside the Guard. They didn't acknowledge her presence, but she didn't let it faze her.
"Thank you very very very much!" she chirped, dipping into a deep bow and sprinting back inside.
If she paid closer attention, she would’ve caught their fleeting trace of amusement in the Force before it was washed away in a sea of impassiveness.
As she made her way toward the entrance, two Temple Guards held their posts. When she came close enough to step onto Jedi grounds, she braced for their golden sabers to ignite and deny her entry.
But nothing happened.
Crossing the threshold, she paused and shot them a glance.
They hadn't even moved a single inch.
A strange hollowness settled in her chest as she turned to look at the stairs she had descended only days ago. She wasn't sure what to feel at the Guards' lack of reactions, but one thing was clear: she was nowhere near ready to come back to the Order. Averting her gaze, she veered right, steering away from the Temple and into clone territory.
Arriving at the security checkpoint, she spotted only a single trooper on duty. She had been here so often that by now, the routine was second nature.
Without waiting to be asked, she pulled her silver identification card from her pocket and handed it over. He accepted it wordlessly and swiped it through his datapad.
As she waited for clearance, her gaze lingered on the gunships lined up far ahead until a pinprick of uncertainty brushed against her through the Force. Snapping her eyes to the clone, she found his visor locked on her, his bucket tilted just enough to suggest he was studying her face.
"Are you Commander Tano? From the 501st?”
There was a hint of disbelief in his voice and she confirmed with a proud nod. A ding echoed from the datapad, sending a rush of giddiness through her and easing some of the emptiness that had weighed on her since the recent ordeal.
The fact that she was still registered in the system was good news. That meant she could reunite with her brothers, explain everything, make things right —
“Sir…you’re not authorized to be here.”
Her resolve wavered. "Is there any way I could come in as a guest?" she pressed, desperation bleeding into her voice. She clung to her diminishing hope, longing for even the briefest glimpse of the 501st. Though, she'd settle for any familiar face if she had to. She just needed to see a vod.
“Apologies, sir, but GAR Headquarters has marked this card invalid."
The trooper flipped his datapad toward her, and the thought of asking to share her new comm frequency died in her throat as she read the statement.
Galactic Republic – Grand Army of the Republic
Official Restriction Notice
This document certifies that Ahsoka Tano, formerly Commander of the 501st Legion, is not authorized to enter any Republic military facility, base, or installation. She is prohibited from interacting with any personnel or engaging in any official Republic operations.This restriction is effective immediately and remains in force until explicitly revoked by Republic High Command.
Her heart sank at the realization that she might never be able to see her brothers again. Even though the GAR typically moved at an infuriatingly slow pace, someone had clearly made sure this went through quickly just to spite her one last time.
It shouldn't have hurt—she had reminded herself over and over that this was bound to happen. There shouldn’t be a crushing weight stealing all the air from her lungs. There shouldn’t be a storm raging inside of her, threatening to tear her apart from within.
But there was. The rejection from her home hurt.
Her vision blurred as the frustration and despair of the past week bubbled to the surface, but she forced it down with clenched fists.
Maybe it was better this way, considering that she didn’t belong here anymore. The men had so little time to rest, and the war was already hard for everyone. Her presence would only steal the small moments of peace they had left.
“I watched your trial, sir. I’m sorry I can’t let you in, but for what it’s worth…I'm glad they found the real culprit," the trooper said softly, plastoid creaking as he shifted his feet uncomfortably.
Even though she could sense the guilt gnawing at the man through the Force, she couldn't bring herself to tell him it was alright. She couldn't think about anything at all without the risk of breaking down and losing what little dignity she had left.
“Thank you,” she managed to whisper, giving a curt nod and turning sharply on her heel, walking away as fast as she could.
Her eyes watered again, and she swiped them before a treacherous tear could fall. Striding through the pillars, she forced herself to put one foot in front of the other, refusing to bask in the comfort of the Temple's light.
Once she reached the streets, she let the tears fall freely, slipping into undercity without a single backward glance.
Deep down, she knew she wouldn't be back for a very long time.