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The warehouse is obviously abandoned, covered in webs and dust and is probably about as old as the Jedi Temple itself, if not older. The entire building seems to creak as Ahsoka approaches it, making her twitch uneasily.

Ventress shoots her a bewildered look. “Are you sure that friend of yours gave you the right address?”

Ahsoka fights back a snarky retort, only snapping back a curt, “I’m sure.” Even though she knew it wasn’t meant that way, Ventress's insinuating that Barriss had done something wrong made her chest puff out in defence. While the fact that she couldn’t sense her inside the factory admittedly made her nervous, it was likely she was just concealing her signature the same way Ahsoka is hiding her own from everyone else to prevent detection by Anakin and Master Plo, who were actively hunting her down.

Ventress rolls her eyes, and Ahsoka frowns in response. She finds no joy working with the bounty hunter. They’d been at odds for years now, and she could still remember seeing Wolffe for the first time after the woman cut out his eye during the Battle of Khorm. She’d killed so many Jedi, so many clones…and was currently her only ally. 

This is rounding up to be the worst week of Ahsoka’s life— which is saying a lot.

“Final offer on taking you off-planet,” Ventress says, but Ahsoka bats her hand dismissively at the older woman.

“I have to find the bomber– if not to prove myself innocent, then justice for those they killed,” Ahsoka denies, walking slightly inside.

Ventress scowls at her, but there is no anger behind it. “Of course it’s not for you. Always so selfless. You’re all practically suicidal– that Jedi Code of yours is like an itch.”

Ahsoka smiles weakly at Ventress before the older woman frowns and places a hand on her hips. “I’ve done my part of the deal,” she says. “I expect both sides to be upheld.” Ahsoka tugs her hood further down her head. 

“I’ll do what I can,” she agrees, and while Ventress seems upset by the uncertainty in her voice, she merely purses her lips together and nods.

“See you around, Tano. Try not to get killed.” Ahsoka nods back at her, and Ventress turns around and leaves her near the door to the old warehouse, alone and in complete silence.

Ahsoka had grown wary of silence. Coruscant is called The Planet That Never Sleeps for a reason, meaning she had grown up using the hustle and bustle of the Coruscanti nightlife as white noise to help her fall asleep, and the silence of space when she's on a Venator is negated by the snores of the clones in their shared barracks or the radio Anakin gave her for the rare times she actually slept in the Commander’s quarters. Sleep came easy near a battlefield. The shouts of orders, the blaster fire, the sound of breaking metal became her lullaby very soon into the war.

The entire warehouse is silent. With the few exceptions of creaking and a few scuttling animals about, the noise of the rest of 1315 is nonexistent this deep into the Warehouse District on this level, all nearby buildings just as old and abandoned as the one she is in now.

Where is Barriss? She thinks to herself. She said she would be here.

She spots a large crate of nanodroids in the corner of her eye, and she rushes over, dropping down as she pries the casing open to see a large lump of metal she knows is hundreds of thousands of the micro droids. She can’t fight back her grin. This must be where Letta had gotten the droids she fed to her husband. Whoever was the supplier was likely the other bomber!  Barriss was right about the warehouse being a lead. Her woman is so intelligent.

She backs up from the droids and turns around the corner, only to almost cry in relief. There, like she was told, is Barriss, waiting for her. 

Forgetting she is a wanted criminal, she breaks into a sprint for her partner, the hood flinging off her head and her cloak flowing behind her as she races toward her, Barriss’ arms opening as Ahsoka jumps into her embrace. Barriss’ hands come up to grasp her montrals and waist while Ahsoka clings to her neck like a Kowakian monkey-lizard, and she hears gentle shushing from the older girl.

They hesitantly part, and Ahsoka’s hand moves from her neck to the sides of her face, brushing her thumbs against yellow-green skin. “I missed you,” she mumbles, and Barriss pulls away, worry etched into her eyes. Ahsoka frowns. The war is putting so much stress on her already, and she can’t imagine she had a very peaceful week for the past days Ahsoka has been on the run underground.

“It's all right, you're safe now. I was so worried about you,” Barriss says, and Ahsoka pushes her head back into her chest, feeling her heartbeat against her montral. The familiar thump is a comfort she seeks from everyone she loves. 

“The warehouse…it had nanodroids in them. Were they the ones used in the bombing?” Ahsoka asks, and Barriss nods. “How did you find this place?”

“Are you injured?” Barriss asks, and Ahsoka shakes her head. She’s a little sore from running away from the detention centre and has a few bumps and bruises, mostly from Ventress initially attacking her, but she has had far worse. Barriss’ other hand sinks to her waist, and she is pulled into her, their lips crashing together. Ahsoka leans into the kiss, cherishing the touch. It has been so long since she had last seen her. She missed her so much.

Ahsoka pulls them apart, and Barriss goes to tug her in for another kiss, but Ahsoka puts a finger against her lips, a small giggle escaping her. The action is so domestic and childish that Ahsoka could almost forget she is on the run from the Galactic Republic. She feels half a girl again. “We’ll have time for that later,” Ahsoka tells her. “Right now, we have to figure out who was the one to buy the droids.” She swivels her head around to look back into the warehouse. “Maybe there is a manifest lying around in there some–”

Ahsoka feels a hand grip her face, and she is turned back around to look at Barriss, who looks at her with a serenity she hadn’t seen in the older girl since Umbara. Ahsoka hesitantly puts her hand in Barriss’ hair. She enjoys having her hair played with, the same way the younger clones did. She had gotten so used to the feeling of curls under her fingertips that sometimes she forgets she has no hair herself.

Barriss’ eyes flutter and she looks away, breaking their gaze as Ahsoka stares at her inquisitively, gently twirling her curls in her fingers. And then she says, “I don’t want to hear anymore about the Bombing.”

Ahsoka pauses, but looks back up at Barriss in confusion. “What?” She questions. “How else do you expect me to prove my innocence? I don’t understand. I thought you said–”

“You’re not going to be able to prove your innocence, Ahsoka,” Barriss says coolly. Ahsoka stares at her in shock. “The Jedi, the Grand Army…they’re hunting you. They want you dead.” She knows that. She is acutely aware she was being hunted like a wild animal by the people that had raised her for the last two and a half years. It almost feels like she was rubbing it in her face. Ahsoka begins to back away from her, but Barriss shoots out like a blaster and snags both her wrists, pulling her close once more.

“What is the point of staying here when you’re never going to be able to prove your innocence? We can go anywhere— everywhere. We can settle down or travel for the rest of our lives if we want to.” The serene look is gone, replaced with something Ahsoka could only call mania. It’s a look she’s only seen a few genuine times, and only on people she considered her enemies. To see it on her lover is throwing her for a very large loop. “Come away with me. Leave everything else behind while we still can.”

“We can’t do that, Barriss,” she reminds her. “I can’t. We have a duty to the people of the Republic to protect them from the Separatists. A duty to our men to continue the fight with them, to protect them when others can’t…or won’t.” She is reminded of Rex’s gaunt face after she landed from the aerial assault of Umbara, so many of her men gone for no reason and the ones left behind traumatised by what they had seen. So many people viewed the men as no more than cannon fodder, even people they should've been able to trust. 

She recalls the time Rex had told her that he couldn’t wait until she was knighted and made a General of her own battalion or legion. He had said he was proud to serve under Commander Tano and would feel peace for the men who would serve under General Tano, knowing they would be safe with her. She remembers how excited she had been when he had said that— and nervous. She has a responsibility, whether she wants to have it or not.

“I have a duty to find the real bomber, so the victims have justice for what happened to them.” She has to find the bomber– if not to prove herself innocent, then for justice for those they killed. So many dead. Jedi, Clones, simple civilians trying to live as peaceful a life as they can during the bloodiest war the galaxy had ever seen. She thinks of Jackar Bowmani, who was just trying to do his job when he was made into a walking bomb by his own wife. The crime is despicable. Those affected need justice.

“You shouldn’t have that duty to begin with, Ahsoka. Our duty should be peacekeeping, not— warmongering.”  She practically spits the word. Barriss thinks what they were doing was warmongering? How much has her opinion changed since she was last at the Temple? She knew that Barriss had begun to disagree with their position in the war after what happened to her in Zygerria, but never did she think that Barriss would claim the Jedi to be warmongers.

“This is peacekeeping. We’re protecting the peace of the people by saving them from the Separatists!" Was it that hard to understand? “I don't believe what I'm hearing. You would be willing to forsake all of our duties, willing to let the bomber of the Jedi Order get away with their crime?”

“I’m not going to be caught.” Ahsoka blinked and stared at Barriss, who stared back at her with impassive eyes before they slightly widened, no doubt realising her slip of words. 

 Her legs buckled as the world fell out from underneath her feet, and Barriss went to catch her by the waist, but Ahsoka pushed her away, keeping herself upright somehow as she stumbled back away from her.

“No, you…” Her tongue felt like lead in her mouth, weighing her down.

An expression that was finally different from her usual passiveness was made on Barriss’ face, twisting and turning into some ugly mixture of desperation and fury. “You must understand, Ahsoka, I didn’t mean for things to get this out of hand.”

“You bombed the Temple, you framed me, you…” Ahsoka can feel her eyes growing wet with tears as her mouth gapes in horror. “You killed the clones in the detention centre.” She can practically see their bodies in front of her, imagine the scent of cooking flesh burning her nostrils. 

They hadn’t done anything, and Barriss had killed them for no reason other than to further make Ahsoka seem guilty. The girl in front of her was so different from the one who had slept next to her only a week ago. Or was that girl merely putting up a front? How long had she been lying to her? Been holding her, kissing her, touching her, knowing that she was going to kill so many people and frame Ahsoka for it?

“I can’t lose you the same way you lost your clanmates, my clanmates.” Ahsoka is the lone survivor of her generation of the Clawmouse Clan, and Barriss is the lone survivor of her generation of the Squall Clan. Her last clanmate had died months ago in the Sacking of Lutrilla. 

“I know you would have never left the war on your own, but I can’t bear to lose you. Everything I've done, I’ve done it for you. To protect you.” She is right. Ahsoka never would’ve left the war effort on her own terms, because she has a duty: to her men, to the Republic, to the people. She has to protect the innocent from the machinations of the Sith and the Dark Side. It’s her job as a Jedi– and the Clone War is the machination of the Sith.

“So you’ve tried to force my hand by– by attacking the Temple? Killing innocents?”

Barriss went deathly calm. “There are no innocents in the Temple, Ahsoka.”

She couldn’t believe this was happening. All she could feel was her entire world falling apart around her for the second time this week. Why had this happened to her? Why had Barriss done this? Why had this happened at all? She wanted things to go back to normal. “Barriss, all I want is your love. You’re a good person– don't do this, please.”

“My love alone can’t keep you safe, not when we’re on opposite ends of the Galaxy so often. The only way I can protect you is to be with you, and this is the only way how!” Ahsoka can’t help but think that surely Barriss had thought of other options prior to settling on bombing the Temple, but clearly, she and Letta Turmond must’ve been acquaintances at the least, and for all Ahsoka knows, they could’ve been in an echo chamber of sorts.

Ahsoka backed away further. “I don't know you anymore,” she choked out. “You’re going down a path I can't follow.”

Barriss looked off somewhere to the side. “Because of Ventress?” 

Ventress? Ahsoka fears how the older girl even knows of their temporary alliance. Either way, she is wrong. Ahsoka would never bring Ventress near Barriss, not when she is so good and kind, but she's not that good and kind, is she? Ahsoka looks up at Barriss’ furious, terrified eyes and sees a rim of gold around her iris. How could she have not seen it? Was she truly that blind? 

“Because of what you’ve done,” Ahsoka says, her voice thick, but Barriss doesn’t look happy at her answer. Instead, her hand sinks under her coat and she pulls out her lightsaber, igniting it.

Never in her life has Ahsoka felt fear staring at the glow of a Jedi’s lightsaber, but seeing it illuminate the otherwise dark warehouse makes Ahsoka shake and shiver like a youngling hearing a scary bedtime story. She feels like a child staring at the ominous blue glow.

“Barriss, please,” Ahsoka begs, but it’s almost like she doesn’t hear her. How have things escalated so fast? She raises the lightsaber and dashes for her, swinging down.

Ahsoka yelps and barely dodges out of the way, fighting her instinct to grab her own saber. She knows she would stand no chance: she's down to her primary saber with her shoto lost somewhere in the depths of the undercity, her right arm is sore from where she landed on it when Ventress ambushed her, and she hasn’t slept for more than an hour for the last week. She can feel her exhaustion in her bones. A usually well-matched fight feels almost akin to bullying now.

Ahsoka dodges again, only to shriek when Barriss slashes through some barrels of gas, spraying the sweet-smelling air all over her face. It burns her eyes, but they droop almost immediately and she stumbles against the gutted tanks as Barriss advances on her, somewhat affected by the gas too, she thinks.

When Barriss lunges for her again, Ahsoka is too slow to react. It burns right across her collarbone, and Ahsoka looks down at the brown mark marring her already dirty battle dress. It’s probably only thanks to the material Padmé’s handmaiden used when she made it that Ahsoka is still standing. She can see a thin fibre peeking through, but it was red with heat and probably what's causing the burning sensation she can feel. Not that it hurts all that much. She feels a bit woozy.

Hesitantly, she pulls her lightsaber off her belt and ignites the blade, allowing the green to wash over her in its comforting waves. As much as Anakin and the 501st gave her flak for not having the matching blue, the green feels like it’s hers and hers alone. A symbol of her power over herself.

She feels confident, but her courage dwindles when she reaches for the shoto and only grabs empty air. She can do this— she just needs to either escape or survive. She has no other option. But it's so different. This isn’t Ventress or Grievous, or even the elusive Count Dooku: this was Barriss. Her Barriss.

Barriss slashes at her side, and Ahsoka is too slow to block, the blue lightsaber making a deep score just under her breast. Ahsoka makes a high-pitched noise in pain and gulps for air as she tries to regain her balance. “You're with Ventress; you planned this– set me up!” Barriss shouts, deactivating her lightsaber. “You brought her here to kill me!” 

“No! Barriss–” 

Her hand rises from her side and makes a fist, and Ahsoka’s throat constricts before the air is stolen from her lungs. Her lightsaber falls from her grip as her own hands rise and claw at her neck, but she cannot pull at the invisible force that makes her vision begin to blur. 

She cries out to Barriss— at least she thinks she does, but her head has gone from feeling like lead to light like a cloud, and her hearing has gone fuzzy, making her feel less and less like a sentient being as the last of her breath escapes her. She tries to say something again, but no noise comes out.

She can hear shouting. Two women, she thinks, their voices a contrast of silk and sandpaper, but the silk feels angrier while fear laces through the sandpaper like thread being pulled from a poorly done stitch. She can’t make out the words well, only one, said by the sandpaper. Go. Another word. Let. What were they trying to say? Go let…let go?

The sandpaper wants her to let go? She would like to let go. Letting go sounds easy. Peaceful. Maybe if she lets go, her chest will stop hurting, and the clouds will part in the sky.

Ahsoka lets go, and she feels air rush back into her lungs a mere moment before she tilts to the side and falls to the warehouse floor.

An explosion rocks level 1315 and sends many frightened civilians screaming and running in the opposite direction, but Rex knows that is where he is supposed to be. The warehouse district on this level is mostly abandoned, only used by gangs and attackers nowadays, but clearly it’s being used for something if the explosion is big enough to make the floor beneath his feet shake even though it was so many blocks away.

“With me!” Fox shouts, and he and Wolffe sprint in the direction of the warehouse, but he pauses when he notices that the Jedi aren’t following them. 

“Sir?” He questions, but Anakin turns to him and shakes his head, his face serious.

“I can sense Ahsoka and Ventress,” he says, Plo nodding solemnly. “We’ll make our own way there, Rex. Don’t wait up for us.”

Nerves quickly rise up his spine but he forces himself to calm. These two Jedi care more for Ahsoka than anyone else he knows— she will be safe if she is caught by them. He gives a nod of his head before racing off after his brothers who already have a lead on him by a few feet, but his armour is lighter than their Phase II, so he is quick to catch up.

By the time they make it to the warehouse, the whole building is engulfed in flames, and Rex can hear the distinct sound of lightsabers clashing somewhere off in the distance. The General had said he sensed both Ahsoka and Ventress, and a part of him wants to rush off in the direction of the fight, fearing for Ahsoka, but he forces himself to stay put. He would stand no chance against Ventress. 

All the ways inside the warehouse that he can see are fully blocked off by fallen rubble; the metal entrance collapsed in on itself and is bright red from the heat. Fox tilts his helmet, letting Rex know he is absolutely frowning underneath his helmet, but he shrugs a shoulder and gestures towards both sides. “Stone,” he turns to the other CG Commander, “You take the squad around left– Rex, Wolffe and I will go right.”

Stone nods and races off in the direction, the rest of the CG troops following behind him, while Rex wastes no time running around the corner, getting closer to the lightsaber battle. As far as he can tell, Anakin and General Plo aren’t here yet, for some reason.

When they get to the edge of the warehouse, the other entrance seems to be the most destroyed, entirely shrouded in dust, smoke, and pieces of metal, and Rex would bet his drinking money that this is where the explosion originated. He glances at the edge of the platform and sees the red canisters of acetylene gas with lightsaber burns through the middle. He nudges Fox, who looks over at the destroyed canisters and sighs.

There is nothing he can see, and while the lightsaber clashes are certainly louder, he can’t see the fight, nor can he hear Ahsoka. She is still alive, but for all he knows she’s missing multiple limbs and mere seconds from dying. Anxiety gnaws at his chest like a wild animal.

“There’s no way in,” Wolffe says, and Fox nods in agreement, the two turning to make their way further down the warehouse for another way in…but then Rex sees it.

A bird.

A...convor of sorts, which he’s never seen this far down in the lower levels of Coruscant. It’s a bright white with green feathers, and unnatural green eyes the same shade. It looks familiar, for reasons unknown to him. Somehow, he’s seen this bird before.

It spots him too, it seems, judging by the way it is hooting and hopping up and down on the piece of mangled metal, seemingly immune to the hot surface still slightly red from the explosion.

He remembers Ahsoka playing with a convor similar in appearance, telling Rex it was a friend of hers. But that was on an entirely different planet in the Outer Rim, and Rex is pretty sure said bird had never followed them back onto the Integrity. 

But the bird is so familiar. 

It hoots one more time before leaping into the air, swirling around the metal it had been standing on before flying up into the open air of the underworld toward the surface. It has a fluffy green tail. He can remember that tail curled around Ahsoka’s arm while she held the bird to her chest. 

…It’s the same bird.

He races forward, uncaring of Fox and Wolffe snapping at him to remain next to them — always so overprotective — and stares at the lump of metal where the convor had been sitting. Morai, Ahsoka had called her back then. He brushes a finger against it and flinches back in pain when it still feels like molten lava, but he looks down and notices another sheet of metal underneath it. He grabs the sheet—and it feels as cool as ice. He grips it hard and lifts.

It is so heavy. So impossibly heavy it feels like he is lifting up a LAAT, and for all he knows, he may as well be. The weight is relieved somewhat when he feels some of his brothers come to his aid, lifting up the piece further, but a loud shout breaks his focus, and he glances down, his gaze locking on a small orange hand lying limply underneath.

He has no control over his body when he falls to his knees, grabs Ahsoka’s hand, and pulls her close to him with all his might. She gets halfway out from underneath the metal before she gets a snag on something, and he looks down to see that it is her foot, mangled and bloodied. It has caught on a piece of metal that is also ridiculously hot, if the increasing scent of burnt flesh is a sign.

He knows she’ll die if she stays under the rubble. He whispers an apology before tugging her once again, her foot coming free at the cost of the metal slicing all the way through it, clean through meat and bone. Ahsoka doesn’t even flinch as he hauls her into his arms, unconscious. He’s never seen her look so injured.

 His commander has gotten into many different…situations throughout the war. She’s been kidnapped more times than he can count, has been tortured by the enemy so much she called it an ‘extracurricular’ of hers, and has been shot enough times to not only earn a spot on Kix’s board, but land in the top five. Never in his life did he think he would feel more anxiety for her than watching her walk down the ramp of a shuttle, frostbitten with rings of bruises around each limb after what was supposed to be a peaceful mission for her after the hell that was Zygerria.

He knows true fear now.

Ahsoka’s foot is the worst of her injuries, but he can see lightsaber burns: three slashes where her battle dress had melted and fused with her damaged skin, the skin still bubbling and popping in a way that looked like lava. There are burns on her legs and arms, bad ones that would likely scar. There is an angry ring of red around her throat, shaped like hands, and there is a light purple off-colouring going down her throat where her trachea should be. Her eyes are closed. For a moment, he fears her dead.

There is a large crash and he feels a hand in his pauldron, looking up to see Wolffe by his shoulder, his bucket held under the crook of his arm, which allows Rex to see his brother’s worry etched into the lines of his face. He suddenly remembers that Wolffe knew Ahsoka before he did.

“Is she alive?” Fox questions to Wolffe’s right, and Rex stares at him for a second before bringing his gloved hand down to her pulse, pleadingly waiting for a thump that would assure him she is still here. It takes far longer than he would like, but he feels her heartbeat, faint, but there.

He nods, and Fox suddenly disappears, calling for a medic. Rex raises a shaking arm near his face as he switches on his commlink, the green light reflecting against Ahsoka’s ashen face. “Rex?” The general’s voice crackles through, and Rex swallows harshly before opening his mouth.

“We found her, sir,” he says, and the line goes dead seconds after, leaving him, Wolffe, and Ahsoka in the darkness, only illuminated by the distant fire in the warehouse.

“Someone did this to her,” Wolffe says, shockingly calm. Rex traces the lightsaber slash with a finger, noticing her skin twitch at the contact. He had seen lightsaber burns before, although none this bad. When his General — still a Commander at the time — had returned from Yavin with a burn near his eye he got from Ventress, Rex had been horrified that a saber had come close to killing him, and for the rest of the war both his CO had shown up a few times sporting flesh wounds from the various duels they got into, but those had been fixable with a bacta patch for the most part. 

These deep gauges will need a bacta tank at the least.

“The true bomber,” Rex assumes aloud, because not for a second has he even considered the possibility that Ahsoka had been the one to bomb the Jedi Temple Hangar. It was true that Jedi could join the Separatists — Fall, is the term Anakin had used — and while he knows that everybody has their limit before snapping, he knows Ahsoka, never in her worst nightmares, would dream of harming a clone. He has seen her time and time again stick her neck out for her men, even against the Jedi and other powerful members of the Republic, and the idea that she would so shamelessly kill his brothers in the detention centre…

He likes to think that Ahsoka would’ve come to him before she even got close to thinking she had to bomb the Temple.

Wolffe, who was split between him and Fox earlier, nods in agreement, and he turns to the other clones surrounding them, ordering them to scout the area for any intruders or Force sensitives. Ahsoka had gotten into a fight, and not only had she lost, she had lost badly. General Kenobi had once told Cody (who had told him) that Ahsoka was growing to be one of the most powerful Jedi of her generation, and would give even a Jedi Master a run for their money. Whoever attacked her would have to be strong. He throws in an order not to engage if they spot them, to instead contact General Plo. He doesn’t say Anakin. 

He usually pitied the poor soul that was on the other end of the General’s lightsaber after something had hurt Ahsoka, but he wouldn’t begrudge him for slaughtering Ahsoka’s attacker where they stood, looking at her injuries. For Force’s sake, the demagolka had strangled her. Unfortunately, they still need the bomber alive so they can prove Ahsoka had no part in the attack.

He uselessly goes to grab a spare bacta patch Kix always made him carry to put on her neck, unable to look at the red rings around her throat any longer, but a hand stops him, and he looks up at Wolffe in fury. “We need photos of her injuries, vod’ika,” his older brother says gruffly. “I don’t like seeing her like this either, but we need proof she was attacked.” 

Rex feels the childish urge to throw a fit. Is what she already has not enough? It’s obvious the damage to her throat is mostly internal, and the saber burns are enough evidence she had been assaulted by someone else, but he merely grunts and allows one of Fox’s men to take photos of her limp body. Once he backs away, Rex can’t get the bacta patch on her neck fast enough.

The sound of thudding feet alerts Rex to his General’s presence, loosening his hold on Ahsoka just in time for her to be snagged by the Force, pulled into Anakin’s arms as he skids to his knees next to him. His expression is murderous as he looks at Ahsoka’s mangled body. It’s a big contrast to the way he gently caresses her cheek, Ahsoka finally twitching to lean into the contact. 

How a touch that can’t be any heavier than a feather manages to get a reaction out of her when her foot tearing in half doesn’t, he has no clue. He assumes it’s Force osik. Ahsoka had once told him that Force-sensitives can create something called a bond, which was a connection that allowed them to create a bridge between their minds. He knows Ahsoka and Anakin have one stronger than most. Perhaps that is how she is reacting to him. 

“Who did this?” Anakin asks, his voice thundering. It makes the hairs on the back of Rex’s neck rise, even though he logically knows that his General’s fury is not directed at him. General Plo, having a quiet conversation with Wolffe behind them, spares a concerned glance in their direction. He was Ahsoka’s jetii finder, if he remembers right. He probably knew Ahsoka when she was just an ik’aad.

“We don’t know, sir,” Rex answers. “We assume it was the true bomber.” 

Anakin’s eyes darken, and he stares at Rex through the visor of his buy'ce for a few long seconds before he puts Ahsoka back in his arms with the gentleness of a mother, running a hand over her montrals and brushing a finger against the wing marking on her cheek before rising to his feet. 

“Take her to the Temple– have her treated there by Kix and Master Eerin.” Rex internally thanked him– to know he was still someone Anakin trusted to take care of Ahsoka even after everything that had happened.

“I will find them,” Anakin assures him, his voice many decibels deeper, so low Rex is likely the only one who can hear him. “This hrugaag will not get away.” He closes his eyes for a moment in the same way Ahsoka would when trying to find missing men, reaching a hand out in Ahsoka’s direction before his eyes snap open, icy and cold in his fury. He turns on his heel and begins to sprint away, General Plo calling out to him before following.

He holds Ahsoka close to his chest and gets to his feet, tucking her face into his chest as he begins to approach Wolffe and Fox, who are looking in the direction where the two Jedi had just sprinted off. “I am under direct orders from General Skywalker to take Commander Tano to the Jedi Temple for treatment for her wounds.” 

Fox slowly turns to look at him, and while he is still wearing his helmet, Rex can see the pinched look in his brow. “Rex,” he began, “Commander Tano is still a suspect for the Bombing of the Temple, which is under the jurisdiction of Admiral Tarkin.” 

Tarkin. The bastard whose life Ahsoka had saved on Lola Sayu, although it seems that he’s forgotten that event. Ahsoka openly dislikes the man, and Anakin certainly didn’t like him much either, even though they seemed to agree on a multitude of things. He can’t see his general agreeing like that now.

Even Fox, who usually seems to hold as much respect for his superiors (aside from the Chancellor, who he often disparages in the CC-batch group chat), can’t keep his disdain for the man out of his tone. Tarkin was certainly a character as a mere bridge captain. He can’t imagine what he is like now as an admiral.

“It’s clear that Commander Tano was attacked by someone who wields lightsabers with great skill– something that requires an attunement to the Force, making this a Jedi problem.” Fox sighs, shoulders slumping. Rex continues. “Tarkin can bring his issues to the Council– I’m taking her with me.” 

Fox nods in agreement, and Rex readjusts his grip before walking towards the transport, shaking his head at the offered medbed by one of Fox’s men. A shiny, judging by the armour. He is to make sure his Commander stays safe– that was the job assigned to him the day she became his CO, and he will make up for where he has recently failed. He contacts Kix, asking him to rendezvous at the Temple. He has a job to do.

Ventress wasn’t exactly expecting to walk in on a full-blown domestic when she turned around to get Ahsoka after the Force began screaming at her after she left, but she has already had a very eventful day, and this honestly isn’t the worst thing she’s walked into.

Still, it's shocking to get to where she could hear Ahsoka talking and see her standing away from her lover, the same Miralian girl from the holobooth, trying to escape the Force choke she had her in. She also isn’t expecting her own fear seeing them, although the Miralian girl — Barriss, Ahsoka had said — staring her dead in the eyes while choking the life out of Ahsoka certainly isn’t helping her nerves. She can’t be much older than Ahsoka was — seventeen, eighteen at most, but the rage flows off her in waves. 

Ventress pulls out her lightsabers and levels them at the younger girl, which seems to only enrage her further, her hand clenching just a little more, Ahsoka’s feet rising slightly off the floor. Her arms are starting to slow down the useless attempts at clawing at her throat. 

“Let her go,” she snaps, and Barriss’ frown gets even wider before she looks back at Ahsoka, her eyes wide as she finally pulls her hand away as if she has been burned. Ahsoka lets out a loud gasp and her hands fall from her throat, but her knees give out from underneath her and she falls to the floor, an audible thump from where she has certainly bruised her sensitive lekku. She’s still alive, Ventress knows, but barely.

“You turned her against me!” Barriss shouts, walking menacingly around while she thumbs her lightsaber.

Honestly, Ventress is baffled. She’s never even met this girl, and this is the only time she and Ahsoka have interacted without trying to constantly decapitate each other. What reason does she have to turn Ahsoka against Barriss? The last thing she wants to do is get involved with teenage drama and angst. She hasn’t dealt with something as awful as puberty in a good few decades, thank you very much.

As they walk, Ventress nears Ahsoka’s prone, limp body. She is still unconscious, which is a very bad sign. The lack of oxygen to her brain must’ve certainly got to her. 

She is given no warning except a small nudge in the Force before Barriss leaps at her in an arc, her blue lightsaber igniting as she tries to go in for a swing that would take her left arm off, Ventress barely manages to block the strike before she throws the other woman off her, the Miralian landing smoothly as she spins back in her direction.

“You will not take her from me!” So she still loved her? Maybe she shouldn’t have attempted to choke her to death, but romance isn’t exactly Ventress’ realm of interest. Maybe they were into that sort of thing? She casts a look back down to Ahsoka.

…Probably not.

Barriss launches at hr again, Ventress blocking her blade before going on the offensive, pushing her backwards. She had fought often against Soresu thanks to Kenobi, and the girl is nowhere near the likes of the infamous Negotiator in skill nor talent. If she had encountered her elsewhere, the Padawan wouldn’t be an issue for her, unlike Tano, who put up a good fight almost every time they had fought.

Ventress walks back in the direction she wants to go, but annoyingly, Barriss must catch on to what she is doing, because she turns her foot and goes on the offensive, forcing Ventress backward and into the skeleton of the warehouse.-- the exact opposite direction she was wanting to go.

They fight further and further away from Ahsoka until they’re in the doorway leading inside the warehouse, and Barriss uses the Force to grab a familiar red canister of sorts and throws it at her, but Ventress simply force-throws it back, to which she responds by slashing it in half.

White.

Bright, blinding white.

Oh, she thinks. That's why it was familiar. Acetylene gas. It is quite explosive.

When she gets to her feet, the place where Ahsoka was lying is covered in red-hot metal, and Barriss is somehow not dead, also getting to her feet with a scowl on her lips that, judging by the way her face contorts to make lines, isn’t a very common expression for her to have. Something small crawls on the floor away from the fire, and Ventress pauses when she notices what it is. That small, tiny clump was hundreds of nanodroids. Ahsoka had mentioned that nanodroids were the cause of the explosion.

All three of them are still alive, which is no less than a miracle in the Force. What are you waiting for? She asks, but the Force doesn’t reply. In fact, she thinks that if it could, it would be laughing at her. Ventress cracks her neck, groaning at the audible noise as Barriss ignites her saber again. She’s too old for this.

They slash and move throughout the warehouse while trying to avoid the spreading fire, with many things almost collapsing on them as they move through the warehouse. Clearly, Barriss is rusty with a lightsaber, but she makes up for it by the fact that she obviously knows the warehouse like the back of her hand, darting around corners and climbing up scaffolding that she never would’ve seen herself. 

Aside from her skill, Ventress has every disadvantage. She isn’t exactly sure what she's doing here, knowing it would be more logical for her to flee than stay and fight, but if there is one thing the Force is telling her to do, it's persist. So she does.

The Force shouts in warning, and Ventress barely ducks away from the slash of another blue lightsaber, and she turns around only to see none other than the second most annoying Jedi she has ever met, Anakin Skywalker. He looks furious. 

This day was just getting better and better. She should’ve just minded her business when she heard about the bounty on Ahsoka.

“Ventress!” he shouts, raising a blade toward her while Barriss jumps down from the rafters adjacent to them, her hood flying off. Her presence is whirling with so many emotions, but Ventress can sense, above all, the relief. She thinks she has a way out. “Master Skywalker! I’m trying to stop the attacker of the Jedi Temple!”

Oh, absolutely not! She knows exactly what this girl is trying to do. Although Ventress knows she’ll be vindicated when Ahsoka wakes up and backs what she claims, she doesn’t exactly feel like having the wrath of Skywalker on her ass when she’s already dealing with a rogue Jedi. 

…Oh. Barriss is likely the perpetrator of the Bombing of the Jedi Temple. Wow, she framed her own girlfriend? She could’ve just broken up with her in the normal way. 

She points at Barriss with an accusing finger. “I walked in on that girl choking your Padawan!” Skywalker stares at her before levying a glare at Barriss that could’ve killed a small child. No doubt, he can sense the truth in her words.

Barriss’ eyes widen to an almost comical degree. “She’s lying!” She shrieks, sounding almost manic. If Skywalker didn’t believe her then, he certainly does now.

She sees another Jedi drop down from behind Skywalker, a Kel Dor she vaguely recognises. 

Ah, Jedi Master Plo Koon. She can tell he is none too pleased to see her — to which she remembers cutting out his clone commander’s eye — but he ignites his lightsaber and turns it on Barriss anyway. The Padawan looks almost hysterical.

“She’s lying!” She screams again, but when it becomes apparent neither Jedi believe her, she leaps at the Kel Dor with her blade raised, only to be held in the air with a Force grip, Skywalker’s hand outstretched and his expression dark. 

She can hear the obvious sound of Barriss choking before she's slammed into a wall, the concrete cracking under the force of the blow. Skywalker lets her fall to the floor unconscious, and Koon rushes to the Miralian and places her in force-suppressing cuffs he likely wasn’t carrying for her.

Ventress deactivates her sabers with a sigh and hooks them on her hips, leaning against the wall as Skywalker looms over his Padawan’s ex-girlfriend. He turns an eye to her. Force, she is going to sleep like a newborn tonight.

“Tell me everything,” he snaps, and Ventress runs a hand over her head. She should’ve expected this. 

“If I get a pardon,” she snarks, but Skywalker ignites his saber and begins to raise it. Now might not be the best time to test him, considering he seemed to act like a feral animal whenever Ahsoka was threatened. She raises her hands in surrender, and he hesitantly deactivates his saber.

“I was originally going to catch your pet and turn her over to the authorities— collect whatever bounty was due.”

Koon rises with Barriss in his arms, and Skyalker crosses his own. “What stopped you?” He questions.

“At first, I admit, I was just interested in the money…and a little bit of revenge.” She admits. She had her fair share of encounters with the brat, and she was about as snarky and reckless as her master was, made worse by the teenager of it all. 

“But then I realized your fallen Padawan, and I had a lot in common.”

Skywalker’s eyes somehow darken even further, and he steps forward, jutting out a finger. “How dare you compare yourself to Ahsoka?” He asks, but Ventress scowls at him.

“It's true!” She snaps. She doesn’t want to admit this, to be vulnerable in front of Skywalker of all people, but it’s likely the only way to prevent him from killing her, regardless of the Kel Dor master’s presence. “My master abandoned me, and that's exactly what you did to her; you and your precious Jedi Order.”  

He doesn’t immediately stab her, so she thinks he agrees with her. Koon looks between them sadly before looking down at Barriss.

“How did you find this warehouse?” he asks her, his voice deep in sorrow. 

She points at the Padawan. “Tano contacted her through a holobooth, and she told her where to go. I merely helped her get there in return for the promise of a pardon.” Which she probably won’t be getting. All this time and effort wasted for no pardon or credits. “After I left the warehouse, I was walking away when the Force told me to turn back, which I did. I heard those two bickering and when I saw them, she was force-choking her. She accused me of turning Tano against her.” 

Skywalker gives her a puzzled look. “Don’t look at me– I’m just as confused as you are.” 

She gestures to the girl. “Either way, I think this whole thing about Tano being the bomber was because someone doesn’t know how to break up properly. Tano certainly didn’t do it, and Barriss somehow knew where this warehouse full of nanodroids was. Seems suspicious to me.” Koon taps something on his comlink and the green light goes dead. Had he been recording her? Who was she kidding? He absolutely was, and she hadn’t even noticed. She needed a nap. Or a pot of caf.

Fire licks at her heels, and Ventress steps away from the edge of a deathly drop she hadn’t even noticed, reminded about Ahsoka still underneath rubble with an encroaching fire. She looks at Skywalker. “Your padawan is–”

“My men found her,” he says. “She’s on her way to the Temple now for treatment.”

She raises a brow at him. “You trust them with her?”

He doesn’t answer.

Koon steps forward. “I’m afraid we won’t be able to extend a pardon your way,” he says cordially, and Ventress fights the urge to roll her eyes. Of course they wouldn’t be. “But we are able to look the other way, just this once, as a show of our gratidtude in helping protect Ahsoka.” Their show of thanks is not arresting her? How generous.

She snarled at the Jedi Master. “I didn’t do it for her,” she denies, but he merely shakes his head and walks away, leaving her and Skywalker behind in the collapsing warehouse. He finally put his lightsaber hilt on his belt. 

“Thank you,” he chokes out. “For turning around.” She frowns at him, but says nothing. As awful as it was to have her adherence to the Force be interpreted as kindness, it was nice to hear the infamous Anakin Skywalker force out a thank you to the person who gave him that rather lovely scar on his brow. 

“Stay alive, Skywalker,” she says, before she jumps up and out of the warehouse into the clear, recycled air of level 1314. She breathed in a large gulp of oxygen. She was going to go home and sleep until next week, and she couldn’t wait.

Master Eerin and Kix get along like a house on fire, and if Rex had any self-preservation left, he would’ve feared for his own safety in their presence. While the two are hyperfocused on Ahsoka at the moment, he feared turning his back and getting a tranq in the neck for his troubles.

When Rex walked through the doors of the Jedi Temple with a heavily injured Ahsoka and Wolffe, a small gaggle of padawans he vaguely recognised as Ahsoka’s friends ushered him through the Temple to the Halls of Healing, where Master Eerin — please, call me Bant — got to work, hooking her up to various machines all while stonewalling the infamous Vokara Che from entering the room. 

Wolffe had been a little perturbed by the sheer volume of little Jedi that had surrounded them, but Rex reminded him that Ahsoka was popular with her fellow padawans, and had many, many friends among them. Seeing so many of them so willing to risk punishment by helping a still-wanted criminal was nice for Rex to see, a bit more hope for sentients restored.

Of course, eventually the Jedi High Council had been alerted to what was going on, and soon enough, he and Wolffe had an audience with Generals Yoda and Windu in Ahsoka’s medical room, interrogating both him and Wolffe about what had happened.

When they had finished with the report, Yoda had glanced warily at Ahsoka, who was lying on the cot still unconscious, covered in bacta wrappings while they waited for the bacta tank to be ready. He began to talk in that way only General Kenobi could decipher before General Windu shot him a glare and told them their job was to now stand vigil over Ahsoka until Plo and Anakin had their own report about what had happened.

Ahsoka has a lot of injuries. Her left lekku is heavily bruised, covered in red and purple dots of burst veins and blood, and her leg is covered in third-degree burns, with the rest of her body having some second-degree burns. 

Her trachea is damaged— Eerin says she had been force-choked by someone for an extended period of time, and that, combined with the smoke inhalation, she won’t be able to speak for at least a week to recover. Her foot is the worst injury— he thinks. He doesn’t exactly understand what Kix and Eerin are talking about.

“Her adductor hallucis is cut clean through,” Kix says, prodding the foot with his finger.

Eerin looks at it from above, nodding along. “As is her second dorsal interosseous.” Safe to say, she wouldn’t be walking properly for a while. Guilt climbed up his throat, but he forced it back down. He had no choice. If he had tried to find another way, she could’ve died. Better a limp than death.

“We’ll have to repair the tearing before the bacta,” Kix tells her, to which she nods in agreement once again, and the two change their gloves before they begin to get to work on Ahsoka’s foot, Rex diverting his gaze when he can see the red of her ligaments come into view. Despite being a soldier on the frontlines for years, he’s never been able to deal well with gore.

Wolffe stands next to the door with a hand on his blaster, helmet off and face stricken as he thumps over the top of the barrel. He almost looks trigger-happy, and he can see Kix side-eyeing the commander as he works on Ahsoka, so he forces himself to get and puts a hand over his older brother’s, ignoring how his face contorts in outrage and confusion.

“Calm down,” he says, and Wolffe makes a noise, a mixture between a howl and a huff, before forcefully crossing his arms to take his hand off his blaster. His mechanical eye twitches. “What's on your mind?”

“Someone did that to her,” Wolffe says again, and Rex nods.

“They did.” It's an awful truth to know that someone holds so much hatred in their heart they were willing to choke his teenage commander, but many in this galaxy are cruel and evil for no other reason than because they can be. Ahsoka is powerful, a girl, and a Togruta. There are many people who would like to see her hurt, or worse. But that’s not the only thing on Wolffe’s mind, and he knows it. “But that’s not your issue now, is it?”

Wolffe purses his lips together. “She…she was working with her. Ventress.” The reason Wolffe had his cybernetic eye. Rex paused and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“I won’t try to justify it,” he begins slowly, “But you know as well as I do that she wouldn’t have worked with that woman unless she had no choice.” Which she probably didn’t. She was being hunted by everyone she had ever trusted, and would've had nowhere to turn. Except Ventress, apparently. “Ask her about it when she wakes up; don't let the resentment brew inside. I’m sure she’ll understand.”

Wolffe nods tersely and looks back over to Ahsoka, who is being transferred from the cot to a transport bench— the bacta tank must be ready. “I hope she’ll be alright,” Wolffe mumbles under his breath, and Rex knows he's not just talking about her injuries. The Senate Dome looms in the window of the medical room, casting a shadow over Ahsoka.

“I do too,” he replies.

“The charges against Ahsoka have been dropped,” Padmé says to the Council, donning another one of her beautiful dresses. It’s one she wore before when she went to Mandalore with Ahsoka, Senator Mothma, and Senator Organa for a peace conference. Light and dark purple robes that flow down her body, with vine and floral patterns on each inch of fabric. Her beautiful brown hair is coiled in twists that curl around her ears, with a long braid down her back. The silver headband reminds him of Mandalorian Gladiators.

She looks beautiful, as usual, but she is here for business and business only, her smile unusually absent and her back straight. When she had offered to act as Ahsoka’s lawyer after he told her what had happened, he hadn’t been expecting it to this extent, but he kicks himself for never thinking otherwise. She cared so deeply for their girl, more than anyone else he knew, although he knew Rex and the rest of the 501st would rear their heads at such a statement. Maybe Anakin’s thoughts are muddled— leave him alone; he's admiring his wonderful, intelligent wife.

“The Senate sends their apologies for ever believing her to be guilty of a crime that she most certainly would never commit.” Her tone is harsh, but he can sense the calm inside of her. Everyone seems at ease, albeit perturbed by what had happened. They are no longer at risk for defending Ahsoka, but…

Padmé frowns as she looks over her data pad. “However, by the request of Admiral Tarkin—“ Anakin feels a lash of anger through her at the mention of his name. No doubt she would not be forgetting the man’s refusal to let her talk to Ahsoka while she was imprisoned. “—the Grand Army and Galactic Senate request you hand over custody of Barriss Offee to allow for a military trial.”

Custody. Barriss is still a minor and a ward of the Jedi Order. To hand over custody, they would have to expel her. Master Mundi lowers his head, and Anakin recalls that he is close to Master Luminara. He wonders how the woman must be feeling. 

“We agree to those terms,” Master Windu says solemnly, melancholy drowning the room in sorrow at what has transpired. While he doubts anyone here knew the extent of Ahsoka and Barriss’ relationship like he and Padmé do, everyone knows they were friends. Barriss was a loner in the Jedi Order compared to Ahsoka, who was very popular among her cohort, but the two had stuck together regardless, with many masters regarding the two’s relationship with fondness. 

And Barriss had framed Ahsoka for terrorism and murder. She probably would’ve gotten away with it, too, if she never tried to meet up with Ahsoka. Barriss had Fallen under the watchful eye of all the Jedi, and Ahsoka had most certainly almost been expelled for a crime she didn’t commit, since everyone here knows Tarkin would’ve forced their hand.

Padmé smiles thinly and bows, walking out of the chamber with her head held high. He casts a look over to Obi-Wan, who looked far more dishevelled than usual, and his former master nodded his head in approval. He sends a thanks through their bond, the first time they have used it in a while, and gave the Masters a less-than-formal bow before darting out after his wife.

She is waiting for him, because of course she is, and they settle for a mere embrace in the shadows of the Jedi Temple corridors as they walk toward the Halls of Healing. “So,” Padmé whispers, “Barriss is the one who choked Ahsoka?” Her voice shakes, but whether it’s with sadness or anger, Anakin can’t tell.

He settles for a nod, not trusting his voice. He had screamed himself hoarse when he got back to the Temple after handing Barriss over to Fox two days ago. He had to drink a bacta salve Kix prescribed, and even then, he has to be careful with his voice now.

“I can’t believe this,” she mutters, and they step closer together as they link arms. Anakin can see Ahsoka and Barriss doing the exact same thing, Ahsoka leaning her head on Barriss’ shoulder as they walk through the halls of their home. Ahsoka was so happy. Why did Barriss do this? Anger rises in his chest and threatens to engulf him whole, but he forces it down. His anger would do nothing for Ahsoka now.

When they enter the Halls, Bant is quick to give him a small hug before ushering them both toward Ahsoka’s room, where Anakin can sense three presences inside, Wolffe standing vigil by the door even though Ahsoka’s biggest threats now were no doubt the group of Ahsoka’s friends who threatened to break the visitor limit. When he enters the room — Bant walking off somewhere to treat other patients — he sees Rex sitting next to Ahsoka on her cot, rewrapping bacta patches on her hands, and Kix off to the side, sorting through unknown pills. 

Padmé breaks free from him to rush over to Ahsoka, who looks up from where she had been absently staring at her blanket. Her blank face lights up seeing the older woman, and she leans up in order for Padmé to wrap herself around her, a gentle hand resting on her back lekku. “Oh, my sweet girl,” Padmé says. Ahsoka had been out of the bacta tank for a few hours now, and awake for a few less. 

Ahsoka opens her mouth, but Kix shoots around with a glare strong enough to put even a Sith Lord in the ground, so she hesitantly closes it again. Rex finished the wrappings, and Ahsoka lifted her hands up into eye view and began to move her fingers covertly. Mandalorian Sign Language. Anakin knew a little since it was common signs used on the field, but nowhere near the amount of Ahsoka and the men. 

Red smiles sadly and turns to look at him. “She’s asking if you’re alright.” Anakin is almost baffled at the question, but it is so honest and innocent he cannot help but tear up because even as Ahsoka lies on a medical bed, she still wants to know if he is okay. Ahsoka signs something again, and Rex pauses. “I told her about your confrontation with her, and she wants to know if you were injured.” It goes unspoken who she is.

Anakin wipes his eyes and sits down next to Padmé on the bed, resting his hand in her things since her hands were currently being used. “Yeah,” he chuckles wetly. “Are you okay, kiddo?”

Ahsoka smirks and whatever she signs after makes Rex cough down a laugh before giving her a stern look. He signs something to her, something short, but Ahsoka signs back another thing, looking very pleased with herself, so Rex quickly gives in and turns to them. “She says she feels like someone dropped a building on her.”

Humour. Usually an A-class tactic to avoid conversation, and one Ahsoka had learnt from him, Obi-Wan, and the clones. Honestly, he shouldn’t have expected anything different as a response.

“Your charges have been dropped, ‘Soka,” Padmé informs her, and Ahsoka’s shoulder slumps in relief as Padmé’s hand on her knees tightens just a fraction. Instantly, Anakin can feel the weight that has been on her since the moment Letta Turmond was killed, lift. Her presence in the Force lightens, and their bond becomes more visible on her end. But almost as soon as it starts, it ends, her eyes darkening before she turns back to Rex, signing something which makes his man falter.

Rex turns to him, a solemn look on his face. “She’s wondering about Offee, sir.” Anakin shares a look with Padmé, and he can hear Kix behind them stop working on his pills. “About what's going to happen to her now.”

Padmé swallows, then takes Ahsoka’s hand in her own. “I want you to know that what has happened…none of it is your fault. There is no way you could’ve known Barriss would’ve done something like this.” Ahsoka, once again forgetting she isn’t supposed to be talking, opens her mouth to retort, but Padmé tuts her. “I mean it. None of this is your fault. There’s nothing you could’ve done.”

Ahsoka stares at her intensely, and the look in her eyes tells Anakin she doesn’t really believe all of what she's saying, but she nods in agreement anyway. Padmé takes a deep breath before she begins. “Barriss is likely going to be subject to a military trial since she is a commander, and as such, the GAR is asking that she be expelled from the Order so she can face trial.” Ahsoka’s brows arch up in shock, and devastation rips through their bond, although she quickly tries to raise a wall to conceal it.

“Barriss has already confessed to the Temple bombing, the killings in the Detention Centre, and attacking you. The trial will be for punishment, rather than guilt. However, since she confessed, she won’t be executed.” Ahsoka looks between them, her expression unreadable. He can’t tell how she's reacting to the news, since he simply leans back against her pillow and holds Padmé's hands tighter.

But a thought slips through. Like how I would’ve been. Anakin can’t help but gasp in shock even as Padmé and Rex turn to him in confusion, but he can’t help it. If Ahsoka was caught and they never found Barriss, things would’ve looked bad. She probably would’ve been expelled and put on trial the same way Barriss is about to be, but she never would’ve confessed her guilt, so the death penalty would’ve been on the table. If she were found guilty…

Anakin can’t even find the time to be angry at the idea that his padawan could’ve been killed by the government she’s given up her life for, because Ahsoka looks devastated. Tears brim in her eyes, and when one falls, she makes no move to wipe it away, leaving Padmé to wipe it away herself and bring Ahsoka to her chest, being careful to not aggravate her wounds. Anakin is quick to take the other side, and Rex takes on the other, wrapping Ahsoka in their arms as the first sobs begin to break through.

Anakin has time for his anger later. When Ahsoka is asleep and no longer in pain. Right now, he has to be here for his padawan.

He does his best to ignore the burning absence of a severed bond in Ahsoka’s mind.

They want to make her a Knight.

Really, Master Windu said that being in the run was enough to replace the usual Great Trial padawans go through, and they offered to knight her the day after tomorrow. They already had everything ready– a scheduled time, a battalion, a promotion in the GAR to General.

Ahsoka said no. Obviously. Even if it wasn’t a half-assed apology, she wasn’t sure if she was ready to be a Knight. If she said yes, she would’ve been the youngest Jedi Knight still alive in the Order, the youngest of her generation, and the second youngest in recorded history, after the legendary Master Vernestra Rwoh. That just seemed like too much pressure on her. She also definitely isn’t ready to be a general. She keeps Rex's praise close to her chest, but she wants to be a worthy General to her men, and she can imagine that she won’t be in the best mindset for the next couple of months.

The Council had been shocked. Astonished, felt more accurate, by the way that even Master Yoda had seemed surprised by her decision. Anakin had been too, until he had grinned and laid a hand between her montrals — the most affectionate gesture than can reasonably do in front of the Council — and promised her that he would complete her training eventually and would try his best to be a worthy Master he could be until the time for her to be a Knight came. 

Master Windu had graciously accepted her refusal, but had then told her the offer would stand until her Great Trial came naturally, or if she changed her mind. So, Ahsoka could become a Jedi Knight whenever she wanted to. She’s pretty sure that’s also a first. 

The walk back to their quarters from the Council meeting is silent, the halls empty since it had happened so late at night. It's not really a walk either. Ahsoka is being pushed in a hoverchair by Anakin since she isn’t able to stand on her foot yet, with it still healing from where it had been sliced in half. She can tell by the way he’s twitching he would much prefer to just carry her back to their rooms, but he can’t just abandon the chair in the middle of the hall, so he pushes her anyway.

Indeed, the moment they get to the door, Anakin is pushing the hoverchair into the corner and picking her up from under her arms the same way he did when she was smaller, carrying her in his arms to his room. 

This is another thing that's familiar. Sharing the bed is discouraged among Jedi, but it was common for younglings to sleep in piles in their creche, and Ahsoka had kept the habit up amongst the clones, who genuinely slept in heaped piles on the Venators, and with Anakin and Padmé, whose bed she would end up climbing into half of the time she stayed over at her apartment.

He pulls up the blanket from the floor with the Force in a display that would have Master Obi-Wan shaking his head, placing her on his mattress and flopping down next to her just as the duvet settles over them both, smelling like the shitty cologne Anakin likes and grease. She looks over in the corner of the room and sees R2 powered down, still a bit dirty from the Defence of Cato Neimoidia. 

Anakin pulls her to his chest, tucking her montrals under his chin while his hand settles on her back lek. Her eyes begin to droop, and she does a playful growl when she realises it partly due to her own exhaustion and partly because of the sleep suggestion Anakin is trying to secretly send her. He just smiles and kisses between her montrals before getting back into the position.

“Rest, akku,” he murmurs, and Ahsoka lets her eyes slip shut. She has so much she has to think about. Barriss’ betrayal, the war, her men, Jedi Knighthood.  She’ll have to confront reality eventually. But not right now. Right now, she can sleep. So she does.