Mira’s P.O.V.

Mira sat in the quiet room, waiting to be briefed by Sato. The muted gray hues of her surroundings seem to settle into her and affect her mood, and all the while the silence grew louder.

Am I overthinking things?

Perhaps she had passed judgement on Ahsoka too quickly. She knew full well how hard self-sacrifice could be.

Is it fair for me to expect so much of someone?

But there was more to it than that. It wasn’t just the question of whether or not she ought to expect it from someone but rather if she ought to expect it from a former Jedi.

Not long ago, Mira would’ve said “yes” in a heartbeat. Now she wasn’t so sure.

A Jedi is raised under strict parameters, just like a stormtrooper. One grows into an altruist, the other into a soldier. I’ve long since chosen not to hold a stormtrooper’s upbringing against them, yet…

Her thoughts ventured back to her conversation with Frida.

“The Inquisitors turned their back on the Jedi Code,” she’d angrily declared, “They revel in the destruction and despair of their former colleagues!”

“Do you believe that was their choice?” Frida answered.

Am I holding former Jedi to an impossible standard?

“The moment you can’t rationalize someone’s behavior according to your OWN standards, you cease to see them as a person,” Rain’s accusation rang through her skull, “They’re just a problem to you!”

Then Frida’s voice again, “All living things deserve to be understood.”

“I’d say ‘you know me too well’ if I could, but I’d be lying then, wouldn’t I?” Rain had said just before their attack on the Imperial dreadnought.

Finally, Mira recalled her own admission to Ahsoka that there were sides to Rain which she just couldn’t see.

Did I ever really understand my sister?

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Commander Sato said, stepping into the room.

“Oh, it’s all right, Commander,” Mira insisted, putting aside her musings.

“You may proceed with your report,” Sato instructed, seating himself across from her.

Mira began to recount the events of the mission, their easy boarding, their unexpected encounter, and their even less expected ally.

“Ahsoka was convinced that everything Agent Kallus said was a lie.”

Sato raised his eyebrows at her, “Really? In her report to me, she indicated the opposite. She was adamant that we should investigate what’s happening on Myrkr and Wayland. Her exact words were ‘Anything involving large shipments of kyber crystals must be of high importance’.”

Mira was stunned.

“Oh…”

It was all she could say.

Sato waved a hand dismissively, “But never mind that. Please continue.”

Mira hurriedly finished her report, was dismissed, and promptly tracked down Ahsoka, arriving somewhat out of breath after a rather lengthy search.

“What made you change your mind?” she gasped.

Ahsoka turned to face her, looking mildly surprised.

"About what?”

“About Kallus.”

“I haven’t changed my mind about Kallus.”

Mira’s excitement vanished, replaced by confusion.

“But…Commander Sato said you were more than ready to act on the information he gave us.”

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“No,” Ahsoka said, her tone lofty, “I already knew from the Church of the Force that the crystals were headed to Wayland. And after we returned to break the news of our failure—” She paused on the word, using venom to lend it emphasis. “—I asked them if they knew anything of what was happening on Myrkr. Turns out they had a spy there, one who recently informed them of an Imperial outpost not far from the planet’s largest urban settlement. I advised Commander Sato that we should look into it, and I believe he’ll agree with me.”

Mira’s confusion remained.

“If you didn’t trust Kallus, why would you want to rush into this? Why wouldn’t you assume he was intending to trap us?”

“I recall you being insistent that he was telling the truth. Have you changed your mind?”

“No…so does this mean you’ve decided to trust my judgement?”

Ahsoka shifted her weight, folding her arms across her chest.

“I still think you weren’t ready for that mission. And I don’t exactly see the wisdom in us working together again.”

“Ahsoka, I’m…sorry I called you cowardly. It was unfair, especially given that I knew full well how formidable the Guardian was. My first instinct was to run too. If you could give me another chance, I’m sure we could mend this.” Mira paused, sighing. “I’ve never been very good with empathy. But I’m trying…trying to learn.”

“Empathy, huh?” Ahsoka gave a playful smile, stepping forward and laying a hand on Mira’s shoulder. “I appreciate the apology.” She moved past Mira, staring off at seemingly nothing in particular. “I was planning on having you excluded from our upcoming mission to Myrkr, but perhaps you do deserve a second chance. Besides, Ezra seems fond of you. I’m sure he’d be disappointed if you couldn’t work together again.”

“Yes…” Mira said, feeling suddenly uncertain.

“Hopefully, the mission is as important as I believe it is. Imagine if we could stop the Empire all together from stealing or destroying any more crystals. The Church would likely never forget such contributions. For a while at least, those poor souls would see us as the center of the universe.”

Mira’s brow furrowed, her stomach twisting.

“Is that what you care about?”

Ahsoka aimed a sidelong glance at her, the light catching her eye and illuminating it in an almost unsettling manner.

“What do you mean?”

Mira remembered Rain’s words to the former Jedi, spoken during their first face-to-face meeting with the rebels, “Let us not forget your rather interesting concept of prioritization.”

Mira stepped back, her eyes wide with horror at how she could’ve missed it.

“Rain was right about you,” she said.

Ahsoka turned to face her fully, her eyes narrowing, “Excuse me?”

“You only care about attaining glory! That’s why you lied to Kanan and Ezra about staging a rescue! That’s why you wanted so much to return the kyber to the Church. And it’s what you want now!”

“How can you say that to me?” Ahsoka demanded, sounding pained.

“No more! No more acting like a victim. No more manipulating me.”

“Manipula—”

“You just tried to use Ezra—use a CHILD to puppet me! You told me you planned on excluding me from the next mission. Why would you be so unkind unless you intended to use that information to influence my behavior? And you used Rain against me!”

Ahsoka scoffed, “I only ever presented Rain as she should—”

“You had no RIGHT to say the horrible things you said about her! You acted like you regretted bringing her up all those years ago, but you used her to make me feel like I was inadequate! You are DESPICABLE!”

Clearly Ahsoka had had enough.

She snapped, “I am your superior! And you will treat me with due respect, understood?!”

Mira lapsed into a momentary silence, her anger turning to frigidity.

“I understand you perfectly,” she hissed, “And you deserve nothing from me.”

Mira brushed past the Togruta, but Ahsoka wasn’t finished.

“I’ll see to it that you lose your place with us,” she threatened, “Without my good graces, do you really think Sato will keep you around? You’ll be left with nowhere to go.”

Mira glared over her shoulder.

“Do as you wish,” she said, “But regardless of what happens to me, I won’t let you influence Ezra for the worse!”

I allowed it to happen to my sister, but I refuse to make that same mistake with anyone else.

“Trust me, you won’t enjoy having me as an enemy,” Ahsoka pressed, seemingly determined to have the last word.

With nothing left to say, Mira allowed her her petty victory, choosing simply to take her leave.

I truly hope you find your way back onto the right path, Ahsoka Tano. But I’ll expect nothing from you. After all, I cannot hold someone to a standard they long since discarded. That’s…not fair.

Mira slowed her steady pace, a lump forming in her throat. As her eyes began to brim, she made no attempt to stop the tears.

“I’m—” She choked. “I’m such an idiot.”