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Taken at the Flood 6

I trust him, and he trusts me. So why do I feel like this was a bad idea?

Ahsoka Tano licked her slightly chapped lips from the arid air, and she wanted something other than sand as a visual. Still, it seemed her journey across the dunes finally paid off— she had her lightsaber, Stinky was on her back in a makeshift harness, and Artooie was by her side. It seemed things were looking up. But as her destination became nearer and she saw what saw was waiting for her, the recent memory of her Master played in her mind. It was after Skyguy had said he didn't know what to expect. But that he could(probably)handle it.

"Wait, back up," she had said, "what do you mean 'don't know what to expect?'

Anakin's face dropped as if berating himself for revealing too much information.

"That's the Dark Side we're sensing, right?"

"We've established that, Snips."

"So, is it another assassin like Ventress? Or Count Dooku himself?"

He was silent for a moment.

Then he said, "At first, I thought so, but," he shook his head, "look, maybe it's just me, but there was something in that feeling. Something," he used the words tentatively, "familiar."

Okay, she could see that it bothered him. Ever since they landed here, her Master's mood had taken a turn for grimmer than grim. She tried to get him to talk about it, but he was just so stubborn. Also, she wanted to avoid pushing her luck.

But in that case.

"Isn't that all the reason why we shouldn't," she stressed the word, "separate in the vast, merciless desert? That was the world you used earlier: merciless!"

"Look," Anakin said forcefully, "if it's nothing, then I'll defeat it, then move on. But if it's really familiar and not the heat playing tricks on me— if it's what I think it is— then it's better if I do this alone."

Her heart sank. Not only because her anxieties went back to a lack of trust and faith in her abilities but for her Master. This most recent mission showed her he could be fun and adventurous, what most Jedi said he was. She had come to care for him.

To see him on a new edge, different from the one he'd been on when he said the name Ventress, had her beyond worried. It was Stinky's little cooing noises that reminded her of the bigger picture, but still…

"And besides," He said, trying to muster some of that playfulness, "do you really want to try and take on Count Dooku?"

"I will if you tell me to," She said before she caught herself.

Her Master's expression softened in a blend of gratitude and, maybe, pity. Several other expressions shimmered over his face, as a mirage would in the desert, but those two were the most consistent.

"I trust you, Snips." He repeated with twice as much sincerity as before.

From there, the debate had finished. The Togruta and Astromech departed from the Knight, taking the Huttlet in tow as the twin suns sank further into the ground.

That was then, and the now, of course, had become darker and more surprising. Ahsoka Tano had been walking down the gully that led to a narrow path. Just to her far right, she could see Jabba's Palace was less a formless spot in the distance and now a tall, solid, cylindrical structure. The path brought her closer, the shadow of Jabba's home commanding the dunes from high above the cliffside.

Most Padawans her age talked about the Padawan champion of podracing—taken into the Jedi Order older than most were allowed and became a well-known maverick among Masters. She knew he wasn't the only one who joined at an older age, though no one's face immediately came to mind. No one stood higher than Skywalker, some Padawans had said. So many questions filled Ahsoka's head, each centered on her Master. She could sense something resembling his feelings from how evasive he was about his past. He was probably taking pains to bury the deep ones out of Ahsoka's range.

If only she could help him. But the best way to help him now was to honor his wishes and get to Jabba.

Artoo trilled a warning and Ahsoka flashed her green blade in a reverse Shien grip. She saw what had caught her attention: five humans or humanoids walking down the opposite path as her. They took their time, and the shadows obscured their faces, but she could sense murderous intent. Maybe they were with Jabba and waiting for her, but she wouldn't take any chances unless she knew otherwise. The only one to get Jabba's son was Jabba. They stopped at least a meter from her, and she saw them, her grip never slacking.

"Evenin' little Padawan." said the tall, amicable Twi'lek male whose face looked anything but amicable.

"Who are you?" she demanded. Artoo blipped behind her, and Stinky gurgled on her back. After that mess with that traitorous droid, she should be more cautious.

"My name is Tavian Jekk." said the tall Twi'lek, draped in a rugged coat that may be shell-spider silk. Ahsoka could see armor on his body and stiff-looking shoulders, and as he placed an arm to address himself, she saw it was a gleaming metallic arm.

"Poskurr, naturally." said the shorter Zeltron man in golden robes with flowing bell-shaped sleeves with white lines trailing up them. There seemed to be other figures trailing within those white lines, but Ahsoka couldn't tell what they were.

Poskurr turned to the three humans standing behind him.

"Gentlemen." He said with an incline of his head in Ahsoka's direction.

"But—" One of them began.

"The girl wants to know who we are."

The tallest one stepped forward first, his bald head and broad face a temperate brown, "Jersha."

The medium-sized man, the same brown shade but with a browner head of hair, said next, "Jersha."

The last and shortest one muttered before he shouted, "Nizala."

To Ahsoka's eyes, they all looked related, and they probably were. They each wore scattered bits of clothing, looking half like beggars and half… Ahsoka wasn't sure what the other half was, but the shortest and thinnest one wore bright turquoise shoes—a significant contrast to the middle's worn-out shoes and the tallest man's combat-looking boots.

Just as the duo moved to bow, Ahsoka blasted a wave with the Force. It sent the three brothers away, and Tavian lost his footing, tumbling to the sandy floor. The plan was to vault over this group and speed her way to Jabba.

Once she reached two meters or more into the sky, she didn't expect Poskurr to skyrocket his form to meet her. Mid-flip, Ahsoka felt a heavy force impact her back, and she was back on the ground.

She rolled off her back, immediately sending another wave through her hands. But to her surprise, Poskurr flowed through the attack.

In Ahsoka's eyes, as the Zeltron landed on the ground, his body simply went limp as though the wave went harmlessly over him— as if he could see what she threw at him and fell below it. His feet hit the ground, and he rushed Ahsoka.

His hand flashed, and Ahsoka heard a whistle next to her face and a slight tap behind her. Ahsoka had felt the blade's target was far from her face, so she hadn't moved. She could also sense the underlying message: don't interrupt.

Poskurr clapped once, "Ask us another question."

When Ahsoka realized he was speaking to her, she made a face—she steeled her face and figure to hide how twitchy she was at the lack of combat. After everything that happened, between giant underground droids, a crash landing, and a potential Sith lord, she didn't know what she was expecting. How often does someone force a pleasant conversation?

The Twi'lek, Tavian, dusted himself and sighed, "Have it your way. I'll level with you, child: we are warriors, killers on a mission, and, more importantly, your enemies."

Well, that answered a few questions. As he spoke, she saw Poskurr turn to the three men. He seemed to be whispering and handing out something, though she couldn't tell what. More blades, likely.

"Could've fooled me." Ahsoka said, tilting her head, "I thought you were a comedy act or something."

"A lot of charm for someone who's been brought down to the ground," Tavian chuckled, "Listen, child; you are young and green as they come. I can see that from your eyes. Just walk away and give us the Huttlet." He held out an extended, mechanized hand in front of him.

"So you can kill him?" She shook her head, "Not gonna happen. A lot of droids underestimated me, and they came in all sizes. If you think you can stop me just because I'm a kid, you've got another coming, sleemo."

It was a bold thing, speaking this way, but she and Master Skywalker had destroyed a Vulture droid together and outran a Sith assassin. She could do this. She wouldn't underestimate these people.

"She'll be a fine Togruta," Poskurr remarked a few paces behind.

"If she survives." Tavian smirked, "Droids are one thing, kid."

Alright, that's enough.

The Togruta blasted a plume of sand to obscure their sight. They wanted a fight; they'll get one!

Ahsoka watched as Tavian raced to her with an outstretched fist, so she mimicked his approach. She intended to slice off his arm, but as her blade met it, her eyes widened, changed her tactic, and pushed it away. In doing so, she flipped backward, gaining some distance from the needle-like blade on his arm.

Tavian stared at her with a sly, smug grin and allowed his blade to gleam with the light of Chenini and her sisters. Tavian stood up and stretched his left hand out. To her amazement, Ahsoka saw an identical needle-like blade sprout out of his forearm. The blades looked longer than her head, and Tavian ground them together and created a grating sound before tapping them together for a haunting ringing bell, tolling for a battle.

Tavian marched forward; his tipped teeth bared a predator's glee. However, he halted in place at the surprising and electrifying feeling coursing in his torso. To his right, he saw the little blue astromech droid firing an electric prod in the Togruta's defense.

"Cute," Tavian said, and before Ahsoka could call Artoo away, the Twi'lek launched the droid away with a spin kick.

"Artoo!" She cried, watching the droid fly down the cliffside with a squeal.

Ahsoka adjusted her stance, "Four against two. Stinky, watch my back."

Ahsoka saw something of an audience forming: the three men were closing in while the Zeltron, Poskurr, watched from a distance. As the three men circled the two combatants, warily steering clear of their swings, Ahsoka peered through the Force. The most emotions she could sense were obviously from Tavian; it reflected in his style: pure delight, long sweeps of whining metal, and a pure sense of feral intensity. Up close and personal, as if that were the only way he could fight.

But then, there was also a sense of class. Breaking away from a blade lock, Tavian stood back, measuring Ahsoka's skills with razor-sharp eyes, and gave a nobleman's bow.

She'd had enough, "Why are you doing this? He's a baby!"

Tavian raised a brow, "He's also a Hutt, kid. They'll pop out another one sooner or later."

Then, Tavian lunged, his wild face in front, his bladed arms outstretched like the wings of a hawk-bat. The sand kicked around the fighters, and Ahsoka found herself comparing this fight to her scrap with Ventress. The Sith assassin had flicked her away without a second thought, even threatening to start hacking body parts to get her Master's attention. Her focus had always been on Master Skywalker and no one else.

Tavian only had eyes for her, which sounded so wrong. But now, Ahsoka was the most significant threat and Stinky's best protector. Still, Anakin Skywalker could probably make short work of this guy. Her decision was made as she twirled her blade, blocking every slice faster than she had ever moved. Get past this guy and his cronies.

Unfortunately, this Twi'lek wasn't making things easy. Tavian pitched his blades forward in a leap, forcing her to flip away, but when he rolled ahead, he pushed forward and launched his boots into her. She hadn't flipped far enough, and his boots collided with her abdomen. She sucked in the air he knocked out of her and hurried to stand up.

He stood back up, intentionally taking his time to study her some more. He laughed a strange laugh as if he was remembering how. He held his arms over his chest in an X sign, the blades on his arm making for a casual yet arrogant taunt. He was good, but Ahsoka was sure she could do better.

She held her blade high, intending to crash it down, before skidding to her knees to slide it at his elbow, literally disarming him. But Tavian had anticipated it, and in a flash, he swung a backhanded blade and stabbed his left after. Ahsoka would switch her sword, trying to get within his weak points, but he always met her.

"You're fast!" Tavian said. He caught her blade, and she tried to slide it forward before he pushed her away. She backflipped again, this time at a greater distance. The trick was to get him to pursue her and have him exert all his energy into attacking so she could swoop in for the final blow. It appeared to be working.

Tavian pushed past one of the men who formed the ring and leaped into the air after her. Ahsoka gasped but quickly blocked his oncoming swings and stabbings. As they descended, Tavian kept pouring down on her. Eventually, Ahsoka spotted her opening.

She allowed the Force to flow through her, her movements increasing past the sight of the normal eye, like a blur, and aimed her blade for the Twi'lek's arm; when she brought it down, however, her eyes widened as sparks flashed, and Ahsoka found herself stumbling where she wanted to attack.

Time seemed to slow down. Instead of rending Tavian's arm from his body, something lunged forward, wrapping around her throat. Before she could use her blade to stab her opponent, Ahsoka watched as the world spun; her body flailed like a ragdoll pressed against the Twi'lek's body, and the forearm's grip around her throat disappeared, and Tavian flung her away. She caught herself, gasped, and wobbled on the edge, trying not to fall off.

"But you can't hit harder than this!" Tavian crossed the distance and bashed his fist into her abdomen again, sending her careening down the cliffside. It was his arm! The arm she aimed for didn't fall off his body! She screamed as she slid down the steep, sandy slope, her speed increasing as she searched for something— anything— to stop herself from sliding. Eventually, her trip down the slope ended as she maneuvered her body to hit the ground, tripping and falling as she did.

"Ouch," she cringed from the pain in her abdomen. A little warble of discomfort came from her back, and she remembered that Stinky had taken the entire ride down face first.

"I thought you liked playing in the sand." She pushed the words out despite herself. Staggering through the pain, she took a few deep breaths and glared at the dim outlines of men above her.

"Alright," she said, "if that's how it's going to be."

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"So, is there a reason you didn't take the Huttlet?" Poskurr asked the proud Twi'lek.

Tavian laughed, "Please! I'm not done having fun."

Poskurr said nothing, but he did close his eyes and inhale silently.

"So, why the daggers?" asked Nizala, holding his new weapon in his right hand. He didn't know when the subject would come up.

"Shouldn't we use swords or something?" asked Jinso with the dagger in his left hand.

Poskurr regarded them, "Everyone has to start somewhere. Even the absolute best. And we're setting you down the path to our leader, so you should take his steps."

Tavian was eager to give chase, but Poskurr placed a hand on his shoulder. Poskurr stood to his side with an expectant brow raised. The Twi'lek rolled his eyes but crossed his arms. The two brothers looked at their oldest sibling: Jersha regarded the dagger in his hand. He knew little about blades but could tell the handle was crude, savage-looking, yet ornate. The blade itself was a deep jet black. Yet it somehow gleamed in the light of the moons as much as Tavian's own blades did. And the feeling each brother received from it.

It felt as if darkness itself was trying to become light. The brothers didn't realize this, but this was a sentiment they all shared.

"Is this necessary?" Jersha asked hesitantly.

Tavian rolled his eyes, "Honestly, you don't realize how much of a blessing you're getting right now."

Poskurr eyed Tavian but said to the brothers, "Have faith."

Tavian nodded before his sardonic grin returned, "Now, hurry up and get ready to hunt." He turned around, jumped, and began to slide down the cliffside.

Poskurr stood with his hands behind his back, and before following the Twi'lek, he said to the brothers.

"Unlike him, I'm not a fool. You've come too far, and I don't want to be crass, but if you three don't at least follow us, we will find you." Poskurr tried a small, welcoming smile, "This is a new beginning. And the ending is nowhere in sight."

The Zeltron in a golden robe stared at the three brothers again before departing down the slope to kill the Huttlet.

Jersha looked at his brothers and, for the first time, smiled.

"What's life without risk?" He shrugged and ran back a few paces before bolting to the cliffside and, with a jump, following the strangers.

Nizala stared at his brother's form, and before he followed, he looked at Ginso. There was so much he felt was being smashed down in their throats, so much he didn't know if he was allowed to say. So, instead, he rushed to his little brother and hugged him.

Ginso's eyes widened, and the whisper in his ears stopped him from hugging back.

"All we have to do is help them. Let them take care of the messy stuff. We're almost there."

So, Nizala, his face batting away the uncertainty in favor of a wry smirk, pushed his brother slightly and followed his elder brother. Ginso, surprised and slightly offended by such an interaction, sighed in defeat. He wanted to stare down at his blade before a voice broke through.

Whatever insecurities Ginso hoped he could pass off as a blase demeanor— hoped that they would somehow change everyone's mind on him—he took a few steps forward and placed five tentative ones on the steep hill before sliding.

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Tavian finally arrived at their new battleground: the small ravine with a wide path stretching a new course to his left with scattered boulders and huge stones standing around. Tavian tensed, springing his needle blades a few times as a serpent flicked its tongue.

The night sky welcomed many shadows, and the Padawan was now using them to her advantage. If she wanted to play like a little taidora cub, then he'll play. This Togruta didn't know what would hit her.

"Here, little 'gruty girl!" Tavian called, walking closer to and scanning the cracks of the rocks, "Get out here, you striped little sh—"

"Could you not?" Poskurr complained loudly, kicking sand and a rock that hit Tavian behind his leg. Tavian turned around with an annoyed reprimand ready. Only for a second. But that was enough.

From high above one of the boulders, Ahsoka's small form streaked downward and kicked Tavian straight across his now shocked face. Her lightsaber sparked as she rolled on the ground and swiped for his legs before Poskurr acted. Once again, the Zeltron appeared in her vision and delivered a hard kick in her gut before her weapon met her target. This time, before her back hit the ground, her hands pushed her body toward the Zeltron, his feet screeching to a halt.

Ahsoka's boot was ready to repeat the move, but once again, Poskurr's form seemed to yank itself away from the attack physically. He slid away from her and resumed his neutral position, hands behind his back.

Tavian stood up and adjusted his jaw.

"Not even a warning," He said, unsheathing his arm-blade.

"Defeats the purpose," Ahsoka said before launching a quick flurry of dashing swings.

"Not you." Tavian hissed and looked at Poskurr, "You did that on purpose!"

"Nonsense," said the bored-looking Zeltron over weapons clashing.

In another blade lock, Tavian smiled derisively. He pushed Ahsika's backflipping form away as she dodged his needle-like blade, "Come on! Get the Huttlet!"

The tallest brother was the first to attack, literally launching into action as he raised his onyx blade. At that time, a noise caught her Togruta ears.

Ahsoka's head snapped to where the distinct noise of a speeder bike raced across where Tavian knocked her off. Ahsoka dodged the tallest brother's swings and slashes as she shouted with all the strength her winded lungs would provide.

"Master! Down here! Master Skywalker!" He didn't hear her, "UGGHH! HE NEVER LISTENS TO ME!"

Tavian disguised his relief at the Jedi Knight's retreating form by saying, "Sounds like an unhealthy apprenticeship."

Jersha had fought and killed people before. Of the three brothers, he was most adept with a blade. In his hands, a dagger purely meant for stabbing was akin to the winds that can tear off roofs.

Ahsoka Tano didn't see this. To her senses, they were dangerous, certainly, but she could manage. Even as he spun around to stab her heart, she caught his reverse grip, pulled him down with all her might, and knee-kicked straight in the man's face. To his credit, he recovered quickly and pressed his attack through his bleeding nose alongside Tavian.

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She Force-pushed them with only Tavian recovering, his face now a bright, rabid glee.

"You're too young for this. Let us kill the Hutt so we can all go home!"

Nizala had joined the fight by then. His blade raised as he rushed Ahsoka. His target was her hand. If he could get her to lose the lightsaber, he'd solve all their problems. Ahsoka sensed the man's approach and had conceived a counter.

"Here's a thought:" She backflipped into a backward somersault, nailing Nizala in the gut, then grappled the man and launched him into Tavian with the Force, "You go home and leave us alone!"

She watched in satisfaction as they tumbled into one another. She didn't even know if that would work, but it's good to know she has the technique down!

To her far left, Ginso had arrived, surveying the scene before him. Ahsoka locked eyes with him, knowing that her blue pools read surrender. Unfortunately, his electric blue eyes didn't have enough hesitance anymore, and he charged at her with a yell.

She assumed her stance and was ready to meet his raised blade. Less than a meter away from striking her, Ginso changed his movement. She sensed that he never intended to stab downward. Instead, he dropped to the ground, slid on his back, and slashed at her legs.

Ahsoka let out a yelp, not out of pain or fear, but surprise at this attack. She didn't want to hurt this guy, and she could probably jump up and stab him if he was a droid. So, she continued to block the dagger's attacks as she constantly shifted her stance.

If he wasn't stabbing or slashing at her ankles, knees, or calves, she was twisting her legs and lifting her feet at the last second. He was pretty fast, but at this point, she was becoming uncomfortable.

Before she could push him away with the Force, that same gift warned her of a new attack. Nizala had closed the distance and pounced on her from above. She retaliated by kicking him in his chest.

Then, the tall one, Jersha, made his move. He somersaulted and, in a remarkable feat of acrobatic dexterity, met his brother's feet with his own before he even came close to landing face-first on the sand. Jersha's kick launched Nizala back into the air, where he caught something in his hand, and suddenly, he was baring two blades.

Ahsoka Force-pushed him away, flying through the air before Jersha leaped up and caught him by his ankles. Nizala's posture straightened itself like a plank of wood, but before Ahsoka could pay any more attention, Ginso bounced into her view.

She sensed the kick to her face before it struck, and Ahsoka backflipped away from the attack. Ahsoka's danger sense flared like a snap of her fingers, and before she could figure out what had happened, she felt the weight on her back disappear.

"Kill it already!" Tavian yelled as his form suddenly came into Ahsoka's view. Between blocking his swings, she caught sight of Nizala on top of the boulder where she once hid. Nizala held Rotta's squirming body by his tail; the infant squealed loudly. Ahsoka's blood froze.

"NO!" In a newfound drive, Ahsoka used all her power in the Force to blast Tavian and the approaching brothers away. She bounded up the boulder at the speed of a comet and struck.

Nizala had been close to accomplishing his goal. He had no love for Hutts, so this should be a breeze. When Tavian barked an order, he raised his blade for the killing blow, damning this species to hell. Yet, as the baby squealed in terror, Nizala saw his eyes. And he hesitated. Everything they worked toward disappeared in that second, and he could see himself. What was he doing? And what could justify it? His hand shook, perhaps the desert wind. His eyes watered— a miracle out in this environment.

And he couldn't do it. That fact seemed to pierce his heart.

"NIZALA!"

The voices of his brothers…why? Nizala's grip on the Huttlet slackened— he didn't want to drop the baby. He had to catch…someone beat him to it. Who? The small Togruta girl held the baby protectively in one hand. Her eyes were gleaming blue saucers stricken with shock… Her other hand pulled the lightsaber out of his chest.

The screams registered for both, it seemed. Ahsoka's wide eyes, now haunted, stared at Nizala's face as the man's pain faded just as life did. His breathing silenced, and his form falling, Ahsoka saw everything—even the regret in the man's eyes as he died.

"KILL THEM BOTH!" Jersha threw himself with the ferocity of a reek. Ahsoka's sense flared, and she reacted to the kick a second too late. She took it to the face and fell, twisting her body to land on her feet. Jersha followed, his face a savage nexu, only spurred by the promise of a kill.

Somewhere past the swirling mist of her mind, something guided Ahsoka's movements for those few seconds. She listened to its whispers. She obeyed every command to hold Rotta close to her chest as she weaved and willed her body to survive.

Now, her mind took in her situation: Jersha was slicing in every direction, trying to get her. Tavian had joined in to do the same. Jersha's attacks were wild and desperate, while Tavian's movements hadn't lost their precision. She had to do something with them.

Within her memories came an answer— one of the lessons in hand-to-hand combat and the foundations of Soresu. While she hadn't really clicked Form 3 as she did with Shien, she understood it all the same. Stay on the defensive until an opening presents itself.

So, multitasking between keeping Stinky safe and blocking with her lightsaber seemed the most ideal tactic. When Tavian came close to stabbing her, she flipped through the air to face-kick a winded Jersha. When Jersha flipped back on his feet, she took another risk: she allowed Jersha to stab wildly in her direction as Tavian closed in behind her. She could sense their disorientation and their frustration. The way they fought, it was like they never worked together before.

So, Ahsoka used that to her advantage. She blocked Tavian's blades, and when they separated, she expected him to keep his cool a little longer. But now, his swings became a frenzy. Jersha was getting closer. Tavian was attacking faster. So, she acted.

In the next instant of Tavian's strike, Ahsoka kicked the Twi'lek's knee, causing him to kneel. His first movement was to stab her. That's when she fell on her back and rolled away. She heard a gasp, and when she got back on her feet, Tavian was pulling his blade out of Jersha's belly.

"Jersha?" Ginso's voice came next. To him, ages seemed to pass as these moments replayed in his mind. He stood rooted in his spot, unable to move himself. Everything came in a haze. He didn't understand why Nizala hadn't recovered, but when he saw the blood spraying out of his older brother's body.

His breaths were slow at first, in and out. His body was moving on its own, in and out. Ginso picked up speed and shoved something out of his way, in and out. He was forced onto the floor, where he immediately launched himself off one of the boulders, in and out.

He was attacking something orange now, in and out. He somersaulted and felt his voice becoming hoarse, in and out! He swung wildly, his heart racing and vision now red.

In. Out.

He realized he was screaming; now his breaths were becoming a struggle, and tears were in his eyes.

In. Out!

He was pushed away and sent flying, but all he could hear in his head was kill, kill, They were killed! They shouldn't have been killed! Why were they Killed? I'll kill! I'll kill her! I'LL KILL HER!

He tasted blood. Something splashed his face. His breath was shuddering, and his wild eyes struggled to find the source of this sudden frenzy. He saw the Padawan Togruta clutching her shoulder with her lightsaber before gripping it in a defensive position, the baby held at her other side away from her.

"I didn't want this." She said to him. It was meant to sound assertive, yet it also came out as a plea. It didn't ebb away anything he felt, though. When he thought about raising his blade to attack again, he stopped. He lost feeling in his right arm. A glance down revealed it was on the ground, and his forearm now had a charred stump.

For whatever reason, he felt something more to this. A numbness that seemed to fuel him at the same time. Perhaps he was in so much pain that the physical dismemberment didn't faze him. Whatever it was, his left hand reached down, and he bent over and removed the dagger from his sliced limb and clutched it tightly.

"Neither did I," Ginso said, his face darkening and his mouth ignoring the warm iron taste in his teeth. "But now I do."

He could hear someone walking behind him, a sheathing sound of metal accompanying it. He readied himself, and she did the same—

"Stop!"

Everyone blinked at the voice when Poskurr jumped between the fighters with his hands in front of Ahsoka and Ginso.

"What?" Tavian asked from behind Ginso.

"Change of plans: let her pass," Poskurr said, and whatever reservations the Twi'lek had, they faded along with his arm blades.

Ginso's face became horrified, "You can't— she killed my brothers!"

"And we will give them a proper funeral, but we must leave," Poskurr said reassuringly.

"Why?!"

"Because Diomeni said." Tavian hissed as if that explained everything and shoved him to the ground. "That's for knocking me away!"

Ginso jumped back up and glared at Ahsoka. Ahsoka held back a flinch and watched as Tavian yanked him by his collar. The Twi'lek jabbed his finger toward something, and Ginso saw it was the dead body of Nizala.

"I'll get your big brother," Tavian said and casually moved to where Jersha's body lay in a pool of blood.

"Take the Huttlet to his father, child." Poskurr told Ahsoka, "Know that you go with the grace of Diomeni." The golden-robed Zeltron, as he said this, bowed his head, took two fingers and traced them down, traced them in a slanting line to meet each other, made another slanting line, then finally, held his palms and turned them on ninety degrees as if he flipped something upward. He clapped down his hands, lifted his head, and eventually walked away. Tavian followed behind, the limp body in his arms.

Ahsoka watched on, never daring to take her eyes off these people. She also couldn't tear her eyes away from Ginso as he struggled to hold his brother, Nizala's, body in his arms. He walked as if he were on autopilot, never taking his wide eyes off his sibling, never watching where he was going. She felt pity well within her. It nearly brought words of apology out for Ginso. But it was shame and fear that silenced these words.

And once the trio of attackers faded out of sight from the dark, narrow path four meters away from her, Ahsoka dropped her lightsaber and fell to her knees. It wasn't her wound that flared in the cool air or any of the bruises sprinkled over her. Whatever caused her to take several studying breaths, hang her head, and listen to her own heartbeat around her body, it followed her since Christophsis. She knew that much. It taught her her own mortality today, more so than any of the droids she had destroyed.

"Being a Padawan is hard." She said softly, sadly. A concerned warble awoke her, and she felt little Rotta's hand nudging her cheek. "Let's get you home, Stinky."

Well, at least she protected the baby. And now she could complete her mission.

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Sometime after the three had wandered out of the ravine, Diomeni found them atop a small hill.

"My Lord, we—"

"Say nothing. Let's go." Diomeni interrupted Poskurr but paused at Tavian's question.

"Why, my Lord?"

Diomeni turned to face them, "A few reasons. One is a silver lining:" He said, "By obtaining these trade lanes, the Republic will stretch itself thin far away from the Core worlds. We're playing the long game; remember that."

Ginso had yet to hear Diomeni's words and said less. All he wanted to do was glare. Glare at the thoughts that invaded his mind. His brothers were gone, killed by a Jedi, and all this man could do was stand around and talk. He hated his circumstances, he hated Jersha for ever agreeing to this, he hated himself for hating Jersha, and he hated—

"What is your name again?" Diomeni asked. Ginso stared at the man's curious expression but remained silent.

Tavian whispered into his ear, "I'd have answered him by now."

With a stern glare, the only child said, "Ginso."

Diomeni nodded, "The other reason is that someone must fulfill you. I want you to join us, Ginso."

Ginso was ready to tell him off before Diomeni pulled him forward, his feet sliding for a few seconds before choking on whatever snarled insult he had planned.

Diomeni, hand firmly placed around Ginso's throat, said, "As you are now, the Padawan will take your life or dismember you and hope you forget her."

"How did you know about—" The strange feeling of Diomeni's claw-like nail scraping gently on his skin brought a shiver. Diomeni didn't like this oblong face of Ginso and his blue eyes to be a mass of confusion and fear. Ginso, thin yet spry, was far off in Diomeni's mind as a monsoon, right by his side and laying waste to the unenlightened and the damned.

"I want you stronger, faster, and more fulfilled so that when you lay Justice upon the Padawan, you feel more alive than ever."

Diomeni let him go, with Ginso's anger washing away only slightly but now mingling with a desire to pay close attention to the Anzari's words.

"And we can't do that on the planet of vile revulsion. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that Jabba has heard of me." Diomeni bared his teeth, his face almost reptilian, "Secrecy is still our ally, but now, I see no reason not to fraternize with the light."

Diomeni laughed suddenly as he threw his hand out to grasp the body of the desert, crushing it to dust.

"Now, we are off! To join the war effort. To earn the CIS their victory. To submerge a hundred worlds in a flood of purification. When we're done, the galaxy will be a brighter place— Estrallio vola ty'ronia. Estrallio krua'sha tulu. Zeeshinza fue zublonia. Kahr'shiel da'ntohm curu."

"Do you really think so?" Poskurr asked, his voice filled with so many inflections.

Diomeni nodded, "Oh, yes. We are closer now than ever before."

Ginso blinked at the faint traces of excitement flickering across Poskurr's face and the full smile on that of Tavian's. He couldn't understand Diomeni's language, but this was of the greatest importance from what he could see.

And Ginso felt…something welling within him; he didn't know what. But it straighten his back and set his grief-stricken eyes, so perhaps he shouldn't complain too much.

A loud, rumbling, whining sound of an engine filled his ears. Speeding towards Diomeni's left, Ginso tensed and made to warn him of the speeder. To his surprise, no one rode the vehicle, and it slowed to a stop like a loyal dog. But the engine sound hadn't faded.

A few winds blew around Ginso, and he jumped when he saw, out of thin air, a part of the sky now dyed red with dark figures watching them over a ramp.

Ginso's eyes widened as he realized how similar the visual was to a ship's ramp stretched to greet them. But this was a ship! It was merely cloaked.

Poskurr moved past Ginso, and the man lost his balance when he felt a hard shove on his shoulder, courtesy of a laughing Twi'lek.

Diomeni watched them climb the ramp before smiling to Ginso, "And the last and most important reason: the final blow is upon the poor Skywalker."

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Anakin was half-tempted to let the man shoot Jabba. After all, no one would miss him. After everything that had happened, Anakin deserved something besides the Republic's thanks.

But when the man shouted, "For Diomeni!" Anakin acted like lightning. He deflected all of the blasts from the man's weapon, destroyed it, kicked him in the face, and all before Jabba could scream in outrage.

I saved him, Anakin thought. I saved Jabba the Hutt's life.

As some of the Hutt's people took the unconscious man off the floor, Jabba laughed heartily, bouncing Rotta in his hand. It was a strange reaction, one which set Anakin's face in a mess of confusion and horror.

Then, Jabba said, "That Diomeni. I want him dead for lying and scheming, but you must appreciate his dedication." He laughed again, "One way or another, your fear-frozen face brought itself to me!"

"What did he say, Master?" Ahsoka asked, only catching a few Huttese words.

"He said thank you, Snips," Anakin said with more heat than was necessary, "and that he's going to go through the rest of his men to make sure Diomeni doesn't have more assassins lurking in his home."

Anakin Skywalker clipped his lightsaber back onto his belt and marched out of the palace. Ahsoka watched, hesitant to follow at first. She turned to see little Rotta bouncing on his disgruntled father's hand.

"Goodbye, Rotta!" She said, waving her hand with a small smile. The Huttlet heard her voice and gurgled happily.

Now, she rushed out not too quickly to follow her Master. As she matched her Master's stride, he finally noticed her cut. He stopped her and looked at it in the moons' light.

"What happened?" He asked.

"Just a cut, Master." She replied a second too quickly. She smirked or tried to, "I'm getting my first battle scar."

Anakin closed his eyes for a second. He could feel sadness and pain within her, being battled by a job well done. Standing next to the measure of respect he now felt for this girl, Anakin kept his righteous anger at bay. Whoever had done this would pay. But for now, Anakin focused on the misplaced bravado he'd seen and used a million times as a Padawan, and he said to his Padawan learner:

"Sit down, let me look at it."

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There was an air of hope on Tatooine. To think, just some twenty-something standard hours ago, I felt a nerve-ending grip manifest within the rays of Tatooine and the presence of Jabba, but now, seeing Anakin and Padawan Tano unharmed and the tiny Huttlet in higher spirits than his sickly state, I'd say hope is the right word.

Even Rex, while still disheartened over his loss, had discarded this downcast mood for hope. It was the best we could do, I suppose.

Nothing that happened afterward was of importance. Obi-Wan had spoken briefly with Jabba to confirm a few inquiries regarding our state of cooperation.

What caught my interest was Ahsoka Tano's face. In that, after all this time, something about it matched her Master's. She was holding herself up well, but there was something about it. Something that had become more and more common with Padawans in the Temple. Something in the eyes…

My intent was to wait a bit longer. We were all of us riding on a Republic Cruiser: Anakin, Obi-Wan, Rex, Cody, Ahsoka, and myself. Throughout this exchange, we, the Padawans, were the ever-expectant silent knowledge absorbers we were meant to be. It was when the no banter or playful arguments kicked off our trip that two things: either I was…wrong about her character, and she was not a boastful bit of rambunctiousness, or something had happened on Tatooine.

And with the way Anakin eyed her, almost expectantly for a piece of repartee, it seems the latter. So, I have it down; I'm not wrong about who she could be. I'm never wrong.

A murmur can heard, the voice quite distinctly un-clone-like. I see Ahsoka's eyes try to reach her Master's.

Anakin's face shifts to everyone present; something about "raising morale" can be heard. There is no reply.

"Ahsoka—" Anakin pressed.

"I killed them." I heard her say amid the humming. I saw their faces: Obi-Wan and Rex had blinked, not expecting such a response. Anakin's face was most intriguing: he froze mid-sentence and seemed to fade away. In that second, his surprised blink came, and his blue eyes looked haunted, and his mouth stayed open for his jaw to readjust.

It's the face we make when we hear the last thing we want to hear— the face of a ghost, I would say.

All at once, the dam burst through for Padawan Tano. I could see regret enter those blue eyes, yet she continued in sporadic breaths, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, but, but I had no choice. I, I know I should have done better, but—"

"Ahsoka, it's okay." Anakin put both hands on her shoulder, trying to steady the girl's shaking and shuttering figure.

"Is it?" she muttered. She didn't shake anymore when Anakin Skywalker, hesitant as he was, wrapped his arms around her. No one said anything afterward, only if it was strictly necessary.

And what I needed to say was strictly necessary. But how best to approach it? For while I'm rarely wrong, I make mistakes. And I couldn't do that now.

When we boarded the Venator, I pulled Rex aside as the ships prepared for Hyperspace.

"Hey, so you definitely had a talk with her on Christophsis, right?" I asked quickly.

"Yes, sir." He replied curtly. My brow rose briefly before he asked, "You want me to do it again?"

I considered it but said, "You're going to be busy with other things, I feel."

"I can always make time for any soldier."

"Aw, thanks. But what I mean is, what went through your mind when you talked to her?"

Now, his brow rose, but he answered, "I wasn't trying to break her, first off. All I wanted was for her to realize where she was and who she was dealing with."

I muttered these words, trying them out. I was afraid of this next part.

"Are you going to talk to her?" He asked, "I think the Generals beat you to it."

I nodded, "Yeah, but I wanted to compare notes. I…know what it's like."

He stared at me in interest, "Do you?"

"Did you hear about the bounty hunter incident from a year ago? About the Padawan who brought them and some Yinchorri stragglers in for a riot."

"I did. Some other young'un stopped the traitor from letting sensitive information get to the Seps." He blinked, "That was you who stopped him."

My mouth was dry, so I nodded my head. It's not something I'm proud to talk about, much less put it in my memoirs. Because that's what these are now, my memoirs!

But now, Rex understood where I was getting at.

"She's quick, but that doesn't mean you should rush her through it."

I shut my eyes for a few seconds; then I bowed to the Captain. We parted ways as I navigated through the corridors to reach the bridge.

"You must tell me about that battle at some point, though."

I turned to see his face had some playfulness—an eagerness I would expect from a child setting eyes on candy.

I set eyes on his helmet. Particularly the markings I had struggled to place a culture on. Of course, the answer was staring me in the face.

"Those are Mandalorian markings, aren't they?"

"Jai'galaar'la sur'haii'se, they're called. Or Jaig eyes." He smiled, holding up his helmet, "It means 'shriek-hawk eyes' in basic."

"Something of a medal?"

"Something like that." He said, "It's a sign of honor among clans. Jango himself told me I had to earn these markings and that I'd know when I did." His face was half-grimace, half-smirk, "It was after Jabiim. After we thought Alpha and General Kenobi were gone. I did all I could that day, and I think Jango would agree."

I nodded slowly, "Mandalorians are a resilient people." After being out of earshot, I said, "So cool."

A few hours later, we arrived at Coruscant. Somehow, returning to the Jedi Temple didn't feel especially earned. Anakin and Obi-Wan gave their report on this most recent ordeal. Master Windu, Master Yoda, Master Rancisis, Master Shaak Ti, and the holographic forms of the rest all listened attentively.

I heard most of what I expected to hear: Asajj Ventress and droids and droids and more droids. One thing I hadn't anticipated was the word 'Anzati.' I perked up when I saw Master Windu's eyes narrow. My own Master's face became alert and worried.

"The same one from before?" Obi-Wan had asked.

"Red hair and everything," Anakin confirmed. His face was ashen and grim. "And what's worse: he's stronger than before. He's being trained in the Force."

"Trained?" Master Windu's brow rose, "How can you tell?"

"He used Count Dooku's technique." It might have been my imagination, but Anakin didn't look like he wanted this conversation to continue.

Then again, with Master Windu's face having reached a new level of seriousness, I don't blame him. I had read about Volfe Karko—the Anzati Jedi-turned-murdering monster who brought the entire Jedi Council together to defeat him. And Windu was there. He must have put his everything into defeating such an opponent and watched other Council members die trying. It's only thanks to Quinlan Vos that Karko is gone for good. Which reminds me, I still need to thank her for the new set of clothes.

"He will cause trouble for us again." Saesee Tinn said, from whatever planet he was currently on.

Master Yoda's eyes closed in contemplation, searching for answers in the future. We all waited for him, and I silently hoped nothing would interrupt him.

"See him, I do," He said, at last, "In glimpses. Strange it is. The dark side he carries, yet obscure him completely, it does not. Curious." After a few more gravelly hums, he opened his eyes, "Meet him, we all will. Hear his laughter, I do. Many forms he will take." He stuck his stick, "No more. Pressing time is for some, and nothing is there for you. Rest now, while you still can."

His eyes met all four of ours, concern written in those brownish-green eyes. But otherwise, he said nothing.

I could see in the girl's form that she had received a speech already. Most likely from Obi-Wan. She carried herself in a high, regal form, similar to Shaak Ti. Yet, her eyes didn't have that unpredictable element within. I could still do some good here.

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They were going to lunch, as promised by Obi-Wan Kenobi. But it was more like Obi-Wan would feel bad if he didn't reward everyone with a lunch.

Ahsoka was fine with it. She couldn't tell if she was very hungry, but she wasn't saying no. Her Master had promised to speak with her about what happened, and so did Obi-Wan. The weird thing is she didn't know why she was feeling this way. Because she knew that, at some point, she would need to make a decision like the one she made. She had heard that many Jedi had taken similar chances and moved on afterward. So she had to do the same.

Maybe it's the stinging she felt from her wound. Perhaps it's that whenever she heard that man's screams, her cut screamed with him. She tried keeping her eyes open as they navigated the streets of Coruscant; she was already on autopilot. But every time she closed them, she saw him. Ginso, that's his name. Ginso…

A hand fell on her shoulder, the one that was cut. The hand belonged to the man who healed it. Anakin gave an encouraging smirk, one she half-heartedly returned. The silent walk held until they reached Dex's diner, a favorite among a few maverick Jedi, or so Ahsoka heard. Just before they got to the doors, a voice spoke up.

"Padawan Tano," Zakriahs said, "can I tell you something strange I saw on Christophsis?"

Everyone looked at Zakriahs, his curious expression picture perfect. Anakin and Obi-Wan shared a look.

"Zakriahs, I'm not sure—"

'You're welcome to listen, Master Obi-Wan." Zakriahs interrupted Obi-Wan, and his eyes went to Anakin for a second. Ahsoka saw the curly-haired Padawan flick his lip with a finger, and whether this was some secret code or just the Padawan scratching his lip, Obi-Wan nodded. Anakin saw his Master's eyes, and both men walked into the diner to get a table. Anakin lingered for a few more seconds, seemingly trying to speak his mind before he let the door shut.

Ahsoka glanced at him, "Okay, what's this about?" Her tone wasn't rude, but there was a trace of discontent. Zakriahs' lip twitched for a fleeting second before he spoke.

"This isn't something that they've already likely told you: a variety of enemies in this war and whatnot."

Ahsoka raised her brow, wondering if he'd received the same talk from Anakin or Obi-Wan. About how there would be more than droids she'd have to face, like Grievous, Ventress, one of Dooku's acolytes, or even the Count himself. She had felt better when Anakin Skywalker promised her that he would take responsibility to see her trained and prepared. It had taken some of the weight she felt off.

Something about how Zakriahs simplified these words annoyed her just a bit, but then, he spoke again.

"No, no, all I want to do is tell you a story." He only continued when she waved him on, "On the first few days, we were sneaking past some droids through a few buildings. One of these buildings was a restaurant."

They stared at each other, Zakriahs clearly daring her to ask something and Ahsoka waiting for the point. "There was a dead body there. And I could feel their whispers through the Force. I have psychometry, you see." Ahsoka nodded, her face softening at the word, "It can be a pain to get through, but in that instant, and to my surprise, I wasn't focused on the poor souls who couldn't escape."

Ahsoka's brows raised, now openly curious about where he was going with this. Zakriahs half-shrugged his hands, and his blue eyes became perplexed. And his voice filled itself with astonishment and a slight quivering tone.

"The four bowls of soup— sitting perfectly on the table. They were a family there, and they mentioned something about Alderaan. I think they wanted to go there. But then, the attack commenced, and the parents dragged their two children out of the restaurant. And they never finished their soup— sitting there, untouched by dust or debris."

Zakriahs shook his head with a smile, as if he couldn't believe his own words. Neither could Ahsoka to an extent; it was only when she saw how shiny his eyes had become that she held her breath. The poor family, she felt, and their children.

"Sometime after that day," He continued, "Captain Rex and I rush past some droids. I wanted to s— to get to my Master while Rex regrouped the other soldiers. On our way there, to my surprise, yet again, we were in the restaurant again." He gazed into her eyes, "And the soup was there."

She blinked. How was that possible, she could have asked. Her mind ran with possibilities like perhaps there was somebody there who made sure it didn't get touched. None of them seemed to add up in her mind.

One possibility popped into her head: Zakriahs is making this up. He doesn't seem to be all there. She glanced down at herself, then again looked at her fellow Padawan. His features adopted a far-off stare, searching for something and haunted by many things. And trying to make sure no one was left behind. Maybe he was looking at the people walking on the street, but somehow, Ahsoka didn't think that.

This expression he had now…It looked eerily similar to her Master's. She knew something was troubling her Master since the beginning. And now, since his first lesson is to trust her instincts, she felt something deeper within Zakriahs mind and heart gnawing at him. She didn't understand it, but from how they spoke and carried themselves, Ahsoka took a guess. There was a loneliness to them. She felt this was the case for her Master, and now, she swore it wasn't dissimilar to Zakriahs.

Maybe he's not all that strange or different as I thought.

"I'll bet you anything that they are still there even now." Zakriahs finally said, smiling, "It's fantastic, isn't it?"

"...Yes, it is." She nodded, dizzily looking at this boy. She remembered this was a story he told her; she didn't know the point, but somewhere down the corners of her being, her heart recessing itself with memories of everything she'd been through and every chance she'd taken and every time she had to push herself further, she remembered something vital: she was Ahsoka Tano. She would become a Jedi Master, help as many people as she could, learn more, and help in every way possible. For reminding her of this, she smiled at him and said, "Thank you."

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I half-nodded, half-bowed to the girl. She only nodded, but the smile was slowly spreading on her face. It would be some time before it took form. I could only hope it did and the other two wouldn't take this lying down.

She didn't take my meaning, the reason I told her that story. Strangely, I don't feel bothered.

For now, I suppose I'll wait for her. There's a call to war resounding high and low across the rainbow spheres many will call home, and they need us still. Even so, under the unseen stars hidden in the glare of Coruscant's endless lights, I'll wait for her.

And if the galaxy is impatient, oh well.