Archive of Our Own ^beta

As much as she hates to admit it, the darkness here intimidates Ahsoka Tano. Just a little bit. She tries convincing herself that it's a perfectly natural response when you're being hunted for sport by oversized, overconfident lizards, but then she remembers what her Master would want her to be — dauntless, swift-footed, strong-minded. There's no place for hesitation, especially not tonight.

She follows O-Mer and Jinx down to the beach, slinking through the vast, lawless nest of sinewy tentacles that consumes this island, except the narrow strip of sand at the water's edge. Even from this distance, Ahsoka can scent the beach, specifically the designated landing area — the stink of mangroves and sand, muddled with the sharp, unnatural linger of bloodshed. The smell sends every instinct embedded in her, both Jedi and Togruta, both recoiling from such a site of massacre as well as raising hackles in cautious anticipation. If the adrenaline wasn't well and truly pumping by now, then it definitely is by this point.

They stow themselves as close to the beach as they can, whilst still remaining safely out of sight. The steady presence of the two Jedi younglings beside her can only go so far in feeling under control. Quietly, even though the only things left on the island to possibly hear them as the native animals, Ashoka issues quiet instructions to them. "We'll have to be quick."

Both O-Mer and Jinx respond with nods and quiet sounds of affirmation. She still hasn't entirely worked out what to think of them — friends? Allies? The latter seems more likely. She has no tightly knitted kinship with either of them in the way they have with each other, or she has with Anakin; a precise, intimate embroidery of shared experiences that inevitably results in such a bond. Ahsoka is on the outside of this particular dynamic, but she's not offended by it. Once again her mind flits back to the compiled list of what she'll do when she gets off this wretched island — yes, 'when' and not 'if'. She refuses to consider otherwise, knowing that her Master would have high expectations for her attitude on the situation. For a moment her mind lingers indulgently on getting to feel the weight of her lightsabers in her palms again, sniping snarky comments back and forth with Anakin, accompanying the 501 on Republic-issued operations.

Then Ahsoka senses the disturbance long before she hears it or even sees it. The Force stirs, carrying a thrum of warning, that something is nearing with ill intensions. There's the rumble of ship engines, soon followed by a set of bleached headlights blazing through the fog.

The ship descends, gliding ominously towards the landing point like an oversized metal caterpillar. She hears Jinx's sharp intake of breath and before any of them can dare to reconsider a new command flies from her mouth. "Go!"

She's running before she's even realised she said it aloud, but Ahsoka swiftly adapts, her gaze jumping suspiciously between the gun pilot's cockpit and the sand. For now, it's vacant. She scales one of the tapered ribcage-like bones that slashes out from the sand and launches herself sky-high, using the Force to sustain such a leap. She doesn't need to look for Jinx and O-Mer, only knows they're carrying out a similar manoeuvre.

She slams down onto the glass panels of the piloting cockpit, calves singing from the impact, and looks down to see two of the Trandoshan staring at her. She bares her teeth at them. Their expressions are frankly shocked for a long moment, before one of them scrambles to his feet and makes a run for the overhead hatch. Through the glass she can hear the remaining lizard shout at the running one: "Don't let it get to the back!"

What's in the back? Her lightsabers? Another captured Jedi? Somebody else, new prey who won't be so easily overcome by the hunters and can be hence enlisted? There's the clatter of metal as the hatch is thrown open and the hunter crawls out, straightening, a gun in his hand and murder in his eyes. Those same reptilian eyes fixate maliciously on Ahsoka. Before either of them can make the first move, Jinx and O-Mer surge out from apparently nowhere and tackle him, the three of them hitting the metal roof of the ship. A swift swoop of the Force on her part and the blaster flies from the Trandoshan's grasp and plummets into the dark water below.

Now that the first lizard is preoccupied, Ahsoka lets herself down into the ship. It smells even worse down here, a festering pit of the lizards' unwashed bodies and booze. The front cockpit is more of a cave really, and she can see the pilot, apparently unaware he's not alone. Her eyes skim over the controls, specifically seeking that the ship is capable of hyperdrive. As soon as she sees the appropriate lever, she redirects her gaze to the seated hunter.

Without warning, she guides the Force to noose around his throat and thrusts him violently out of the chair, flying out of his seat and towards the back of the cockpit, towards her. She's long since learned to keep the ship's controls as undamaged as possible, and even though Obi-Wan Kenobi certainly wouldn't approve of her unorthodox methods, he certainly couldn't argue there's no opportunity for diplomacy in this situation. On the other hand, Anakin would have probably encouraged this approach.

The hunter writhes on the floor, his scaled hands clawing at his throat to ward off an attack he can't see, only feel. Ahsoka glares down at him. It's all too tempting to kill him, here and now, for both herself and all those kids in the past he's assisted in the brutal delivery and slaughter of. Vengeance is not the Jedi way, she reminds herself, and readjusts the grasp on his windpipe. His airway is no longer compromised, but only enough oxygen to keep him conscious.

But there's cages in the back. An idea springs to mind.

Ahsoka lets herself into the back, guiding the Force to drag him behind her. Still on the ground with most of his oxygen supply cut off, of course. This room, she recognises instantly. Dark and shadowy, all but bare with the except of the small cubed cages leashed above the hatched squares in the floor. All of them seem to be empty, apart from the one furthest from her, but Ahsoka doesn't let herself assess the occupant until she's cuffed the lizard's hands and feet with manacles located on the wall and removed his comms cuff. She throws him into a cage without looking at him and the Force finally abandons his windpipe. He sags against the latticed metal, somehow managing to look both defeated and mutinous at the same time.

Then she turns towards the other occupant, and suddenly she's the one whose breath has been stripped from her, though the Force plays no part this time. Crammed into the cage, a towering gangly-looking being, so large that straggly dark hair pushes through every open shape of the cage, is a —

"A Wookiee?" Despite that Jinx and O-Mer definitely need assistance by this point if they haven't come down already, Ahsoka hurries over and frantically unhinges the cage, stepping back as the Wookiee straightens gingerly from his hunched, tortured position. They stare at one another for a long moment, his dark eyes resting on hers gratefully, and before she can break the bizarre silence he tips back his head and releases a rumble of thanks, and introduces himself.

"It's nice to meet you too, Chewbacca," Ahsoka gets out, quickly putting aside her awe. This would certainly prove one hell of a story amongst the 501 unit, that she'd once encountered a fabled Wookiee, but that was for another time. "I need to get on the roof. My friends are fighting the other one."

The Wookiee releases a second rumble, this one communicating that there were only two hunters. Not needing any further motivation, Ahsoka tears back out to the rooftop manhole and launches herself back onto the ship's roof. A cold, stale wind is picking up, stirring the fog so much that she can barely see an arm's length in front of her. She can't see Jinx and O-Mer, and with the wind, it's hard to pick which direction the guttural sounds of hand-to-hand combat is coming from. She makes an educated guess and runs towards it.

As soon as she encounters Jinx's unconscious form, slumped against a corner, Ahsoka still stops to check his pulse, that he's breathing fine and there's no dents in his skull or awkward angles of his spine, and that's what costs her. She's still turning away from his body and straightening properly when a dark shape emerges from the fog and slams into her, knocking the air from her lungs. It's a blur as the remaining Trandoshan tackles her to the ground, pinning her down with his knees digging into her wrists. Ahsoka splutters, struggling against his weight, disarmed and disorientated, with her thoughts too scattered to properly summon the Force.

Anakin would want me to be strong, he'd want me to fight back —

The lizard raises his hand in a strange, splayed position, and Ahsoka's convinced he's reaching to strangle her when instead the hand dives towards her vulnerable stomach. She realises what his intentions are a second too late, when his clawed hands punch through her filthy Jedi garments and plunge into her flesh. Pain shatters from where he's punctured her flesh and Ahsoka has no choice but to accept the indignity of crying out, nausea climbing up her throat as black spots swarm her vision.

Her head spins. Distantly she can hear the lizard cackling, cawing something vile about her head. She's never exactly been trained on how to correctly react once a vital area has been butchered by a set of talons, but Ahsoka's pretty certain her various mentors wouldn't recommend blacking out.

Blindly she gathers what she can of the Force and clumsily thrusts it at him, but the hunter merely ducks the assault and laughs again. I will not die like this, Ahsoka tells herself sternly, even though her thoughts are muddy. I will not die as another victim of their hunt.

But then the lizard's weight is released from her, and now he is suspended in the air, writhing. Screaming. His hands, clawed hands still wet from her blood, scramble madly for his throat, by which he is being held. In a daze, Ahsoka fixates on the sight, and realises there is a new body nearby, and that the hands around the lizard's throat are not the invisible threads of the Force, but those of a Wookiee.

Chewbacca slowly turns the lizard so that they are eye to eye, and then he screams into the hunter's face, ear-splitting and all-terrifying. Then, as if the Trandoshan is little more than a lightweight sack, he launches the screeching lizard into the air with unyielding strength.

"Ahsoka!" O-Mer limps from the fog, his face badly swollen. His eyes are fixated on the her stomach wound, stunned, but not before his gaze falls to the Wookiee and his face holds a new kind of shock.

"That's Chewbacca," she offers dryly.

"He's a Wookiee," O-Mer gets out.

"Let's just get off this planet," Ahsoka gets up, and tries to haul herself upright. Pain explodes through her again and she slumps against the metal, panting. Releasing a placating rumble, Chewbacca bends down and gently scoops her up, careful not to jostle her injury. Being so close to him is bizarre, especially with all the hair, but Ahsoka doesn't protest as he hauls her ass from the windy roof of the ship back down into its cockpit. He settles her on the bench behind the pilot's seat, and she sags gratefully against a locker full of the hunter's weapons, blinking frequently to try and cast off the inevitable fainting.

Chewbacca then shuffles back to the manhole, where O-Mer has dragged over Jinx's still body, and helps both boys get back into the cockpit. The hatch is firmly sealed and Jinx is laid out on another bench, before Chewbacca and O-Mer move towards the respective seats for the pilots. The engine is fired up and the ship is steered away from that awful, haunted island. For a long, thoughtful moment they simply sit there in silence, watching the island grow further and further away, absorbing the events that just spiralled.

Ahsoka picks up a nearby rag, tossed aside haphazardly, but still looks clean enough. Her head is still spinning as she presses it against her stomach to try and staunch the blood flow. "We made it," she gets out hoarsely.

After a long moment, O-Mer nods. His hands begin to move over the ship's control panel with quiet, deliberate movements. "Where do you think we should go now?"

His question hangs in the air for a long moment, as Chewbacca soundlessly guides the ship out of the moon's atmosphere. "The rest of the hunters are still out there." Ahsoka says. "We need to make sure they can't hurt any more younglings."

"That goes without saying," O-Mer turns to face her. "But how do you suggest we stop them?"

Ahsoka slowly pushes herself upright, ordering her thoughts into formation. They arrange themselves as neatly as her woozy mind can get them. "We're in the outer rim, and there's no shortage of troops out here. We just need to find a Republic ship and contact the Jedi Council."

"And get you some medical attention," O-Mer interjects. "I'll be surprised if I can find any first aid on this ship, those hunters were so arrogant."

"That doesn't matter." At his words, Ahsoka tilts back the rag and cringes at the stain, specifically how red and wet it is. The sight of it makes her want to chuck up. "My Master's a General, they can send him and his men to us, or us to them. The sooner we get onto those other Trandoshan hunter, the better."

"Aren't you in the middle of a war?" O-Mer demands. His voice is distorted, like he's speaking underwater. "Surely the Jedi Council won't authorise us if there's the Sith out there, causing all kinds of trouble."

Ahsoka offers him a wry smile. She can feel herself fading now; her senses are practically dried out and her eyes are glazing. "I can guarantee my Master certainly won't be obeying orders if they try to tell us otherwise."

O-Mer notices her depleting state and his expression creases with concern. "Try to stay conscious, Ahsoka. You just need to hold on until we can find the Republic."

Chewbacca interrupts for the first time, a quiet rumble. O-Mer turns to her for the translation. "He says his home planet isn't far, if we want to go there."

"Is the Republic there? That you know of?"

Ahsoka shakes her head. His face hardens with resolve. She appeals to Chewbacca: "Get us to the closest Republic base you can think of. Please."

Chewbacca considers this for a long moment, then reaches for the hyperdrive. As soon as she sees the familiar white streaks, the nausea returns with a vengeance and Ahsoka scrambles to her feet, staggering blindly until she finds something to vomit in. She doesn't find anything until she stumbles into the back, where she finds some kind of crate for what looks like stun blasters.

When she finally straightens, having been dry heaving for several minutes, her mouth tastes like blood and the sick splattered in there doesn't look much better. Ahsoka turns to find the imprisoned Trandoshan glaring at her. "Enjoy the smell," she drawls before shuffling back out into the cockpit, relieved beyond words to find that the hyper jump is over. She's hunched over now, and her stomach isn't looking any better, but surprisingly she's not as woozy now that she's vomited. "I forgot to mention we have a prisoner in the back."

"Excellent," muses O-Mer, who's abandoned his seat and is bent over a feebly stirring Jinx. "Gave him a taste of his own medicine, did you?"

"Figured somebody would interrogate him while I get patched up."

Ahsoka glances out of the window: they're now steadily gliding through space, the sight of cartwheeling stars and distant planets as familiar to her as her own reflection. But that's not catches her eye, specifically. What catches is the collection of starships in the distance, an indistinguishable parade of Republican Venator-class Star Destroyers.

Relief sweeps Ahsoka, so overwhelming she feels like passing out for an entirely different reason. With a parade like that, they'll be more than equipped to put her in contact with the Jedi Council, with her Master. There might even be a Jedi General amongst that fleet, there to delegate between the Senate and the Jedi, as well as to command their own men. And if luck really is in their favour, then it might even be a Jedi Ahsoka is familiar with —

The transmitter chirps. "Identify yourself!"

Sharing a look with O-Mer and silently agreeing she's got the better chances if she's the one who responds, Ahsoka slides into the co-pilot's seat. "This is Commander Ahsoka Tano. With your Admiral's permission, we wish to board your ship so I can contact the Jedi Council as soon as possible —" she catches a stern look from O-Mer, "… and perhaps receive medical attention."

The transmitter is quiet for a long moment. Ahsoka can picture the clone whose charged with communications relaying the information to the upper ranks, a General or an Admiral, a brief exchange being made between him and his advisors, before they decide on a conclusion. It's an exchange she's witnessed, even interacted within, multiple times by this point.

"We'll send out an escort, Commander. We're expecting combat against a Separatist fleet any moment now. And our General is directly contacting Skywalker before he, uh, turns the whole galaxy inside out."

Ahsoka snorts at this, completely unsurprised. And yet. Yet it also helps ease that knot of anger and anxiety that has been sitting in her gut for days, when O-Mer had said that they'd waited so long for somebody to find them that they eventually lost track of the days itself. Sure, she'd had the advantage of being the Padawan of a very high esteemed Jedi Knight, and, at that, a notoriously stubborn Knight with a tendency to blatantly disregard whatever the Council had advised to him. But that still hadn't stopped her from fearing the worst.

She plugs the transmitter a final time. "My thanks. And we'll also need to borrow a spot in your imprisonment facility. I've brought somebody my Master will be very interested in personally interrogating."

The exchange is a dismissed matter. Ahsoka slumps in the seat, knowing O-Mer will require it if he needs to help Chewbacca co-pilot, but now she's seated comfortably the thought of moving makes her want to cry. She turns towards O-Mer to discuss this, seeing that a stirring Jinx is now upright, and they're both watching her cautiously.

"You're the Padawan of Anakin Skywalker?"

Ahsoka realises she unintentionally tucked that detail away from them. "I didn't mean to not tell you," she murmurs, now spying several clone aircraft gliding directly towards them. Without instruction, Chewbacca guns the engine and steadily glides it forwards them. She's sat beside her own master in the cockpit enough times to automatically hit the correct buttons. "I've had some experiences with younglings at the Temple going all starry-eyed when they find out who my Master is, so try not to do that to me. Just know he'll be more than up to the task of finding those other hunters and bringing them to justice."

Interacting this long has worn her out, and Ahsoka's more than grateful as the aircraft settles around them in an arrowhead formation around them, her mind wandering idly from the necessary strategies to find the other Trandoshan, to instead the morphine the med droids will hopefully issue her. She glances down at her stomach. The blood flow has eased from a steady stream to a slow ooze. Perk of Togrutans having a higher white blood cell count than humans, even if they're not capable of completely healing themselves from this degree of injury. The transmission buzzes again.

"We'll have to be quick, Commander. The Separatists are due any minute."

Chewbacca rumbles, up to the challenge, and together the ships plough steadily towards the appropriate cruiser. Noting her slumped shoulders and hanging head, O-Mer's hand is light on her shoulder. "It's all right, Ahsoka. You can pass out now."

Ahsoka nods, and the movement alone is enough to set off her head spinning again. She leans back into the chair and finally, indulgently, submits to her own subconsciousness. 

Ahsoka wakes in a hospital cot, which isn't anything new. Even with her eyes closed and most of her senses poorly functioning, she can still sense another sophisticated living being nearby in the Force, dominant and temperamental, the particular presence also not anything new. When she finally has enough strength to open her eyes and assess her surroundings, Anakin Skywalker is pacing before a window and looking like he'd like to punch the person responsible, which again, isn't anything new.

"Why'd you scare off the med droid, Master?"

He turns immediately, the stormy expression shifting to a perplexed one. "What makes you say that?"

"Well, the fact you look on the verge of throttling the nearest person would do the trick," Ahsoka says, hauling herself upright and delighting that it no longer makes her head spin. Still, her Master can't resist from smoothly crossing the room and assisting her stabilise in the seated position.

"I just spoke to our Trandoshan friend," Anakin responds evenly, stepping back and positioning himself at her side. "I'd like to see you walk out of an interaction like that in a good mood, Snips."

She disregards his second statement, her mind locking down on the first. How much information, exactly, had her Master acquired? "What did he tell you? When are we going to hunt down the rest of them? What happened to the others who were on the shuttle with me? Whose fleet are we even on? What's happened since I blacked out? Has the Council —"

"Slow down, Ahsoka," Anakin interjects. "You'll disrupt half the ship at the rate you're going."

Ahsoka blinks. Takes a deep breath.

"I have to admit," he says after a long moment. "This wasn't what I was expecting when I received the message my lost Padawan had been recovered."

She realises that at least a week has passed since she supposedly dropped off the face of Felucia, and the first thing she does upon seeing her Master is bombard him with questions. Typical of her, though she's certain Anakin would have expected nothing less of her. Her eyes lift to his and for the first time she notices how exhausted he looks. Her Master doesn't sleep much as it is; she can only imagine the extent of what mental knots he worked himself into whilst she was missing.

Wordlessly, Ahsoka pats the space on the mattress. Her Master considers this, his gaze more concerned than anything as it darts down to her stomach, before he carefully seats himself on the mattress beside her knees. "What exactly were you expecting, huh?"

He offers a crooked smile. "You to be conscious, for one. And definitely not in the company of a Wookiee and two Jedi younglings. That was … unexpected, for Master Windu and his men."

"We're with Master Windu's fleet?" Ahsoka asks, to which he nods.

"The Wookiee was offered a ride back to his home planet, and the Council wanted the younglings returned to Coruscant as soon as possible."

An indignant spike flares within Ahsoka, and she straightens further upright, her core muscles now cooperating without painful resistance. "But the Council knows we have to find the rest of those hunters, right? I know I'm not heading back — unless the lot of them are coming along for an extended visit to the Republic's justice system."

"It's not that simple," her Master says, and of course it isn't. "Think about it, Ahsoka. You've been out for two days. By now the rest of the hunt will have realised you managed to hijack one of their shuttles and escape. Since you're Jedi, that means you'll be coming back for a fight. They'll have scampered off to some corner of the galaxy until it all blows over."

"But that doesn't make that right!" The exclamation tears out of her. "Master, you can't tell me you're okay with that! They kill younglings for sport!"

"Ahsoka, I never said we weren't going to try."

At this, Ahsoka pauses.

Anakin offers her a grim smile. "Thanks to the information I got out of our Trandoshan friend, the Council's ordered a clone battalion to Wasskah to check out the rest of the islands for any other survivors. According to the captive, you were on Island Four out of a confirmed Seven."

Some of the anger deflates from her chest. "And what about the rest of the hunters? We can't just let them walk free, Master."

Anakin pushes up off her cot. "The Council has graciously assigned us one week to see what we can find, just the two of us and Artoo. Then we're needed back at the front lines."

She blinks, taken aback at this show of graciousness on the Council's behalf. Some days it seems they're against herself and her Master in every way possible, and other days, like this one, they're given the sort of treatment that could be easily interpreted as favouritism. "That's accommodating of them."

"And it's accommodation we can't afford to waste." Anakin says, as the door slides open and a medical droid shuffles in, scanning a final check over of her vitals and beginning to unplug her from the various machines. At some point she's been cleaned up, the grime from the island whisked from her skin and her filthy outfit replaced with a pristine Jedi-issued replica. Once the droid steps back and announces she's fit to reenter the field, Ahsoka is feeling a little more than enthusiastic to be swinging her legs off the cot and following her Master out of the room, finding themselves navigating the narrow corridors of the ship's infirmary. Despite that she's been given the all-clear, concern that lingers in Anakin's face, and his consideration even goes as far as the novelty of slowing down the pace of his much longer legs so she doesn't have to half jog to keep up.

"Oh, and by the way," Anakin says, fussing with his utility belt. A moment later he draws out his prize: a familiar pair of lightsabers sit in his palms, expectant, waiting. They are swiftly delivered to her own hands, and his gaze meets hers. "I'm glad you made it back, Snips. I'm proud of you."