Chapter Text
The trip back to Florrum was quiet.
Echo slept for most of it, and Fives was uncharacteristically silent as his brother rested and recovered. Ahsoka assumed the shock was catching up to him. It quite nearly overwhelmed her, too. Echo, the chips, the Chancellor...and Order 66.
Just the thought of it sent a chill through her bones, and the Force trembled.
Ahsoka still grappled with the scope of Palpatine’s and the Kaminoans’ treachery, but her talk with Fives had opened her eyes. She wasn’t the only one reeling, and the Jedi most certainly were not the only ones who would suffer. The clones already had, a thousand times over. She was ashamed of not acknowledging it sooner. The Jedi—her included—had stood by, fighting for a Republic whose army had never been given a choice. Leading that army. She wasn’t naive enough to believe that the Jedi Order could have single-handedly changed the Republic’s policies on the clone army, but they should have tried. They should have fought, instead of standing by.
Like they did with you.
She shook off the thought, sighing. Her situation didn’t hold a candle to the rest of their plethora of issues. She knew that. It still didn’t make the voice in her head go away.
Ahsoka stood from the pilot seat, walking down the hall to clear her thoughts. She, Fives, and Echo had debated next steps several times already. Echo was a staunch supporter of contacting Rex, and in his waking hours had been poring over levels upon levels of encryption to ensure they could speak in confidence. They weren’t taking any chances, not when the highest office of the Republic was involved. Even with the encryption, Ahsoka still worried. There were too many opportunities for everything to go wrong. Even the smallest mistake could reveal them, and she couldn’t help but be uncomfortably reminded of their mishap with Tali on Nal Hutta. If they had another such accident and it somehow got back to the Chancellor, all their work would be for nothing, and everyone Ahsoka knew and loved would suffer for it. What if he decided to carry out Order 66 then and there, or what if the Kaminoans were ordered to terminate all the clone cadets still on Kamino?
At some point Ahsoka realized she had walked to the cargo hold, and blinked. Echo stood in the center of the room, hitting the makeshift punching bag they’d found in a supply closet. She didn’t announce her entrance, but Echo startled, quickly pulling his hands back and whirling around. “Commander. Er, Ahsoka, sorry,” he said sheepishly, scratching the back of his head.
Ahsoka waved him off. “It’s fine.” She examined him more closely, namely the shaking hands he tried to hide by lacing them together. “Are you feeling alright?”
Echo smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Never better, sir.” He winced. “Sorry.”
“No need to apologize,” she replied, amused. “It’s an adjustment for me, too.”
The space between her and Echo felt fragile, like the slightest movement would disturb whatever lay between them. Ahsoka had known Echo well, but she’d never been as close with him as Rex, or Jesse, or Fives. He’d been too nervous around her, in the past.
The nervousness was still there, but less. It wasn’t his nerves that kept Ahsoka from continuing toward him, but the feeling in the Force of Echo himself. Now that he was awake, Ahsoka could tell that his Force signature was different than before. It concerned her a little. She knew that signatures could change under extreme trauma, but it felt like she’d returned to square one with Echo. She’d never had the effortless rapport that he and Fives had, and she found herself stumbling over this new territory, to her relative embarrassment.
Echo’s lopsided smile filled the empty silence between them, like he knew what she was thinking. “I...came here because I couldn’t sleep,” he offered. It was a lifeline, one that Ahsoka gladly grasped onto.
She stepped forward. “Nightmares?”
He laughed awkwardly. “Just extra energy. Been sleeping a lot lately.” A blatant lie, and they both knew it. Echo had been resting for most of the trip, but the hollow shadows beneath his eyes hadn’t faded at all.
Another step. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” she said softly. “But speaking the words lightens the burden.” Let me help you, she silently implored.
Echo shifted on his feet, clearly uncomfortable. “I, uh–”
“Coming out of hyperspace in ten minutes!” Fives’ voice over the intercom shattered that uncertain space between them. Ahsoka couldn’t help the swirling tide of disappointment in her stomach. Echo gave her an apologetic look before passing by her to make his way to the cockpit.
She stood in the empty cargo hold for a moment, staring at the still-swaying punching bag. Reaching out a hand to steady it, she tried to temper the helplessness rising in her throat.
When she walked into the cockpit, Fives had already told Echo the plan.
Echo massaged his temples, a movement that was quickly becoming habit for him, and one that reminded her far too much of Obi-Wan. “If you haven’t made an enemy of Hondo yet, you sure as hell will now.”
Echo’s blunt nature was new to her, and was taking getting used to, but Ahsoka still snorted. “He kidnapped me and tried to sell me to the highest bidder. We’ll call it even after this.”
Echo spluttered, making Fives chuckle. “That’s a story we both need to hear, brother.” Fives checked the chronometer. “Four minutes. Get ready.”
Ahsoka gave a sharp nod and ran out of the cockpit towards the hidden supply closet, working to disconnect the med droid from the ship’s systems. As she worked, she felt the jerk of the ship coming out of hyperspace. Her hands flew. Once done, she grabbed the droid and dragged it toward the exit ramp. She met Fives on the way, and he handed her the electrostaff in exchange for the med droid. Echo had taken her blaster, and it was holstered at his hip.
“Ready?” she asked. At their affirmative, she punched the open ramp button.
Alarms blared as the ramp lowered down mid-air, the ship still cutting through the lower atmosphere. The barren landscape of Florrum was laid out before them; in the distance, steep cliffs cut through the horizon like dull knives. They grew ever closer as the ship hurtled forward.
“Are we sure about this?” Echo yelled over the whipping wind.
“Not at all!” Fives shouted back. They shared a grin.
The ground was rising up to meet them; once it was close enough that the sand-and-salt dust filled Ahsoka’s nose, she jumped.
For a moment, there was nothing but a blank emptiness. Then the fall hit her gut, her stomach sinking. The wind screamed around her. She ignored it, closing her eyes and reaching out–
She grasped onto the Force, eyes snapping open as she pulled on it to lighten her fall. Her feet hit solid ground and she immediately tucked into a roll, pain screaming through her ankles as she forced herself to stand, quickly finding Fives and Echo in the air not too far in front of her. She stepped towards them, concentrating.
Fives and his accompanying med droid were the first to slow down, and he yelped as his freefall was abruptly cut short. Ahsoka strained to hold on to him and to catch Echo, who was approaching the ground with frightening velocity. She let out a grunt, outstretching her arm to slow, slow, slow down.
The Force complied at the last possible second, Echo hovering in the air mere feet from the ground. She tried to lower them both gently to the dirt, only somewhat succeeding. They hit the ground with an audible thud, clouds of burnt-orange dust emanating from their landing spots. Thankfully, the med droid didn’t look too damaged.
Ahsoka dashed the rest of the way to them. “Sorry,” she said, extending a hand towards Echo to help him up. He took it, groaning as he stood.
“Everytime I think I’m done with Force shenanigans,” Fives muttered darkly.
“Hey, this was your idea,” Ahsoka reminded him.
A silver saucer soared above them, jetting to the south, towards where their crewless ship still soldiered on in the air. Echo tracked the movement with watchful eyes.
“I’d say we have about three minutes before they land,” he said, turning back to scan the barren landscape and sheer cliffs they stood in front of. “Where to?”
Ahsoka allowed herself a feral grin, holding up a small grey remote. “Enjoy the show, boys.”
She clicked the button. Immediately, the ground began to rumble, rock tumbling from the cliff face as it began to open.
All of Ahsoka and Fives’ scouring of Hondo’s compound had done them some good: The remote they’d found in a safe in Hondo’s office perfectly fit the description Katooni had given Ahsoka of the device used to open a secret ship bay. Hondo had put it to use during his and the younglings’ escape from Grievous, and she would use it now.
Fives and Echo stared open-mouthed at the quickly-widening door into the mountain. Ahsoka, still grinning, sped off toward it, leaving them scrambling to follow.
As soon as they were inside, she clicked the remote again, and the door slid shut, lights flickering on inside.
Fives did a slow spin to take it all in, still rather comically carrying the med droid at his side. He let out a low whistle. “So this is where Hondo keeps his toys.”
The bay felt even larger than Ahsoka remembered, filled with ships of all colors, structures, and sizes. One was large enough that it cast a shadow over a third of the room. Another was bright yellow with red and black racing stripes, and completely open on both sides, which seemed questionable for space travel.
“Okay.” She clapped her hands together. “We need an inconspicuous ship, big enough that it can handle plenty of hyperspace jumps, small enough that the three of us can maintain it. Weapons wouldn’t hurt, either.”
Before she could even start searching, Echo’s voice emanated from about fifty yards away. “Over here!”
She and Fives exchanged a look of surprise, and made their way over.
Echo grinned, gesturing behind him. “Well?”
Ahsoka had to give Echo credit. The ship was large, with an almost-saucer structure like Hondo’s favored crafts, but without the conspicuous sheen. A cockpit and what she assumed was a weapons console jutted out from the main body of the ship. Dull gray, not too large, clear weapons capability.
“Perfect.” Fives spoke what she was thinking. “How the hell did you find it this fast?”
“Just one of my many talents,” Echo joked.
Fives rolled his eyes, clapping him gently on the shoulder and going to find the ramp mechanism.
A faint thrum went through the ground Ahsoka stood on. Then another, stronger.
“You might want to hurry that up!” she yelled to Fives.
“I have no idea how this ship is–”
The cavern walls shook as the cliff face split apart. Fives glanced over his shoulder, eyes widening. “Going faster now.”
Though she could not see the pirates entering, Ahsoka could hear their footsteps thundering on the concrete floor. She thought she heard Hondo yell something unintelligible.
“Set your blaster to stun,” she told Echo. “I’m not trying to make any more of an enemy out of Hondo than I have to.”
“Already done,” he said dryly. “But it seems only fair we kidnap his ship after he kidnapped our Jedi.”
The words planted something warm in Ahsoka’s chest. Behind her, Fives called out as the ramp lowered with a faint hiss. Ahsoka guarded Echo’s back as he clambered aboard, catching himself when his prosthetic leg didn’t quite bend in time with his other leg. She made a mental note to check it out once they were safe. Two pirates broke through the maze of ships and did a double take upon finding her there; she stunned the both of them with her staff, but not before one of them called out to the rest of the crew. Ahsoka bounded towards the ramp, and Echo must have signaled to Fives because as soon as her two feet were aboard, the ship lurched into the air. She grabbed one of the ramp hydraulics for balance, glimpsing Hondo below her as they rose.
“Now we’re even!” she shouted down to him.
She pulled herself inside the ship before she could hear his response, and Echo closed the ramp.
Fives collapsed across one of the benches of their new ship, sighing. Echo snickered at him, and he sent a rude hand gesture in return. “It’s hard work, saving the galaxy. Let a trooper rest.”
There was a glint in Echo’s eye that had been absent before when he responded. “Funny, I didn’t realize robbery was life-saving.”
“Is it really stealing if we steal it from a pirate who stole it from someone else?”
“I like to think of it as repurposing,” Ahsoka supplied from behind him. He lifted a hand in thanks.
Echo rolled his eyes at the both of them. A quiet chuckle sounded from Ahsoka, who seemed to be thrilled that Echo was no longer afraid to joke with her. “Does the ship have a name?” he asked.
“Didn’t find one when I dug through the console, or when I scanned for trackers,” she answered, shrugging.
Fives pushed himself into a sitting position and angled so that he could see the both of them. “Consider: we name it ‘tin can.’”
Echo let out an odd, wheezing laugh. “It’s not even made of tin. You could call it ‘durasteel can.’”
“Don’t entertain him,” Ahsoka groaned. “Tin can. Really? The ship is in near-perfect shape.”
“The name has nothing to do with the condition,” Fives argued. “I didn’t say ‘bucket of bolts.’” That prompted another laugh from Echo, which turned out to be contagious.
It was Ahsoka’s turn to roll her eyes. “Insufferable, the both of you.”
Maybe it was too much, because Fives knew “tin can” was not, in fact, that funny, but it was a miracle to be alive. The dominoes were together once more, even if Echo’s wheezing laugh and different sense of humor were new.
Once they’d recovered themselves, Echo was the one to bring up next steps. They’d reached a dead end with their old leads, having found nothing chip-related in the Separatist databases. Which, logically, meant it was time to ask for help.
Echo leaned forward, expression serious. “I’ve layered a hundred levels of encryption on this thing,” he said, indicating a comm device. “I think it’s time to contact Rex, if we’re ready.”
Fives nodded. “Agreed.” Two pair of eyes fastened on Ahsoka.
Fives could see the internal war behind Ahsoka’s eyes in the second of hesitation before she said yes. Echo grinned, and went off to make preparations, but Fives stayed in the common room. After Echo was gone, and it was clear Fives wasn’t going anywhere, Ahsoka sighed and visibly deflated. She sank down onto the bench beside him.
There was silence. Eventually, Fives spoke. “Rex will welcome you back, you know,” he said quietly.
Ahsoka closed her eyes for a beat too long. “I know. But Rex will have questions, and I don’t have answers.”
Fives set his hand on her shoulder in silent support, and Ahsoka leaned into it. Her voice was a whisper when she continued. “How can he forgive me for leaving, when–” she broke off.
When I can’t even forgive myself? The unspoken words hung like a shroud over the room.
“Ahsoka.” That made her startle. “In Rex’s mind, there’s nothing to forgive. You’re his—our—family. We don’t leave them behind, even when others do.”
Fives’ thoughts towards the Jedi had been less than warm lately. He knew Ahsoka’s feelings on the matter were much more complicated, but...family was supposed to stand by your side, not cast you out when it was politically convenient. Rex had stood by him, even amidst accusations of treason. Was it so much to ask that the people who’d watched Ahsoka grow from a wide-eyed child to a capable warrior do the same?
Ahsoka was oblivious to his musings, her nails slowly digging into her leggings. She swallowed. “But I left him behind. I left them both behind. At least with Anakin, I talked to him before I left, but Rex wasn’t even in the barracks when I went, and I couldn’t ask anyone where he was because that meant facing them, too, and then suddenly it was days later and I couldn’t have faced him after that, and–” she inhaled quickly, cutting herself off.
“Vod,” Fives said, the term slipping out all on its own. It made her startle again. “You were alone, in a situation you never should have had to be in. Of course you didn’t react perfectly.”
Ahsoka stood up, Fives’ hand sliding off her shoulder. She wrung her hands. “You should have seen Anakin’s expression when I walked away.” She began pacing, and it was like she’d forgotten Fives was in the room, because this was much more than he’d ever heard before about the day Ahsoka left. “It was like I was betraying him, specifically, even though I told him that it wasn’t about him. And I don’t know which is worse, the thought that Anakin might never forgive me, or that Rex will, even when I don’t deserve it! ”
She stopped dead in the middle of the room, seeming to have surprised even herself.
Fives pushed himself to his feet and moved to face her, setting both hands on her shoulders this time. Her montrals nearly reached his nose, now. It was an odd thought, and another reminder that this Ahsoka was not the Ahsoka he’d known back in the 501st. That Ahsoka had been real, too, but only part of the picture. A Commander had to be strong for their troops. And as much as Fives would still follow her into whatever came next, he also knew they should be on equal footing, now.
He knew her guilt had only grown after she’d heard all that happened in her absence, but he hadn’t realized it hit her this hard. And Fives would have words with Skywalker, General or not, if he was making this about himself.
“Listen. Everything that you went through, and everything that happened after you left—none of that was your fault, you hear me? You had no way of knowing what would happen to Tup, or to me. And even if you’d been there, there was nothing you could have done.” Ahsoka opened her mouth to interrupt, but Fives forged on. “There wasn’t. Hell, if you’d stayed with the Jedi, you couldn’t have rescued me from that warehouse.” She halted, blinking, and Fives celebrated that one small victory. “See? You’ve been holding on to all this guilt, but you never stopped and looked around.” Fives gestured to the ship around them. “This, me, Echo—none of it happens without you making the choice to walk away. You have to realize that there’s no blame to give. If this whole situation shows anything, it shows that you never left us. Why do you think Rex contacted you? He knew you’d come if we needed you.” He squeezed her shoulders for emphasis. “You might have left the frontlines, vod’ika, but you didn’t abandon us. All us clones know that. If the General doesn’t, well, he needs to get his head checked, and realize not everything is about him.” Ahsoka let out a choked, disbelieving laugh at that. Fives himself could barely believe he said it. But he continued, quieter now. “You made the best choices you could. And for as much as you think you don’t deserve forgiveness, we’ll be here with twice the resolve that you do. ”
Ahsoka let her forehead rest against the front of his shoulder for a moment, taking a deep breath. When she straightened, she smiled softly, though her eyes were still sad. “Thank you,” she said.
He smiled. “Anytime.”
They sat down together on the bench. Ahsoka stared down at the table, expression pensive. Fives hoped it meant she took his words to heart. By some unspoken agreement, they lingered there until Fives fell asleep.
Ahsoka stayed frozen on the bench, eyes trained on nothing, for a long while after Fives fell asleep. His words echoed through her mind.
There’s no blame to give.
What had she done to deserve that kind of loyalty? She glanced sidelong at Fives, still fast asleep with limbs strewn in seemingly uncomfortable positions. She’d known him for two years—a long time, but nothing compared to the nine or ten years he spent with his brothers on Kamino, or the thirteen years she spent with the Jedi. And yet, did the count of days or months or years really matter? Fives was just as much her family as the Jedi had been. Still were, in some distant corner of her heart. War had built and broken them together; Ahsoka could not imagine a life without her brothers by her side. She hadn’t wanted to abandon them when she left the Jedi. Every day she had fervently checked troop assignments and the rare battle reports that were available to the public. Every day she had wondered what troopers had died without an extra pair of lightsabers to protect them.
But she never went back.
If she was being truly honest with herself...she didn’t regret leaving the Jedi. That had been the right choice for her, and for them, to make them open their eyes. She did regret, however, not talking to her troopers. Just to explain.
Her last conversation with Anakin wasn’t something she was ready to break into, not yet. But Fives was right. She’d never planned on leaving the clones forever, and that all-consuming guilt was just holding her back from fighting for them now. Just as they’d always fought for her.
Fives shifted in his sleep, and Ahsoka looked over at him again. She still didn’t know what she’d done to deserve that loyalty, but she was going to live up to it.
When Fives woke up, Ahsoka was gone, replaced by Echo seated beside him.
“Hey,” he said, sitting up and rubbing his head.
Half of Echo’s mouth twitched up into a grin. “Hey.”
They sat in silence for a few moments, the only sound a dull thud as Echo kicked his heels against the base of the bench.
“I was-”
“What did-”
They both broke off, chuckling. Fives gestured for Echo to go first.
“What did you say to the Commander?” Echo asked. “She seems...quiet.”
Fives blew out a breath, debating how much to tell. “I told her to stop blaming herself for what happened to the 501st after she left. Me, Tup...she didn’t have control over any of that.” He paused.
“And?” Echo prompted.
Fives shrugged, but the movement was stiff. “And...I told her what I should have told Rex, after Umbara.”
He realized too late that he still hadn’t told Echo about Umbara, but found himself without the energy to do it now. Looking back, he’d been a fool. He’d spent days refusing to say a word to Rex, even as the haunted shadows below his Captain’s eyes grew ever darker. Fives had told himself that Rex deserved it. Now he was ashamed for ever thinking such a thing. Rex made the best choice out of bad options, and everything he’d done was to try and protect his men. Yes, Fives would have made different choices in Rex’s place, but that didn’t mean he should have blamed a brother for the cruelty of a General.
He didn’t idolize Rex the way he had as a shiny cadet back on a secluded moon. Not anymore. But they were brothers, and that meant standing together through it all.
Fives couldn’t help but be reminded once again that Ahsoka didn’t have that with her Jedi. But she still did, he was sure, with her brothers in the 501st.
Echo didn’t ask about Umbara, seeming to sense Fives’ unease. He simply nodded, pulling out a datapad and starting to tinker with some bit of complicated code.
Fives found himself pondering Ahsoka’s words about General Skywalker. He’d never really seen the man past the confident facade, save for those few hours after Tup lost it. Skywalker was unwaveringly loyal to those he cared about, but Fives knew that kind of devotion could hide blindspots. He doubted Skywalker would ever leave the Jedi, even when put in Ahsoka’s position. It wasn’t hard to believe that he might be angry at her for leaving, especially since Fives had started seeing less and less of him outside of battles once Ahsoka walked away. But he couldn’t imagine Skywalker staying angry if they saw each other again. He loved his former Padawan too much for that.
Either way, it wasn’t his place to blame or forgive the Jedi. That was Ahsoka’s choice, and he’d stand by whatever she decided. He was just grateful he had a family that stood by his side through it all, whether that was the 501st off fighting battles in distant systems, or this. Three soldiers against the galaxy.
Fives had spent so many days wishing to be back home with the 501st. And that was still home, but…
He watched Echo slowly begin to doze off beside him, letting out a quiet, wheezing snore. Ahsoka was likely in the cockpit, staring at the swirling blue as they jetted through hyperspace.
Fives had spent his entire life wishing to find a home in something new. First on Kamino, dreaming of graduating and joining the fight. Then on Rishi, hoping for reassignment. Then in the 501st, reaching for ARC.
He’d never stopped to think that maybe he’d been home all along.
He stood at the prow of his vessel, surveying the organized chaos of droids navigating deep space.
“Sir!”
He turned.
“I have the report you requested.”
His eyes flashed over the report before tucking the datapad into his cloak. “Stay the current course, Lieutenant.”
“Roger, roger.”
He left the bridge, brushing past the droid on his way. In fifteen minutes, it would have an unfortunate malfunction and shut down, taking any record of his hunt with it. He would be long gone by then.
He didn’t dare take the datapad out, having already committed its details to memory.
Tali Kayleeno.
Dooku allowed himself a rare smile as he exited the hangar in his personal ship.