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Anakin was injured. Ahsoka felt her own wounds, and knew they weren't life-threatening. She ought to leave him, crawl out of this ruined temple, find the remains of one of the ships the Inquisitors came here in, and fly herself to the nearest medical facility for a fortnight's vacation in a bacta tank. She ought to put her body together and set her mind at rest, knowing the final fate of her beloved master, and rejoin the fight against the monstrosity he'd created at Palpatine's side. She ought to take the intelligence she'd collected and use it to bring down the Empire.
But Anakin was injured, and she would not leave him. Not ever again.
He lay unconscious, the one eye she could see closed in what might have been sleep. Long ago, she'd watched him sleep as they'd camped, or shared quarters, or meditated together. Even in sleep, his eyes had danced under their lids, living as brilliantly in his dreams as he did during his waking hours. The eye was still. Whatever dreams he saw now, they took him far from this smoking ruin.
His suit sparked with damage. His breath drew in ragged gasps through the malfunctioning respirator. She gave a critical eye to the functions she could see, and with her own bruised hands, she opened the chest plate to peer inside.
"I can fix this," she said, knowing he couldn't hear. "I'll be back."
There would be a ship. The first Inquisitor had come for Maul, and the other two had followed. Anakin had come last in his own TIE, which she'd heard in her own half-waking state as it blasted away from them. The Phantom was long gone, and she was glad. Her friends would survive, no matter how deeply wounded. It wasn't a victory, but their lives made the defeat, and the knowledge they would assume she'd perished, less bitter on her tongue. She would find another ship, and in the fullness of time, perhaps she would find her way back to them, but that was no longer her priority.
Maul's ship lay as a scavenged wreck, further damaged by the explosion of the temple. He must have been living out of it for months or years while he remained stranded here alone. She read the smallest hints of his twisted personality: here the thin bedroll he'd slept in, there the angrily scratched runes of a name, a tacked-together heater for warmth. He'd gutted the parts he'd needed and left the rest. Ahsoka found the other gift he'd left for her in a set of vibrotools shoved into a side compartment.
She went to work.
The parts would suffice to repair the worst of the damage to the black life support suit. She sat beside Anakin, wanting to tell him everything she'd done since last they'd seen one another. She didn't trust herself to speak. She exchanged damaged circuits with a sure hand, remembering the same lessons he'd given her as a girl. Know where the power is flowing, she thought. Don't get between it and where it wants to go.
The respirator needed an internal repair. The only way she could get inside was to disconnect it.
Ahsoka stopped, watching him for a long time. His breathing, his life, was controlled by this broken device. If she turned it off for too long, he'd die. The part of her who'd spent the last sixteen years in exile fighting everything he'd done, that part knew her best choice was to allow the dying electronics to finish their work and rid the galaxy of him. She could let him die. The needs of the galaxy dictated to her that he should die.
Ahsoka ignored the voice in her head reminding her of every atrocity Darth Vader had committed. That didn't matter now. She was alone with a man who would die without her help. He had saved her life many times. The past must be taken as a whole, and on the whole, she would never stop loving the person he'd been.
"I'll go as fast as I can," she promised, and she turned off his life support.
The silence scared her. She refused to allow it to daunt her now, hurrying through the repairs, counting the minutes in the back of her mind. Brain damage would occur in six minutes, discounting any he'd already suffered from the great dent in his black helmet. Four minutes passed, and she wasn't done. Five sped by, and she had four more connections to make. She finished at six minutes and fifteen seconds, flipping on the power the instant she was done.
The machine whirred to life. "Breathe. Come on, Anakin. Breathe."
The respirator flowed but she couldn't feel any signs of life from the body. Desperate, she removed the huge helmet, stifling her gasp at his ruined face, and the fresh injury where flying debris had struck his head. His eyes were closed, and when she opened his lids to check for pupil response, nothing happened. The respirator breathed for him.
"Anakin?"
The head wound had clotted. Pulling away his mask had reopened it. He was a mess, and she'd killed him. A pained scream built in Ahsoka's throat.
He was bleeding.
Through tears, her hand went to the skin at his neck. The pulse was thready but there. He was badly injured. He might still die. But for the moment, he was alive. She pressed her forehead against his, mindless of everything else. Anakin was alive, and she was alive. That was all that mattered.
Maul's ship would never fly. She'd expected no more. It was the closest shelter she could find, though, and the heater still functioned. She used the bedroll to drag Anakin's heavy body through the rubble, bringing him to the cracked shell of the ship. Inside, they had a little warmth, and she found the remains of Maul's food stores tucked away from scavengers. It wasn't much, but it was better than the skittering rodents she'd have to hunt if they were stuck here for long.
"How do you eat?" she asked, but Anakin remained unconscious.
She assumed his suit provided some kind of nourishment. Her repairs, and his injuries, had altered the sleek black and elegant control panel into a half-wired gray mess. She poked at it now, and yes, there were replaceable syringes marked with nutrient doses. She guessed he had enough for a few days. After that, she'd have to find another way to feed him.
"You really are a pain in the neck, you know that?"
Ahsoka ate a short meal of Maul's food, swallowing the nearly spoiled meat with as little chewing as she could. A quick search found the cadged crumbs of a standard rations packet. She could crumble that into water for Anakin later and feed it to him as a broth after his injections were depleted, assuming they both lived that long.
Exhaustion claimed her, and the little comfort offered by the heater and Anakin's still form. She lay next to him and slept, bad dreams tormenting her.
Anakin's moan woke her. His voice, modulated by his suit, echoed with the voice of her nightmares. This was her friend, her master, and this was the Sith monster who'd murdered children. Her conscience told her she should have let him die, she should let him die now.
"Anakin?"
His eyes opened slowly. In the light of the heater, a yellow gleam lit them, but as her shadow crossed the path of the glowing golden hue, she saw nothing but blue. She touched his face.
"Ahsoka?" None of the malice he'd carried yesterday colored the word. His voice was deeper than it ought to be, and contained an ocean of confusion. Anakin twisted his head. "What's happened? I can't move!" His head turned again, his lips covered by the mask over his nose and mouth.
"Sh," she said, placing her hands at either side of his bald, scarred head. "Stop. You'll hurt yourself more."
His arms jerked up as though he had little control over them. The powerful servos controlling them shoved her aside with ease. His eyes widened further as he struggled to bring his hands to his face.
"Anakin, calm down." She stopped him from ripping away his own respirator. "Stop it!"
"Snips, what's going on?" Nothing but terror, and a dawning realization of how bad things were.
She reminded herself that this was Darth Vader. This man had hunted down the surviving Jedi after the rest had been betrayed and killed. This man had terrorized worlds. Yesterday he'd tried to kill her, too. She'd saved his life because she couldn't be herself and not try, but she must be cautious.
"Do you remember...." Ahsoka stopped herself. "What's the last thing you remember?"
The blue eyes blinked. The pupils still didn't react as a human's should. He said, "You and I and Obi-Wan were going to rendezvous with Rex. But we were stopped. There was a weird planet. Three people, the Father, the Son, the Daughter." He blinked again. "Did we escape?"
She swallowed. "You don't remember anything after Mortis?"
He looked at her, his gaze focusing, finally seeing her. The fear grew in his voice again. "Ahsoka, how long ago was that? You're not a kid now."
"And I haven't been for a long time. Mortis was a really long time ago."
"How long?"
She watched him, aching. She could feel his confusion, his worry, but more, she could feel the simple good she'd always sensed in his presence. Even on Mortis when he'd been consumed by darkness, the core of him had remained in the light. She had sensed Vader in the space battle and she had faced him in this temple, and there had been nothing of Anakin's light left, not that she could reach.
"Snips?"
"Eighteen years or so."
He lay back. "You've got to be kidding me."
"Hey," she said, turning his face with her hand, forcing him to look at her again. "Do I look like I'm kidding?"
"What happened to me?" The deep undertones in his voice modulator couldn't hide his sorrow.
She had heard only stories of Vader, nothing about his origins. Until she'd touched his mind back on the ship, with the fearful suspicion blooming inside her, she'd assumed the new Sith had been like Maul, quietly raised and groomed somewhere out of sight by Palpatine until the moment had arrived for his grisly debut.
She gave him the truth. "I wish I knew. I wish I'd been there."
"Where is Obi-Wan? He was with us."
"I haven't seen him in years. I think," she bit her lips in her old grief, "I think he must be dead. Almost everyone from the old days is gone."
"What happened?"
"A Sith Lord rose to power. He murdered all the Jedi and seized control of the galaxy. I survived because I walked away before it happened."
"How did I survive?"
"Before yesterday, I didn't even know for sure you were still alive. I thought you'd perished with the rest."
Anakin looked at his black-gloved hands, breathing loudly through his triangular mask. "Maybe I did." He turned his head to her, and even among the ruin of his features, she read a spark of hope and a touch of shame in his eyes, things she couldn't imagine from Darth Vader. "Ahsoka, do you know what happened to Senator Amidala?"
She knew enough, and more than that, she knew what he'd never told her. It hadn't been much of a secret, even then. Sometimes Jedi fell into more intimate situations than they ought, with each other or with others who were not Jedi. It happened to many, Master Obi-Wan had told her, and the usual outcome was a quiet break once maturity gave enough wisdom to know why the heart could not rule the mind. Anakin had been reckless, though, and full of his heart, and the rumor Ahsoka heard much later was that Padmé Amidala had died carrying a child whose father she'd never named.
Ahsoka would stick knives into her own skin before telling him that last part right now. Bad enough to tell him the rest.
"I'm so sorry, Anakin," she said, and watched his face set into a still coldness. Maybe this would be what returned his memories. She sat beside him and she waited to see if she must fight him.
"When I'm recovered," he said after a very long time. "I would like you to help me with something. You don't have to say yes."
"What is it?"
"I want us to find the Sith Lord who did this, and I want to end him, no matter what it takes." Ahsoka's shadow did not cover his eyes, and the heater's light was gold-yellow in his irises.
There were two ships in the ruins belonging to the fallen Inquisitors. Neither ship was in good shape. She chose the better one, which had brought the later pair, and used the other for parts. Work kept her busy and away from Anakin's questions.
She remained cautious around him. She said nothing of the Rebellion, nothing about Rex or her other friends. "The clones were all forcibly retired and sent away," she told him when he asked, and did not mention that she'd spoken with Rex only a few days ago. Her poor friend would believe she'd been killed. It ached to consider the pain this would cause him, but she had no better choice.
"I've traveled," she said, when Anakin asked what she'd been doing with her life. "The Empire stretches all over the galaxy, but I can stay ahead of the hunters."
"They're hunting the survivors? Then there must be more of us."
"I keep hoping. I haven't had much luck." The Empire knew about Kanan and his apprentice but she decided if she kept her silence, she wouldn't be tempted to offer up a detail that could betray them later should Anakin ever regain his memories. Besides, she barely remembered little Caleb from their time together at the Jedi Temple. Anakin may never have met him except as Vader. She didn't dare ask.
The repairs to the TIE Advanced took days. More than once, she reconsidered using the second ship instead. Both ships had rations and water aboard. Ahsoka supplemented her meals with what small game she could catch easily. Expending energy on hunting meant she needed more food, and she had to focus on getting them out of here. With some effort, they could move aside Anakin's life support to reach his mouth, allowing her to place crumb after crumb on his parched tongue before dripping water between his lips. His own arms were barely under his control, a psychological issue rather than a mechanical one. He couldn't yet walk with the legs his brain told him were new. He was as helpless as an infant, sleeping most of the time.
"Did you ever have kids?" he asked her as she finished feeding him, then wiped up the dribbled water from his face before it could form moisture sores under his mask. "With the Order gone, you could have done anything you wanted."
"I never settled anywhere long enough to think about getting married or starting a family." It was the truth, though as ever, not the complete truth.
"Not even now?"
"I'm very busy these days."
They took a moment to rest together when their meal was finished, leaning against each other companionably like in the old days. Ahsoka could not allow herself to think this was the return of the good times. All the deaths still lay between them, even if he didn't remember, and should those memories return, he'd slaughter her where she sat next to him.
"You haven't told me why we're here."
"What do you mean?"
He lifted an arm heavily, gesturing. "We're stranded. Outside the viewscreen, I can see rubble. We have a working comm system, but you haven't used it. This isn't your ship, and neither is the one you're repairing. But you've never told me why we came here, or what happened."
She remembered the pinpoint pricks of death as the Inquisitors died one by one, and the much closer pain she'd sensed in her friend when Maul had surprise-attacked Kanan. She remembered the cold growing in her veins, feeling Anakin's approach. She remembered the voice of the Sith Temple in her ears, and the heavy knowledge that they'd come to this place for nothing, and that she'd die here.
She settled for partial truth again. "I came here searching for you. I'd started to believe you'd survived. I was looking for clues. And here you are."
Anakin tried to look around. "I live here?"
"You came here when I did. I don't know where you were before."
"What about the people who owned these ships?"
"Three are dead. Maul stole your ship and fled."
He stared at her. "Maul? Darth Maul? He died on Naboo years ago. I was nine."
She considered telling him the long story, realized it didn't matter now, and she shrugged. "He came back, he killed the other three, and now he's got your ship. I don't intend to follow him. He's a troublemaker, but he's not my concern for the moment."
Her largest concern grew as her work on the TIE Advanced continued. She was sure she would succeed in making it spaceworthy. Anakin was right in that she had not used the comm to contact anyone. She had no idea who she'd contact or where she'd go once they did escape this dark prison. She didn't dare return to the Rebellion with him. She wouldn't think of taking him back to the Empire. They would have to flee somewhere safe. His dark helmet lay in the ruins outside, and without it, he was far less recognizable, but his voice was terrifying, and there were only so many changes she could make to his life support suit.
He needed more medical attention. She could use a visit to a medical droid herself.
She wondered where she could possibly take him.
Ahsoka was busy attaching a replacement piece of hull plating when a shadow fell over her. She spun, seeing the dark figure looming behind her, and instantly she lit her lightsabers, crouching and ready to spring.
Anakin stumbled back, almost falling as he grabbed onto the wing for support. "Whoa! Watch it, Snips!"
Her heart raced. His modulator sounded more like Vader, but Vader would never call her by that nickname. She doused the blades. "Sorry. You startled me."
"Obviously. I thought I'd come help."
"You should rest."
"So should you." Modulated or not, his concern came through. "You're not eating enough. You're injured. Neither of us is sleeping well. I'm afraid you'll overexert and put yourself in a coma."
"Hey, I'm not the one with the head injury." She turned back to her work. He settled beside her.
"You need to put it...."
"Like this. I know, Master." The word came out accidentally. She hadn't called him that in years. "You taught me everything I know about spaceship repair. I can do this."
"I know you can. Let me help. I hate sitting idle."
"Fine. That strut needs work." She handed him the vibrospanner. "You know what to do."
"Yes, ma'am."
Without his helmet and cloak, with his cocky attitude and ease with mechanical repair, she could tilt her head and see him as an Anakin who'd lived a different life. He'd been wounded in whatever cataclysm that had rendered him into this shell of himself, but perhaps he'd been rescued by some kind soul instead of the Emperor, or however he'd come into Palpatine's employ. He was a war hero, a survivor of the catastrophe that had killed their friends, not the beast who'd murdered them. If she tilted her head. If she let herself believe.
He helped her with the repairs, and he told her jokes over dinner. He avoided painful questions about their friends, seeing the grief she carried and processing his own fresh hurts. She wondered how much of his acceptance was honest, and how much came from his vague awareness of the truth.
"I'm glad you found me," he told her as they huddled together in the bedroll. "I don't think I've said thank you yet for finding me and saving my life."
"You don't have to thank me."
"I want to thank you. I have no idea what I did for you to turn out this well, so I can't take any credit for the brave, brilliant woman you've become. All I can do is be grateful you're here now."
It was corny, and so she knew he was Anakin, no head-tilting needed.
"You're welcome."
She woke alone. She'd nodded off beside him and now Anakin was gone. Ahsoka closed her eyes. She felt him back at the other ship. The temple ruins were chilly at this time of day. She brought the blanket with her, wrapping it around herself like a cloak.
The power was on inside the TIE.
"Anakin?"
As she came close to the open hatch, she heard something awful. Her stomach clenched, and her heart sank into her boots.
Vader said, "Kill the Jedi and his apprentice. Subdue Ahsoka Tano if she is with them, and bring her alive to me. She is mine to destroy. I will join you presently."
There was a long pause. "Kill the Jedi and his apprentice. Subdue Ahsoka Tano if she is with them, and bring her alive to me. She is mine to destroy. I will join you presently." Another pause. "Kill the Jedi and his apprentice."
He was watching the hologram of himself over and over, replaying the message.
"Anakin," she said. "Turn it off."
The hologram faded. He turned to her, eyes filled with horror. He didn't ask her what it was. He hadn't seen his own mask, nor the long black cloak, but the voice was unmistakable.
"What happened to me?" he asked her, and inside the question, he begged her to tell him this wasn't true.
"I don't know. I really don't. The last I heard from you was when I went to Mandalore at the end of the war, and after that, everyone was dead. I thought you were dead, not turned into this." She gestured at his broken body.
He grasped at his chest plate. "What is this? It keeps me alive, but this isn't living."
"I assume you were found and taken care of. I didn't see you for sixteen years."
"And when you did, I was trying to destroy you."
She could say no. She could say that was another, some dark twin Anakin had no memory of, one of dozens in matched black armor going forth to war. But she only told him partial truths, never lies.
"You gave the order."
"The Jedi and the apprentice? Were they the ones Maul killed?"
"No, they were my friends. They escaped. They probably think I was killed in the explosion. Everyone probably believes you and I are dead now." Instead of saddening her, she found the thought freeing.
"You haven't contacted them because you won't tell them I'm alive."
"They wouldn't understand. They don't know who you are."
He bowed his head. "And who is that?"
She approached him slowly. He'd been her teacher, and now he was her friend, wounded in body and mind, and she loved him. She wrapped her arms around him, covering him with their blanket. "You're Anakin Skywalker, and I will never let anyone separate us ever again."
"How can you look at me?" he asked her, squeezing her too tightly with his metal arms. "I've become some kind of monster."
"No," she said, and buried her face against his neck. "You had a nightmare, and you're finally waking up."
They used the forward cannon to blast out their exit. The rest of the ruin threatened to crumble around them, but he guided the ship out steadily and headed into Malachor's dull sky. Anakin sat in the pilot's chair as he always did. Their blanket had been fashioned into a makeshift cloak and hood to cover his scarred head and his terrible suit. She would find him a better one once they made planetside. Their destination was a small Outer Rim colony nearby where they could purchase the cloak and supplies. After that, they could go anywhere, as long as they were together.
Mortis, he'd suggested.
Away, she'd said, and it was all she wanted.
Anakin set the navicomputer and without a backward glance, sent them into the welcome blue of hyperspace. They might die tomorrow, but they would not die on Malachor, and they would be together as they faced whatever the future brought.
Behind them, in the ruins of the Sith Temple, the rodents skittered through the debris, heedless of the comings and goings. All that remained to show the pair of them had ever been there were a discarded cape and the crumpled remains of a black shape that might once have been a helmet crushed under a heavy boot.