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Chapter Text

“As you can see from the evidence presented before us, there is no doubt that the terrifying suspicions are true. The ship believed to have been used by Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker is in fact no longer a belief. The crashed ship contained only one life form. They have not yet found the body. It is with a heavy heart I report that the beloved ‘Hero With No Fear’ is in fact—”

Padme cut the screen before the reporter finished her sentence, knowing what she would have said, dreading the next few words which would spill out of her mouth. 

She wouldn’t let herself believe it though, she simply couldn't.

The holonews must be wrong—wouldn’t be the first time that they were—because the no way in the nine Correllian hells it was right, there was no plausible way.
There was no possible way her beloved was dead.

Her husband, the light of her life, the man who treated everyone equally, droids and clones alike, could not be dead. He simply couldn’t be. 

But she knew when Obi-wan had come to tell her, it had to be the truth.The words he spoke to console her didn’t convince so much as Obi-wan himself did.

He looked battered and bruised, and so utterly broken.

Like Anakin, her love, had been apart of him. Anakin had been his Padawan. Obi-Wan had practically raised him. His death was not something Obi-Wan could pretend didn't affect him. He couldn't meditate it away.

This was a wound that physically pained with every breath, because itshouldhavebeenmeIshould'vediednothimnothim was all he could think about. It was all that occupied his mind. 

She couldn’t blame him though. She also felt that way. Anakin was her soulmate, her other half. With him gone, she didn’t know how she was going to go on. But, she knew that if he was here, he’d want her to move on. To be happy, with or without him. she'd want her to live her life to the fullest. 

And she did want to know what had happened to him… Not just anything could kill her husband. Dooku, countless separatist leaders and who knows how many battle droids could attest to that.

So, in the end, that awful little part of her she buried deep within for a damn good reason, required that she find out how the 'Hero With No Fear' finally bit the bullet. 

“Obi-wan, what happened to him?” She asked, her curiosity eating away at her.

She hated herself for her need to know, but that was it.

She needed to know.

If she didn't find out, curiosity would slowly eat away at her, killing her from the inside out, leaving her as some sort of shell. 

He looked at her with a wary expression.
“I can not tell you that, Senator Amidala.” His usually stern voice whispered softly.

He shook his head, wishing away the memories of what had happened. Of how he, Ahsoka and Rex had been let go, scot free except for the trauma.

How when he reached out to Anakin he felt nothing. His former padawan and best friend’s force signature was just gone.
The memory of that feeling of loss was still fresh on his mind.

They had searched, interrogated, but they couldn't find him at all. 

At last, the had found singed robes, with his DNA found inside, in the form of a single piece of hair. They found the robes near a crashed ship, and the official cause of death had been the impact of the crash. 

Obi-Wan didn't want to believe it, but he had too. 

His Padawan was truly gone. 

Forever. 

The last time he had felt so helpless was when he watched from behind laser shields as his master had been killed before his very eyes. 

He had been so filled with rage, that he had felt the darkness call to him. He had felt the pull. He had been so over run by anger he had let it consume him completely. 

He couldn’t let that happen this time. Ahsoka needed him. Hell, he needed her. She was all he had left of Anakin. She was sassy and stubborn and just like him. 

The former queen shook her head in return.
She needed to know what happened. Didn’t he understand? This was her husband. Her husband. 

If he knew her at all, he would know saying no to telling her important information was not a good idea. It hardly ever was when someone disrespected her in such a way.
And Obi-Wan had just told her a big, fat no. And she didn’t accept that as an answer.

“Obi-Wan please, I need to know what happened. Please.” She pleaded, unshed tears brimming at her eyelashes.

She needed to know what happened to her Ani. He couldn’t just have died. If she knew her beloved, he must've went iut with a bang. A death bright and dtamatic just like he was.

Padmé felt tears form at the corner of her eyes, but she willed them away. She could not start crying now.

Obi-wan turned his head away, refusing to meet her gaze, as if knowing all he was going to see was pain in her typically soothing brown eyes.

“It was on our last mission,” He croaked at last.

Screw the mission, he thought. Senator Amidala was Anakin’s friend. She deserves to know what happened to him. She deserved the truth. 

Padmé gestured for him to keep going.
“We were compromised. Ahsoka, Rex, Anakin and I were captured by the Zygerrian slavers, because our covers were blown.” He choked on his words.

Did he have the strength to say the next ones? Could he relay what happened? Was he strong enough? 

“After a few days they let Ahsoka, Rex and I free, along with the people of Kiros. Anakin wasn’t with us. I tried to reach out to him in the force, but he wasn’t there, his Force presence just.. vanished. It was like it never even exsisted at all. We found a few pieces of evidence and a shirt with his DNA, but it was burned. Completely. He died, he's gone, and we were freed.” Obi-wan spat with vigor, a renewed fury uncoiling in his stomach.

Anakin, his apprentice was dead, his last moments on a planet filled with slavers. Obi-wan laughed bitterly at the irony. Anakin was never truly free. He was always a slave. First to Watto, then the Order, and finally the Zygerrians. Never free until death.

In fact people used to say a slave was never free until death, no matter if they were freed or not. The trauma always remained. The ever constant fear, the doubt, the paranoia. 

Padme clasped a hand over her mouth. Anakin was truly, truly dead. She hadn’t believed it. She hadn’t been able to. She hoped it was a horrible nightmare, or even some sick joke.

It couldn’t possibly be true, could it?
She hadn’t noticed the tears leaking down her face until Obi-wan had handed her a tissue. She hugged him and sobbed into his shoulder, not caring what he thought of her. She needed someone who would understand. She just needed someone, anyone. 

He felt the whip on his back before it made contact with his skin, the phantom pains of beatings long ago rising to the surface of his memory.

The pain of the lashing was well, painful, but it was worth it. Ahsoka, Obi-wan and Rex were safe, they were alive. 

They were back on Coruscant, out of the Queen’s filthy claws, relatively unharmed. That thought alone made him relax.

They were safe, he thought as the Zygerrian hit him again, his blood already flowing freely down his back.

They were safe, when the names he hadn't heard since Tatooine were the ones he was called. 

They were safe, he reminded himself each night when the Queen violated him, when he felt like he was betraying his Angel in the worst way. 

It didn't bother him though. He wouldn't let it.

The pain of beatings were not new to him, anyway.

The pain of humiliation was not new, either. Not new at all. 

They were safe, as he was paraded around like some sort of prize, his humiliation growing with each lashings he received, and each eye he caught. 

They were safe, as the Queen laughed in bemused delight and trailed her claw all over his face, careful not to damage her new toy.

That reassured him when she leaned over and purred, “You will be fun to play with my pet,” into his ear, promising him that his stay would be, in her own malicious words, fun.

He shuddered at her touch, recoling under her fingers. She merely hummed at his response to the contact. 

He will be fun to break. She laughed mirthlessly.

This was certainly going to be fun. 

They were safe, when he realized he was wearing force suppressing cuffs, it’s power separating him from the Force he had devoted his life to, and his already greatly missed friends.

He clung onto his memories fiercely, analyzing every last detail. 
And at last, they were safe, when he fell unconscious, finally, from the beatings.

The pain finally taking over his senses. The absolute physical agony taking him away from the Queen’s clutches, into the blissful ignorance of sleep. Into the arms of the Force. 

Until he was no longer on Zygerria, but somewhere else entirely. Somewhere free of the chains that bound him. 

Somewhere where he could hear his Angel’s beautiful laughter, see Ahsoka’s smile and feel his master’s comforting presence. Somewhere, he still had the force. 

With that vision, he knew he was right. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t free. That he wasn’t a Jedi anymore, or that he’d never see Ahsoka, Padme, Obi-wan or the 501st again.

He knew he made an extremely painful choice, not only for him, but for everyone. Eventually, they'd see he made the only choice. 

It didn’t matter that he was a slave, that he was a pawn on some Force forsaken planet, a pet to a cruel Queen, as long as they were all safe. As long as they were free. 

Chapter Text

She was so focused, she barely even noticed how unbearablely warm she truly was.

Ahsoka was pushing herself to her limits in this sparring match, her emerald lightsaber, and slightly yellow shoto clashing with the blue of Master Kenobi's.

She blocked, and parried, her sabers slashing through the air effortlessly. Her attacks were precise and she managed to almost win.

Almost. 

But Obi-Wan was still better, managing to block her with his perfect Soresu. They did not call him the master of Form III for nothing. Even if she tried her hardest, she couldn't manage to get past his defence. 

Their blades twirled around each other, clashing with the other blade.

Their sparring match was a mess of colours and lights, nearly blinding her. 

Ahsoka and Obi-wan danced around each other, their sabers bathing them in multi-coloured light.

Their duel seemed to go on for hours without end, neither Ahsoka or Obi-Wan showing signs of stopping or slowing down.  

Though soon enough, she grew tired. Her limbs became heavy and the room started to spin. She had trouble standing upright, swaying slightly. 

'This is always it, isn't it? You are too weak and useless to help anyone. That's why he's gone. Because you were a pathetic Padawan. PATHETIC!'  She mentally scolded herself over and over again.

She needed to be stronger. 

She felt her anger flare.

Her attacks became more aggressive, and Master Kenobi only defended them with more and more ease. It infuriated her to no end. 

Ahsoka struggled to keep up. Her actions became sluggish and her form was becoming mediocre, to say the least.  

Soon enough, her feet collapsed from underneath her and she fell right onto the ground.

She groaned. Why did this always happen? How had Skyguy lived like this?!

Master Kenobi was impossible to spar with. He was too good. He moved like his lightsaber was an extension of himself. 

It was that same Master Kenobi who helped her off the floor. 

"Good job today, Padawan." He complimented her, noting her abrupt change in behaviour. 

Although, he could just chalk that up to mood swings. She was a teenager after all. Obi-Wan has dealt with enough of them to know how these things work. Anakin was the defenition of a moody, hormonal teenager. If he could put up with Anakin, he could put up with anyone. 

He looked over his shoulder, prepared to say something witty to Anakin about his teenage years, but the words died on his tongue. 

Anakin wasn't there. He would never be there again. He would never watch Ahsoka spar, never see her knighted. He would never be promoted to the rank of Master. He would never be there for Obi-Wan to talk to. 

He was gone, and sometimes Obi-Wan had trouble remembering that. 

He had Ahsoka now. He needed to focus on her. 

But sometimes she was too much like him.

And Obi-wan didn't like to think about him, for it was only pain he felt. Pain at the loss of his former Padawan and best friend.

Pain he didn't let himself feel for the sake of the amazing girl in front of him.

Little did he know, she hated his act of complete indifference. 

She had learned to despise the image of the 'perfect Jedi,'. 

"Thank you, Master." She tried and succeeded at stopping a growl from escaping her lips at the word master.

She wasn't his Padawan.

And he certainly wasn't her master.

No matter how many times the council tried to correct her.

She only had one Master, and his name was Anakin Skywalker, and frankly it annoyed her that they all insisted otherwise. 

Sure, Obi-wan was a good enough Master, but he wasn't her Master.

Nobody, save for Master Kenobi himself, seemed to actually grasp that concept. No one seemed to care. 

It made her mad. More mad than she liked to admit it did, because she was a Jedi Padawan. She was supposed to be above things like anger, for they led to the dark side. But sometimes, it was so hard to not be angry, to not be sad, and she didn't know what to do about it. She tried releasing it into the Force, she really did, but it didn't help. 

"We'll have to work on your form, but overall that was very good Padawan," Obi-wan said to her, attempting to be friendly.

She nearly sneered at him before she reminded herself that it wasn't Obi-wan's fault that things were this way.

She actually did like him, she supposed. He was sassy, intelligent and kind. 

She just resented what he was a reminder of.

Him being her "honorary" Master as she liked to say, was just a reminder of how the council gave up on Skyguy. It's not like they ever liked him anyway, but for them to just give up on their so-called 'Chosen One?' Preposterous. 

It always made her furious. 

Although today, she just didn't have it in her, so she smiled at him. It was a fake smile, it didn't reach her eyes. Master Kenobi didn't seem to notice. 

"You're right Master," She paused. Obi-wan's face was the same but she could feel his surprise through the force at her words. 

She usually always disagreed with him, or made a snide comment. What was so different about today? Why was she so distraught?

There was nothing special about today. In fact, if there was anything remotely unique about today it was the fact that-

Then it hit him like a snowstorm on Hoth.

Two years ago today, he had lost his brother and she had lost hers.

He glanced at Ahsoka with a new understanding. He quickly did a assessment of the togruta, to make sure nothing was out if place.  No frowns, no sneers, no anger. 

She hated it. It looked too much like pity for her own taste. 

Obi-wan realized why his padawan had been so out of sorts.

Kriff, he would've been if he had remembered! 

But, he hadn't. 

"Ahsoka," he murmured his voice barely an audible whisper. She perked up. 

"Why don't we wait to continue training? You can go and take a meditative break, if you wish." 

Ahsoka blinked, not sure she had heard him right. 

He seemed to sense her confusion.

"It just seems right, cause well—" She put her hand up as if to cut him off. 

"Thank you." She ran up to him and did the last thing Obi-wan suspected.

She hugged him.

She never hugged him.

Kriff, she avoided any physical contact with him at seemingly all costs. She never hugged him. 

Obi-Wan felt a smile grace his lips. A real, genuine smile that hadn't been on his face for a long time.

After a few moments, Ahsoka pulled away from the embrace, a new objective on her mind: to go meditate; to clear her head of any unnecessary emotions she may have. 

  She needed a way to release, and Master Kenobi just gave her the chance to go do just that.

With a heavy heart, he watched her slip away, moving further and further, always slightly out of his reach. 

He had lost track of time after the first three months.

It had simply just been too difficult.

He had eventually come to realize that no one would ever come for him, and that he was alone in this.

That made keeping track all that much harder.

Because keeping track had given him hope, something that wouldn't help him as a slave. Something that definitely wouldn't help him as the Queen's, how did she put it, pet. 

After what seemed like forever here with the Queen, he had lost all sense of himself. Once, he lived free, now he lived for his Queen, doing whatever she demanded of him.

In the first few months he had denied her of what she truly wanted. At first he thought he could get away with it too. How foolish he had been.

Now he knew better.

You did not refuse the Queen. 

Queen Miraj Scintel was not patient, and he learned that the hard way, err, the painful way, she did not like the word no. She despised it.

At first he had screamed and fought even—now he accepted it as part of his service to her. To the beautiful Queen Miraj. 

Somewhere deep inside him, a voice was yelling at him to stop being so daft. He was a warrior, he had forgotten the official term long ago, he should feel revolted by her and her kind. 

He should try and fight back, that he had to fight for her, this woman he remembered but couldn't place. His heart always screamed at him to remember her, but he never could. 

He never struggled with Miraj and his memory of her for that matter. It was always fresh on his mind like newly fallen snow. Always at the firfront of his mind.

He could still feel her golden eyes raking him over like it had happened yesterday. Well maybe it happened yesterday. He didn't know. 

But he didn't ever fight back, not anymore. 

In fact, he tried his best in making sure to please her in every way possible.

At first he was disgusted with himself, he still is, but he had learned, freedom is a lie. We were all made to serve someone greater. The Queen just happened to be his someone. And he aimed to please.  

Right now, he was at her side, serving as her bodyguard, making sure no harm ever befell his Queen.

Because if something ever did happen to her, he didn't know what he would do. She was all he had left. 

She was the last person who stayed with him. 

"Anakin," she purred, beckoning him closer. He dragged his body closer to the Queen. She disgusted him, yet he was drawn to her.

Probably because she was the only one who had shown him affection or compassion or any sign of decency since he had landed on this Force forsaken planet known as Zygerria. 

She was talking to a man, human by the looks of it.

If Anakin had to guess, probably a bounty hunter. They were discussing merchandise, and if he had to guess, the merchandise were slaves.

True to the Queen's style. 

As for the bounty hunter, the Queen dealt with them occasionally, and this one definitely looked the part of 'full-time scum who barely scrape by', as she liked to say. 

"Can you show him the way out? I've grow bored of his antics." She proclaimed, innocently enough.

Anakin looked at the bounty hunter again. He was carrying quite a few blasters, and if Anakin provoked him enough, intimidated him enough, he would grow desperate, fearful, and defend himself, shooting the slave who tried to threaten him...

Anakin shook the thoughts from his head, distressed and disturbed with himself yet again, though this time for a different reason then he usually had.

"Gladly, milady." He responded automatically, noticing the Queen's assessment of him.  

At the sound of the slave's all-too-familiar voice, Evian Seri became slightly interested in him. 

The voice was so familiar, yet he couldn't place it, not off the top of his tongue. 

He surveyed the slave in question more closely.

He wore nothing special, the typical set of Zygerrian armour, which granted was a little strange for a slave to have, but that could mean a number of things.

It could always mean the Queen liked him, and it was obvious why she might possibly favour him.

The slave might be considered attractive by human standards.

Though Evian really didn't care about those things. 

His hair was a long mess of dirty blond curls, fairly clean for a slave, again another testament to the Queen's obvious favour of him. 

But it was his eyes that shook Evian. They were blue, which was not an uncommon eye colour amongst humans and humanoid species, but they were so familiar.

They were the eyes of the Galactic Republic's poster boy.

Evian shook his head in disbelief. 

That man had been dead for quite a few years. He was at a celebratory party for it! 

He was just going crazy. Insane. Cracking under pressure. Seeing things. 

There was no other explanation to what he saw before him. 

The slave grabbed him by the arm, his grip tightening and forcibly dragged him out of the throne room.

Evian would probably have a bruise in the morning. 

Evian couldn't help but notice one thing peculiar about the slave. 

The slave's right arm was a prosthetic, the metal set up in some gold skeletal formation. The arm was so familiar. Everyone knew the design.

It only confirmed his suspicions. 

Then he realized who the slave was, a second time, but this time he was completely certain. 

He was being held, bruised most likely, by a dead man, one who had been dead for two years nearing three. 

One who's death had been tremendously publicized. Painted as a great tragedy for the Republic. Millions upon millions had mourned his death, and Evian was standing right in front of him, metal limb and all. If his arm didn't hurt so much, he might've fainted. In fact, he might still faint anyway.     

This slave was 'The Hero With No Fear'. 

He was Anakin Skywalker. 

Chapter Text

On the veranda of 500 Republica, a woman looked longingly at the Coruscanti night sky. The cold air danced along her skin, sending shivers down her spine. Her hair was braided tightly against her scalp, putting pressure on the back of her head.

"Mistress Padmé, would you like anything?" Threepio, her protocol droid, asked in a shrill voice.

Senator Amidala shook her head.

She didn't want anything he could give her. She barely wanted anything anymore. Sadness came in small portions. Most days, she watched life pass her by, and leave her behind. She was unimportant in the face of the galaxy, barely worth a mention. Once, she might've shone, now she was as dim as one could get. Luckily, the Queen hadn't noticed anything last time they had met up. No one could know how broken she was. It had been quite some time since he left. She was different, yet she survived.

She lived her life by necessity, not wanting. It worked well for her. She didn't need to do anything but help her planet and the Republic. All her personal wants had died with him. Wasn't she pathetic? She couldn't get over her dead husband.

She sighed.

"I'm fine, Threepio." The droid moved along, finding something more interesting to attend to.

Padmé continued to stare off at the night sky, her plans for the next day swirling through her head.

The sky was a dark blue, almost the same shade of his eyes. She felt a pang in her heart.

'It won't do you any good to think about him,' she scolded herself. 'He's been gone for two years. Get a grip.'

Padmé continued to mindlessly brush her hair while humming some old Nubian lullaby she had long forgotten the lyrics to, the melody providing her with comfort that only childhood can provide.

"Mistress Padmé, you have an incoming call from a Padawan Tano," Threepio re-entered the room, momentarily startling Padmé out of her nostalgic trance.

"Patch her through," She replied, almost mindlessly.

No matter what she was doing, she always answered Ahsoka's calls. She loved spending time with the girl Anakin had loved like a sister. Who she adored and dotted on as a little sister.

Soon enough, a small image of the young togruta showed up. When Ahsoka saw Padmé her face lit up with barely contained joy.

"Senator Amidala," she said, Ahsoka's voice filled with delight at seeing her old friend. Padmé smiled. Ahsoka was always so vibrant and full of life. Which was something she needed to drag her out of her daze.

"Ahsoka," Padmé continued to smile widely at the young Jedi Padawan who reminded her so much of a little boy whose name was Anakin.

"Shouldn't you be training with Master Kenobi?" Padmé couldn't help but ask.

Again, that damn curiosity of hers wouldn't just leave it alone.

When Anakin was a Padawan he was always with his old master, trailing him like a lost puppy. She wondered why Ahsoka wasn't with hers.

"He let me take a break, because I was a little distracted," Ahsoka stared at her friend's little hologram, trying to decipher her emotions. Whether or not Padmé knew it, she was using her senator mask, which always hides her true emotions. A perfect poker face. Unbeknownst to Padmé, but she seemed to always wear her senator mask, never letting her just 'Padmé' face show. Never hinting at her true emotions.

"Why was that, Ahsoka?" Padmé raised an eyebrow at Ahsoka.

Ahsoka gasped. The senator's expression reminded her of Master Kenobi so much right now. The similarity was scary.

"Because well..today, is kinda, well," Ahsoka stuttered, struggling to get the words out. "You know..."

Padmé suddenly realized why Ahsoka had been distracted.

It had been two years and four hours since she had found out her Ani had died.

How could she forget? How could she forget the love of her life? How could she sit here, and do nothing? Did he really mean that little to her that she would forget his smile so easily? His laugh?

Padmé growled.

Ahsoka winced when she sensed the self-loathing steaming off the senator. She decided to step in.

"It's okay Senator. Master Kenobi forgot as well. I mean, you have a lot on your mind with the Senate and everything, and I suppose Skyguy's disappearance wouldn't be—"

"You mean death." Padmé corrected automatically.

Padmé regretted it as soon as it left her mouth because she knew how Ahsoka would react.

Ahsoka had this belief, dare she even say obsession, with Anakin's death.

She refused to believe he was dead, even though his Force presence disappeared and not even Master Yoda could feel him. The Grand Master of the entire Jedi Order. She did not believe in the evidence they found, suggesting he had been burned, he crashed, or something equally as brutal.

Ahsoka narrowed her eyes at Padmé.

Padmé was supposed to be Anakin's good friend! How could she say he was dead?

Then again, Obi-Wan was supposed to be his mentor, his Jedi Master, and he had given up once they found a singular strand of hair.

"Disappeared." Ahsoka grit out, her face still wearing a mask of calm.

"Ahsoka," Padmé sighed. "We both know I'm right."

"He's still alive, Senator! How can you even believe otherwise? How can you just give up on him?!" Ahsoka cried incredulously.

Padmé felt her own anger rising up, threatening to rear its ugly head.

"Because he is dead, Ahsoka! He is gone, and he's never coming back to us. To me," She sobbed.

Ahsoka pinched the bridge if her nose, a habit she had picked up from both her her Master and Master Kenobi, trying to calm herself down.

Getting angry would not help her at all.

Ahsoka narrowed her eyes at the Senator.

"You're wrong. You all are. He's out there. And you've all given up on him!"

And with that, the hologram of Padawan learner Ahsoka Tano disappeared, leaving Senator Amidala all alone to wallow in her self-pity.

His back hurt. More so than usual.

Although, he supposed that could happen when you were whipped relentlessly.

Just another perk of being enslaved to a tyrant and her absolutely horrible empire of lesser tyrants.

Today, he was a few feet behind his mistress, guarding her like he always did. He knew she didn't actually need him to be there, she was already heavily guarded, but she enjoyed having the great Anakin Skywalker on a leash.

The Queen was talking to some associate of hers, no one important or worth his full attention.

The Queen and the man were speaking of more 'cargo,' the man had brought for her.

The conversation between the two continued, and Anakin's mind wandered back to the bounty hunter from yesterday.

The man had recognized him, that much was clear. His face had gone pale when he saw Anakin's right arm. He looked like he'd seen a ghost, which was fairly strange, considering Anakin was very much still kicking.

Unfortunately.

But why did he react so shocked?

Well, Anakin mused. He was a famous general for the Republic, not to mention former Jedi Knight, who was now the Zygerrian Queen's personal plaything to use and dispose of.

That could be somewhat of a shock, but well... Nothing was impossible. Anakin prided himself on beating the odds, and making the impossible possible. 

Except escaping from this Hell.

He had learned that the hard way too.

Everytime he had tried, he had come closer and closer to finally being freed, only for the Queen to capture him again, and teach him a lesson through her favourite teaching method.

Torture.

Last time he had tried, it seemed to last for months.

It was infuriating.

'Fury, now that's something I haven't felt in a long time…' he mused to himself. Most days, he felt muted, numb. Life wasn't worth living if you didn't feel anything, but he wasn't really living, was he? He existed in a state of perpetual loneliness and heartache. 

Usually he felt hopeless, afraid and suppressed, so the anger was a refreshing change of pace. Passion used to be his game. It seemed like he was losing a lot, lately. 

"Anakin," The Queen purred, over pronouncing every syllable in his name, knowing it would drive him mad.

"Come closer," Anakin stood still, not wanting to go closer to his mistress, for that usually meant an intrusion of his privacy. But, he relented as he always did, every single time. There was no point in resisting anymore. His mistress had made sure to let him know as much.

She smiled when she noticed him walking over. How she enjoyed bringing the great Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker to his knees, for if she could break him, she could break anyone. No one was immune to her prowess. Not even Jedi.

The man she was attending tried to keep the conversation focused on him and his worries, but Miraj dismissed him.

He was boring her anyway with his talk about his slaves.

He really wasn't that interesting.

Anakin, oh he never bored her.

He was such an interesting specimen. Always changing, forever unpredictable. That drew her to him, and she knew she couldn't ever let him go.

That's why she had crashed a ship, and put a shirt with a strand of his hair in it.

She couldn't have any Jedi thinking he was alive and coming to reclaim what was rightfully hers.

She pulled him closer to her torso, her scent intoxicating him, making him feel disoriented, like spice would.

His senses flared, screaming danger! But he ignored them, fighting his instincts.

"I can't wait for later, my pet." She cooed into his ears. He shuddered at her words. He really, really didn't want to think about what would happen later in the day when the Queen decided to have some fun.

It was probably the worst thing about this whole situation.

Whenever it happened, he couldn't stop thinking about Her. He couldn't stop his mind from wandering to the woman who haunted his dreams. Who graced his most valued memories.

What would She think of him if She could see him?

For the first few months he had resisted as much as he could. Now, after what seemed like years, he just aimed to please. Cause if she was appeased, he wouldn't suffer.

He looked down at his feet. His shoes were worn, but at least he had them. Some of the slaves didn't have clean clothes, much less shoes.

He guessed he should feel grateful. He supposed he was.

"Oh come now, pet. I know you enjoy yourself too." She sighed.

Sometimes Anakin's self-pity was exasperating to have to put up with.

She treated him well for a slave and favoured him, and this is how he repaid her kindness? By spitting it back in her face?

Well, he needs to learn his place.

Soon enough, he will. When he does, he will stand by her side, willingly, and do whatever she says without question. He will be loyal, and he will return her compassion.

Until that day comes, she must break him in. Teach him how to behave.

The Jedi fed him lies about freedom, she was simply going to show him the painful truth.

She grabbed his face, pulling his focus onto her. She gripped his face with her claws a little too tight, drawing blood. He winced at the familiar taste of iron in his mouth.

She noticed his discomfort, and that only made her dig deeper into his flesh, reveling in his pain. He hated her claws, her voice. He hated everything about her. Some days, he wanted to strangle her, and watch the life slowly leave her. Others, he wanted mercy, and he wanted to be spared. He disgusted himself. His insides twisted everytime he obeyed, his mind screamed while he let her degrade him.

"You need to learn your place, my pet. I will make sure to teach you." She snarled, grabbing a fist full of his hair and yanking him even closer.

And judging by the tone of finality in her voice, he knew he would.

He knew he would learn his lesson.

And that scared him.

Chapter Text

After her little discussion with Senator Amidala, Ahsoka was exhausted. She could barely move her limbs, their heaviness making it feel like she was dragging weights around. Not to mention the massive migraine she had from the screaming match she had with her friend, the senator. 

She never liked getting into arguments with Senator Amidala. 

It always felt wrong and misplaced, like something that should've never happened in the first place. 

After every disagreement, Ahsoka could've sworn she could feel her Master's disappointment, that she could her his reprimand. 

"The Senator is only trying to help, Snips." Or something like that. He always came rushing to Senator Amidala's aid. 

But tonight Ahsoka just lost it when the senator corrected her, saying that Anakin was dead. 

How could Senator Amidala believe that bantha poodoo? Anakin loved her! Ahsoka thought that it might have actually been reciprocated. Apparently not. 

How could she just accept his 'death' as if absolutely nothing was amiss with that? As if he could actually have ceased living? 

Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker was just too stubborn to die. 

There was no way he died in a measly crash. He was too good a pilot for that to happen. The fact that some people actually believed he would die that way? Ridiculous. 

Ahsoka breathed in, then she breathed out. She needed to calm down. These conflicting emotions wouldn’t help her in the grand scheme of things. 

She just wanted to sleep. Make it all go away. She wanted to take comfort in luling unconsciousness, her senses and thoughts all washed away. 

She just wanted this awful day to be done, to be over with. 

Why did everyone keep insisting he was dead? 

She, without doubt, knew he wasn’t. The facts leading up to his death made no sense. 

Anakin would not leave them. Anakin would not die in a crash. 

They would've found his body. 

But it seemed like no one else believed her when she told them. 

They kept asking her how she knew he was ‘alive’ and Master Kenobi didn’t. 

"Master Kenobi has trained Skywalker for ten years, Padawan Tano. You've been apprenticed to him for only one. How would you be able to feel him if Master Kenobi cannot?"  Master Windu had asked her, eyebrows raised. 

How could she had a bond that strong, but the man who practically raised Skyguy didn’t? 

Master Kenobi may not admit it, but Ahsoka knew he didn't actually believe her Master was dead. He just lied to himself over and over again because the truth wasn't a nice one. 

If Anakin was still alive, he abandoned him, and Master Kenobi wouldn't be able to live with that. So, instead he tells himself Anakin is dead, gone, and that he didn't abandon him. 

Eventually he started to believe that lie, and so did Senator Amidala. 

Ahsoka didn't. She knew he was alive, somewhere, probably fighting to get back to them at the very moment. 

The Council didn't even want to listen to her, and Ahsoka suddenly knew how her Master always felt. They just didn't listen to her, they just didn't want to except they were wrong, and a Padawan was right.

They were too proud.

Every time she brought it up, they'd interrogate her.

She didn’t have their answers, which in turn made them trust her judgement even less. 

They would preach attachment at her, sometimes they'd subtly attack Master Kenobi as well.  

She sighed. 

Sometimes the Jedi were too close-minded for their own good. 

She didn’t realize she had just been sitting around for twenty minutes until Master Kenobi called her. 

“Ahsoka, I heard about your squabble with Senator Amidala,” Master Kenobi sighed, a disapproving look already etched onto his calm features. 

He remembered how distraught the senator had seemed when she told him about Ahsoka's erratic behaviour earlier this evening. 

(Obi-wan was meditating after Ahsoka had left, figuring he would meet up with her later at their apartment when Senator Amidala had called him. 

"Master Kenobi, Padawan Tano called me earlier and she was..." Padmé stopped, contemplating the best way to phrase this.

"Distressed." Obi-Wan frowned. Ahsoka was typically so in control of her emotions. Distressed just wasn't something he could see Ahsoka being. Ahsoka was collected, in control of her emotions. Distressed wasn't like her. Anakin? Maybe. The young man could get 'distressed' very easily. But Ahsoka? No. He'd seen her raised from the temple, brought up as one of their own. Every Jedi was at peace. 

"Distressed, how?" He asked his friend. Padmé tried to keep her emotions in check, but failed horribly. Her eyes were misty from tears, and her normally clear face blotchy. 

"Oh, Obi-Wan she hates me. I forgot it was the anniversary," she winced at the word. Anniversaries were meant to be happy times. Not times of sadness and despair. 

"And I, I snapped when she said disappeared and so corrected her, and I hurt her. We both know how hung up she is on her misplaced belief in him! He's dead and I pushed her away!" Padmé sobbed, unable to stop the flow of tears. "I pushed him away." 

Obi-wan stroked his beard deep in thought. 

"I'll talk to her, Senator. You have my word. Trust me, she'll come around." Padmé wiped her eyes on her sleeve and sniffled. 

"You will? Thank you, Master Kenobi.")

“You just need to know that she’s on your side, we all are. But Ahsoka,” Obi-wan paused, looking for the right way to put his next words without crushing her spirit completely. 

“You need to accept that Anakin—” Ahsoka cut the call there, not interested in one of the infamous Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi lectures her Master always complained on and on about. She had always teased him about his fear of them, but now, she understood all too well the dread that filled someone up when Master Kenobi was about to lecture them. 

She fumbled around the apartment she was in, the one she shared with Master Kenobi, looking for her sleep clothes. 

When she found them, she changed into them and made her way to her bed. She just wanted to sleep, let her worries fade away. 

She laid down on the mattress, her consciousness slowly fading away, leaving her to sleep peacefully. 

((She was in a room, one that looked so different, but yet so similar at the same time. The Force practically hummed in the room. There wasn’t anything in it except a small dresser and a very uncomfortable looking bed. The room was bare, to say the least. 

Sprawled out on the bed, there was a figure, a human male by the looks of it. His back was bloodied, tiny cuts skittered across his skin. She felt his misery, the pure agony radiating off of him. It felt like she had been there forever when he moved, propping himself up. She gasped when she saw his face. When she let her eyes see the familiar scar just above his right eye. 

It was covered in a few more cuts and bruises than she remembered, and he looked two years older, but it was him. 

This broken man in front of her was her Master. Her Skyguy. 

Albeit a little older and way more injured than she’s ever seen him, even during battles when they were seriously losing. 

He looked like pure bantha poodoo.

Even more so than when he had tried to sacrifice himself for her in some foolhardy stunt of his! 

She squealed with delight. He was alive! She knew she wasn’t crazy for her belief in him! Here was the proof. He was sitting right in front of her, breathing and very much not dead. 

Her delight subsided when she saw two more unknown figures come into the tiny room. They grabbed her Master’s arms, and threw him on the ground, smirking when he exclaimed on obvious pain. 

“This is what you get slave.” One of them whispered into Anakin’s ear, their hot breath trailing down his neck. 

Ahsoka watched in horror as they detached their whips from their belts, and turned them on, the energy from the whips creating a buzzing noise. 

"Let's see how much she will like you when I'm done with you," The man promised, his teeth barred in a smirk. 

Anakin laughed bitterly. 

"She wouldn't like it if you damaged her pet too much," he spat with as much venom as he could muster.

Ahsoka nearly smiled. That sounded so much like her snarky Master. 

The mystery man did not seem to like being spoken back to. 

"Don't speak back to me, slave, we both know she won't favor you forever. When she stops, I'll ask her to give you to me, so I can show you your place." He growled, his anger clearly rising. "I'll show you who's on top."

Slave?

SLAVE?

Skyguy is a SLAVE?

Anakin lifted his head up, his blue eyes staring intensely at the Zygerrian. 

"I look forward to it," Anakin spat. 

The Zygerrian snarled, and raised his hand to slap her Master's face. 

"Slave scum." He shook his head in disgust. He pushed Anakin onto the ground, making him kneel before him, Anakin's back towards him. 

Ahsoka cried out in terror when the whip made contact with her Master's skin. 

It was too hard to watch. She heard his muffled sobs, his pain filled cries, but she couldn't open her eyes. She couldn't bear to watch.))

Ahsoka awoke from her dream drenched in a cool sweat, panting and heaving. 

“Anakin.”

“Ahsoka.” Anakin woke from his dreamless sleep with one unspoken name on the tip of his tongue. 

Ahsoka, now that was a word he hadn’t heard in quite some time. His mind associated the name was a picture of a young togruta girl, but Anakin couldn’t remember if she had ever been real or not. These days, his memories of freedom seem fake. Like he had all but dreamed them up, willing the memories of his deepest desires for freedom to seem like reality. 

These days, he tries not to think of lives long past for it only causes him suffering. 

Best not to dwell on those things. 

He was sore from the lashings the Zygerrians had given him a few hours ago in this very room. Anakin probably shouldn't have aggravated them, but whenever someone acted jealous of her favour he wanted to hurl up his insides. 

As if catching her unwanted eye had been his fault. 

He sighed. There really was no point in arguing about this even if it was in his own head. It was his fault the Queen liked him, it was always his fault as he was constantly reminded—though this time he couldn’t pinpoint exactly why. 

When dawn finally approached, the Queen sent for him. Today she wanted him to supervise physical labour with the other slaves. Not that he was exactly opposed to being out of her sight per se, but he hated what she made him do when he supervised. 

He was taken down to the slave mines where he worked away. There were slaves of every kind down here. Togruta, human, twi’lek, some alien species he couldn't remember the name of. If you could think of it, it was probably down here. 

Anakin watched as the slaves dragged all kinds of materials towards the collection bins. He paid attention to the togrutas mostly, and one togruta in specific. She looked fairly young, around sixteen. 

Her heart faltered when he saw her. She looked so familiar, yet so different. She reminded him of the young togruta from his dream, Ahsoka, (his padawan), but he knew it wasn't her. 

She stopped moving the materials, her arms shaking with clear exhaustion. 

"You," A Zygerrian noticed her poor work ethic. He wasn't happy at all. 

"Why did you stop?" He snarled, already reaching for his electro whip. She saw the whip and stumbled backwards in fear, her eyes wide. 

"NO! NO! Please, no! No, no, no, no!!!" She cried hysterically, throwing her hands up in front of her face, instinctively trying to protect herself from the man. But it was of no use, the Zygerrian would hurt her anyway. 

Anakin felt himself slipping away in a memory triggered by the girl's cries of terror. 

(Anakin had sensed the danger to the Queen before the young twi'lek slave had drawn her knife. Still under the guise of Lars Quell, slaver loyal to the Queen, he grabbed her wrist stopping her from plunging the knife into the Zygerrian. 

"Unhand me!" She squealed struggling to get Anakin's grip off her. 

A young togruta watched the scene in complete terror, and her Master could only reflect that horror.  

"She requires further processing," The Queen sighed. The twi'lek's eyes widened like a child. 

"No, I won't go back there!" The twi'lek slave cried hysterically, defiantly even, just before she flung herself from the balcony, preferring her death to going back to the processing centre. 

Not that Anakin blamed her now that he had seen it, this place was terrible. 

But then Anakin had just watched in horror as the Queen dismissed it, as if someone killing themselves was of no consequence to her. Not important. 

Anakin had felt sick then, just as he feels sick now.)

He was brought back to the moment when the slaver sneered at the girl, and ignited his whip. 

"You'll be an example, slave." He purred in her ear, causing her to shudder violently. 

When the weapon made contact with her skin, the slave whimpered and cried. 

Anakin just stood there, and watched, trying to soak in the situation. He had been too late to help the twi'lek, but maybe he could help this togruta. This young girl who brought out some long buried feelings. 

He knew that he could do nothing to help the togruta. Yet, he felt a fierce desire to protect her with his life. 

He jumped in and grabbed the slaver's arm, effectively stopping him from lashing the girl again. 

The Zygerrian turned his scathing gaze to Anakin. 

"You will regret doing that," The Zygerrian paused for emphasis. "Slave."

The slaver spat at Anakin, his disdain vividly showing on his face. 

Anakin felt his stomach drop like it did every time someone called him a slave, or scum, or pet. He hated being told constantly how someone owned him. How someone was better than him. Power was a fickle thing; one moment, he had exceptional amounts of it, the next, he had none. 

The Zygerrian kicked Anakin in the stomach, and when Anakin doubled over in pain, he drew his whip towards him. The dull orange glow emanating from the whip alone sent shivers down his spine. Phantom pain lingered on his back, ever present. He could feel the electricity shocking him. He could feel it. 

The lashings were agonizing, with each hit overlaying on top of each other, but Anakin was glad for the beating. Because he wanted it to be him instead of the girl—who reminded him so much of a past life—being beaten. 

The girl started to stir, regaining strength and positioning herself upwards. She looked at Anakin with some unrecognizable emotion in her scared, green eyes. 

Anakin clenched his jaw, trying to keep himself from yelping from the pain of the gashes on his back. It seemed to go on for hours on end. Eventually the lust for pain in the Zygerrian's eyes dialed down a fair bit and he let Anakin go, clearly uninterested in continuing the brutal punishment. It wasn't fun when they didn't scream. 

Anakin collected himself enough to stand. His legs wobbled and shook from underneath him. 

The pain was still searing, and he was losing his grip on reality. Dark splotches covered his vision.  

"Just hold on, you're nearly done," he muttered to himself under his breath. "Just...don't give up yet..."

Some other slaves gave him weird glances while he talked to himself. 

'Not that weird that they're staring,' he thought to himself. 'You were just talking to yourself, and you need to get a grip Skywalker.' 

He trekked through the rows of slaves working away, not quite sure what he was looking for, just knowing he was searching for someone. He collapsed sometime after making it closer to where the mysterious girl from earlier was, being unknowingly drawn to her. Unknowingly drawn towards familiarity. 

Chapter Text

It had been five days since he had last spoken with his Padawan, and frankly, Obi-Wan was very worried. He could not lose another Padawan. One was enough. 

Was this how Qui-Gon felt when Xanatos fell to the dark side? Empty and alone? 

He sat on a cushion, squeezing his eyes shut in concentration. He let his mind wander, let the Force guide him towards the answers he was looking for. 

He opened his eyes wide in shock because there was NO way he was feeling this correctly. According to the Force, his Padawan, Ahsoka Tano, was standing right outside his door, with some other helpless sentient in her vicinity. 

He laughed. The Force really did not like him. First it took Anakin, now it played jokes on him?

Making him think his Padawan was outside his door?!

It was ridiculous—

"MASTER KENOBI!" The door creaked open and there she was, slightly roughed up, a tiny bit injured, but still there. 

In all her Ahsoka-y glory. He did not even notice the clearly kidnapped figure at her side, with a bag currently on his head. 

"Ahsoka?" He gasped, joy overtaking his senses. She smiled shyly at him. Obi-Wan quickly regained his composure, suddenly reminded of the fact his Padawan had been missing for five kriffing days.

"Where have you been?!" He shouted. She cringed at how incredulous and angry Master Kenobi sounded. She finally understood why her master hated his lectures so much. 

"That's not important—" Obi-Wan interrupted her with a very bitter laugh. Ahsoka was genuinely surprised at how sour he was being. 

Was he not happy to see her?

"Not important?" He breathed incredulously, his head shaking violently, rocking back and forth with each fit of laughter. 

"Not important? You see my young Padawan, I believe where my missing Padawan was is fairly important—"

Now it was Ahsoka's turn to scream in his face out of anger. 

"It really does not matter Master Kenobi. I found him," Her tone was light, and the room filled with a bright and bubbly feeling. 

"Who? Who did you find?" Obi-Wan asked, though he already knew the answer. 

Ahsoka's eyes narrowed. 

He did not know the answer? Really? She found that really hard to believe. 

"My master, Master Kenobi. Your former Padawan. Skyguy. I found him," She paused, deep in thought. Obi-Wan only stared more intensely.  

She can't be serious. 

"Well, actually it was this guy," she gestured to the sac-man beside her. 

"He saw him! He swears it! I promise!" She said giddily. Almost too giddy. 

Obi-Wan looked at her with new concern.

She really needed to give up her obsession with Anakin. He was dead. It was not healthy to obsess. 

"Ahsoka, please," Ahsoka cut him off. She yanked the bag off of the other figure's head. 

The wide eyed figure of a very cheap bounty hunter by the name of Evian Seri. 

"Um, can you please tell your psychotic apprentice to let me go?" He asked Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan looked at the life form Ahsoka had kidnapped. There was not anything special about him. He was a human male, not particularly threatening and his attire did not suggest any riches or good fortune. 

"Ahsoka," Obi-Wan said warily. He needed to talk to her about her attachment. Her obsession was borderline psychotic. 

Ahsoka tightened her grip on the bounty hunter. He snarled at her, baring his teeth. 

"You will tell him what you told me when I found you," She demanded. 

Evian shook his head, happy that his actions caused her such distress. 

"Ahsoka, how did you find this man?" Obi-Wan questioned, his unease growing. 

Ahsoka opened her mouth to speak, but found herself struggling to say the words. Did she actually want to tell Obi-Wan how she found him? Did she really? How would he react? She was not too proud about what had happened herself. It wasn't particularly Jedi like….

'After three days of endless searching, Ahsoka had found herself in a bar, trying to gather information out of drunken criminals. 

The bartender, watched over Ahsoka with interest, secretly making sure nothing would happen to the young girl. Of course, Ahsoka did not know that, nor did it matter. 

Ahsoka had been talking up some bounty hunter, some human who claimed to work for Jabba, for information.

"What do you know about the rumors surrounding Anakin Skywalker rising from the grave?" She asked him, after she had witnessed him down five very large, very strong drinks.

Just to be sure, of course. 

"The 'Hero With No Fear'? Oh he's definitely dead. The republic wouldn't be in so much of a twist if he wasn't. Although Evian would insist otherwise." He burped. Ahsoka felt her interest pique. This man was not lying, she could only sense honesty through the Force. Some bounty hunter did believe Skyguy was alive. Now, it was just a matter of who. 

"Oh really? Why does he say that?" She toyed with the drink she had ordered with her fake identification. She did not particularly want to consume any alcohol, it tasted way too bitter for her. In fact, sometimes she just found it straight up gross.

"Swears he saw the Jedi scum when he was on his last mission to some planet, smuggling slaves I think. Personally I think it's just a bunch of bull crap so people listen to the shit that comes out of his mouth and actually bother to hire him." The human male stopped talking—much to Ahsoka's dismay. The man's focus drifted away from the conversation towards a group of females in a corner. 

His eyes lingering on some twi'lek women in the corner. The twi'lek shifted uncomfortably under his unwavering gaze. Ahsoka felt sick at his display of lust. Could he not at least try to hide it? Just a bit?  

She swore that if she has not been wearing a disguise of a hardened bounty hunter with no qualms about killing disgusting pigs such as him, he might've been eying her too. Or maybe togrutas just did not fly his ship or whatever the saying was. 

"In fact, that's him over there." The drunk human pointed a lazy finger at another human male who had just entered the bar. 

"Evian! Come join us," The drunken male yelled at his comrade. Evian looked skittish and she could feel his uneasiness through the Force. 

Evian crept towards them closely, and Ahsoka noticed he was not outstanding or anything. He was not very attractive by human standards, nor was he ugly, but still. He also had very ratty clothes and a poorly stuck together blaster. He was truly a pitiful sight. Probably not someone who would have contact with a long dead Jedi general...

Ahsoka sighed. The drunk human was probably right. It was most likely just an attention grab. 

"Evian, this lady wants to know about your meet n' greet with the famed Jedi Knight." Drunk yelled. 

Yep, it was official. Ahsoka had dubbed him Drunk. Which given the circumstance, was a good choice for a name. After all what better name could ever be given to this sleemo? 

"I told you Brev," Evian spat.

Ahsoka blinked. So Drunk's name was Brev? How unfortunate for Brev. Drunk was a much better name. 

"I did see Knight Skywalker! I am not lying." He grit through his teeth, clearly upset at the accusation of falsehood. Interesting. 

Evian cursed himself inwardly for getting drunk when he returned from Zygerria. If only he had kept his mouth shut, none of this would have happened. He'd still have some credibility. Now everyone believes he's just some crazy bounty hunter trying to pull a con on everyone. People refused to hire him. 

"Of course, buddy. Of course," Brev mocked. 

"Where?" Ahsoka could not stop herself from asking, even if her obvious curiosity blew her cover. 

She yearned to know more.

"Why do you care? Evian is just lying to save his neck. Make a quick buck. Like he always—” Brev was cut short by Evian grabbing his throat and squeezing, effectively choking the light out of him. Brev struggled, but only slightly. The alcohol had already made him slightly incoherent. 

'He just is not a heavy drinker,' Ahsoka mused. 

"I. Am. Not. Lying." Evian let Brev go, and Brev fell to the floor, gasping for air. He seemed to lose interest in  Evian and Ahsoka and crawled across the sticky floor towards a few other people he knew. 

"You did not answer my question," Ahsoka said to Evian, unfazed by his temper tantrum. He glared at her, doing his best to intimidate her. 

Ahsoka was very unimpressed. 

"Why does it matter? Why do you care, huh?" He asked, bored. Ahsoka leaned forwards, clutching his shirt. 

"Just tell me, kay?" She smiled sweetly, though her words dripped with venom. 

Evian smirked a lopsided grin, with many missing teeth. 

"Not likely, sweetheart," Evian signaled the already weary bartender for a drink. 

Ahsoka watched the bartender make him some sort of beer. Then an idea struck. A malicious, un-jedi-like idea.

In fact, she could swear she heard Master Kenobi groan. 

Ahsoka waited until the bartender turned her back before she picked up the strongest liquors from behind the bar and outed them into his drink. Some of the drinks had to be extremely lethal for a human to consume. 

Oh well. 

She just hoped they were not the ones she picked to poison him with. 

Evian slowly opened his eyes to find himself in a dark room, tied up and under a scorching light. 

Not how he wanted to spend his evening, but oh well. 

He noticed a blob of mass in the back of the room, and he immediately recognized her as the togruta woman that scum Brev Sarei had been talking to. And the woman he had briefly had the pleasure of conversing with. 

"Look sweetheart—” He started. She came closer, her hand placed firmly on her hip. 

"Don't call me that. Now, let's talk about your last job, and Anakin Skywalker." 

He smirked a half-tooth grin. 

"What do you want to know, Sugar?" He asked innocently. 

Ahsoka grabbed one of her lightsabers and ignited it. She pointed it at his already sweat-covered neck. 

"Don't toy with me. Tell me everything about Knight Skywalker. Go." 

And so he did.

"It was a job transporting slaves, not something I like to do, but it was a job. Well paying too. When I brought the merchandise to the Zygerrian Queen-" Ahsoka gasped. Did he just say Zygerrian? As in the slave empire? The horrible race of slavers that kidnapped them and the people of Kiros all those years ago?  

Thinking back to it, it made a lot of sense as to why Anakin was there. That was their last mission together, and it was close to the planet where they had found the crashed ship he "got" on.

"-And he was there! She had as her personal bodyguard or attack dog, I'm not really sure how their relationship works. Kark, he even threw me out." 

Ahsoka was shocked. Anakin was alive. She knew it. She had seen it.

And he was on Zygerria, home of the slave empire.… 

"Oh, Master. What did you get yourself into this time?" 

"Huh?"

Ahsoka forgot Evian was there.

She decided knocking him out would be best.

After all, Master Kenobi and Senator Amidala wanted proof. And she was going to bring it to them, in the form of a sad little bounty hunter. 

But it did not matter how she got the information now. She had to do what she had to do.

And sometimes, that went against the code. 

"That's not important. What is, is the intel he told me." 

Obi-wan stood in his apartment, aghast with his Padawan, her actions finally registering. 

KIDNAPPING someone?! That was not something Ahsoka would normally do. At least he didn't think it was something she would normally do, right?

Ahsoka nudged Evian. 

He finally spoke up. 

"I'll tell you what I told her. I worked a job smuggling merchandise into Zygerria," Obi-Wan visibly paled at the name. 

"And I saw him. He threw me out of the Slaver Queen's throne room actually. It was quite rude. Now can I go?" 

Obi-Wan stared at Ahsoka, who nodded, as if she already sensed his disbelief. 

Obi-Wan had felt the honesty of the man in front of them, but he needed to be sure he heard correctly. 

Anakin? Alive? Zygerria? Slaver Queen? SLAVER QUEEN?!

That could only mean a handful of things, and they all made Obi-Wan's stomach churn. 

Why did Anakin have to go through that? Why?

"What are we going to do?" He asked, his voice small like a child's, his whole being still in shock. 

Ahsoka grinned at him. 

"I had hoped that had been obvious. We are going to go rescue him." 

Chapter Text

Anakin regained some consciousness once he realized that someone was poking his side. He could not fathom what possessed them to do so. Repeatedly. 

They were jabbing at his ribs, causing him lots of mild discomfort.

He opened his eyes, drinking in the dim light which brightened his surroundings.

He could barely make out a small figure hunched over his side. 

They must be the one who keeps poking me, Anakin thought. 

Anakin watched the figure with controlled interest, and the only physical attribute he could deduce at this point about them was they had montrals. He could not see any tell tale signs of their gender. He could not tell if they were male, female or neither at this point. And he knew not to assume. 

So, he focused on the parts that he could tell for sure.

Must be a togruta, the montrals definitely prove that. I seem to attract a lot of them lately, he thought jokingly, greatly amused by the notion.

His company these past few days had mostly consisted of togrutas, twi'leks and well, Zygerrians. 

The sentient did not seem like they were purposely annoying him, but rather checking to see if he was real, alive and not some figment of their presumably wild imagination. 

The constant contact made Anakin slightly uncomfortable.

But only slightly, so he continued to let them check on him. Though their unorthodox method of checking was starting to annoy him. 

The figure rammed their finger much harder than the previous times into Anakin’s side. Anakin let out a small groan from the feeling and utter discomfort. 

The figure jumped up in mild surprise when they heard him make a sound. 

They had thought he was unconscious. They would not have been touching him if they thought he was conscious. They knew how irritated people could get. They knew about certain consequences. 

Anakin took a clearer look at the figure’s face.

They looked familiar, painfully so. Their body language and facial markings practically screamed at him, but he still could not for life of him, put his finger on it.

He should remember them, but he can’t tell why. 

Then it hits him. Why the markings looked familiar, why the facial features had been recognized.

This was the same togruta female from earlier, the one he tried to help. The one he got whipped for. The one he was in pain for, and well the one he ended up unconscious for. 

Not that he was truly bitter about that little tidbit. 

He would gladly be whipped over and over again if it meant sparing someone else from the agony. He would bear any punishment if it helped others. 

The girl backed away from him, into a corner. She huddled into a ball, trying to protect herself from what she believed was going to happen next. 

Anakin positioned himself upwards, propping himself in a sitting position. 

He stood up, his legs wobbling underneath him, threatening to give out at any given moment. He held a hand out, trying to reach out for something — anything, to keep him steady. 

He made his way over to her hunched up figure, slowly. Afraid to scare her any more than she already was. 

She sniffled as he drew nearer, her quiet sobbs muffled.

"Why were you checking on me?" He said rather bluntly, but not too unkindly. He needed to get straight to the point. 

She turned her attention towards him, forgetting her crippling fear for just a second. 

"You helped me." She gulped, taking in a deep breath. He silently urged her to continue. 

"I just wanted to help you," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the cries of antagonizing misery from the other slaves. He felt confused, to say the least. It must have shown on his face, because the togruta gave him a pointed look. 

"You were passed out. You would have been punished had you been found. They don't like it when we take breaks" she murmured softly. 

Anakin was about to protest that passing out did not count as a break, but he decided against it. 

Anakin's eyes met hers. She stared with wide eyes, her gaze filled with quiet determination. 

"Uh, thank you, I guess," Anakin frowned. Was she being kind to him? Was this stranger being compassionate and caring to someone she didn't know with seemingly no ulterior motive? What was this madness?

He couldn't tell. It had been so long since he had even seen genuine compassion, let alone been on the receiving end of it. 

The girl started to unfurl herself. Started to relax her muscles and regain some composure. 

Anakin stilled, unsure of what to do. 

She stuck out her hand, inviting him to shake it, despite still feeling deathly afraid. Something just told her she could trust him. She decided to listen to the voice. 

"My name is Kaila." She smiled, nervously. She was trying to cordial, and it had been so long... 

Anakin's mind flashed back to the last time he had introduced himself in a situation like this, where he was a slave. Considered someone else's property.

It had been all those years ago, as a naive little boy in Watto's shop eager to impress the beautiful girl he just met with his knowledge. 

"Are you an angel?" He had said, hoping to impress her.

"What?" Her voice was very, very nice, he thought. Definitely worthy of an angel. 

"An angel. I've heard deep space pilots talk about them. They live on the moons of Iego, I think. They're the most beautiful creatures in the universe." He said. 

The girl just laughed, a light, breathy noise. He could listen to it all day it was so melodic. "You're a funny little boy. How do you know so much?" 

"I listen to all the traders and star pilots who come through here. I'm a pilot, you know, and someday I'm going to fly away from this place." 

She looked him over. "You're a pilot?"

He nodded. "Mmhm. All my life."

"How long have you been here?" She asked, curiosity colouring her voice. 

He paused. "Since I was very little, three I think. My Mom and I were sold to Watto by Gardulla the Hutt when she lost us betting on pod races."

The pretty girl frowned. "You're a slave?"

I am a person, and my name is—

"Anakin." He finished, grabbing her hand in a friendly shake. Squeezing it a little too hard. Nerves were definitely getting the best of him. Which was ridiculous. He had been a Jedi. Faced certain death almost every single day in the war and he was worried about how this stranger saw him? 

If Kaila noticed his internal struggle, she said nothing. She only smiled kindly. This smile was genuine, unlike the smirk the Queen usually wore around him.

He felt a smile grace his lips, one of pure bliss, a feeling he had not had the pleasure of feeling in quite some time. 

Anakin felt lighter with this stranger, and took delight in the apparent awkwardness of the two of them. 

The two of them sat there for what seemed for forever, before they were found and forced back to work. 

Anakin spent the rest of his time thinking about Kaila. She had been nice to him, and he to her. He felt some sort of kinship, a sense of belonging if you will, with the small togruta girl. She felt like a little sister to him, one he wanted to protect with his whole being. 

And he had just met her! What did that say about his mental stability? Clinging to some random girl he just met? He was losing it. Losing that last shred of sanity he had left. 

But at the same time, he knew he wasn't going insane. He knew this was right, even if it felt so wrong. 

So, he made a vow. He promised to himself that he would watch over Kaila, and try to make her life easier, because she reminded him of a feisty Padawan of his, someone he missed with all his heart. She was kind, and kindness was so easily squashed and killed in places like these, where your spirit was mutilated beyond repair. Broken down and destroyed until it was unrecognizable. It was what slavers did.  

Kaila was like his mother, who despite all her hardships, always helped others, always looked out for him and always kept true to her values, never once compromising her spirit. Always keeping her head up high, despite the chains she wore, both literally and figuratively. 

He vowed that he would never let anything extremely terrible happen to Kaila if he could prevent it.

Her hope needed to stay alive, because hope was the basis of freedom. And she deserved her freedom. Every slave here did. 

The day went by fast, and he was escorted back to his quarters, where he dared to let himself think of freedom. Of a life without chains. Of a life where he was not someone else's damn property. 

He collapsed onto the small bed, exhausted from the days work, and aching from the punishment intended for Kaila. 

He steadied his breathing, trying to achieve a feeling of equilibrium before he drifted off. 

He laid down on his stomach, his back still sore from earlier. 

He closed his eyes and imagined life at its full capacity. At it's full potential. 

He let himself dream of a life outside of chains, free of suffering. A life of light and love, where he could simply be. 

He let himself slip away into a dreamless sleep, the best rest he had gotten since he was put back into bondage. 

For the first time on Zygerria, he slept peacefully without a horrible nightmare haunting his mind. 

Chapter Text

“Okay, but how may I ask, are we going to accomplish that?” Obi-Wan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose trying to centre himself. This entire situation has just about frayed his nerves, making him the most uncoordinated he’s ever been in his entire life. It was not a nice feeling. 

‘How did Anakin live being so, unbalanced? It’s disconcerting.’ He thought incredulously.  

Ahsoka stared down at her feet, almost timidly. Shyly, even. If Ahsoka Tano could even be shy that is. She was way too self-confident for that. He had always admired that about her.   

“Well, I had not figured that part out yet, but,” She looked around the room, her embarrassment even more pronounced now that he could see her face. Her nose was scrunched up as she tried to think. 

Obi-Wan groaned inwardly. 

Ahsoka cursed herself for her lack of foresight. 

Why hadn’t she come up with a plan? 

Of course Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, a genius tactician and celebrated war general, would ask about a plan.

A non-existent plan. 

Ahsoka sighed. She kinda just made the assumption they would wing it. I mean didn’t they always wing it? Sure, they usually created a plan, but it’s not like they actually stuck to the plan. 

Even though Skyguy was not here, his influence on her was very prominent, to say the least. He had certainly left his mark. 

She just hoped that was a good thing.

“I’m sure we’ll be able to think of something. On the positive side, we know he’s alive. We have proof, and,” 

Obi-Wan really did not like how she exaggerated on the word ‘and’.

“All we need to do is find him, yell at him for staying there, hug him for being alive, and bring him home!” She proclaimed, her mind bursting at the seams with barely contained enthusiasm. Or was it excitement? Joy? Exhilaration? He could not tell. He was that disoriented.  

What was his Padawan doing to him?

“Ahsoka how are we even going to do all this?" Obi-Wan gave his Padawan a pointed look. Ahsoka could practically hear the agonizingly boring lecture he would give her now. 

She just shied away, giving him a sheepish smile that definitely did not look like her normal smirk. That could not be a good thing. Not at all. 

Obi-Wan raked his fingers through his hair. "Besides the point that there is a galaxy wide civil war happening," He glanced at the bounty hunter, still tied up by Ahsoka's side. Later, he was going to have to talk about that too. One does not simply kidnap random bounty hunters. It was very uncivilized. And certainly not befitting of a Jedi-to-be like Ahsoka. 

 "And that we are instrumental to the efforts to maintain some form of sanity, we can not go rushing into a highly dangerous situation on a highly dangerous, hostile planet!" Master Kenobi ran his fingers down the edge of his nose, trying to regain his equilibrium before he continued. That did not happen. 

"Yes, I know Master Kenobi, but we can't afford to wait any longer." Ahsoka spat back at the Jedi Master, her expression rabid like a predator preparing to pounce on its prey. Like an animal preparing to eat. 

“If you remember, Skyguy was also a general! He was also very important in the war! Or have you forgotten like everyone else?” She replied with a sneer. 

Obi-Wan frowned. She did have a point. Losing Anakin had really affected the war efforts in a negative way. The troop’s morals were at an all time low, and the separatists were winning almost every battle thrown at them. It

"Ahsoka that's where we lost him the first time! We can not just go back. We would be recognized instantly." He stated, the truth of his words momentarily stunning his Padawan learner. 

"And how do we know he's not a liar? Or deluded? Or both?" Obi-Wan glared at Evian, the Jedi's distrust coming off him in waves. 

Evian only snarled back. How dare the Jedi accuse him of lying when they kidnapped him?! 

"For the last time, I am not lying! What I possibly gain from lying?! Everyone already thinks I’ve lost it. There is no point in telling you anything but the truth." Evian snapped at the two holding his captive. Both Jedi looked at Evian with surprise written all over their faces. Normally, Obi-Wan hid his true feelings with high levels of skill, but today he was losing his touch, his usually iron grip on reality. Losing it in general, quite frankly. 

“There are plenty of valid reasons as to why a bounty hunter would lie. Do I really need to list them all?” Obi-Wan replied dryly. Evian snarled back, his teeth barring at the Jedi. 

“Can you two quit it? Master Kenobi, he may be completely insane, lying or both,” Evian opened his mouth to object, but Ahsoka slapped her hand over it. She continued on, full speed. 

“But he is our only lead to where Anakin is. We need him right now. So I’d rather you not irritate him beyond help, Master.” She reared her head towards Evian. 

“And you don’t need to be reminded as to how you got here, do you? Because I have no qualms about doing it again,” Obi-Wan lifted an eyebrow. How exactly had she gotten him here?

The bounty hunter seemed to understand through, because he simply hung his head in what seemed to be shame. 

“Understood?” 

Both Evian and Obi-Wan grumbled in some form of agreement. Ahsoka nodded her head, somewhat satisfied with their answer.

“Okay, now it's time to make a plan.” 

Today was going to be absolute hell. Anakin could already tell. 

The slave auction was today, and the Queen loved to drag her pet around with her. Usually he wore a very revealing costume, something similar to what a pleasure slave might’ve worn. The Queen loves to watch him squirm under the eyes of others. 

His discomfort or pain is like her drug. She gets high off of seeing him in some form of torture. 

He patiently waited in his quarters for someone to tell him what to do. 

He was greeted by two slaves, both twi’leks. He knew what was going to happen as soon as he saw what one of them was holding. 

It was a small mixture of fabrics, neatly folded and placed in the twi’lek’s hands. It was bedazzled, with accents of blue and gold. Anakin sighed, grabbing the clothing from the twi’lek, already accepting his fate. 

The two watched him expectedly, waiting for him to do something with the pile of clothes. 

 Anakin groaned. 

He did not want to change in front of them; privacy still mattered to him, no matter how little he actually got. 

He cleared his throat. 

“Uh, could you let me..” He trailed off, the awkwardness of the situation making his throat grow dry. 

The two of them nodded slowly in understanding. They quickly left the room, leaving Anakin to his own devices. Quickly he removed his tunic and placed the other clothes on himself. They were interesting to say the least. 

Anakin peered down at his form. The clothes covered barely anything. He had never felt so exposed in his life. 

He walked out of his quarters, and met up with the twi’leks. Today was going to be interesting, indeed. 

Miraj sat on her throne, waiting for her favourite pet to arrive, so she could head to the auction being held today. Miraj smirked at the thought of what outfit she had sent to her pet. It would be fun to watch him wear such a revealing garb. It would teach him his place.  

He was hers, and she could do whatever she wanted to him. He needed to understand that. He had no control. Only she did. 

Yet, Miraj had another reason to be excited to see him. 

She had quite a surprise planned for him. 

Yesterday, one of her associates had come to her with news about her plaything. He had shown her security footage of him with another slave, a female togruta to be exact. 

He had been nothing but warm and friendly with the girl, and she wanted to know why her pet had been acting in such a manner. 

Why was he showing his affection to some slave he just met? Hadn’t she been the one to give him everything? She had been very kind, very patient, understanding even, and he has only been cold and distant towards her and her affection. He was her property, he would do as she asked. And it wasn’t too much to ask for him to be caring towards her too, hmm? He is obviously capable of it. He proved that by doing it with a lowly slave. He was worth so much more than that togruta. 

No matter, she thought. He shall be reminded of his place today. 

The doors opened, and he stepped through. He was wearing what she had picked out today. It looked wonderful on him, in her opinion of course. She reveled in seeing him brought to his knees in such a way. He may have refused her affections, turned his nose up at them, but she still owned him. Mind, body and soul. This was just a way of reminding him that she owned his body. She owned him. He was hers, and he just needed to accept that. 

He walked over to her, a grimace clear on his face. 

She grinned at him. 

“We must leave now, my pet. We must not be late.” She said to him, gauging his reaction. 

He merely shrugged in response. He had done this dance too many times to forget the moves. 

Miraj glided towards the balcony that supervised the auction. It was time to start. 

Anakin sat by the Queen’s feet, on his knees, just how she liked. He watched as she announced the different types of slaves, their prices, conditions and more. Every time someone was sold, his heart broke. He felt broken every time they looked up at him, at the Queen and snarled, contempt written all over their faces. 

He saw twi’leks, humans, togrutas, every kind of species being sold. 

It wasn’t until they got to the pleasure slaves he got vaguely interested. One of the togrutas, one of the females, was familiar. It took him a few moments before he realized who it was. 

Kaila was down there. She was being sold. 

Anakin choked on his spit. She couldn’t be sold! She just couldn’t be. 

The Queen noticed his reaction and smiled. It was good that he learns what happens when he forgets who owns him. 

Kaila was wearing chains, and she wore something similar to what Anakin currently sported. She looked dead. Her youthful energy had all but vanished, replaced with something else. Something poisonous, eating away at her until she was nothing but obedient, all defiance sapped out of her.  

She glanced up at him with a hatred similar to what he felt for the Queen. 

Anakin watched helplessly as she was put on display, bid on, and finally sold to a male Zygerrian. Anakin felt unshed tears form in his eyes. 

The one good thing he had here, the one nice person he met, gone. Gone, ripped away from him like everyone else. 

He had wanted to free her. Wanted her to live to see her freedom.

Something inside him snapped. He stirred, grabbing the glass off of one of the server’s platters. He smashed it and grabbed a broken piece with his left hand, a cut already oozing with blood. He heard the guard’s cries of alarm, saw the Queen look up at him, surprise written across her face, but he proceeded to try and stab her. 

His arms were held back, but he thrashed and fought against them with every breath, refusing to give in. He wanted to help her, and if he couldn't help her, than he wanted it to end. 

The Queen strolled over to him, disappointment displayed on her face. She reached into her pocket, and grabbed a small device. 

“It appears you need to learn a lesson, my pet.” She sighed. She pressed the button on the device, and a shockwave rippled through his body from his collar. 

It burned every molecule in his body, making his muscles seize up and shake, breaking through every hope he had. He clawed at his neck, desperate to remove the collar, to stop the burninghurtpainagony coursing through him. 

He was panting when she deemed it appropriate to stop. 

She kneeled over him, grabbing a fistfull of his hair, pulling his face towards her. She let her thumb hover over the button, slightly caressing it before she pressed on it, hard. Anakin cried out in pain.

It burned. It hurt so so so bad. Please just make it stop. Please, please, please. Make it stop. MAKE IT STOP—

The Queen just laughed at him. 

“You should never have been cordial with her, my pet. You aren't to talk with the slaves. You are mine." She clutched his face with her claws, leaving faint claw marks. "You would do good to remember that. Next time, I won’t be so lenient. I won’t be so forgiving. That I can promise you." 

Chapter Text

Padmé Naberrie was completely different from Senator Amidala, or at least that's what Padmé believed to be true.

All her life, she had felt like people only saw Amidala when they looked at her. They saw a brave young senator who fought for her values. They only ever saw the former queen and senator; they never saw Padmé Naberrie. The only person who truly knew Padmé Naberrie had died on some whimsical mission for the Jedi, and with his death Padmé Naberrie went on vacation with only Senator Amidala left to take her place. 

So, Senator Amidala was the one who looked out towards the clear Coruscanti sky, letting the cool, crisp wind blow lightly on her face. 

Some nights it was the only thing she found comfort in. For when she stared into that darkness barely illuminated by stars, she imagined every world she was helping. She remembered every promise she had made.

She was given a sense of purpose, something of which she had been on a short supply of since his death.  

The senator sighed.

Reminiscing about better times was not going to help her or the billions of sentients affected by the war. It was going to bring those better times back. 

Padmé was completely exhausted, there was no point in sugar coating it. This war had taken everything from her. It took her time, it took her friends, it took her husband, and it took her happiness.  It was only a matter of time before it took her life. 

She was trying to get a bill passed in the senate, one that would surely help the war effort. 

She sat at her desk, mindlessly working on one of her many projects. She sat there transfixed, typing for what seemed to be forever. 

Padmé reached into her pocket once she felt a familiar ding. She let her fingers hover over the transmitter for a brief second before she accepted the call. 

"I hope you have a good reason for calling me at this hour," She responded, slightly agitated. 

She did not have time for frivolous tasks anymore. Unfortunately for everyone, she did still have work to do. She couldn't go answering every single call, she couldn't do everything. They were other senators out there who were more than qualified to help people. Once, she would've jumped for joy at the opportunity to assist someone, but now she just wanted to sleep. 

"I assure you Senator Amidala, I do." Came the static, slightly sarcastic, heavily accented response of General Kenobi. 

Jedi General Obi-Wan Kenobi called me? Padmé thought, her mind trying to process it. He better have a good reason. 

Obi-Wan calling her was unusual. Typically it was the other way around. Usually when she was crying on her bathroom floor, completely out of it, hysterical, begging him to tell her where Anakin was. Sometimes, it was when she was tipsy, and  He always took her calls with grace, and the last time she had done that had been little over eight months ago. She was getting better, she hadn't had an incident for a while now. She was strong; she would pull through this with grace. 

Padmé Amidala would not let this crush her; no, she would crush it. 

Obi-Wan calling her was a surprise to be sure, but a welcome one at that. 

"Master Kenobi, it's a delight to hear from you, but may I ask why you commed me so late?" Padmé asked. She guessed it was about a minute before he responded. 

Then again, time always seemed to slow when she was around any Jedi.

Well, almost any Jedi. There used to be one who blazed brightly through life. 

"We have an...urgent situation at the temple in which we may require your aid for," He said slowly, carefully. Padmé noted with interest he said we as opposed to I. She momentarily wondered if Ahsoka was the other person whom he referred to. She had not seen the young togruta in quite some time, and they had not parted on the best of terms…

"And what may I ask, Master Kenobi, is that urgent task?" She questioned. 

It's not that she didn't want to go help them per se, it was more like 'I have a really important bill I need to get passed in the Senate and you're kind of interrupting my very important work'

"Um, I will inform you of that when you get here Senator, and uh, make sure to wait for me outside of the temple."

Padmé blinked. Obi-Wan's voice had been uncharacteristically high. 

Did Obi-Wan Kenobi actually sound nervous?

Padmé sighed at the ridiculous notion. The famed negotiator would not feel anxious about some random meeting with an old friend. 

Would he?

 "I will be there soon Master Jedi. Please don't do anything reckless whilst you wait for my arrival," She clicked the button to hang up, sequentially packing up her stuff up so she could finally leave. 

The temple was exactly as Padmé remembered it. It still stood with an air of dignity and respect. It still made Padmé only slightly uncomfortable. She waited around the entrance for Master Kenobi and whomever he was with. 

It seemed she stood there for hours on end, when really it was only a few minutes before he showed up. 

He looked more or less the same since she last saw him. 

He had more pronounced bags under his eyes and his hair seemed slightly more gray than it had been about a week. 

'Ahsoka must really be stressing him out,’ Padmé chuckled. 

Obi-Wan raised his eyebrow at her, unsure of what she found to be so funny.  

“So, Master Jedi, why do you so vehemently require my assistance?” Padmé deadpanned, giving Obi-Wan a very disapproving look. One she used to only save for Anakin when he tried to pull a fast one. 

Obi-Wan paled at that, which was very hard, considering he was already deathly pale to begin with. 

He cleared his throat, trying to dispel the awkwardness he caused. 

“Well Senator, I’m not the reason you’re here. It’s a certain Padawan of mine, someone of whom you are acquaintances with. However, I do need you to swear secrecy,” He gulped.

His face turned red, and Padmé’s interest was really starting to pique. Not many things flustered the great Negotiator. Ahsoka had definitely earned Padmé’s everlasting respect. 

Padmé raised an eyebrow at the respected Jedi. 

Swearing herself to secrecy? What the kriff was so important?

“Fine, I swear myself to secrecy. Now seriously, what is so important?” Padmé lost all her humor, and replaced it with seriousness. 

Obi-Wan sighed. 

“You’ll have to see yourself.” 

Padmé looked at him, confusion written all over her features. 

Obi-Wan walked closer to her, putting his hands close to her temples. Before Padmé could demand to know what was happening, he suggested one word. 

“Rest.”

When Padmé finally regained most of her senses, she was furious.

Master Kenobi did not have the right to use a force suggestion on her. It was a complete breach of her privacy, not to mention a gross slight against her. 

What made this ordeal worse was the fact it had worked. 

Padmé always knew she was strong-willed—you didn’t survive in intergalactic politics if you weren’t—so a mind trick shouldn’t have worked on her. Yet, she hadn’t ever heard someone use one with such conviction before.

Then again, Anakin was the only Jedi she spent abnormal amounts of time with, and he hated mind tricks. Something about taking away a sentient's free will didn't quite sit well with him. 

It didn't sit well with her, either. 

“You didn’t have to knock her out!” Came the eerily shrill voice of Ahsoka Tano.

Padmé perked up when she heard the young Padawan. She would have been so relieved to know Ahsoka had somewhat forgiven her.

Well, at least enough to be in the same room as her with making a crude comment about her. 

That relief was quickly overshadowed by irritation at Obi-Wan. He used a mind trick on her. A kriffing mind trick on her. One that should not have worked!

“I panicked! She was asking too many questions that I could not answer, and well can you blame me? This is my first time kidnapping someone like this!” Obi-Wan huffed. He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to regain some sanity. 

Padmé stared at the duo in disbelief. 

Wait, did I hear him right? KIDNAPPING?! Who did they kidnap?! And WHY?!

“How was I supposed to know the proper protocol? I’m not a droid, Ahsoka,” Obi-Wan’s voice was unusually emotional. It weirded Padmé out, to say the least. 

Usually Anakin was the hormonal teenager of the group, and Ahsoka was a teenager.  

“She’s on our side, Master! We can’t just go knocking people out!” Ahsoka narrowed her eyes at him with annoyance. The other Jedi huffed in exasperation. 

“Fine. You’re right. I’m sorry. Can we please just get this over with?” He asked. 

Ahsoka shrugged indifferently. 

“You’re the one who thought we should involve her.” She looked down at Padmé for the first time since the Senator’s abrupt arrival. 

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to speak, but closed it almost immediately, rethinking his response. 

Padmé took this as an opportunity to speak. 

“Excuse me, but include me in what?” She asked sweetly, her words coated in venom she normally only used in the Senate. 

Both the Jedi turned their heads towards her in unison. 

Ahsoka looked at Obi-Wan with a clearly aggravated expression, and the Jedi Master just stared at his feet, timidly. 

If anyone had told Padmé that she would get to see the Great Negotiator like this, constantly, she would have laughed. Or called them delusional. Or maybe even both. 

“Well, Senator, we would have told you elsewhere,” Ahsoka shot her Master a deadly look. Obi-Wan looked back at her with an expression caught between shyness and defiance. 

“But, someone Force suggested you take a nap rather forcefully, so, we had to bring you here.” The togruta declared impatiently. 

Padmé looked around the room expectedly. 

Where exactly is here? 

“Now, we do actually have a reason to bring you here, Senator. If you’ll allow us to show you,” Obi-Wan reached out his hand to Padmé, and she hesitantly accepted it. 

He lifted her up, and she stabilized herself. Ahsoka motioned for Padmé to follow her, and Obi-Wan gave her a little nudge in the right direction. Padmé followed the Jedi out of the room she was kept in, and into another small, most likely storage room, that housed yet another unconscious person. 

At this point Padmé should probably stage a “You Need To Stop Kidnapping People Because It's Against The Law” intervention for the two of them.

This was getting out of hand. 

Ahsoka walked over to the figure and gave him a—what Padmé hoped was gentle—nudge. The person stirred, and looked up at the three of them. 

“Okay, Mr. Seri, we are going to need your full cooperation for this, and then I promise we will hold up our end of the deal.” Ahsoka smiled down at the man, who weakly nodded back. 

Honestly, Evian just wanted out of these psychos' lives. And as the lunatic girl said: "We need your full cooperation," why shouldn't he give it to them?

The two light sword wielding maniacs were probably high off something anyway. Evian knew how drugs can literally distort reality. 

“Okay, Master now it’s time we make the plan.” Obi-Wan nodded in conformation. 

Padmé just stared at them, completely lost as to what was going on. 

“I’m sorry, what plan?” Padmé questioned, cautiously. She really hoped that whatever plan this was, it did not include kidnapping any more people. 

Ahsoka smiled warmly at her, and winked like they were two besties with a fun little inside joke between them. 

“The one to rescue Skyguy of course!”

Chapter Text

After she recovered from the initial shock of that incredibly blunt statement, and after she protested so vehemently, (because it was completely crazy, how did this even happen), Padmé was relatively open to whatever ingenious scheme Ahsoka concocted. Now, she was feeling very skeptical about the whole thing. 

Anakin was dead, as in, he stopped breathing forever, heart stopped beating, took the eternal nap, kicked the bucket, etcetera. He had been for roughly two years, and now, two respected Jedi were losing their kriffing minds over it and abducting people, all in the name of saving a dead man. Obsession wasn't going to get them anywhere. 

My life is falling apart at the seams, and I don’t have a needle and thread to fix it. 

Padmé rubbed her temples.  Somedays, life was just way too ridiculous for her to handle. 

Padmé still couldn't wrap the idea of Ahsoka and Master Kenobi kidnapping people. It was too absurd, too far-fetched. 

She decided, based on her self-preservation instincts, that hearing them through wasn’t such a bad idea. After all, she had no clue what they were planning. She had no idea if it would get both of them killed. 

After she had lost Anakin, she didn’t think she could stand losing 

When she had relented and agreed, Ahsoka was overjoyed, and Obi-Wan looked at least a decade older. Padmé could've sworn she saw more grey in his beard than usual. 

That man is going to look ancient by the time Ahsoka is finally knighted. 

Padmé looked towards the other human in the room, and sighed. He did not look great at all. He looked sick, and well Padmé couldn’t blame him. 

Being kidnapped by Jedi Padawans was not a pleasant experience. 

Neither was being kidnapped by Jedi Masters, for that matter. 

Padmé turned her attention to the energetic Padawan, who was practically bursting with energy at this point. 

Padmé took a deep breath, and cleared her throat, loudly. 

“Alright, what’s the plan then?” 

Padmé was fairly impressed.

For the most part, the plan the two foolhardy Jedi had concocted was somewhat reasonable, and maybe even plausible. Padmé could tell they didn’t want to make mistakes. 

No, they couldn’t afford to make mistakes, not with someone's life on the line. Not with Anakin's. 

Their plan altogether was fairly simple. 

Evian, the man they kidnapped, would arrive under the pretense that he wanted to conduct more business with the Queen. Only this time, he would bring a disguised Ahsoka as his business partner, and a very heavily disguised Obi-Wan—or was it Padmé? —as the cargo. 

They would go to the auction, hopefully as the Queen’s guest. From there, they would search for Anakin if they hadn’t already found him. Padmé wasn’t sure where she fit in. She supposed she could go undercover as another bounty hunter or slave even, but it would probably be best for everyone involved, if she stayed behind on the ship, a quick escape if needed. 

Padmé couldn’t say she felt confident in this plan. She couldn’t even say she wasn’t terrified for the sanity of those around her.

When this wild goose chase was over, she was going to make sure both Ahsoka and her Master went to mind-healers. They needed it, desperately. It wasn't healthy just bottling things up and saving them for later. 

This strange, twisted hope they held onto was not healthy for them. Obi-Wan was the one who told her he was dead, he shouldn’t be creating off-handed schemes to save Anakin. Obi-Wan was the one who had gotten evidence. This was madness. 

Padmé had learned to live without Anakin. She had moved on with her life, because she knew that would be what he would have wanted. He would not have wanted her to lie in bed every morning, struggling to get up. He would want her to live, not survive. 

So, that’s what she had done. She had learned to enjoy life again. (She still cried herself to sleep every night, wallowing in self pity. If only the media could see her now, see how far the Mighty Senator Amidala has fallen.) 

These two clearly hadn’t. 

Here they were, abducting people, and creating schemes to infiltrate a highly hostile world filled to the brim with highly hostile slavers. 

Slavers, Padmé thought bitterly, were the absolute worst kind of being out there in the galaxy. 

And these two wanted to go to a plant full of them. A planet, that thrived off of the slave trade. This was madness. Insanity.  

Sometimes, Padmé wondered if Anakin was secretly the level-headed one of the trio. A scary, dark thought that never should've seen the light of day. A completely ridiculous notion, until now. 

Now, she was really seeing the negative affects the code’s no attachment rule had on a young, impressionable Padawan, mourning for her Master, and she did not like it one bit. It was a stupid rule really; Jedi are people too, and hence, they would have emotions like people. Suppressing emotions is clearly unhealthy, and pretending they don't even exist is not much better.  

Then there was Obi-Wan Kenobi, who was an enigma himself. 

Anakin always complained he was too strict with the code, explaining Obi-Wan would turn them over to the council no doubt, because “ he’s the council’s man, through and through,”. 

Somehow, that same Council’s man was kidnapping people, and dearly suffering from attachment. 

If only Ani could see him now. 

He would lose it. He'd probably laugh himself to death, which would have been a funny thought, if he was not actually dead.  

Frankly, Padmé was impressed she wasn’t doubling over with laughter from the sheer absurdity of this whole ordeal. 

Ahsoka and Obi-Wan watched her expectedly, waiting for her input, agreement or some form of acknowledgement. 

Whether or not I agree, they are going through with it. They clearly have lost it, any shred of sanity they had is gone. I need to go with them, to make sure no one gets hurt too badly.

Padmé shuddered. 

And if I don't help them, they could die, leaving me with one less person. 

Padmé stroked her chin, deep in thought.

I could turn them in to the Jedi Council, She paused. But they could get expelled, or split up. I don’t want to do that to them. They do not deserve that.    

Until she could safely get through to them, she was going to play along. 

Force knows she has to.

Ahsoka was feeling confident in their plan now that Padmé was onboard. The Nubian Senator had been a little skeptical at first, but she had eventually come around. 

Ahsoka didn’t know the exact extent of whatever had been going on between her Master and Senator Amidala, but she knew they cared for each other. 

Deeply. 

Naturally, the Senator would want to help as much as she could, and her help would be very useful. Invaluable, even. 

They had everything they needed. The bounty hunter(who Ahsoka will pay afterwards, she noticed the looks the Senator gave her), the disguises, and the plan. 

If this was successful, which it will be, they will have it confirmed as to where Anakin is. After they have his location, they will signal Master Kenobi. Best case scenario, they'll leave with her Master. She didn't want to ponder what would happen in the worst. 

(She didn't want to think about his dead eyes, once so full of fire. People changed, and sometimes, for the worse.) 

They were going to get her Master back. Nothing would keep her from it. Nothing at all. 

All that was left was the execution.  

Chapter Text

It was now or never. 

They waited two weeks until Ahsoka and Obi-Wan were called away for a mission. 

It was a simple mission, help track down an assassin who had killed a member of the nobility on some Outer-Rim planet. 

The mission hadn't taken long. When they found the suspected assassin, she confessed to everything, to the surprise and delight of the Jedi. 

Once they had finished the mission, they deliberately chose not to report back to the council, to buy themselves more time.  

In the ten days they had inducted the senator into their plans, they plotted out every single detail. They couldn't afford to make any mistakes. 

Not like last time. 

Since Ahsoka and Obi-Wan had already been slaves there, they would need different disguises. Their disguises last time had been fine, for a small, inconsequential mission. If only they hadn't used them to infiltrate a massive slave empire. It was foolish to think people wouldn't recognize their faces. Anakin Skywalker and Obi-Wan Kenobi, the Hero With No Fear and the Negotiator, the padawan and the master. They were everywhere; the holonet was practically in love with them. 

Ahsoka was to be disguised as an associate of Evian's, a bounty hunter who he had worked with before. 

Obi-Wan and Padmé were to wait on Evian's ship, ready to leave once they got the information they were looking for. 

The plan was to infiltrate the auction, as the Queen's guest and find out where they were keeping Anakin. 

If Obi-Wan had known which system he had been in when he and Rex were captured, they would check there, and free everyone. 

If Anakin wasn't there, and he was around the castle like Evian originally said, they would free him.

In all likelihood, the Queen had probably sold him to an associate of hers. They would sneak in under her nose and take him back. 

Evian said he was a bodyguard, correct? They can just dispose of the body. It's not like Skyguy would be any good at guarding it anyway.  Someone would probably steal it and bury it somewhere in the first five minutes, tops. 

In all seriousness, if it came down to it, Ahsoka would....deal with whatever scum he was guarding. No one would get in her way. 

No one. 

Unfortunately, Master Kenobi didn't remember whether or not that was what Evian had slurred, so here Ahsoka was. 

Stuck in an overheated scrap of metal they were passing off as her famous "armour", trying to decipher meaningless words from some random criminal, who has no credibility and was a known liar. 

She wanted to tear the thing off her skin, strip it piece by piece, but she controlled herself. 

She couldn't mess this up. Everyone was counting on her. Anakin was counting on her. 

So she sat in the ship, idly waiting for the ship to enter the Zygerrian atmosphere. 

As she walked over the the door, Master Kenobi stopped her. 

"Ahsoka, please be careful. I don't know what I'd do if I lost another Padawan." 

Ahsoka nodded in agreement. She would be careful. Extremely so.

Master Kenobi smiled, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. 

Once they reached Zygerria, her and Evian headed out. They had landed near the city, hidden by nature. After they had successfully exited the ship, the ship flew away, presumably to find somewhere safe to land. 

Ahsoka followed Evian as he weaved his way through crowds, heading towards the palace. 

"I forgot how much I hated this place," She growled as they passed the stands in the streets. 

Her voice was distorted from the specialized helmet she wore. It was deeper, distinctly masculine, and it was loud. Way louder than she normally would have been. 

"Trust me, it doesn't grow on you." Evian flicked something off his shoulder with disgust. 

Ahsoka shrugged her shoulders and continued onward, determined to complete their mission. 

The crowd in front of them stopped moving, and Ahsoka leaned in to see why. 

In the middle of the crowd, a young twi'lek boy, no older than ten, was on his knees. Ahsoka moved forward to help him up, but Evian held her back. 

"What are you doing?" She hissed. 

Evian pointed his head towards a figure heading closer to the centre. "Saving you and your friend's lives." 

A Zygerrian man came over to the boy, clearly dissatisfied. He grabbed something from his belt. 

"You need to learn your place, slave ." He snarled. 

The boy only whimpered in response. 

Ahsoka felt her heart sink when he turned it on. She recognized the weapon, and she had to bite her cheek to keep herself from interfering. 

She couldn't make the same mistakes. She couldn't make the same mistakes. 

She knew how painful it could be, and she wanted it to save the boy, to comfort him. She longed to pull out her lightsabers and put the Zygerrian in his place, but she stalled. She stayed her hand. She fought every instinct she had. 

It's for Skyguy. I can't mess up, not matter how much I need to help him. I can't. 

The lightwhip came cracking down on the boy. He yelped in pain, his bottom lip quivering. The man continued to beat him, and when the boy finally collapsed, he stopped. He grabbed the boy's wrists and dragged him across the ground. 

Once the spectacle was over, the marketplace resumed as if nothing had happened at all. 

People chatted with each other, slaves worked tirelessly, and Ahsoka felt sick. 

"I think I believe you." 

After what seemed like an endless path, they had reached the Queen's palace. 

In the front, standing guard, there were two Zygerrians, the same as last time. Although, they were different guards from last time. Ahsoka didn't want to think about what had happened to the two guards; failing to keep Jedi out of the palace was most likely considered failure on their part, even if the Queen herself ordered them to let her and Anakin in. 

"What do you want with the Queen?" The first one snarled. 

"And what would she ever want with you?" The second glared. 

Wonderful, friendly, peaceful. 

Accurate, correct words I'd use to describe Zygerrians. Ahsoka thought bitterly. 

"Would you, uh, please tell Her Majesty that Evian Seri," Evian's voice went a pitch higher. "Would like to discuss some possible merchandise she might be interested in?" Evian coughed into his fist. 

The Zygerrians seemed unimpressed, and Ahsoka couldn't blame them. 

That acting was terrible. Like beyond terrible. If this is how Evian was going to be, she might as well kiss her chances of seeing Anakin goodbye. 

"Her — " One of them began. A flying orb, presumably the Queen's flew in. 

"Evian Seri. Your services were of value last time, and your merchandise was not half bad. Let him in." 

Just like last time, an orb interrupted the Zygerrian. The Zygerrians, clearly annoyed, led them through the gateway. 

Almost halfway there. 

The throne room was exactly how Ahsoka remembered it, down to the very last detail. The throne, the flooring, the windows. Everything. 

Even the evil bitch on the throne was the same. 

When the Queen's eyes reached Evian, she smiled. 

"Evian! How lovely to see you! It's been too long." The Queen took Ahsoka in. "And who might your companion be?" 

"This is Kair Daere. He is an old associate of mine, and he came here to help ease the transition." Evian grabbed Ahsoka's shoulder in a friendly manner. Ahsoka shrugged him off. 

"Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Daere," The Queen said, her voice lilting. 

Her voice gave nothing away, but Ahsoka could tell that she was wary of her. 

"The pleasure is mine, Your Majesty." Ahsoka bowed. 

The Queen delighted in the praise and attention. 

"Such a gentleman, Kair." 

Evian cleared his throat. "Shall we?"

 The Queen nodded. She led them towards her balcony, where her and Evian sat down. 

"What species are the merchandise, might I ask?" 

"Twi'leks. And only the finest for you, my Queen." Evian reached out and grabbed her hand. He brought to his mouth and kissed it. 

"Are they trained?" 

"Of course. I can't have you getting some second rate slaves, Your Majesty." 

"Ooh, how delightful. I do love obedience." She teased. 

"Who doesn't?" Evian wiggled his eyebrows. 

The Queen laughed. 

The display of whatever that was, made Ahsoka queasy. 

"Kair? Would you care for a drink?" The Queen asked. 

Originally Ahsoka was going to laugh in the Queen's smug little face, but she thought better of it. 

Refusing a drink was something Jedi Padawan Ahsoka Tano would do. 

Kair Daere, the fearless bounty hunter, would accept, even though his helmet made it impossible to drink without taking it off. 

"I'd be delighted." Was all Ahsoka said. 

Enthralled, the Queen stood up. "Pet, would you bring us a drink for my guest?" 

Ahsoka heard a very audible grunt from the next room where the Queen's pet was. 

"And don't be slow! Remember what happened last time?" She yelled. 

Ahsoka winced. Judging from her tone of voice, it sounded like last time had not been a fun experience for the poor slave. 

Ahsoka waited on her drink which she wasn't actually going to drink. When it got to the fifteen minute mark, Ahsoka felt really, really bad for the poor slave who the Queen was undoubtedly going to punish. 

"Kair, I'm terribly sorry for his lateness. This particular toy is still being broken in, even after two years." The Queen sighed. 

Two years? Ahsoka didn't want to even think about how much suffering this person must've went through, but she is impressed by their strength of will. Two years? That's impressive. Not many could last that long. 

"It's alright, Your Majesty. You'll just have to punish them." Ahsoka winced at the bluntness. 

Did those words really just come out of my mouth? I would never say that. I couldn't. 

The Queen nodded in agreement. "You are correct. Extra punishment is needed. I have been far too lenient." 

"Of course." Evian murmured, barely paying attention. 

"Slave? Where are you, pet ? I do not like to be kept waiting." 

Ahsoka looked down at her lap in disinterest. That poor slave; she couldn't imagine what it must be like to be the Queen's personal manservant, bending to her every whim. 

"Here are your drinks, Majesty." A small, yet familiar voice whimpered. 

Ahsoka looked up immediately.  

Right there was her Master. 

Skyguy. 

Chapter Text

“Kair?” The Queen’s voice broke Ahsoka out of her trance. She had been looking at Anakin, trying but failing to form coherent thoughts. He was right there. He wasn’t supposed to be right there. He was supposed to be a body guard. Not her personal manservant. 

The plan was going to fail. 

“Ahh, I see you’ve taken notice of my slave. He is a prize, no?” The Queen asked. She waved her hand, and Anakin came running to her. 

He was an animal on a leash, trained and tamed to her liking. 

Ahsoka had to keep herself from attacking the Queen when she ordered Anakin to sit at her feet. The Queen put her hand on his head, slowly stroking it. She stared at Ahsoka while doing this, as if challenging her to say otherwise. 

She sat quietly, straightening out her thoughts. 

‘He’s right there, right in front of me, just sitting there, doing nothing,’ She thought. 

“Yes, he is a. . . prize your Majesty,” Ahsoka ground out. “How did you...receive such a fine...specimen?”

The Queen clicked her nails alongside the table. Slowly moving her hand to caress Anakin’s head, she turned her attention towards Ahsoka. 

“Why, Kair, do you desire one of your own? I’m afraid that’ll be difficult, considering this is a Jedi Knight of the Grand Republic, or he was anyway. Now he’s mine.” She laughed. 

At her feet, Anakin frowned. Ahsoka noticed how he frowned at the word, Jedi, not her declaration of ownership. 

Ahsoka nodded absentmindedly. She needed to know how she captured him, but she couldn’t ask again now. The Queen was watching her, silently assessing her every move. If she were to ask again, the Queen would know something was amiss. She couldn’t afford to kriff this up. Not when he was so close, just barely out of reach. 

“How ever did you manage to tame a Jedi , your Majesty?” Evian asked, emphasis on the word Jedi. 

Ahsoka widened her eyes slightly. She had forgotten about the bounty hunter. 

“I can’t go around spilling all my secrets, Evian.” The Queen purred. 

She moved her fingers through Anakin’s hair. Marking her territory, showing them both what was hers. 

“Of course not, my Queen. I was merely curious.” Evian smiled. “After all, only the most talented can tame such a feral beast such as a Jedi.” 

Ahsoka raised her eyebrow at him.

‘Beast? Feral? I’ll show him feral,’ Ahsoka glared at him. 

“Hah, you flatter me, though your words do hold truth to them. Jedi are difficult to train, but they break like all the rest." She smiled, her hands resting on her leg. Her claws were out, sharp and deadly as usual.

"You truly are magnificent, to be the first one to do so." Evian smiled into his drink.  

"Stop it!" She teased, clearly pleased. 

“He only says which is true, my Queen.” Ahsoka cringed. Had she really just said that? How did Anakin even manage to flirt with her all those years ago?  

Speaking of Anakin, Queen Miraj put her claws on the back of his neck, and she took her time in running them downwards, careful to avoid a collar (was that a Force suppressing collar?!) delighting when she drew a little, red drop of blood. Ahsoka had to restrain herself from retaliating, but Anakin didn't. He just sat there, with dead eyes, allowing her to harm him. He was so different from her Master, and Ahsoka didn't know if he'd ever be the same again.

“Today there is to be a slave auction, how about you join me Evian? Kair may join as well.” The Queen smirked, triumphantly. 

Evian moved his drink to the side, and answered. "Of course. We'd be delighted. Right, Kair?" 

Ahsoka nodded quietly, though she wanted to scream aloud. 

Outside of the palace, close to the outskirts of the nearest settlement, Ahsoka and Evian stood, waiting to make contact with Master Kenobi and Senator Amidala. 

“Why are you so jittery?” Evian drawled. 

Ahsoka stopped fidgeting with her comm, and turned on him. 

“Because we just saw my Master!” She cried, furiously. 

Her helmet was on her too tight. She needed to get it off, she needed to breathe. It was suffocating her, she needed it off. 

She reached her hands up and ripped it off, taking a deep breath once she saw it rolling on the floor. 

Evian moved to comfort her, by putting a hand on her shoulder. 

She scowled. “Off.” She shoved his hand off, and took a few steps to the left. 

“Sorry.” He said, sarcastically. 

Ahsoka growled at him, baring her canines for him to see. 

“Yeesh! I don’t get why you’re upset. You just saw your Master. He’s obviously still kicking, or well sitting, if you will.” He snickered. 

“Exactly. He was just sitting there, obediently. He let her order him around, treat him like he was beneath her! He-he acted nothing like my Master! Nothing. He acted like-like he was a slave.” Ahsoka breathed, the words pouring out of her. 

“That’s because he is a slave, sweetheart.” Evian said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the galaxy. 

He turned towards Ahsoka with a weird expression on his face. 

“He has been a slave for what? A year? Two years? I don’t think you quite understand how badly that fucks someone up. He won’t be the same now, maybe ever.” He explained, a grave expression on his face. “But that doesn’t mean he’s not the same person, just a little different. Trauma can shape people, but it doesn’t define them.” 

Ahsoka listened to his explanation, and realized he was correct, for once. Skyguy might be a little different, maybe a lot different, but he was still Skyguy. He was still her Master. No matter how badly this screws him up, changes him, she will always be there for him, like he was there for her. 

“You’re right. He is still Skyguy, no matter how much he has forgotten that.” She said. 

“Of course I’m right. Duh. Anyways, now that you know where he is, can I leave? I mean, can I be paid first?” He yawned. 

She narrowed her eyes at him. Did he seriously think he could bail on them now? Now that they were so, so close?

“No. Even if we found him, we have to get him out. When you said the Queen had him, we assumed it was strictly bodyguarding, not whatever that was. He’s too close. We need to find a better way to get him out,” She smacked her forehead. “And we need to contact Master Kenobi.” 

She fiddled with her comn, desperate to get it up and running. If she wasn’t so frantic, she could’ve done it in half the time. 

Eventually, a muffled sound could be heard. 

“Master Kenobi?” She asked, hesitantly. 

“A..oka?” The reverb from the comm interrupted his message, but she could fill in the blanks. 

“Master Kenobi?” She repeated, a bit louder. 

He hesitated before replying. “D.d .ou f..d hi.?” 

Did you find him? 

“Yes, we did.” She said. She thought she could hear a sigh of relief, but she couldn’t tell if it was from Senator Amidala or Master Kenobi, possibly both. “But there is a problem. He’s not just the Queen’s bodyguard.”

She heard dissent on the line. Something about a “move over so I can talk to her, or I will skewer you with that lightsaber of yours,” but she couldn’t be certain.

“Wh.t do .ou ..an?” A feminine voice asked.

' It must be Senator Amidala.'  Ahsoka thought immediately. 

What do you mean?

“I mean, he’s the Queen’s personal slave, and I don’t know how far in he is. All I know is that she has him at her side quite frequently. It’ll be hard to find a window we can get him out in.” 

There was a pause, before a collective, “Kriff.” 

Chapter Text

Padmé was not upset. Padmé was not worried. 

And most certainly, Padmé Amidala was not on the cusp of a mental breakdown. That would be...ridiculous.

She did not hear Ahsoka’s report. She does not know where her husband supposedly is. No, her husband is dead, killed on the whims of the Jedi. Her husband has not been reliving his childhood, one spent in slavery. He has not been subjected to this horrifying experience. 

If..if he has, then she would’ve failed. She would’ve failed her husband. She promised to look out for him, to always be there.

Except she wasn’t, was she? No, while she was sitting comfortably on Coruscant, he was here suffering. It..it just wasn’t fair. 

This just wasn’t fair. Why did he have to go through so much pain? Why wasn’t she there? Why couldn’t she help him? Why was she such a lousy wife? 

She’d understand if he wanted to leave her after this. She didn’t uphold her promises. She left him, all alone. 

But it wasn’t her fault, was it? No, it was the Jedi’s. They didn’t care that he was a former slave from Tatooine when they sent him to save Jabba’s son. They didn’t care about leaving trauma to fester under the surface. As long as you released it into the force, right? As long as you behaved perfectly, never once showed emotion like a normal being, you were fine, right? But Anakin wasn’t fine ; he was far from it. For beings who are supposed to have compassion for all beings, they were detached from reality. 

‘ Release it into the force,’ they always said. But had they ever considered that’s just not good enough? Trauma doesn’t just magically go away. Their excuse? ‘ We don’t want people to fall to the dark,’ or, even better, ‘We don’t want them to stray from the path of light.’ Who gave those self-righteous idiots all the power? She was fairly certain one didn’t have to be a Jedi, to follow the path of the light. Jedi left the order all the time; Dooku was just a bad example. 

She tried to pin this on the Jedi, and it wasn’t hard. They were the ones who gave one Jedi Master, a fairly young Jedi Knight, and a Padawan(a child) the mission to infiltrate a slave empire. And, not only that, but Ahsoka was a togruta, the type of species that had just been captured. 

The Jedi Council was stupidity personified, yet Padmé couldn’t help the drop in her stomach. It didn’t matter who was stupid enough to send an ex-slave into slaver space. She wasn’t there. She insisted Anakin stay in the Jedi Order until the end of the war. She wanted him to be selfless, when really, the whole galaxy was being selfish. The Jedi were peacekeepers, not soldiers, and yet, the battlefield was littered with younglings. Younglings whose parents had unknowingly sent them to die. 

The floor was shaking underneath her, and she could only faintly make out Obi-Wan’s cries of distress. Her stomach folded in on itself, and she swayed, her arms moving by themselves. She felt sick. 

“Senator Amidala?” Obi-Wan asked, clutching her shoulder. 

“Yes..?” She replied, weaker than intended. 

“Are you alright?” His accent was crisp, like those of the inner ring worlds. Obi-Wan didn’t know the struggle outer rim worlds went through as well as Anakin did. He called his own future padawan a pathetic life form when they first met.

Qui-Gon’s death must’ve been hard for such a sheltered man. But, he’s fine isn’t he? He just let it into the force, as all good Jedi should. As all good Jedi should. As all good Jedi should. 

Anakin wasn’t a good Jedi, she had long since accepted that fact. No, he was moody, emotional and flawed. 

He wasn’t a good Jedi, but he was a good person. His heart was big, he wore it on his sleeve, and that was a problem. A big problem. 

“I’m fine,” She replied, crisp and curt. She may have respected Obi-Wan, but that didn’t mean she had to like him. 

Sensing her hostility, Obi-Wan faltered. “If you’re sure, Senator.”

“I am.” Final. 

“ Ma..er w.at a.e we goi.g to do?” Ahsoka asked, the static breaking her voice up. 

Master Kenobi stopped, opened his mouth then promptly closed it. 

“I-I don’t know. We’ll have to change our plans to accommodate this...development.” 

Of course. 

Obi-Wan didn’t know what to do! Of course he didn’t. He didn’t actually expect Anakin to be alive, did he? No, he moved on, and released it into the Force. 

Anakin wasn’t just some bodyguard slave to a noble, no, he was a slave to the Queen. As if their day couldn’t get any worse. 

“Ahsoka?” Padmé asked, lightly pushing Obi-Wan to the side. 

“ Y.s, Sen.tor Amid.la? ” Ahsoka responded. 

“What conditions was he in, exactly?” Padmé wanted to know what this schutta was doing to him, and how quickly she could strangle her. 

“ Um, he l.oked okay? Physic.lly he seemed fine, but I d.n’t think he’s okay mentally. He was kind of submissive…” Ahsoka trailed off. 

The implications were not lost on Padmé. 

“I am going to kill that schutta. Diplomacy was never an option.” She hissed. 

Master Kenobi froze, unsure of how exactly he was supposed to reply to that. The Senator just expressed murderous intent. Should he try and stop her? A tiny voice in his head told him to, yes, stop her. All life is sacred, but another, louder voice told him to, let Senator Amidala murder the Queen. You know you want to…

Honestly, that voice scared him. Those kinds of voices lead to the dark side. 

“Senator, I don’t believe we should rule out diplomacy just yet. We may still be able to—”

“Shhh. I don’t want to, Negotiator. I am going to murder her, and you can either stand off to the side like a good Jedi, or you can get in my way...your choice.” 

Obi-Wan’s mouth snapped shut. Senator Amidala wasn’t normally this crude. 

“ I’m going to be honest, Master Kenobi. I thi.k you sh..ld just not get in her way…” Ahsoka placated. 

Obi-Wan’s eyebrows shot right up. Now his Padawan was plotting murder too? What else should he be expecting? A full blown Sith Lord? 

“She invited you to the slave auction, right Ahsoka?” 

“ Yes. Evian and I are going to be in attendance. ” Evian was the bounty hunter Ahsoka kidnapped. Huh, weirdly enough, Padmé forgot he existed. 

“Do you think he’ll be there?” Padmé asked. 

Ahsoka hesitated. “ I believe so . The Queen really, really liked him. ”

If that didn’t set off every alarm in her head. 

“Is that so?” Padmé’s voice was cold. 

“Senator Amidala,” Obi-Wan warned.

“What do you mean by liked him?” Padmé questioned. 

Ahsoka didn’t answer. 

“Ahsoka?” Padmé reprimanded. She needed an answer. 

“She had him near her, at like all times...and she pet him.”

She did WHAT? She pet her Ani like he was some animal? Like he was her pet? If she wasn’t dead before, she was dead now. 

Padmé said nothing. She was too angry to. Frustration, exasperation, anger. None of those words could describe the sheer amount of rage she had. She wanted to see that schutta suffer.

It was a good thing she wasn’t Force-Sensitive. She’d be more dangerous than any Sith Lord before her. 

Even Obi-Wan couldn’t speak. He...didn’t like how enraged the Senator was, and he didn’t like that he felt the same way. Someone had laid a hand on his former Padawan, and they were going to pay for it. Whether it be by his hand, or the Senator’s. 

“We are getting him out right now.” Padmé hissed. 

“We can’t,” Obi-Wan sighed. “We can’t risk getting caught. We need to plan more. We need...the backing of the Republic.” 

“How do you suggest we get that?” Padmé asked. 

She knew how indecisive the Republic could be first hand. 

Anakin once joked that a dictatorship would be better than how they currently did things. While she didn’t agree with that, at all, she could see what he meant. 

“I hate to suggest this,  but perhaps we could use Anakin’s friendship with the Chancellor to our advantage?” Obi-Wan suggested. 

Padmé paused. Master Kenobi just suggested they ask the Chancellor to help save him. It was...ingenious. The Chancellor cared about Anakin, and would surely help them get him back. He could present it to the Senate, and with evidence , perhaps he could convince them. Zygerria, while not currently in the Republic, has been holding a citizen of the Republic captive against their will. 

Slavery wasn’t pretty. For someone as strong-willed as Anakin, they would need to us physical force to keep him in line. Physical force usually meant torture. 

Padmé was going to be sick. They tortured her husband. They will pay. 

“Yes, perhaps we could.” 

Chapter Text

Darth Sidious was capable of fooling the entire galaxy, yet he couldn’t find the fool who lost his future apprentice. When Skywalker had been declared dead, he had been curious. Dooku knew how badly he wanted the boy; surely he wasn’t idiotic enough to kill him. Skywalker had to be alive, he knew he would have felt it if he wasn’t. Unlike the utter fools who called themselves the Jedi, Sidious was attuned to the Force. Someone of Skywalker’s powers wouldn’t just drop off the radar. Their death would be felt, by every single being. Even the blind fools holed up in that temple. 

So, he contacted Dooku. To his amazement, Dooku didn’t seem to know where the boy was. And Dooku knew better than to lie to him. Or, at least Sidious thought he did. Dooku was obviously hiding something, and Sidious would find out. 

Sooner or later, Darth Sidious can make anyone crack. 

After a year, Sidious began to slow his search. He couldn’t afford to use all his resources on a wild bantha chase. Sidious knew the boy would show his face eventually. His beloved wife, apprentice and master were here. 

In an attempt to draw the boy out, Sidious had Kenobi and Tano sent on more difficult, live threatening missions. If one of them were to be injured, or better yet, die, Skywalker would be his for the taking. 

All his attempts failed. Tano and Kenobi were routinely injured, maimed, and on the one occasion tortured, so where was Skywalker?

The young knight was extremely overprotective due to his upbringing as a slave. He wouldn’t just abandon his attachments, would he? No, he wouldn’t. Sidious was certain he knew the Jedi well enough to say so. He was attached to them the same way a small child would be to their favourite stuffed animal. 

Skywalker should’ve come by now. Kenobi faked his own death. There were holos all about his life, documentaries on it. Shouldn’t he have seen those? Sidious himself had been in “trouble”, and wasn’t the Chancellor a dear friend of the boy’s?

No, Skywalker would’ve taken the bait. Something must be keeping him held up. Something...or someone?

Where did the report say he vanished ? Zygerria? He must be there. If Sidious remembered correctly, wasn’t Zygerria known for their disregard of the slavery ban? Hmm, interesting. That could be used to his advantage. 

But...wasn’t Zygerria a potential separatist planet? In his traitorous apprentice’s jurisdiction, no less. 

So, Dooku was lying. He did know something. Sidious was fuming. Who did his apprentice think he was, lying to Sidious? Sidious could snap his neck with a mere thought. He did not get betrayed. 

Sidious was at a standstill. Dooku couldn’t be allowed to live. He wasn’t even a true apprentice; merely a tool. Yet, he thought he was above his master. That couldn’t be allowed. Unfortunately, Sidious didn’t see himself taking over the Republic anytime soon. He needed to keep an eye on his apprentice. Dooku may be a liar, but he was still useful. 

Dooku would be allowed to live for now. Once an opportunity presented itself, he would take it. 

No one betrayed him and lived to tell the tale. It was only a matter of time. But Sidious was willing to wait. He was patient. 

Sidious looked over some bills proposed by the more, rambunctious senators, and sneered. Once the Republic was the empire, his empire, such things wouldn’t happen. He didn’t care about the wookies, or the twi’leks, or any other species. His empire would be glorious. He wouldn’t need to focus his energy on such frivolous tasks. 

Mas Amedda, an assistant in all but name, opened his door. 

“Sir, Senator Amidala is here to see you, along with a Padawan Tano and Master Kenobi.” 

Sidious sneered. He had better things to do then contend with Jedi, of all things. But, these were the people closest to his prized apprentice. He couldn’t pick them off just yet. 

“Allow them in,” He said, careful to keep his voice even. He couldn’t let these buffoons see any semblance of real emotion. Not that they would even jump to the right conclusion, anyway. 

Even if he laid all the pieces in front of them, the Jedi wouldn’t be able to solve the puzzle. 

It was a miracle they lasted this long, honestly. He would take great pleasure watching them perish. 

Senator Amidala was the first to enter. 

“Chancellor Palpatine,” She greeted, amicably. As far as she knew, he was her beloved mentor. A fellow Nubian politician, and one who didn’t stumble over his...everything. He would like to keep it that way. 

“Senator Amidala. A pleasure to see you, as always,” He paused as the Jedi walked in. “And you brought Master Kenobi and Padawan Tano. I’m honored to have two heroes of the Republic in my presence.” It took everything he had not to gag at the words that came out of his mouth. As a politician, and a sith lord, he had learned how to use words as a weapon. 

Most people thought lightsabers were the most deadly thing in this universe, and Sidious always looked down on the fools who thought such things. Lightsabers were hardly deadly, and almost any moron could wield one. For example, most Jedi were bumbling idiots with no sense of grace. It swings, wacks, and hits. That was what those Jedi were good for. Brute force and basic understanding of the Force. 

Lightsabers were for the faint of heart. True power resided in the Force, and those willing to use it. 

“The honour is ours, Chancellor.” The Padawan said, as she bowed. Sidious didn’t snarl, he didn’t glare. He accepted it with grace. 

“Esteemed Chancellor,” Master Kenobi said. 

Ah, Kenobi. The Jedi had been a thorn in his side for many years now. First, it was the death of Maul. While not the most promising apprentice, he was certainly better than Dooku. Now, Maul was nothing but a mere half of what he used to be. He was useless. 

Kenobi stole nearly two decades of his life’s work. Maul used to be a sharp, precise weapon, now he was just as dull as a Jedi. 

Really, Sidious should just kill the man where he stands, witnesses be damned. He wants to, he yearns to, but he can’t. He must show restraint for his future apprentice. Skywalker may be out of his sights, but only for now. He will have the Chosen One. It is his destiny. 

Looking over the Jedi Master, he couldn’t help but note how...disheveled he looked. All of three of them looked, actually. The Padawan’s garments were thrown on sloppily, and Senator Amidala was out of breath. He wondered what had caused this. Skywalker’s disappearance, perhaps? But, they hadn’t been this way when he originally went missing. 

No, this recent development must have another cause, but he couldn’t pinpoint what that was. 

“We have a request,” Senator Amidala finished. 

Sidious raised an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t this be better if you filed it in the senate, my dear?” 

All three of them exchanged a look. 

“Chancellor, we have information,” The Padawan spoke, again. “You might be very interested to hear.”

Hmm, interest piqued. “What is this information of yours about?” 

“A certain republic citizen was found being held against their will in inhumane conditions on a potential separatist world.” Master Kenobi said, rather bluntly. 

They found Skywalker. 

That was certainly a development. One he could use to his advantage. By teaming up with these three to find a lost hero, he could boost morale enough to dispose of the separatists entirely. Not only that, but he’d get his future apprentice back, and Skywalker would be extremely thankful. Dependent. 

Yes, he could use this. 

“Was this republic citizen declared dead?” If they were going to be blunt, so was he. 

“Yes.” Senator Amidala answered, not missing a beat. 

“I’m listening,” He said. 

And listen he did. They launched into an explanation of Skywalker’s condition, while mentioning that the Zygerrians forced a republic citizen into slavery. Meaning, they violated the terms of neutrality. Meaning, they could be shut down.

Sidious didn’t care for slavers. If the strong wanted to use the weak, so be it. 

It made no difference to him whether or not slavery thrived. In the Republic, unfortunately, it did matter. 

But, taking down a slave trade would make him look very good. Especially if he used Anakin as collateral. The boy was kidnapped, he’d say. He’s traumatized. The war has destroyed so many of our lives...

People would eat that up. 

The Empire would soon be formed. 

Soon. 

“It seems we must act soon. These monsters can not be allowed to get away with this.” He said, acting the part of the kindly grandfather. It was an image he crafted through years and years of practice. No one suspected the kindly old man. No one ever will. 

“You believe us?” Tano asked, her voice a mixture of doubt and confusion. 

“Of course. I had been devastated when Anakin was declared dead. I cared dearly for him,” He paused. “He was like a son to me. If there’s a chance he’s alive, I’m willing to take it.” 

Both Senator Amidala and Padawan Tano bought it. He could tell that Kenobi was still on the fence, waiting to see if he was trustworthy. He wasn’t, but Kenobi was a Jedi. He wouldn’t figure that out. 

“But,” He said, glancing around the room. “I must get back to senate dealings. You know how they are. Might we discuss this at a later time? Tomorrow, perhaps?” 

Tano’s nostrils flared. Kenobi raised his eyebrows. Only Amidala was sympathetic, having to deal with the senate fools on a daily basis. She knew the plight that was the senators.

“Alright. We will let you be, Chancellor. We understand how busy you are.” 

The Senator motioned for her colleagues to leave, politely. Master Kenobi bowed, and headed towards the door. He looked at his Padawan, who was staring Sidious down, as if she could somehow intimidate him. Pathetic. 

“Ahsoka,” Master Kenobi admonished. 

The Padawan barely budged, not letting her eyes leave Sidious’. He smiled warmly, hiding his true emotions. 

Finally, she got up and left. At the door, she looked back, narrowing her eyes. She didn’t trust him. 

That didn’t matter.

Once he was sure they were gone, he pulled out a comms device. 

It was time his traitorous apprentice learned his place. 

Betrayal was not to be taken lightly.

Chapter Text

“I don’t trust him.” Ahsoka seethed, once they were on their way. The Chancellor used to be Anakin’s friend, his confidante. Ahsoka had no reason to distrust him, but she did. She knew her grand-master did too. Chancellor Palpatine had too much interest in a young boy. Anakin started seeing him when he was nine, so that means he’d known Palpatine for about ten years. Who knows what happened on those visits. 

Not that she thought anything did, but anyone could see how suspicious that was. Except for her master, apparently. Once upon a time, she would’ve idolized the Chancellor. After all, wasn’t he doing everything he could to end this war? The way he held onto the emergency powers like a leech was oh, so inspiring. The senate only ate up whatever he fed them. Ahsoka may not be extremely well versed in politics, but she knows a rat when she sees one. The Chancellor let this war go on for far too long, and has done nothing to stop it. She didn’t see what Anakin saw in him; she didn’t see what the galaxy saw. 

“I don’t either.” Master Kenobi sighed. “Chancellor Palpatine has always been a little too eager to stay in office.” 

“I agree.” The Nubian Senator murmured, barely audible. 

“I know the Chancellor was a mentor to you, Senator Amidala-”

 “I agree.” She repeated, locking eyes with the Jedi Master. “I am not blinded by the past, Master Kenobi. I need to look to the future. As a Jedi, I’d assume you’d agree?”

“Of course, Senator Amidala.” Master Kenobi amended, voice calm and even. Almost nothing ever fazed her Grandmaster. “I didn’t mean any offense. I’ve known Chancellor Palpatine to be extremely...persuasive, before.” 

“What do you mean, Master Kenobi?” Ahsoka asked, the tense atmosphere in the room increasing a tenfold. 

“I didn’t want my new Padawan near the Chancellor,” Obi-Wan said, eyes narrowed. “Of course, I was ignored. After all, I was out of my mind with grief, and thus couldn’t make any decisions regarding my own Padawan.” 

Neither Padmé nor Ahsoka said anything in response. Over the years, she had noticed the strange closeness between the Chancellor and her Master, but the Chancellor was her friend, right? Anakin always said so. He made sure she knew how trustworthy he was, how different he was from other politicians. Sometimes, she’d idly wonder what inspired the huge amount of trust Anakin had for the older man, but she’d always push it to the back of her mind. The Chancellor was one of Skyguy’s oldest friends. He’d been there for most of her Master’s childhood, a steady hand guiding him through life. 

Although, how many politicians paid excessive attention to Jedi younglings? In some ways, it made her uneasy. 

“This isn’t going to get us anywhere.” The Senator sighed. “Do you think the Chancellor will ensure Anakin’s return?” 

Master Kenobi paused. “I believe so. No matter how much I dislike the frankly inappropriate relationship between my former Padawan and that man, I believe he cares about Anakin.”  

“Skyguy always spoke very highly of the Chancellor,” Ahsoka added. “I’m sure that faith wasn’t misplaced.” 

“You may not like Chancellor Palpatine, Master Kenobi,” Senator Amidala raised an eyebrow. “And for the record, neither do I, but he knows how to get the job done, and cover his tracks. I may not like how it’s done, but it will be done.” 

“That’s...efficient.” Ahsoka muttered.

“What happened to that bounty hunter you hired, Ahsoka?” The former Nubian Queen inquired. Ahsoka noticed her use of hired in lieu of kidnapped . 

“He’s on standby if we need him. Says he’s too deep to back out now.” Which was true, really. If Evian were to back out now, the entire operation would be put at jeopardy. Without their resident bounty hunter, the Queen and her underlings would know something was up. Ahsoka wasn’t willing to let Anakin’s fate dangle on the line, and she didn’t think Senator Amidala nor Master Kenobi were either. 

She just wanted her Master back. Master Kenobi wanted his friend back. Senator Amidala wanted whatever Anakin was to her back. It didn’t matter who he was to them, they just wanted him back. Ahsoka wasn’t as naive as people thought she was. She knew he’d be different, but he’d still be the same old Skyguy underneath the submissive slave, right? 

Right. 

She was overthinking this. Life wasn’t as simple as black and white, but she wanted it to be. She hated all these shades of grey, the in between moments that made no sense. As a Jedi, things were either one way or another. 

There was no in between, there was no grey. 

“What do we do now? Wait? Wait for that schutta to hurt my hus-Ani? I’ve seen what slavers do to families, and I’ve seen what they do people. We can’t let that happen to him.”

“Of course not, Senator Amidala. Anakin is a Jedi, he will be fine.” Master Kenobi reassured, hand hovering near her shoulder, as if he wanted to physically comfort her, but didn’t know how to approach her. 

“What if it already has?” Ahsoka thought aloud.”What if he’s not the same?” Ahsoka tried not to think that way, but it was hard. Her Master wouldn’t bow down to a cruel mistress, wouldn’t behave like a pet; an animal. He would fight back, he would put her in her place. He would show the Queen the might of the Jedi, the will of the Force. He was always so strong, and the man she saw on Zygerria was anything but. Broken, fractured.

(There he sat, on the floor, palms turned upwards. The Queen carded her fingers through his dirty hair. She said bittersweet words filled with poison. She watched with glee as he drowned in her empty promises and deadly threats. She lived while his spirit died. 

She thrived while he broke.)

She ignored it for too long. She wanted to pretend everything was fine, and that her Master had been with her for the two years he was missing. But she couldn’t. 

He wasn’t there. He didn’t help her with her training, he didn’t watch her grow as a Force user. Master Kenobi did. 

Maybe, just maybe, she was being unfair to Master Kenobi. He tried his best after all, and wasn’t that what mattered? She knew Jedi weren’t supposed to get angry, but everytime she thought about her Master, and what could’ve been, something in her chest twists uncomfortably. She wants to say something, she wants to scream every time. Alas, a Jedi must not give into the dark side. 

Alas, a Jedi must not have emotions. 

A Jedi must not feel anything. 

“You didn’t see him, Senator Amidala. He sat there, and let her pet him. She treated him like an animal, and he let her. He didn’t do anything. ” Ahsoka spat, her rage boiling under her skin, ready to flare up at any moment. “He acted like a-a slave!” 

“Ahsoka,” Her temporary master said, his voice soft like a blanket. “He is a slave.” 

“No he isn’t! He’s my master, your padawan, and your,” She pointed at the Nubian Senator. “ Whatever he is to you!” 

“Ahsoka,” Master Kenobi stated, his disapproval already evident. “Release it into the force.” 

“I am! I’m not mad. I’m not doing anything, like a perfect Jedi.” Ahsoka spat. She wasn’t acting like herself, as she would never, ever yell at a Jedi Master. But she was sick and tired of being invalidated. So what? She had feelings, she had emotions like every normal person. She just wanted to be able to express her feelings without being treated as defective. 

Deep down, she already knew her Master was changed. After all, wasn’t she changed too? Time heals all wounds, but some wounds are timeless. 

Honestly, it scared her. Everything changed after that mission. She couldn’t talk to Rex or any of the 501st anymore. 

( “When may I see Captain Rex?” Ahsoka asked. The Jedi Council had called for both Master Kenobi and Ahsoka to come see them. They said it was for, ‘important matters’.  

The Councilmen looked at eachother, their expressions guarded. “Padawan Tano, you won’t be able to see the 501st anymore. Your access has been cut off.” 

“What?” She nearly demanded. “What do you mean?”

“With the death of Knight Skywalker, we don’t believe it to be necessary that you remain in contact with the legion. No worries, the 501st will be put into expert care. You’ll be working with the 212th from now on.” 

“But…” Ahsoka’s protest died on her lips. She liked Cody well enough, but the 501st were her brothers. They couldn’t just force her out of their lives. 

Could they?

“Don’t take it too personally, Padawan Tano,” Master Windu said. “Your attachment to them has become too great, and as a young, promising Jedi, we can’t have anything threaten your future.”)

When Anakin got back, everything would be back to normal. It had to be. She’d see the 501st again, and they’d help win the war. 

Maybe, they’d finally get to be a regular Master-Padawan duo. 

“I believe he will be fine,” The Senator interrupted her thoughts. “No, I know he’ll be fine. He’s a fighter. He won’t sit down and take it. I’ve seen the horrors of slavery, but he has too. He won’t be broken.” 

“I agree with Senator Amidala.” Obi-Wan added. “On both accounts. Slavery changes people. Fortunately, I had only experienced it for a while, but I hate to think of what could’ve happened.” 

It took Ahsoka a moment to register his words. “You were....?” 

“Yes, but it was a long time ago,” Her temporary Master had a wistful look in his eye. “I was but a young, naive youngling.” 

“Okay…” Ahsoka wasn't sure how to respond to the information. She didn't even think Skyguy knew about this. He always treated his Master with reluctant respect, if that made sense. “I still don't like having to rely on the Chancellor. We should be the ones who rescue him.”

“Ideally, someone he knew well would be the one to find him, but we don’t have the option. It’s either do or die at this point.” Master Kenobi stroked his beard, as he looked over his two companions. His shoulders relaxed as he let out a sigh. “Unfortunately, the Jedi Council wouldn’t let us retrieve Anakin ourselves. It looks too...suspicious. If the Chancellor orders them to send people to get him, they will have to listen.” 

“We’ve backed them into a proverbial corner.” Senator Amidala nodded, agreeing with the Jedi Master. She usually abhorred the use of blackmail, or coercion, but it felt right in this situation. “It’s not like they wouldn’t send someone to get him if they knew he was alive, anyway. I have a feeling the Chancellor will request you two specifically to be the ones to rescue him.” 

“I have a feeling you’re right,” Ahsoka giggled. “Although, that could just be the Force.” 

“Trust in the Force, young Padawan,” Obi-Wan smiled. “It will guide you through your darkest times.” 

“You make it sound like the Force is a flashlight,” Ahsoka countered, twirling her sabers in her hand. “I’d rather use my lightsabers.” 

“I didn’t know you needed a high midichlorian count to use a flashlight.” Senator Amidala said, eyebrows raised. 

Ahsoka smiled easily, and relished in the feeling. It had been a long time since she had just laughed and joked around. Most of the time, everything was serious. There was no colour. She would never tell Master Kenobi, but she enjoyed his sense of dry humour. 

“Senator Amidala?” All three of them turned around to see Mas Amedda watching them, his monotone voice silencing any joy there might’ve been. “The Chancellor would like to see you and your,” He paused. “Companions. There is much you need to discuss. He’d prefer this matter be kept on the down low, however.” 

“Of course,” Padmé murmured. 

“Follow me.” Mas said, as he gestured for the group to head back down the hallway. Finally, they were going to actually do something about Anakin. 

They were going to get him back. 

Chapter Text

After the bounty hunters left, quite abruptly, Anakin waited for the Queen to settle. There was something familiar about the second one, but Anakin wasn’t going to dwell on it. From the other room, he’d managed to grab a knife, and hide it under his thin tunic. He’d obeyed her every command today, making sure to satisfy every whim and desire. If he was going to get close, he needed to be trusted. He knew there was no way out of this hellhole, and his only possible release would be death. He was okay with it, he really was. Once, he might’ve been destined for greatness, for something different. Now, he just wanted to take this schutta out with him when he went down. If he failed, he’d be put under like a wild animal. If he succeeded, his fate would be the same. 

Either way, it was worth it. Just to see her face after he stabbed her, after he betrayed her. Would it be despair? Helplessness? He knew the power struggle afterwards wouldn’t be fun for the current slaves, but it might give them hope. Hope, such a fickle, fleeting thing. 

He wasn’t her stupid pet, not anymore. After kneeling for her, allowing her such power over him, he needed out. What easier way than death? 

“It’s too bad,” The Queen mewled, as her fingers went through his long hair, stopping at each knot. “I hoped Kair would stick around for the auction, to see where his cargo goes. See the end product. After all, should an artist not see his masterpiece?” 

Anakin didn’t say anything, only nodding along wordlessly. He didn’t trust himself enough to speak. She glanced at him, watching him from the corner of her eye. 

“It always astounds me how little they care about their work,” She tsked, as if truly horrified by the bounty hunters’ indifference. “It’s an art, breaking a spirit. It takes time, and effort. The end piece is almost always worth the price. You, my Pet, are a prime example of this. A once proud, arrogant Jedi. Now? Now you are near perfect. No anger, no attitude, just bliss. Ignorant bliss, worthy of a creature such as yourself.” 

“Of course, Mistress.” She turned her back to him, giving him the perfect opportunity. She looked out over the courtyard, barely taking note of the slaves working away in the sunlight. Anakin noticed, however. It reminded him of his own time on Tatooine, under the hot suns. The sand would blow in, and leave nothing behind. “Such wise words.” 

“Oh, stop it.” She pat his head, amusement bright in her voice. “You flatter me. Although, compliments won’t get you very far, Pet.” 

Anakin bit his lip to keep his thoughts locked in. He winced as he tasted the all too familiar flavor of iron. 

“If life has taught me anything,” She said, as she stared at the skyline. “It’s that you should never trust anyone. Not even your pets.” 

Anakin’s heart dropped, the metal of the knife cool against his warm skin. The Queen grabbed his left wrist in a tight hold, her hand encompassing the entirety of it. Anakin had never been so thin in his entire life, not even when he was practically starving on his home planet. He stared at his arm for what seemed like forever, unable to comprehend the obvious changes to his being. For most of his time here, on this hellhole, he’d focused on the pain, and the pain only. It got him through the nights, when he just wanted to curl up into himself and die. Afterwards, the guilt would eat at him for hours on end. He had it easier, he shouldn’t be complaining. Slaves like Kaila, or any other twi’lek had it worse. His mother had never sugar-coated the harsh truth of what happened to the female twi’leks under Gardulla the Hutt. 

In comparison, his life was privileged beyond compare. 

He hated how horrible and disgusted he felt. He should be grateful for her inherent kindness, shouldn’t he? He should be grovelling at her feet instead of spitting on her kindness. 

Yet, he wasn’t. The Queen snarled, as she pushed his hand back, sending him flying towards the ground. His knife flew out into the open, allowing any onlookers a clear view of the silver sheen. 

“What’s this?” She asked, looking him over with barely concealed disdain. “You dare try and assassinate me? Your Queen?” 

“No.” Anakin spat at her feet, blood and spit barely missing her shoe. “Of course not.”

“Such venom, Pet. Is it directed at me?” 

Anakin said nothing. 

“Liars are never rewarded, Anakin. Traitors are executed. This act of rebellion will not be tolerated, Pet. My advisors warned me about something like this happening. I should’ve listened. Alas, my own pride blinded me to seeing your faults.” 

Anakin was about to do something he was going to regret, yet he couldn’t find it in him to care. At this point, roughly a few years after he felt the Force, or actually spoke to his family, he had nothing to lose. To the galaxy he was dead, anyway. He didn’t even know how the war efforts were going. Had they lost? Had they won? He had no way of finding out, as the Queen was very tight-lipped on all information. 

“Go to hell.” He snapped. “I’d rather die than serve under a tyrant like you.”

The Queen clearly had not expected a reaction of that magnitude. “Oh, I think you misunderstand, Skywalker. You won’t be killed.” 

“I won’t?” Anakin repeated. His ears must be deceiving him. 

“No, you’re going to be corrected. Death is too easy for you, a reward if you will. No, I’ve been kind to you, I’ve been patient. I wanted a pet, someone to spoil, and you couldn’t give me that. If you want to be treated like a slave, you will be treated as a slave.” 

Anakin’s eyes widened. His pride was long gone, and his courage shattered. Once, he would never have allowed himself to be in such a situation, but he wasn’t above begging if it came to it. He’d seen what the corrective facilities were like. He’d rather die than go there; rather take any other punishment. He still had some facets of his personality, of his old life left, he didn’t want to start over. The facilities made new people from walking corpses. There was no life in the husks left behind. 

“No…”

“You rejected my affection, Pet. You are receiving the consequences. You showed compassion to everyone except me, even that lowly twi’lek. This hurts me as much as it hurts you, Pet.” 

It hurt her as much as it hurt him. Obviously, she’d be whipped into submission, over and over again. Stripped of her individuality like he would be. 

“Please….please don’t…” Anakin hated himself in that moment, as he whimpered out pathetic pleas. 

“Oh, I don’t want to do this,” The Queen frowned, her voice soft yet sharp. “But you leave me no choice, Pet. No choice at all. This must be done, don’t you see? I want to show you off, to be proud of you, but I can’t if you’re disloyal, or betray me, which you’ve done already.” 

Anakin stopped breathing. He did betray the Queen. He’s as guilty as charged, yet she isn’t sentencing him to execution. Merciful, as always. 

She grabbed his chin, and forced his face upwards, making him maintain eye contact with her. “If it were anyone else, I would’ve had their body strung up on the fence, and maybe used their limbs as food for the slaves. But you? No, Anakin, you’re special. You’re mine, and it would do you well to remember that. No matter what you do, where you go, you will always be mine.” 

Anakin’s eyes stung with unshed tears. The Queen spoke nothing but the truth, all things he didn’t want to hear. He was worthless, and he didn’t matter. Not in the slightest. She took pity on him, and she made him better, but he still wasn’t good enough. He never was. 

“Guards?” She beckoned to the men waiting on the outskirts of the balcony. “Take him away from my sight. I don’t want my day to be ruined anymore.” 

“It will be done my Queen.” 

He wanted to lie there and die, when she wanted—no, forced him to live. He was a survivor after all. 

He just didn’t want to survive. 

“Looks like the Queen finally got tired of her toy,” A burly guard sneered as he threw Anakin into a cell, not his bedroom. Up until now, Anakin never thought he’d miss the plain walls of his old room. 

“About time.” 

“I wonder if she’d mind if I had a go at it? Just to teach it some manners.” 

“I wouldn’t,” The second guard warned. “It’s not worth the risk, not worth her wrath.” 

“Good point,” The first one agreed. Anakin swallowed his vomit.The stench of the room worse than any mine he had been to. “It’s not even that pretty. I don’t see why she keeps it around.” 

“It used to be a Jedi,” The other guard sneered, as he kicked Anakin down from behind. Anakin stumbled on his own weight. “He used to be very powerful, I believe. A general, too.” 

“Oh, how far the mighty fall.” The guards laughed, as the first one closed the cell door behind Anakin, locking it. The cell itself was filthy, covered in blood and dirt. In the corner, there was a bucket, for washing or relieving himself, Anakin didn’t know. 

Anakin grabbed his knees, and folded into himself. This, he decided, was going to be a long night. 

“Get up, you worthless piece of scum.” The same guards from yesterday were back. “The Queen wants to see you before you’re taken to the correction facility.” 

“No.” Anakin spat back. The guard’s face betrayed no emotion. 

“Mouthy, isn’t it? Grab it, and let’s go. The Queen must not be kept waiting.” 

“You’re right.” Two arms roughly grabbed Anakin, as if he barely weighed a feather. Their claws dug into his fragile skin, breaking the exterior. The blood from over his elbow dripped down his metal arm. He’d need a way to clean that, later. If it wasn’t taken from him, that was. The Queen surely wouldn’t let him keep it. Despite how much he hated it, it was a reminder of his past, something he rarely ever thought of. His mother always told him to look forward, and no matter how much it hurt to think of her, he’d honour her memory as best he could. 

(He tended not to think about the women, or the children screaming as he struck each and every one down. Innocent in their actions, guilty by association.) 

Dragged by his arms, Anakin was pulled up to the courtyard, and from there, the Queen’s throne room. 

“Anakin,” She called out, perched upon her throne, crown atop her head. “It’s wonderful to see you. I missed you so much.” 

No response. 

“You can put him down, he won’t harm anyone.” She ordered. Anakin dropped onto his stomach, and groaned. 

“Much better. Anakin,” She singsonged, stepping off her little platform, walking towards him. “Look me in the eyes, and tell me you won’t betray me again.” 

Anakin kept his head down, not daring to move. 

“Pet, we both know this won’t go well for you if you don’t listen to me. Do as I say.” 

“No.” A quiet, and simple word that echoed throughout the spacious room. 

“No?” She asked, her tone marked with utter disdain. “No? After all I’ve done for you? All I’ve given? Pet, I’m the only person who cares about you, and you wish to throw me away? For what? Some twi’lek? Togruta? You know better than this, don’t you? You are a smart one, right?” 

“Y-yes.” His voice shook, and he bit down on his lip. Hard. No more words. 

“Then do as I say. Tell me you’re loyal, and tell me you love me.” 

“I’m loyal,” He heard himself say, distantly. "My Queen." 

“And? Prove your worth, Anakin. Prove your value.” 

“I l-l-o…” He couldn’t say it, not without vomiting what little remains he had in his stomach up. The words were vile, and untrue, and he couldn’t bring himself to say what needed to be said. He couldn’t lie, he couldn’t betray his angel. Even if it was for his own survival, he couldn’t betray her. "I lo..." 

“Oh, Anakin, you were so close. So very close.” The Queen sighed, and clutched her heart, in mock sympathy. “Guards? Take him away. I want him transferred to the nearest, and best facility there is. Make him loyal, and make him pay. I have no more patience.” 

“As you wish, your Majesty.” The first guard smirked, an evil, wretched image. “It will be done with pleasure.” 

“Of course,” She smiled. “I have the utmost faith in my subjects.” 

She clutched Anakin’s face in her hands, leaving claw marks on the rough skin. “I know you don’t believe it now, but this is for your own good. I can’t have my pet be disobedient, can I? When you come back, you will thank me. They always do.” 

Anakin glared at her, but said nothing as he was dragged away. 

“When we’re done with you,” The guard whispered into his ear. “She might not even recognize you.” 

That was enough for Anakin. He struggled against their grip, and moved his mouth to bite them. They had to move out of the way, lest he actually sink his teeth in. 

“My Queen!” The doors burst open, a strong gust of wind blowing Anakin’s unruly hair out of his face. A young Zygerrian guard ran in, panting as he stopped in front of the Queen. Anakin’s guards stopped their movements, instead choosing to watch and discover what the fuss was about. 

“What is it?” The Queen snapped, as she looked over her claws. 

“The Republic…” The man took a deep breath. Anakin’s heart stopped beating in his chest, leaving him dead in his tracks. What about the Republic? 

“What?” The Queen hissed. 

“They’re sending a fleet this way.” The man said, eyes wide. “The commander told me to inform you.” 

“What? That’s impossible; the Republic is in a war with the Separatists, they can’t spare a single squadron.” 

“No...they just signed a treaty, or an armistice of some sorts.” 

Anakin’s jaw dropped. The Republic and the Separatists called a temporary truce. He never thought he’d live to see the day. His men could be free. The Jedi could be peacekeepers again, and his Padawan...Ahsoka could get a proper education. His angel...Padmé would be thrilled. 

“Continue speaking, boy. Explain.” The Queen’s patience wore thin. 

“They signed a temporary truce after the Chancellor opened peace negotiations. The Republic, they’re coming for us. For you.” 

The Queen’s normally serene facade dropped. “Why? We haven’t done anything wrong. We are a neutral planet, we do not concern them.” 

“They’re coming for their citizens.” 

“The togrutas? There was never any proof we took them. They won’t get the necessary bill passed. The senate is as foolish as it is ineffective.” 

“No,” The boy paused. “It’s for him. They have pictures...” 

There was no mistaking who the boy spoke of. Everyone turned and faced Anakin. The Queen looked positively furious, steam practically coming out of her head. Hope was fleeting, always coming and always leaving, but right now, Anakin could finally grasp it. His family, his friends, they were coming to rescue him. He was getting out of here, he was finally leaving. 

“How did they get the proof of such accusations? Don’t they know it could be doctored? I kept the information closely guarded...Evian! That snake. He sold us out, he betrayed me. His friend, Kair, must’ve taken the holographs.” 

“What are we going to do, your Majesty?” 

“Prepare the combatants, prepare the slaves. If the Republic wants a fight so badly, they’re going to get one.” 

“What about him, my Queen?” Anakin gulped as the Queen turned her hawk-like gaze onto him. Her mind was unraveling, moving at speeds which she could not keep up with. 

“Send him away. Now. They won’t find him here.” 

And just like that, hope left him, once again. She meant to hide him away, make it so that he’d never be found. They’d come looking for him, only to find nothing but a ghost, a dead end. 

“As you wish.” 

“You’re doomed.” Anakin yelled, deliriously gleeful, as he got pulled down the halls. The guards made no motion to cover his mouth. His metal arm had been detached, and so his right arm was but a stump. Not ideal, but he couldn’t do anything about it. Besides, nothing mattered anymore. Not really. “Your empire will die out, and where will you be?” 

“I will still be above you, Pet. Do not mock me." 

Anakin smirked, a familiar feeling of confidence, something he hadn’t felt in a long time, returning. “Sure you will.” 

Chapter Text

Like every clone in the army, Rex had been trained since birth, with the objective of becoming the best soldier possible. His whole life had led up to his enlistment. His whole life was his enlistment. 

Be it fate, or destiny, by some miracle, he was placed in the 501st. His legion was his home, as far as he was concerned. His General was kind, and brave. Exactly what was needed to lead his men. 

It all changed after that one mission to Zygerria. After being freed, and sent back to Coruscant, Rex tried to inquire about General Skywalker, only to be shut down every time. Some small, aggressive part of Rex’s brain wasn’t surprised when they declared him dead. His heart broke, but he needed to be strong not only for himself, or Ahsoka, who’d just lost her master, but for his men. For the Republic. 

His loyalty didn’t waver when his General died, it didn’t waver when his men were split up, effectively ending the 501st. He didn’t have any traitorous thoughts when being denied access to Ahsoka, who was grieving. He practically begged the Jedi council, asking to see her again. They all refused his request, even Master Kenobi himself, who should’ve understood. 

He hasn’t seen the mini Jedi in quite some time, around two years. He’s been to many different units, and legions in that time. He even got promoted to Commander, something every clone wanted. 

“Ay, Commander?” Fives asked. At least some of the 501st had been kept together. After the incident with General Krell, his men weren’t as receptive to any new command, as the Jedi would’ve preferred. 

“The Admiral wants you on the bridge. Something about a transmission, or something.” 

“Alright, I’ll be there in a second,” Rex responded. 

“I’ll tell them,” Fives rubbed the back of his neck. An easy smile on his face, yet it didn’t reach his eyes. 

Ever since that one mission...everyone changed. For better, or for worse, Rex didn’t want to know. He grabbed his helmet, and walked towards the bridge, not sure what to expect. His men had just finished their mission, they were originally supposed to head home to Coruscant, as a vacation of sorts. 

“Admiral, what is it?” 

“The war is over.” The officer answered. The man wasn’t one to play practical jokes on the men. Maybe he didn’t know how to? As far as Rex knew, this wasn’t very funny. 

 “I’m sorry, could you repeat that?” 

“Temporarily, the Republic and the Confederacy called a truce. Both sides are to cease all attacks or missions.” 

“Why?” Why did the Separatists suddenly just..stop? It made no sense, logically. 

Rex had seen clones torn apart by those clankers, endless and needless bloodshed. If the separatists could just stop whenever, why didn’t they stop earlier? Rex wasn’t a political sort of guy, he stuck to the straightforward clear things in life, and the intricate lies woven by politicians were not included in that. He’d seen so much death in his life, he didn’t think he’d ever be able to live without the constant bloodshed. In some, the promise of a warrior’s death was comforting. Clones like him were bred to die, and that’s what they did.

The Separatists couldn’t just stop, not until they stopped them. Could they? Were they allowed to just stop, and cease fire? It didn’t seem real; Dooku wouldn’t just give up and surrender. There had to be something else happening behind the scenes to force his hand. 

“Dooku called a truce?” Rex asked, astounded. The Count was a stiff, stubborn man, and set in his ways. Rex highly doubted this wasn’t an elaborate ruse. The Seppies would do something underhanded like this; Rex just knew it. They’d get the Republic to lower their guard, and then they’d strike. Rex wasn’t going to let that happen. He wasn’t going to let himself hope, only for his dreams to be crushed. 

Not again. 

“Not exactly,” The Admiral took a deep breath, and scanned the bridge, as if afraid to give the information to Rex. “Count Dooku was assassinated.” 

“What?” That was impossible. It had to be. “How did that even happen, sir?” 

“No one knows for sure. Some say he died of old age, choking on his own saliva in his sleep.” The officer paused. “Some say a Jedi murdered him while he slept, using their powers.” 

“A Jedi wouldn’t do something like that, sir.” Rex answered, almost instinctively. “It goes against the code.” 

“The evidence says otherwise, but I digress, Commander. You, better than anyone, know of the Jedi and their powers. Are you saying it’s impossible that one went rogue and slaughtered the man?” 

“With all due respect sir,” Rex frowned, slightly uncomfortable with the drastic turn this conversation took. “A Jedi wouldn’t do that.” 

“If you say so, Commander.” The man hummed, seemingly content with Rex’s answer, not that it mattered. “Go inform the men. We’re going on our next mission.” 

“Next mission? I thought you said the fighting was over,” Rex repeated. The admiral contradicted himself, and it only confused Rex even more. “Sir?” 

“Ah, yes. The fighting with the separatists is over. We’re heading to Zygerria.” 

“Why are we going to that hell-hole?” Zygerria, probably Rex’s least favourite planet he’s ever visited. A disgusting planet filled with vile creatures. Those who went there almost never escaped. It was nothing short of a miracle that Rex was standing here right now. General Skywalker hadn’t even survived, and he was a Jedi. Rex was a clone, easily replaceable. It should’ve been him. 

“Commander, surely you aren’t so far removed from the media? It’s been on the headlines of...well, everything.” 

“I don’t check the news, sir. No need, nor time.” 

“Ah, I guess that explains why you didn’t know about the ceasefire. Anyways, we’re on a reconnaissance mission, Commander. We’re heading to Zygerria to retrieve your old General.” 

Rex’s heart stopped, and his mouth hung open. Not fit for a soldier, but he couldn’t help it. “They found his body?”

Rex had seen a lot of things over the course of the war—over the course of his whole life —he still had nightmares, seeing his brother’s dead bodies piled atop of each other. Some days, he couldn’t help but hate the Republic for using them as fodder, other days he was just thankful to be alive. His life was anything but natural. 

“No, you misunderstand. He’s alive, Commander Rex.” 

General Skywalker was alive? All this time, he’d thought his General dead, only to find he wasn’t. Relief shot through Rex like a bullet. Heavy, crushing guilt he didn’t know he had, was lifted off his shoulders. For two years, he’d believed he failed his General. 

“He...he’s been alive the whole time?” Rex asked, his voice didn’t waver, but it was a damn near thing. “On Zygerria?” 

“Yes,” The admiral answered swiftly, not missing a beat. “According to the information, anyway.” 

The General was alive. It wasn’t completely settling in. Essentially, if Rex thought about this in the right way, he’s been living in the dark for two years. 

Two years is a long time. For a clone, at least. It’s nothing short of a miracle, that he’s still here, breathing. Many of his brothers had died in a pointless war, and he hadn’t been able to stop it, and the exact same thing happened to his General. 

Except, he could save his General. 

“Shall I go inform the men?” Rex asked. 

“Yes,” A pause. “We leave immediately.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

Time to inform the men. 

“Fives, prepare the troops. We head out as soon as possible.” 

“Commander?” Fives dropped his helmet, which he’d been admiring. “What did the admiral say?” 

“We’re heading to Zygerria.” Rex slung his hand blaster to his side. “Immediately.” 

“Zygerria, sir?” The other clone asked. “Why?” 

“We have a general to save.” 

“...What?” 

Rex smiled, as he looked at his brother. “You heard me, soldier. Ready the troops.”

“I’m sorry sir, I don’t...understand?” 

“Check the news, Fives.”

“But...how would you know, Commander? You don’t check the news, either.” 

Rex fought the urge to wink. “Call it..intuition.” 

“We have one mission today, men. And we will not fail. The Republic is counting on us.” 

“Is it true the war is over?” 

“Yes,” Rex answered. The many clones left of the 501st were mixed in with other small legions, and together, they formed a sort of makeshift team. “The clankers won’t be a problem for us anymore.” 

“What will happen to us?” Jesse asked, voicing all of their thoughts aloud. What would happen to the clone army once the war was over? Unfortunately, they didn’t have to wait too long to find out. 

Rex frowned. He didn’t know, and he had no desire to offer false platitudes. “I’m not entirely sure, soldier. It’s up to the senate, although I believe Senators like Amidala will try and help us.” 

“If the war’s really over, why are we being deployed on another mission?” 

“This mission has little to do with the Seppies. This is a reconnaissance mission. We’re saving a Jedi.” 

“Which one? Vos?”

A deep breath. “Skywalker.” 

“Skywalker?!”

“He’s dead, isn’t he?”

“The General’s still kicking? Hah, time to pay up-” 

“Wonder if Kenobi knows..they were pretty close, if the tabloids were to be believed.”

"You saw how close they were first-hand? What do you mean 'tabloids?'" 

“Is the Commander coming back? I mean, not you, Commander, but Commander Tano. Not that you’re a bad commander, Commander.” 

“Alright, listen up.” Rex’s voice echoed, and carried over the other clones. They silenced themselves, eager to hear what Rex had to say. “This is a top secret mission. The press already knows about his survival, but we need to keep this under wraps. Not that any of you would compromise it, anyway, but this is just an added precaution. We can’t afford to waste any time. We leave….NOW. Go!” 

The ship was on course for Zygerria. The plans were to meet up with a Jedi and Padawan team on the way, so they had more firepower. (Secretly, Rex hoped for Padawan Tano, and Master Kenobi, but he didn’t want to get his hopes up for the inevitable disappointment.)  The added force users along with the extra men would only help their cause. 

The goal today wasn’t only to rescue the General, but an invasion. With proof of the Zygerrian ruler holding a Republic citizen hostage, and no Seppies, the Republic had a whole army to use.
And they were going to. 

“Rex!” In two years, Rex hadn’t ever thought he’d see the young Jedi ever again. Ahsoka Tano, like Anakin Skywalker, was a thing of his past. Even if he tried to get in contact with her, it wouldn’t matter; the Council would deny every request. Rex could understand, after all, he was just a disposable clone, and his inherent incompetence had cost them one of their own. He’d accepted his fate, accepted that he was never going to talk to his Commander again. It was what it was. 

Even if he tried reaching out through Cody, it would end in failure. He’d been beyond pleasantly surprised when the Admiral revealed which legion would be joining them. It only made sense, if he thought about it. The 212th were not a force to be messed with. 

“Commander Tano?” The togruta full on sprinted towards him, General Kenobi grumbling behind her. 

“Rex.” She smiled. She’d grown quite a bit since he last saw her, when she was a small child. Now, she was a slightly larger child. She wrapped her arms around him. “It’s been so long.” 

“That it has, Commander.” 

“Aren’t you a Commander, too?” She poked his shoulder. “We’re the same rank. Although, I probably outrank you because of my sheer prowess and power or something.” 

Rex laughed. “In my books, experience outranks everything.” 

“Well, you’ve got the experience and rank to back you up this time,” Ahsoka smirked. “Next time? I’m going to be a General, just you watch.” 

“I’m sure you will be.” He’s missed this, he realized. Just, talking with his friend. His brothers were always with him, but there was the need to be an individual. Over the past two years, he hadn’t really had time to think, and when he did, he’d rather not. Thinking never did him any wonders. Not when it was about something other than battle strategies. “I saw you on the holonews.” Partial truth, he did see her in some articles, but he made sure to avoid those ones. They always hurt the most. 

“Hah. I hate those tabloids. You know, once, they said Skyguy and I were a thing? Disgusting. He’s my brother! And like...ancient. Besides, he had his whole thing with Senator Amidala, and I ain’t no homewrecker.” 

“Ahsoka.” Rex could recognize a forced smile when he saw it. “Stop antagonizing the Commander.” 

Ah, good ol’ General Kenobi. Always the voice of reason, in the chaos. 

“‘ Stop antagonizing the Commander,’ do you know how condescending that sounds?” 

“Even things spoken with condescension have a purpose.” 

“The Jedi order already has enough weird old men. Don’t give into the pressure, Master Kenobi.” 

Rex simply smiled, even if he felt slightly out of place. Maybe, Cody should be here instead. 

“Anyways, this ship is already on course for the correct system, right?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Excellent. Lead me to the Admiral, we’re going to get Anakin back, and we’re going to do it efficiently.” 

“Of course, sir.”