Chapter Text
Trace Martez has always been a dreamer. She may have been born kilometers below them but she’s always had her head up in the clouds. I should know, I know her better than anybody. That’s why I’m telling this story.
That particular afternoon she was dreaming of her Silver Angel , as usual. Her head wasn’t only in the clouds but soaring above them on its way to the hyperlanes. Last thing she expected was for an orange angel to come swooping into the mech bay. That’s probably how she’d describe it. An orange angel crash landed from up above with a singed and broken wing. Everyone feel sorry for her. Broken compressor and blown repulsor, more like it. Crashed her bike and nearly made herself a smear across our property. Wouldn’t be the first Jedi galavanting around the portal.
Trace got off on the right foot initially, letting her know her bike was absolute trash. But the damage was done. Ahsoka Tano had already wriggled those hips around pushing her hunk of junk around. Got those head tail things flailing all come hither. She started working on her right away. “Oh, I can’t have you fix my bike, I have no money!” and “Oh, I just need some tools, thank you. But no money to rent them with! Oh, woe is me,” You get the idea. I raised Trace to be hard, but she has a soft heart. I’m sure Ahsoka used that mind reading juju on her playing on her sympathies. If I had only been there, I would have sent her off right away, let me tell you. Would have saved us so much trouble.
Why are you telling this part if you weren’t there?
I know exactly what went on, because of the security feeds. You think I’d just let my sis work alone with the bay doors open in this neighborhood? Estúpido . That’s how I know she got right to grifting sis from the jump. Once she got a good look at the Silver Angel I bet she was planning her free ride out of there. She wasn’t riding away on that junker of a bike. She starts moping and looking out into the departing freighters to get Trace to scrape the carbon deposits off her sparker, getting her engine going. I’m hard on her, but she is an absolute genius with repair work. She takes after mom like that.
Now, why didn’t Ahsoka just come clean at this point about the Jedi thing? Like, what’s the worst that would have happened. Everything would have gone differently at that point. I would have definitely known not to trust her.
You know why she didn’t tell her.
Oh? Do you know me so well, caçador ? Or her?
She was hoping neither of you had seen her wanted poster a few days earlier.
Yeah? Is that what she told you? Eh? Are all you clones so chummy with Tano? Yeah, I thought so. Then after she baits the hook with her fallen upper city angel sob story she seals the deal waxing the floor with Pindu’s goons. Comes off like a real hero. And she gets right to driving a wedge between her and her loving sister. Tarnishing my good name and reputation.
Heh, what reputation?
Hey, I didn’t do anything wrong. I was in my laundromat the whole time. Being a responsible legitimate business owner. It isn’t called SO FRESH-SO FRESH for nothing, someone has to keep things fresh. I would’ve gotten Pindu his money eventually.
Trace wasn’t sure what it was about Ahsoka that made her so accommodating and charitable. Actually, a part of her brain was completely sure why, but she was ignoring it. Maybe it was a whiff of sadness about her. It clung to her like the scent of smoke and exhaust from her junker bike. Maybe Trace could sense her recent losses. How those big blue eyes looked off to the horizon echoing the Togruta’s trauma and sorrow. But really, it was her lips. So full and dark and Trace was sure if she could shrink down to one meiloorun tall and use Ahsoka’s lips as a sleeping palate, well that would solve a lot of her sleep problems. She could perish there happily, perhaps. Or better yet those lips may bring her the relief of the little death. The thought of that made her momentarily dizzy. She felt a tickle from her forehead down her chest and to her very core.
Yes, she would willingly let those lips be the death of her if the opportunity arose. So all her demands for payment were uncharacteristically blunted. She wanted to help her, so eventually before she realized what she was doing she was doing some pro bono labor on that sparker.
I mean, this girl was in trouble. Someone had to help her out. Ahsoka clearly knew how to repair bikes like this. The fact that she willingly bought the thing knowing the state of it reeked of desperation. And someone that pretty being that desperate would only lead to suffering down here. This Topsider needed someone looking out for them. Someone with street smarts. Someone like Trace. And she wanted to help. She wanted to see those lips smile just for her.
Just moments before she had opened with a genial, “I’m Trace.”
And acted so weird when Trace introduced herself. Maybe it was because she was looming over her as she knelt by her bike. Trace offered her hand, but Ahsoka did not take it until she stood up straight. Trace caught that first thousand-yard stare, like the way she introduced herself stirred a painful memory of a similar introduction.
“Ahsoka.” She had a hand on her hip. Trace was jealous that she could do that anytime she wanted. And so, the clumsy offers of hire. Only to be rebuffed. Ahsoka knew the Silver Angel was a Nebula Class, which earned her even more admiration in Trace’s eyes. She loved a girl who knew her ships. Who didn’t mind greasy hands. Who looked good in welding goggles.
When she asked about Trace helping her without too much pushback, she responded, “Shouldn’t I?” It just seemed like the right and proper thing to do. Her neighbors had given her and Rafa a hand when their parents died. Maybe Ahsoka was dealing with a similar situation. Surely, she had lost everything and was in unfamiliar surroundings. When the Martez sisters lost their folks they at least still retained the family garage. Their lifeline. While she didn’t like how Rafa was going about it, she did appreciate her running so many schemes to keep the garage going after all these years. In memory of their parents. And because it’s what Trace needed to heal and move on. Once the Silver Angel was complete, they could fully abandon all this and they’d no longer be living in a haunted ventilation shaft.
So, to honor her neighbors and the spirit of charity that helped her out years ago, Trace helped her.
And she smiled for her.
And she looked fantastic in those goggles.
But she didn’t like answering questions. With just the lightest of probing, Trace asking what she was running from, Ahsoka was ready to run from Trace.
She really had to harden up if she was going to make it in the Undercity. So, Trace fixed her sparker. Using her own tools, she was letting Ahsoka use de graça.
Trace made a feeble attempt to make her feel guilty, to disguise her intentions by implying that she just wanted to get rid of a miserable uninvited guest by fixing her ride. Rafa would want her to at least make an attempt. But Ahsoka didn’t seem to buy it. And Trace’s kindness prompted the tiniest hint of her former life. So perhaps it was worth it.
Trace wanted to know everything about her. She wanted to be near her. She wanted to know what her favorite sweet treat was, and to share it with her at the marina. Just any way that would keep her rubbing up against Ahsoka’s life would be worthwhile. If she only had the credits she would have taken Ahsoka for a night out on the town, showing her what Undercity life and her community was really about.
But she also wanted to share her dreams with Ahsoka. Which was cheaper than a night out on the town by far. Once Ahsoka got all defensive when Trace mentioned the Jedi, it was a good deflection to talk about her dreams of plying the hyperlanes as a tramp trader.
Who knows, maybe she’d make a decent first mate. Every Topsider she’d met knew how to fly. And Ahsoka had clear blue skies captured in her eyes. It was clear she could fly. She was miraculous.
And she hadn’t even beaten up Pindu’s goons yet.
Perhaps that was when Trace became truly smitten.
Her head was ringing, and her eye and cheek throbbed with pain. She’d gotten some good hits in on the goons herself, but they were cleaning her engine block in return. And there was Ahsoka looking so fresh and collected. When she caught the guy’s fist the energy in the room abruptly shifted. And Ahsoka had this look in her eyes. Such confidence, and like justice or something. It wasn’t a look Trace was accustomed to. It was a cop look, but like the ones in the Holos not the actual Undercity cops. They all wore masks for anonymity. No, this was a cop out for justice look in real life.
And then she whupped those big tall boys, somehow managing to kick one twice in mid air. Like she was some kind of Teräs Käsi master or something.
“I think you want to leave now.” There was steel in her voice, even if it was a little corroded and rusty.
And they did leave! For now. Pintu clearly was dead set on collecting on Rafa’s loan.
Then it was Ahoka’s turn to offer her hand, which Trace took without hesitation.
“Where’d you learn to fight like that?” Trace studied Ahsoka’s face and expression. She saw her look down at that one dimple that formed when Trace smiled, the opposite side of her lips as her birthmark. Maybe she liked Trace’s lips too?
“My older brother taught me.” And she was a million miles away suddenly. Again.
“Maybe you can teach me someday?” Trace automatically said this to wheel her in like a big fish. And it worked. She looked over at Trace and smiled. She was present again. Pleasant. Really pleasant, in fact. The way she leaned her head forward a little, her cute little chin tucked down, her eyebrow markings high making her eyes seem huge! She not only wanted to spend more time with Ahsoka, she wanted to be fully enveloped by her somehow. There was just this energy to her? This spirit? She wasn’t only brightly colored even in that drab denim overalls she just seemed to shine out in reality, you know? Trace wasn’t a poet. She was just a mechanic. But she knew how to appreciate a lady. Especially a tough scraper like Ahsoka. Maybe she wasn’t as lost and aimless as she first appeared.
“Come on, we gotta go tell my sister about Pintu.” Trace led the way out of the shop. She paused to set the security system after Ahsoka was out the door. That was one of Rafa’s projects that had actually paid off with dividends. She had left it off, hoping for walk-in customers, but all she got was that loan shark. But at least she could leave knowing the sec sys would keep any burglars out when they were gone.
“Your sister owed that guy money?” Ahsoka asked her, a little of the wariness returning.
“Yeah. She’s trying to keep her business afloat, so we can keep the garage. And the machines need a lot of expensive maintenance. Which pulls me away from my own projects. So, sometimes she needs a little something to keep the lights on both places. And there’s always a Pintu around the corner to offer.” Trace shrugged.
She could feel Ahoska’s eyes on her. Evaluating. For situational awareness and her own survival or for more earthy reasons of carnal desire? Trace could not tell. She hoped beyond hope that Ahsoka was into girls with narrow hips and flat bottoms. Trace tried to maintain a flattering wardrobe to make up for some of her shortfalls, but you never know. Some beings were into what she had to offer. She wasn’t as glamorous as Rafa, but Trace didn’t want to attract the sort of attention Rafa liked to attract. She wanted someone who was into her energy as it was. Who accepted her without hesitation or critique. Trace could only be who she was, and no one other.
Ahsoka sighed once she took her eyes off Trace. “Are there no legitimate ways to get a loan down here?”
Trace laughed. “You think the Banking Clan has offices in 1313? Or that they’d lend to someone like us?”
“I don’t know, I haven’t met your sister yet. Elder sister, I take it?” Ahsoka raised an eyebrow marking.
“Yeah. How’d you know?”
“I am a younger sibling too, remember? We can smell our own.”
Trace laughed once more, and she could feel her cheeks heating that had nothing to do with her black eye. “That we can? I hope I smell…” her brain misfired for a second. “Nice?”
Ahsoka smiled again and looked down at the dingy hallways. “What’s your sister’s business?”
“It’s a laundromat! Actually, the sign one of the old owners put up says ‘landomat’, whatever that means. But we’ve never bothered to change it.”
“I guess everyone needs their clothes washed, no matter where you are from.” They walked in silence for a time. “Does your sister use the laundromat as a front for other activities?”
“My dear Ahsoka, whatever gave you that impression?”
“My older brother used to loop me into his nonsense all the time. She got you beaten up. Do you feel like she has your best interests in mind?”
Trace crossed her arms. Her cheeks burned with more than pain and tissue inflammation. “You don’t know what it’s like down here. You have to hustle to get by, especially in wartime. Patience and community has worn thin. Trust, too. Legitimate work, such as it was, dried up and moved off-planet to be closer to the front lines.”
“There are always options.” Ahsoka retorted.
“Maybe to those with privilege.” Trace grumbled. She sorely didn’t want Ahsoka to keep talking, that would ruin everything. She wanted to have pleasant conversations with the girl. She wanted to see her smile and laugh. And she wanted to know all about her. What she liked, what she didn’t. What it took to earn her trust. To get closer. She wanted to be as close as possible.
The introductions with her sister did not go well at all. But Trace’s ears did perk up when Rafa called her an interesting creature. She had to agree, but knew this was Rafa’s way of teasing her sister. And probably testing her as well. And testing Ahsoka, because she was being teased as well. But, Ahsoka took it with grace and patience. She just hung back and waited as Rafa promised that yet another dubious job would be their ticket out of their current troubles. She just had to repair these droids.
That's how they ended up out back, by the dumpsters. Reassembling and repairing some binary load lifters. Trace tried to keep her eyes on her work, though it was hard with Ahsoka there helping her, lifting her arms above her head to affix a restraining bolt. It was hard not to admire those strong arms, the uptilt of her pretty little pug nose, her long, undoubtedly well-muscled torso.
And she was again, advising caution. Saying she’d had a lot of run-ins with dangerous droids. Trace thought she was reeling in the catch, but Ahsoka was clearly the one that had her hooks in Trace. She wanted to know ever more after every little smidge of information.
“You seem to know a lot about everything.” That must have been some fancy topside academy to have left Ahsoka so (and Trace appreciated the double entendre) well-rounded.
“Not everything.” Ahsoka countered. “I still don’t understand people.”
“What’s to know? There are good people, and bad people, and some are just cross-wired like this binary load lifter.”
She looked shocked for a moment. Then Ahsoka pouted and looked away, lost in her memories again. “Binary load lifter?… Wait a minute! I do know this type of droid.” The droid in question blarbled out some binary and tried to smash the Togruta with both huge fists. But of course she was too fast. She moved quickly and weightlessly like a fantasma. Trace was so relieved when Ahsoka prevented a final attack by activating the restraining bolt. She didn’t want anyone smashing Ahsoka but her.
Ahsoka tried to give Trace a history lesson on Type 2 binary load lifters, but it was unnecessary. It was obvious that they had been selected for salvage and reassembly because they were too unreliable and violent. That was the whole appeal.
Not to the two of them, of course. Trace would much rather these droids refrained from smashing them into a paste. Buy just her luck, the third one activated on her own and Ahsoka had been too distracting for her to get the bolt on it yet.
But instead of attacking it took out its frustrations on some nearby dumpsters, greatly disturbing the tookas that had been patiently waiting for them to finish so they could raid the dumpsters for trash. The droid hustled down the alley.
“No, no. No, no! Trace, that’s my droid. Where’s it going?”
Oh, great. Rafa caught her screwing up a job again. This was both the luckiest and worst day of her life, apparently. She tossed off some reassurances and trusted that Ahsoka was following behind her, repaying her charity with further assistance. Once the droid proved it could leap down several levels it became apparent that a foot chase was not the way to go about retrieval.
And so Ahsoka left Trace for the first time. At Trace’s insistence. She sent her back to the laundromat to get the tracking device that would allow them to find it no matter how fast it could run. And Trace left to hunt down a speeder.
It was a bad bet. Rafa tried over and over again to drill in the lesson that they couldn’t rely on anybody but each other. Everything Trace knew about topsiders said that Ahsoka would leave. Perhaps abandoning her lemon of a bike at her shop. Just walk away and never even think of Trace or Rafa ever again. But Trace took the bet anyway.
And Ahsoka did not let her down. Her heart soared. And then went back to beating a mile a minute because they had to subdue that demolition droid before it caused more damage. Damage down here, it was costly. There was no one that made repairs without good reason. And never for free. This wasn’t a place with things like functioning municipal services.
But she did manage to get the forklift tongs around the thing, with Ahsoka’s help. And when things went badly it was Trace who took the more dangerous role of grabbing ahold of the droid as it scaled the walls, going from walkway to walkway. She got the thing turned off, and again Ahsoka was there to catch her when she fell. Truly an orange angel.
Then, there was another argument with Rafa. Ahsoka again took the moral high ground. Because she was from high ground, Trace supposed. She was new here, Rafa was right. She wasn’t accustomed to how things were run down here. Yeah, they knew they were helping out some bad guys. But they were paying customers. And the sisters needed to eat. They needed a place to sleep. They needed to escape. And there was little legitimate opportunities these days.
Rafa was harsh, and probably shouldn’t have stuck her finger in Ahsoka’s face. But the Togruta kept her ego in check and knew when a verbal sparring was unwinnable. She seemed to have excellent control over her temper, which she hadn’t quite managed to transfer to her sorrow. Trace tried to mediate. And when Rafa told her she’d do the right thing she knew that she meant the right thing for them . Not necessarily the right thing in this beautiful stranger’s eyes. But, it was the end of the argument. Which was most welcome.
She told Rafa to be smart. And asked Ahsoka to accompany her to the wharf. Because she should and could show her some of the sights of her sector. She could spare a meal for all the help she selflessly gave them, and for the danger they had faced.
They used to have oceans on Coruscant. And lakes. This was just a water reclamation pool. Reclaimed water that used to run through the sewers. But, it was as close to a waterside retreat as you can get down here. And the restaurant had good food.
Ahsoka glanced at the splotchy concealer that Trace used to conceal her black eye. “Do you ever get a say with Rafa?”
“She’s my older sister.” Trace shrugged. “She doesn’t always get it right but I know she’s trying to make things better for us.”
“Yeah, my older brother was like that. He made some real wild decisions when the people he loved were in trouble.” She looked down again. A corner of her lips tensed and she was lost in memories once more. “Oftentimes his solutions only led to more trouble.”
“Who knew there were grifters topside as well.” Trace smiled.
“I know they both mean well.” Ahsoka frowned, then looked up at her. “But at what cost?”
Trace didn’t have an answer for that. But Rafa came to her rescue and took some of the heat off her. She’d gone through with the deal. And even scored more profit off of their inconvenience and exposure to danger. Trace knew that she would likely have another argument over Rafa’s behaviour later. But at least for now the attention was off her. Which was a mixed blessing. Because she wanted Ahsoka’s attention. She craved it.
At least Pintu was paid off. She wouldn’t get knocked around again. At least not by Pintu’s men. Of course, that was Rafa’s fault in the first place, so it was the least she could do, making that right.
Rafa offered her a cut of the proceeds for new tools. And Trace looked over at Ahsoka before she took and pocketed the credits. She knew seeing her expression would hurt, seeing Trace concede to her sister’s behavior. But she needed the funds for the Silver Angel . Surely, she could be brought around to understand that. Maybe they could remain friends. She just had to get used to life around here.
Ahsoka and Rafa stared daggers at each other. But the Togruta did not press any further objections. And Rafa left.
“I’d better go finish my speeder.” Her voice was pitched up. Trace found that endearing.
“You’re not sticking around?” Would she leave before she even finished their meal? Trace knew this wasn’t a date. It was just a favor. But it was the best she could provide. It was the best she could offer Ahsoka. And she didn’t want this night to end, date or not.
“I think it’s for the best.” Ah, Ahsoka didn’t approve of her lifestyle. She was perhaps hinting that this wasn’t going to work out. Trace’s heart dropped to her sneakers.
And she left without Trace.
Trace’s heart went from her shoes to her throat. She allowed herself only a moment of self-pity, then she called out after her. “Hey.” Her voice was soft, and uncharacteristically hesitant. But Ahsoka turned to look back at her. With those big blue eyes. Those sloped curving montrals. Her side lekku draped over her chest, hanging almost to her belt. Those big red-brown lips in a slight pout. She was gorgeous. “Thanks for saving me out there.” If Trace could just remind her of what they’d been through that day, maybe she could see Trace needed her. Needed to steal her away to fly on the Silver Angel . Ahsoka didn’t approve of life in the undercity? So what? Neither did Trace, if she told the truth. They could both get away. Trace could help her get on her feet, if only she knew how miraculous she seemed in Trace’s opinion.
They could be together. They could be happy.
Ahsoka nodded. “You’re welcome.” And gave her a slight smile that just lifted Trace out of her seat.
“Now let’s get that speeder working.” She pushed in her chair. “Come on.” And she put her hand on Ahsoka’s shoulder. Her back lekku was warm and squishy against her arm. She led her back to the restaurant’s entrance, and to the main avenues leading back to the mech shop. “I hope you aren’t in too much a hurry to leave, so soon after making a friend.”
“We’re friends now.” It was an affirmation. An acceptance. Not a question. Which warmed up Trace’s innards. Then Ahsoka sighed. And she was far away again. “I’m not good at making friends.”
“I find that hard to believe.” Trace scoffed.
“No, it’s true. I don’t stick around long enough, usually. Acquaintances are easy. Allies are easy. True friends, however.” She swallowed and looked at the pathway again. “I have not been so lucky. Or I pick them wrong, I suppose.”
“If I was your friend, I wouldn’t mistreat you.”
“I thought you were my friend.” Ahsoka teased.
“And have I mistreated you?” Trace’s brows knit and she squeezed Ahsoka’s shoulder. “Did someone hurt you? Is that why you ran down from there?”
Ahsoka stumbled slightly in a misstep. And was quiet for a time. But eventually responded. “Yes. Someone betrayed my trust. A lot of people did. And it hurts. So I couldn’t stay up there anymore. I don’t know what I’m doing. And I don’t know where I am going. All I know is that I can’t face the friends I have left just yet. The ones that didn’t let me down. It’s all too raw.”
“I’m sorry, Ahsoka.” Trace ruminated on this for a while. “I’m glad you aren’t pushing me away. I am glad you care enough to give advice.”
“Unwanted advice.” Ahsoka smiled.
“I want your advice.” Trace nodded. “You… you seem wise and well-traveled. I can sense you know what you’re talking about. You just lack some context with how things work down here.”
“Well then maybe you can give me some advice as well, friend.” And she smiled.
And Trace was in bliss.
She never wanted Ahsoka to leave.