Chapter Text
It was cold, and she couldn't open her eyes. Everything had passed in a blur.
Flashes of blasters and screams forced themselves to the forefront of her memory. The scent of fresh, metallic, deadly blood penetrated her brain, stripping away her ability to think. Everything had been so sudden, so overstimulating. And then, following a succession of catastrophic events that she couldn't quite separate in her head just yet, came a freezing, dark chill, and life in the middle of absolute nothingness.
The limbo.
But in the midst of all that cosmic cold, a spark of warmth flared open for the first time in a span of time that felt both infinite and nonexistent. Her lungs filled, her ears registered sound, and her instincts reawakened for the first time in what felt like forever. And just as everything had ended, everything rushed back to life once more.
There was too much noise around her, and she still didn't want to open her eyes, preferring to get used to the feel of her own skin little by little before facing whatever the Force decided to throw in her face next. Her hand clenched tightly around the familiar scarf she had gripped before the world went dark, the one that still retained a faint scent of the omega who had trained her. There were so many sounds all around, and she felt as if her eyes were spinning behind her closed lids. She could perceive many distinct presences around her; conscious, moving, potentially dangerous beings surrounding her person. Her weapons were gone. Those lightsabers were her life, and after having already lost her life once, it felt entirely logical not to have them at hand. What a terrible alpha she had turned out to be. How disappointed they would have been to see how she ended up.
Taking a deep breath, and with a deep-seated dread, she slowly blinked her eyes open. Before her, several Mandalorian helmets bunched together, their focus locked tightly on her. The armor was deeply familiar, yet still impersonal in a way too complicated to put into words. The carbonite had frozen time for her; the only thing she knew was that she knew nothing. Ten days or ten years could have passed. She couldn't be sure if these people were still the allies she had found before, or if they had surrendered to the shadow she had seen rising over her Republic.
The young woman frowned deeply, and gathering every bit of strength she knew she didn't have, she tensed, ready for a fight. Better to ask for forgiveness than permission, he had taught her, and she had already left him behind once. Everything of him that still existed inside her, she would hold onto and keep alive. She would no longer ignore the voice that treated her with affection and sternness in equal measure, the voice that told her what to do in difficult moments and taught her with the hope of making her capable of survival, and worthy of stability. She wouldn't let go of him again, even if he now only existed inside her head.
She reached deep within herself, ready to grasp the Force to protect herself. Her posture was that of a warrior, because above all else, that was what she was. It didn't matter if she died right here; Palpatine would never use her for his sinister ends. She would leap, and she would take down as many of them as she could. It didn't matter if she threw herself straight into the jaws of death, at least it would free her from her—
“Ahsoka Tano!” a booming voice called out.
Ahsoka snapped her head around instantly. Through all the fog and the raw instinct urging her to roar and tear things apart inside, through all the pain, the disorientation, and the distrust, that voice was familiar. If that woman was still leading the Mandalorians, there was no doubt her intention wasn't to kill her. If Bo-Katan Kryze wanted her dead, she would be already.
“Bo-Katan,” Ahsoka replied, her voice raspy, her throat aching from disuse.
Tano watched the alpha approach her with a confident, steady stride. She analyzed her face in the brief moments it took. She remembered a fair-skinned, firm woman with a sharp, fiery gaze, full of life. What she saw now was a weary Mandalorian, consumed by rage and desperation. Her expression lines had deepened, perhaps from the years, perhaps from the worry and the myriad of sleepless nights she must have endured. There were streaks of gray in her copper hair that mirrored those her own Grand-Master had once carried. Her shoulders seemed more slumped, and her weathered armor spoke volumes about the state of their equipment as a whole. Mandalore's best years were gone, and apparently, they hadn't managed to recover since she was frozen.
“It is a pleasure to see your face once more. Please, come. I'll get you a glass of water, if you can walk, that is,” the woman said. Her excessive kindness felt entirely out of place to Ahsoka for a warrior so fierce, and the way she gently placed a hand on her shoulder, with such delicacy, threw her off. Despite that, her throat parched violently, so she had no choice but to nod and follow the other woman,but not before clutching the scarf to her waist, keeping it close to her body, as secure as it should be.
Bo-Katan was courteous enough to show her the facilities along the way. She gave her time to process what was happening, but Ahsoka couldn't help but notice that the Mandalorian was waiting to tell her something. She studied her closely for a moment; Kryze seemed tense, perhaps even anxious. She kept shifting her weight, her eyes darting around. Her behavior was unusual, and Ahsoka needed to know what she was up against. She had already concluded that they wouldn't rescue her out of pure kindness and charity, so there had to be an ulterior motive hidden beneath it all.
“What is it, Bo-Katan?” the young Togruta asked.
Bo-Katan’s face hardened, and a trace of anxiety flickered in her eyes. Even so, she let out a deep, weary sigh and didn't delay her answer.
“The truth is, Ahsoka, we need your help.”
“Mmm, I figured this reunion wasn't just for the pleasure of seeing an old ally. Either way, I didn't have much to catch up on; just a lot of carbonite and zero action.”
Bo-Katan looked at her with pity then, and Ahsoka hated it. She hated how, in a way, she knew that was what her life was going to become. Looks of pity and apologies for everything she had lost. And she didn't need any more of that; she had more than enough with her own self-pity.
Bo-Katan gently guided Ahsoka toward a nearby seat. They sat down, and the Mandalorian finally prepared to explain.
“Ahsoka… I know this might be difficult. A lot has happened in the time you've been gone, and there really is too much to explain, but…”
“Just spit it out, Kryze.”
Bo-Katan held her gaze for a moment before breathing out through her nose and squaring her shoulders, as if preparing to face a long-feared enemy.
“Palpatine defeated the Republic. The Jedi have fallen, and your masters with them. Millions of powerful individuals, people who would have fought for the Republic, were frozen in carbonite and locked away in high-security vaults, separated and scattered across the galaxy. The Empire rose over us, millions have died in the last twenty-eight years, and—”
“Twenty-eight years?!” Ahsoka exclaimed. Suddenly, the world seemed to spin. If twenty-eight years had passed since she was frozen, her master would be in his late forties. And her Grand-Master would be in his fifties. That was if they were even alive. The Jedi Order had fallen; what had happened to Master Plo?! Master Yoda, or even Windu. Master Luminara, and Padmé. Oh, the young, passionate senator from Naboo must have been utterly heartbroken… What happened to Barriss? She had betrayed her, but Ahsoka didn't want her dead! And Rex and Cody? Fives, Echo, Vaughn, Jesse, her brothers. So many names raced through her mind, all vanishing like ash between her fingers as she felt her hands go numb and her shoulders grow heavier. Vertigo began to claw at her with greater intensity while she felt hot and cold simultaneously. Everything around her was wrong, wrong, all so very wrong. What did this woman want to tell her? Right now, she felt more like a stranger than anything. Everything seemed to grow darker as she forced herself to breathe because everything was so difficult. So, so difficult, and she just wanted to go back to that cold void. Anything would be better. It was all too much, and she just wanted to be nothing once again. She just wanted mom and dad. Why wasn't her mother there? Where is mom Anaki—
SLAP!
Ahsoka’s world came to a grinding halt. Everything narrowed down to the stinging burn on her cheek and the warmth of the tears she hadn't realized were spilling down her face until that very moment. Her gaze snapped to Bo-Katan, who, anxious as she already was and not knowing what else to do, had struck her. The woman gripped her jaw tightly, forcing her to look her in the eyes.
“Listen to me, Tano. We have all lost in this war, we are right there with you on that. But I need you to listen to me! You feel like you've lost your purpose, and that you've lost your world. You feel like you have no one, and nowhere to go. And you're right about all of that, except for one thing. You lost everything, and so did we. Everything except something to live for. Because we are all here to avenge what they tore out of our hands. We are here to defend the memory of those who are gone, and to fight for the future we should have had. You are a warrior. You are a soldier. You will live another day so that the galaxy can one day see the dawn your loved ones would have wanted. That is the only way to honor them, Ahsoka.”
Ahsoka stared into Bo-Katan’s eyes, and in them, she saw the truth this woman had clung to for years. Ahsoka knew the Mandalorian firmly believed what she was saying; her eyes reflected this deeply rooted faith as clear as water, but she also knew it didn't have to become her own reality. Anakin had been many things in her life. He was temperamental and unpredictable, and yes, often vengeful. But the omega recognized his flaws, and like any parent honoring his role in a pup’s life, he wanted her to be better than him. For that very reason, he always strove to pull her away from that dark path, drumming into her that vengeance was a useless, empty concept. She would not follow that trail. She would be everything they had taught her to be, everything that felt right in her heart.
She would be a protector.
A Skywalker.
“You must join us, Ahsoka. For them. For revenge. You must join the Mandalorian resistance. We will strike the Imperial forces, we will destroy Sidious. The return of a Jedi like you will crush them; the remnants of your brothers and sisters will rise. It will be a massive blow to the Emperor; you will be the symbol of the rebellion! We could even reclaim Mandalore. This is why we thawed you from the carbonite; you were our ally once before, help us one more time, Ahsoka Tano. Let us win this war together,” Bo-Katan said, her voice now steadier and more resolute, nearly regaining the fierce certainty she was once known for.
Silence reigned in the empty room for a moment. Ahsoka took one last sip from her glass of water before answering. The young Togruta gently interlaced her hands with the Mandalorian's, more to control the lingering tremor in her own fingers than to offer any real comfort, and she didn't wait much longer to speak.
“Bo-Katan, I am deeply grateful for your rescue, truly. But I am not going to fight for you. Not anymore, at least, not like this. I—”
“What?!”
“I can't do it this way, alright? If there are more Jedi alive—”
“What in the kriff are you talking about?! You must fight!”
“I have to save them! That is what my—”
“You are a disappointment to your masters!”
The room was plunged once more into a sepulchral silence. The air turned cold and suffocating, and Ahsoka felt as though her stomach were dropping straight to the floor, her heart sinking right along with it.
“Bo-Katan, I…”
“Lady Kryze, the Rebel Alliance has reported success on the rescue mission of High Jedi General Obi-Wan Kenobi. They are requesting your report, ma'am,” a Mandalorian reported, entering the room abruptly.
Both women snapped up instantly, though their reasons couldn't have been more different. Bo-Katan went rigid, all her anger draining away as a hollow, cold dread washed over her body. Her prior anxiety peaked as she realized everything was playing out entirely against her plan. Tano wasn't supposed to know her master was alive, not yet. She hadn't convinced her to stay yet; she hadn't locked her into a commitment fast enough. Now, not only would Kenobi take her away, but the girl would be furious with her for hiding the fact that her Grand-Master was alive. The girl would tear her apart at the first opportunity, she was certain of it.
On the other hand, something inside Ahsoka’s chest finally sparked to life. In the end, maybe Bo-Katan had been right about one thing. There was still something left to live for, and she wouldn't let anyone rip it away from her. With that, Ahsoka bared her sharp, white fangs in a grim smile at Satine Kryze’s sister, and despite still feeling like she was about to vomit, she spoke in a calculated, threatening tone.
“Take me to my Master, Bo-Katan. He and I have a lot to talk about, and I’m sure you and I can sort things out later.”
A bitter, furious resignation settled deep in Bo-Katan Kryze’s chest. Her shoulders slumped in defeat as she guided the former Jedi toward the holocomms room, where she would finally be reunited with her Grand-Master after twenty-eight years apart.
The galaxy was not ready for what was coming, and if Ahsoka clutched the scarf around her waist more tightly as soon as she saw her Grand-Master again, no one but her had any reason to know that.