Work Text:
Anakin has no fears.
He has concerns, obviously. Tactical concerns. Reasonable concerns. The occasional deeply specific concern involving Padmé, the Senate, secret marriage laws, and whether Rex has started noticing how often Anakin volunteers for Coruscant assignments.
Those aren’t fears.
Fear is unbecoming of a Jedi Knight, especially the Hero with No Fear, which is still a ridiculous title but sounds impressive when shouted by reporters from a safe distance.
Anakin is explaining this to Obi-Wan over the comm when Rex ruins everything.
“I have no fears,” Anakin says, leaning back in the chair at the head of the Resolute’s briefing table.
Obi-Wan’s hologram folds its arms.
“You’re scared of mynocks.”
“I’m not scared of mynocks. I don’t like them.”
“You screamed when one landed on your head.”
“It surprised me.”
“You attempted to stab it with your lightsaber while it was still attached to your head.”
“It was an aggressive response to an aggressive act.”
“It was eating the power cable.”
“It knew what it was doing.”
Across the table, Rex isn’t listening.
The captain sits with one boot hooked around the leg of his chair, staring at a datapad with the intense concentration he usually reserves for tactical maps and casualty projections. His helmet rests beside his elbow, revealing short blonde hair that has somehow become more disordered during a stationary briefing.
Anakin notices because Rex’s been silent for nearly six minutes.
Rex doesn’t stay silent during arguments between Anakin and Obi-Wan unless he’s asleep, unconscious, or gathering information that will later be used against one of them.
“What are you reading?” Anakin asks.
Rex scrolls down.
“Togruta development patterns.”
Anakin looks toward the observation window.
Ahsoka is in the adjacent hangar, running through a forward-scouting exercise with three shiny troopers. Her lightweight headband frames her blue-and-white chevroned montrals and lekku, while the narrow HUD lenses attached near her temples protect her sensitive eyes from the hangar lights.
She’s crouched on top of a parked gunship.
The shinies haven’t found her yet.
One of them is checking beneath a supply cart.
Anakin looks back at Rex. “Why?”
“The commander asked Kix why her eyes are changing color.”
Anakin frowns. “Her eyes are blue.”
“They’re developing a yellow ring around the pupils.”
He has noticed that, actually. The gold is subtle, a thin line visible when the light catches her eyes directly. Anakin had assumed it was another Togruta thing Ahsoka understood and he didn’t.
There're many of those.
Her hearing range is absurd. Her teeth are sharper than most humanoids’. She can track movement through air currents, smell adrenaline, and detect living creatures in darkness better than some military scanners.
Anakin discovered the last ability after trying to surprise her during training.
He still has the bite mark.
“Apparently,” Rex continues, “adult Togruta eyes often shift toward gold or yellow depending on native region.”
“That’s interesting.”
“It was.”
Rex scrolls again.
Anakin recognizes the warning signs of a datapad spiral. It begins with one harmless question, travels through several linked articles, and ends four hours later with someone reading an agricultural study about grain mites on a moon they’ve never heard of.
“What else did you find?” Anakin asks.
Rex glances up.
“Commander Tano’s species has several developmental stages that aren’t obvious to Humans.”
Obi-Wan’s hologram looks interested. “Such as?”
“Their montrals continue growing through adulthood, which improves their spatial awareness and long-range perception.”
“That explains why she keeps winning hide-and-seek against the shinies,” Anakin says.
Rex looks toward the hangar.
One of the troopers walks directly beneath Ahsoka.
She reaches down, steals the rangefinder from his belt, and returns to her crouch without being noticed.
“That might be skill,” Rex says.
“It’s theft.”
“It can be both.”
Ahsoka examines the stolen rangefinder, looks through the briefing-room window, and grins directly at them.
Anakin points at her. “See? She knows we’re talking about her.”
“She probably heard you.”
“We’re behind reinforced transparisteel.”
Rex checks the datapad. “Togruta hearing is highly sensitive.”
“How sensitive?”
Rex reads for several seconds.
“Enough that General Kenobi’s joints probably sound like artillery.”
Obi-Wan’s hologram turns slowly toward him. Rex keeps his face perfectly neutral. Anakin bites his lip.
“Captain,” Obi-Wan says.
“Yes, General?”
“I’m choosing to assume that was an observation rather than commentary.”
“Of course, sir.”
Anakin fails to contain the laugh.
Obi-Wan gives him the same tired expression he’s used since Anakin was nine.
Rex scrolls farther down.
“Togruta are also obligate carnivores descended from pack-hunting apex predators.”
Anakin looks at Ahsoka again.
She dropped silently from the gunship and is now following the squad from approximately two meters behind them. Her teeth show in a delighted smile.
“That tracks.”
“She can identify individual heartbeats at close range.”
“That also tracks.”
“Her bite force will increase as she gets older.”
Anakin touches the faded scar on his forearm.
“I didn’t need to know that.”
“There’s more.”
“There shouldn’t be.”
Rex ignores him.
“Her montrals will become taller, her lekku will lengthen, and she’ll continue growing for several more years.”
Anakin shrugs. “She’s 15. That’s how aging works.”
Rex’s eyes move over the screen.
Then he goes still.
Anakin knows that stillness.
That is the stillness of a soldier discovering information dangerous enough to become entertaining.
“Captain,” Anakin says carefully.
Rex looks up.
“Considering the genetic makeup of Commander Tano’s parents, she’ll likely be taller than you one day.”
Anakin laughs.
Rex doesn’t.
The laugh fades.
“What?”
Rex turns the datapad around.
A family record fills the screen. Pav-ti Tano is listed with an adult height noticeably above average. Her father had apparently been taller still.
Anakin looks at the numbers.
Then he looks toward Ahsoka.
She’s currently shorter than him by enough that he can still rest his elbow on top of her montrals when she annoys him. She hates it when he does that and swears she’ll bite him the next time.
Her montrals have already grown since Christophsis.
So have her lekku.
Anakin looks back at the estimated adult height.
“No.”
Rex leans back. “The data seems reliable.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
“It’s her medical file.”
“Medical files can be wrong.”
“Kix confirmed it.”
“Kix can be wrong.”
“Commander Tano’s growth plates are still active.”
Anakin feels something cold enter his stomach.
He remembers being shorter than Obi-Wan.
The memory is distant but vivid. Obi-Wan used to be able to grab the back of Anakin’s robes whenever he attempted to run toward something explosive. He’d rested his chin on Anakin’s head during long briefings and complained that his Padawan made an adequate armrest.
Then Anakin experienced one major growth spurt over a few miserable months.
His robes stopped fitting. His knees hurt constantly. He started hitting his head on doorways.
Best of all, Obi-Wan needed to tilt his head upward to lecture him.
Anakin found the situation hilarious.
Obi-Wan did not.
Now the Force has apparently decided to punish him.
Ahsoka is going to grow taller.
Not slightly taller, either. The numbers suggest enough difference for her to rest an elbow on his head.
She will do it.
She’ll do it every day.
She’ll walk into briefings, lean on him, and call him Skyguy while Rex watches with the serene satisfaction of a man witnessing justice.
Anakin’s identity begins collapsing.
Obi-Wan studies him through the hologram.
“Are you all right?”
“My Padawan can’t be taller than me.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m the master.”
“Height isn’t part of the Jedi hierarchy.”
“It should be.”
Rex retrieves his datapad. “She’ll also continue developing muscle density.”
Anakin points at him. “Stop researching.”
“I’m already here.”
“Go back.”
“That isn’t how information works.”
In the hangar, Ahsoka finally reveals herself by tapping the last poor trooper on the shoulder.
The trooper jumps hard enough to drop his rifle.
Ahsoka catches it before it hits the floor, hands it back, and says something that makes all three troopers look personally offended.
Then she walks toward the briefing room.
Anakin watches her approach.
She looks the same as she did five minutes ago.
Small. Annoying. Young enough that he still checks whether she’s eaten after every mission, despite pretending he doesn’t.
Then she passes a height marker painted beside the hangar doors.
Anakin imagines her montrals rising past the top line.
He imagines looking up at her.
He imagines Obi-Wan discovering this and never allowing him peace again.
The briefing-room doors open.
Ahsoka steps inside with the stolen rangefinder still clipped to her belt.
“What are you three talking about?”
“Nothing,” Anakin says.
Rex answers at the same time.
“Your adult height.”
Ahsoka looks between them.
Then her eyes settled on Anakin.
The thin gold rings around her pupils seem brighter when she smiles.
“How tall am I going to be?”
“Average,” Anakin says.
“Taller than General Skywalker,” Rex says.
Ahsoka’s grin becomes predatory.
Anakin finally understands how Obi-Wan felt during his growth spurt.