"Now, Ahsoka," she looks at Anakin when he addresses her. He keeps on looking out the viewpoint, unable to meet her eyes, "we might find something you don't want to find."
"I know, Master." She doesn't. "But I have to believe."
"How do you know Master Plo anyway?" He asks curiously, finally looking over at her.
"He's one of my oldest friends." She says, her eyes lowered, "It was Master Plo Koon who found me and brought me to the Temple where I belonged."
Anakin wishes he never asked.
He remembers how he felt about Master Qui-Gon's death. If Master Plo found Ahsoka- when she was a toddler- then she obviously has a close connection to him. It's going to be a tragedy if they can’t find him.
"I don't remember my parents." Ahsoka goes on, "But, I think of Master Plo as both a mother and father to me."
Anakin swallows. He should've never brought her out here. Ahsoka could've stayed with Yuleran and Rex, organising the fleet whilst he looked for survivors. He taps onto Master Plo through the Force, gets nothing in response. He needs to get Ahsoka out of here.
"Incoming transmission, Master." Ahsoka says, "I think someone noticed we're gone."
Obi-Wan appears on a hologram, and even though he's small, Anakin can see the frown on his face, "Anakin, where are you?"
"Oh, hello, Master." He stutters, "Uh, we made a quick stop in the Abregado system."
"A rescue mission, I suppose." Obi-Wan says, acting as if he's omniscient. "You had other orders."
"It was my idea, Master Obi-Wan." Ahsoka says, and Anakin's almost glad for her interruption.
"Oh, I'm sure." Obi-Wan replies smugly. "Well, have you found any survivors?"
"No, you were right." Anakin says, hopes Obi-Wan will be his ticket to get Ahsoka out of here without seeing something not meant for young eyes. "The Separatists don't want any witnesses."
"All the more reason for you to re-join the defensive escorts. We need you, Anakin, both of you. You're going to miss the rendezvous with the fleet if you don't hurry."
Hopefully, Ahsoka can hear the seriousness in Obi-Wan's tone. They don't have time to scavage the remains of Master Plo's destroyed fleet when the mystery weapon is still out there. It’s what the Kel Dor would want them to do.
"I know, Master, we're on our way." Anakin promises, and he starts inputting the hyperspace coordinates.
Ahsoka subconsciously pours her disappointment into the Force, spreading it over their bond, and Anakin can't help but feel sorry for the kid. Anakin went against orders to find his mother, and he remembers the helplessness he felt when he couldn’t go to Tatooine at first.
"I'm sorry, Ahsoka." An apology won't help, but it's all he can say whilst he turns the Twilight around.
He looks up at Ahsoka's gasps, sees her eyes glued to one of the most horrific, gut-wrenching, blood-curdling sights he's seen in twenty-one years of life. He thought that a childhood in slavery was bad, but it's nothing compared to the sight through the viewpoint.
They found Master Plo.
Floating. His mask detached from his face. Behind him is a graveyard of white-armoured soldiers, frozen in space. Some of the clones don’t have their helmets on, and the change in pressure has caused their heads to implode.
All that’s left is bodies without brains, and brains without bodies.
They’re far too late.
"Good grief." Anakin mutters, feels nausea tearing up his insides. He wants to look away, but it's impossible to pull his eyes away. War is ugly, but this is hideous.
Beside him, Ahsoka is silent, and Anakin doesn't want to risk looking at her expression or nudging her through the Force. This sight will stay in her memory forever. He's officially scarred her for life. Great work, Skywalker, he can already hear the Council saying. Obi-Wan will give him disapproving looks for months, question if Ahsoka should stay his student. Padmé won’t even be able to look at her husband once she hears the crime he’s committed.
Surely, this counts as some type of child abuse.
“Master.” He looks at his student who is staring at the floating figure of Master Plo. It’s hard to read her, but he doesn’t need to. “I think I’d like to go back to the fleet now.”
Rex is waiting for them in the hanger, his helmet off and tucked under his arm. Sergeant Coric- the medic- is also there, oxygen mask and tank prepared to help any of the survivors. The two clones catch Anakin’s hard look as he steps down the ramp, guiding Ahsoka off the Twilight with a firm grip on her shoulder. A silent message is exchanged between the General and Captain:
Any survivors, sir?
No.
Rex is a man who can take bad news, but he still slumps at the news. There were hundreds of his brothers on Master Plo’s cruiser.
Anakin looks down at Ahsoka. He’s worried she’ll trip, collapse to the ground in screams or run off. For now, he keeps his grip firm and professional. Later, once they’re in a less public place, he’ll console her.
He scarred her; it’s only right that he gives her a shoulder.
Rex turns to Coric, murmurs something that the Jedi doesn’t hear, and the medic steps away hesitantly, his worried gaze lingering on Ahsoka. Coric lifts his eyes, gives Anakin a nod which says he’ll be in the medbay if he’s needed.
Hopefully, it won’t come to that.
The Captain starts to walk towards them, cautiously analysing the situation. There was one time when Anakin got very upset by something he saw, and several things ended up being broken with the Force. Rex- no doubt- is expecting the same reaction from Ahsoka.
Anakin won’t be surprised if she does end up using the Force as some type of outlet.
“Sir.” Rex says, and he leaves it at that.
“Rex.” Anakin uses his name, keeps Ahsoka at arm-length from their conversation but still in his hold. He lowers his voice, all the while knowing that Togruta montrals are more sensitive than human ears, so he chooses his words carefully.
“There were no survivors.” He tells the clone, although that’s fairly obvious. “We have Master Plo’s body on board. Can you-”
“I’ll get some men to sort it out, General.” Rex promises before Anakin can ask.
Deciding whether or not to take Master Plo had been a decision that Anakin made without Ahsoka’s input, even though he really did it for her. Really, the bodies of Republic personnel aren’t supposed to be removed from their place of death, unless it’ll cause a disturbance for others.
The Abregado System isn’t well-visited, so the clone bodies stayed put. Getting Master Plo on board was hard enough, and because he didn’t want to traumatise Ahsoka any further by putting the Kel Dor in the cockpit with them, Master Plo ended up on the bunk.
Anakin doesn’t think he- or Ahsoka- will be taking a nap on the Twilight anytime soon.
The ultimate deciding factor for bringing Master Plo’s body back with them was the same reason why Master Qui-Gon’s body was retrieved from Naboo. The Kel Dor deserves a Jedi funeral, and Ahsoka deserves the chance to say goodbye to her oldest friend once she gets over the shock.
Death doesn’t let you say goodbye.
Even if it’s a few minutes alone with his body, Ahsoka needs to properly let go of her old friend.
“Do you want me to inform the Council?” Rex asks quietly, his eyes on Ahsoka who is standing still, staring at her boots.
“Please,” Anakin doesn’t think it’s a good idea to leave Ahsoka alone right now, or make her face the Council. “Tell them that I’ll report back to them once we rendezvous with Obi-Wan.” He glances at Ahsoka, “I’m going to turn my comm off for a bit.”
“Yes, sir.” Rex doesn’t salute- he probably thinks it’ll startle Ahsoka- but Anakin isn’t offended. His Captain respects him tremendously, and he knows this.
Rex leaves to organise his men- the elder ones, most likely- to move the body from the Twilight to the cruiser’s morgue. Anakin sighs, shakes Ahsoka very gently to tell her it’s time to move again, but she doesn’t get the message and stands put.
“Snips,” he says quietly, tries to meet her gaze but her eyes are half-lidded, “let’s go to my quarters.”
She blinks, and only then does he notice how pale she’s getting. Maybe he should’ve got Coric to check her over. “Ahsoka?”
“I don’t feel very well.” She says quickly, then she’s swaying, and Anakin thinks she’s about to faint so he takes both of her shoulders, stands in front of her.
“You want to sit down?” Anakin glances around, looks for a crate or a spot of floor which isn’t covered in oil. The hanger isn’t the best place for them to dwell considering a gurney is on its way to the shuttle. Maybe he can pick her up and jog to the medbay which is closer than his quarters.
Slowly, Ahsoka lifts her head and Anakin frowns. She looks green, he hopes she isn’t going to be-
Too late.
She gags, projectile vomits right on the spot. His tunic takes most of the blow, and the stench makes him dizzy. Ahsoka leans forwards, coughing up the rest of her sick so it splatters down his trousers.
“Great.” Anakin mutters under his breath as she heaves, him awkwardly rubbing her back. He looks around, tries to get Rex’s attention but the Captain isn’t around. He’s stuck in the middle of the hanger, with his grief-stricken Padawan, and a now sticky, smelly tunic.
To make matters worse, Ahsoka slumps forwards in his arms, the side of her face now in the remains of her stomach which line his clothes. Anakin’s about to pull her away when he hears her scream.
It’s shrill and deafening, full of agony and somewhat hysterical sounding.
He winces, hopes it ends shortly so he can get both of them out of this hanger, but it just drones on, soon turning into long sobs which sound like someone is raking Ahsoka’s throat completely raw. The engineers and maintenance workers turn their way, shocked to see their young Commander falling apart in their General’s arms.
He wishes it weren’t his fault that Ahsoka’s in so much pain, but it is. He should’ve ran to Master Plo’s aid as soon as they lost contact with the Kel Dor’s fleet. He should’ve ordered a full-scale rescue mission. He should’ve left Ahsoka on the cruiser and broke the news to her softly.
Sweeping up Ahsoka, sick covered clothes and all, Anakin marches out of the hanger. He sees Yuleran enter the hanger as he leaves, and the Admiral’s jaw drops at the state of the two Jedi; Anakin in a filthy uniform, holding his sobbing Padawan.
He says nothing to Yuleran, ignores his concerned look as he walks back to his quarters, clones parting for him all the way. Ahsoka sobs wretchedly against his shoulder, her breaths becoming shorter and shallower. At this rate, she’ll work herself into a panic attack and completely freak out.
“I’ve got you, kid.” He murmurs, adjusting his hold on her so he can stroke one of her headtails. He hopes his reassurance helps, but it only makes her cry harder.
He’s never dealt with crying children before, let alone hyperventilating ones.
Once inside his quarters, he takes Ahsoka straight to the fresher. If she’s going to cry for the rest of the night, she might as well be clean and in fresh clothes. Plonking her on the toilet lid and making sure she won’t fall, Anakin puts his hands on his hips, “You going to be alright showering? I’ll grab you some fresh clothes.”
She’s breathing hard- too hard- with vomit covering her chin and left cheek. She’s a state, tears dribbling down her cheeks and every muscle in her body clenching with every breath. Okay, so maybe she needs to calm down a bit before she cleans up.
Crouching, Anakin takes her chin, accepting the stickiness getting on his hands, “Hey, look at me.” Eyes slick with tears meet his, “We’re going to take some deep breaths, okay?”
Instead of nodding, Ahsoka just gasps, “He’s… He’s gone…”
“I know.” He says, places a hand on her shoulder and starts a meditative breathing exercise, forcing her to participate through their bond. “I’m so sorry, Ahsoka. I wish I ran that rescue mission faster.”
She shakes her head, her breaths sharp, “I… I knew…”
He frowns, adjusting his position slightly as it becomes uncomfortable, “What do you mean?”
Ahsoka rests her head against the wall of the fresher, looking exhausted which is good because it means her breaths are slowing down, “I knew he was dead. I felt it.”
“Oh.” He can’t help but feel a little frustrated. Why didn’t she say if she knew the Kel Dor was dead? He tries not to let his irritation come through in his voice, “So, why were you so insistent about going?”
“I hoped I was wrong.” She whispers, closing her eyes. “Master Plo is- was- such a good man to me, I didn’t think he would die.”
She's so full of hope, it makes Anakin sick. Why does she believe that good things happen to good people? That isn't how the universe works, and she has to learn that the hard way. It isn't fair- nothing in life is.
He finds himself reaching out, brushing his flesh fingers down her cheek which isn’t stained with vomit. “My mother was the kindest person in the universe.”
Ahsoka opens her eyes, looks confused as he takes in a deep breath. He’s never told her about his past, and it’s not something he likes to talk about. Though, if it’ll help her feel less isolated about her loss, then he’ll do it.
“When I was young, Ahsoka, my mother and I lived in slavery.” He hopes he doesn’t upset her more by telling her this, so he tries to smile, “Fancy that; one of the greatest Knights in the Order, living in chains.”
Ahsoka smiles slightly at his arrogance. “How did you get out?” She whispers.
“Obi-Wan’s Master, Qui-Gon Jinn, found me and brought me back to the Temple.” He leaves out the details for another time. “I was freed, but my mother wasn’t. She had to stay on Tatooine.”
Ahsoka settles some, becomes more coherent as she listens. “Fast-forward to just before the Clone Wars, I started having dreams about my mother. I felt… a pull back to Tatooine. I had to go back.”
His lips twist, the wounds still fresh in his mind, “I barely got there in time. I found my mother, and she died in my arms.”
Ahsoka closes her eyes again, one final tear sliding down her cheek, “I’m sorry.”
She shouldn’t be. Anakin doesn’t deserve sympathy for his mother’s death after what he did to those Tusken Raiders.
“It’s okay.” He says, even though it isn’t. Well, it’s getting better- somewhat. “I grew up thinking my mom was invincible. I didn’t think bad things happened to good people.”
“It isn’t fair.” She raises a hand, scratches some of the sick from her chin.
“It isn’t.” Anakin stands, wets a flannel over the sink and crouches again, wipes her face clean. “It’s the one thing that annoys me more than anything else.”
“More than me?” She asks, gives him a watery smile.
Anakin laughs dryly, “You’re not annoying, Ahsoka.” He taps her nose, “I think you’re growing on me.”
She hums, “Back at you.”
It feels good, knowing they’re on the same page with their relationship. Anakin finishes wiping her face and then sighs, “You want to have a shower, kid?”
She opens her eyes, scans his sodden tunic, “Maybe you should have one first.”
“Cheek.” He nudges her shoulder gently. “Okay, grab me a spare tunic from my case.”
Ahsoka grins, jumps up and goes to complete the task. He watches her throw everything out of his case to find a spare tunic, shaking his head at how chaotic she is. This girl is turning his world upside down.
“Thanks,” he takes the garment from her, “I’ll be quick, then you should have a quick wash as well.”
She sags slightly, “Will we have to tell the Council? I’m sorry for getting us in trouble.”
“I’ll handle it.” He promises, knows this isn’t the end of their conversation about death.
After all, only time can heal. Though, he can bet she’ll have a few nightmares about the atrocity they witnessed in the Abregado system- Anakin will as well. Maybe he’ll stay in the Temple once they return to Coruscant instead of going to Padmé’s to sleep.
He’ll be there for Ahsoka, however long she needs his support. He’ll be a good shoulder, he’ll listen to her stories of Master Plo from her childhood, just like how he sometimes wishes he could talk about his mother. Everyone- even Padmé- avoids talking about his childhood because they think it hurts him.
It doesn’t. Talking about his mother may make his heart ache, but it’s not painful. He isn’t going to let Ahsoka grow up to be ashamed of her grief.
“We’ll stop it, Ahsoka.”
She raises an eye marking, “Stop what?”
He smiles bitterly, “Bad things happening to good people.”
A small smile makes its way onto her face although her eyes are still sad, “Sure thing, Skyguy.”
ns 15.158.61.20da2
