Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Darth Vader’s reputation wasn’t in vain.

Ahsoka Tano leaped around him as best she could, but he struck hard and firm, the agility that Anakin Skywalker wielded lost in the suit that kept him alive.

She wasn’t going to beat the ghost of Anakin Skywalker. She’d never thought she was going to. No matter what he’d turned into, and how far he had fallen, that didn’t change the power of the force that he wielded.

She didn’t have to kill him.

The temple around them was collapsing into itself, energy and darkness everywhere. Ezra and Kanan had escaped, so she didn’t have to worry about them. Going into a fight against Darth Vader was never going to end with the both of them walking out, and she certainly wasn’t the more powerful of the two of them.

She could, however, use her environment to her advantage. Obi-Wan had taught her that. It wouldn’t save her, but it would save the thousands whom she could keep Vader from reaching. It would push the rebellion leagues further forward. They’d live, they’d fight, and the Empire would fall.

Using as much of the force as she could manage, she pushed Vader’s lightsabers off of her own, bending down in a motion that would have anyone striking her immediately as she stabbed her lightsabers through the fragile ground.

Vader hesitated for a moment's beat, and in that second, she knew that somehow, Anakin was still in there.

Before his lightsaber could hit her as the ground filled with cracks, something burst around her, and she was pulled into an abyss.

Somehow, Rex and Ahsoka had ended up alone in an ambush. They’d been scavenging for droid parts to be repurposed when they both should have been resting, and the rest of the clones who’d joined them had broken off at some point.

It wasn’t the best battle strategy he’d had, but in his defense, he’d been led to believe all of the droids in their sector had been defeated.

As per their training, he and Ahsoka had immediately ducked for cover. She was only a step behind him, making her way behind a large piece of rubble from a prior battle.

Before any shots were fired Ahsoka fell backward with a shout, going completely limp.

“Commander!”

As far as he’d seen, nothing had struck her or even come near her. She’d simply been making her way behind the boulder, same as him, completely out of the trajectory of the droids slowly closing in.

It was a long shot to attempt to take them all on their own, but he certainly couldn’t do it without an explosive. He’d already radioed for General Skywalker and the rest of the boys, but he wasn’t sure if they had time. The clankers were marching toward them.

Ahsoka pushed herself up, wearily blinking around her. Rex set a hand on her shoulder, unsure of her status, only for her to tense and jump back at the touch.

She fell back onto the dirt, grabbing both of her lightsabers as her eyes widened. Her eyes darted around as if she were a scared creature in a cage, not his commander and a Jedi Padawan more than accustomed to these situations.

“Commander, what happened?”

Her forehead wrinkled slightly, “Commander?”

She looked towards the droids progressing towards them, visibly forgetting whatever befuddlement she’d just had as she leaped up with a speed that he was familiar with from Jedi.

Yet, instead of leaving it at that, she jumped onto the boulder and into the group of droids.

“Ahsoka!”

Then, Ahsoka Tano, Jedi Padwan, Commander of the Grand Army of the Republic, fourteen-year-old, flipped through the air and took out thirteen droids at once with joint use of her lightsabers and the force. She landed on the ground in a crouch before the wreckage of metal, her lightsabers wielded forwards in her hands.

Ahsoka was a good Jedi, better than a lot of Jedi Knights Rex had seen, but she couldn’t do that.

He wasn’t even sure if General Skywalker could do that.

She stood to her full, short height, looking at him with a sort of wild gaze. He ran beside her, unsure what to say.

“Commander-“

“Ahsoka! Rex!”

The relief that usually came with hearing the General’s voice filtered through Rex, but it didn’t last for long as Ahsoka instantly raised her still-lit lightsabers before them both.

General Skywalker slowed, sticking his palms out, “Snips?”

Rex didn’t think he’d ever seen Ahsoka’s eyes so wide. Her gaze stuck on him, her jaw clenched and her knuckles tan around her lightsabers.

“What happened? Are you okay?”

She unlit her lightsabers, slowly putting them back on her hips as her eyes darted to every person around them and, finally, the destroyed battle droids behind her.

“Yeah, I’m good. I…”

Rex stepped closer, “She passed out. Unprompted.”

Ahsoka’s hands fell behind her back in a pose that General Kenobi frequented, but which she scarcely used if someone of much higher status wasn’t around. She saw his stare and quickly crossed her arms.

“What?” Anakin said, rushing closer. “Are you okay?”

“I think I may just be tired. The battle from earlier may be getting to me.”

The reassurance didn’t work for anyone. She sounded too formal, as if she were a General giving a briefing. She never talked to the General in such a barren voice.

“Are you sure?” General Skywalker asked, looking at Rex as he said it.

Usually, Rex might have nodded or shaken his head, but he wasn’t sure, either. Something was obviously off with Ahsoka, and her eyes hadn’t stopped roaming over every individual there. Despite it all, that wasn’t what had perturbed him the most.

Passing out typically wasn’t a cue to stand up and pull off the most powerful move Rex had ever seen Ahsoka do. Jedi were powerful, and a sweep of something large with the force could take out dozens of clankers, but that wasn’t what she’d done. With strategic attacks combining her lightsabers and the force, she’d taken all of them out in seconds. Undoubtedly, it was a skill Jedi could learn, but Ahsoka had never done anything like that before.

“I am. I definitely need to rest, though,” as if a switch had been flipped, Ahsoka smiled, stiff and awkward. “Thanks for the concern, Skyguy.”

General Skywalker smiled, but Rex could only stare. Even the nickname had sounded stilted.

Kriff, maybe he just needed a nap.

“We should head back,” Jesse said, stepping up from behind Anakin.

With her right beside him, Rex was witness to how Ahsoka tensed… at Jesse?

“Snips, do you want to head up to the ship already before we head out? To get checked out? You’re off duty already.”

A beat passed before she answered, her eyes darting to everyone in the small group as they walked.

“I can be useful here.”

The words were genuine, and they sounded like Ahsoka Tano, but something about them seemed mechanical. As if she’d strategically planned what to say in her half-second of silence.

“Not if you pass out again,” Rex said. “Listen to the General.”

“Rex, you can accompany her. You’re also off duty,” General Skywalker said, leading them into the camp.

Ahsoka’s attention was anywhere but the conversation. When the others looked away from her, her eyes would dart around, exploring every inch of their surroundings before she looked back forwards with a typical smile. If Rex weren’t already so freaked out, he wouldn’t be noticing anything wrong; he wasn’t sure if it was paranoia or not.

So, “Yes, Sir.”

Ahsoka walked straight up to the table at the center of the largest tent, the one where they had stood to discuss battle plans only a day prior. She set her hands on it, shoulders relaxed but eyes still searching the room. She straightened when she saw General Kenobi, who was rushing to finish speaking to Cody so they could walk over.

“You sure you’re okay?” General Skywalker whispered, standing at Ahsoka’s other side.

“Yeah, I promise, just overwhelmed lately.”

“Well, you’ll get a break for a few days while we’re on Coruscant and on the trip there. Make sure you rest.”

“Of course,” she looked at Rex, though why, he wasn’t sure, “Master.”

It didn’t matter if General Skywalker was content with the answer or not because Cody and General Kenobi arrived at the table. Cody’s armor was as clean as either of theirs could get anymore, telling Rex that he and Ahsoka were the only ones to face combat after the final confrontations.

“Ahsoka, Rex, glad to see you’re both all right,” General Kenobi said. “How many droids were there?”

Not enough to stop Ahsoka from destroying them in seconds.

“Thirteen.”

Ahsoka decided to tell the rest, “They attacked us, so they probably weren’t acting on anyone’s orders. Just some… clankers left behind.”

The table went silent. It wasn’t uncommon for Ahsoka to speak up, but never in such a formal way. She seemed to have noticed it halfway through speaking, crossing her arms and slouching comfortably.

General Kenobi shared a look with Skywalker, “Very good assessment, thank you. We’re going to leave several squads here to ensure the coast is clear, but we’ve been approved to return to Coruscant.”

“And I’m sending Ahsoka up early with Rex to accompany her,” Skywalker said. “She went unconscious shortly when the droids approached them.”

In an action much more like herself, Ahsoka’s eyes narrowed enough to show irritation that Skywalker mentioned it. She’d stopped glancing around the room, and with her arms crossed as she stood back, she seemed decidedly more like herself.

Rex wasn’t convinced.

“Ah, you’re leaving us to do cleanup, huh?” Cody said quietly to Rex, grinning.


He returned the gesture, “It’s what you get for being on the other side of the planet during the ambush.”

“Nice excuse,” Cody put his helmet on. “Make sure Commander Tano is okay. I’ve never heard of that happening to a Jetii.”

“Neither have I. See you up there in, what, a few days?”

“You’re thinking of your own timetables, pal.”

With a clap to Rex’s shoulder, Cody was on his way to start packing up their gear. Rex had already done a large bit of cleanup the day before, so he didn’t feel too guilty about leaving them.

When he turned back to the table, Skywalker and Kenobi were speaking logistics while Ahsoka had returned to looking around the room. Her arms were at her sides and her posture was yet again stiff.

“We should head up,” he said to all three Jedi.

With a quick conversation and temporary goodbye, he and Ahsoka headed off to a gunship shuttle. She had almost seemed normal as they walked, but something was still off. He wished he could attribute it to exhaustion, as it was a perfectly reasonable answer. It simply didn’t explain how she took out thirteen droids.

A group of helmeted shinies walked past them, her eyes trailing each of them as if they were a threat.

“I know you’re getting medically examined, but are you feeling okay? Generally?”

Her head snapped to him, pausing briefly to stare at the gunship he had already stepped onto. She turned around, staring at the base camp.

It occurred to him that no one else could see her, not even the readied pilot. It was the first time she’d openly looked around, rather than darting her eyes around as if she’d never been there before.

“Yeah, I’m good.”

She stepped onto the gunship and reached up to hold onto the handle, her arm stretching to reach and a grimace crossing her face at the fact; she knew she couldn’t reach, or, she should have. For the first time, it crossed his mind that she could have some sort of memory issue.

It still didn’t explain how she’d defeated the droids in such a way.

The gunship doors closed, but she positioned herself to look out of the pilot's viewport. Her eyes didn’t leave the star destroyer once after it came into view.

Usually, they’d make idle chatter. It was how Ahsoka was, and it was why Rex enjoyed her company. The fact that she was silent was a large part of why he was so worried for her. She hadn’t said much since passing out, and what she had said was stilted and awkward.

She stepped off of the gunship without hesitation, leading the way to the medbay. He wasn’t sure if she even knew he was accompanying her there, but occasional glances at him assured him that she knew he was there. Her memory couldn't be too bad if she knew the layout of the ship, even if her head was noticeably turning in front of him to look down corridors.

Oddly enough, she took them to a medbay further from the hangar. As she must have known, it was empty, save for the droid.

She turned to him, and despite looking the exact same as she had that morning, she seemed older. Her face was weary and her posture was battle-ready, her hands comfortably behind her back. She held herself in a way that made her seem taller, and she quickly addressed the droid with authority.

“You’re staying?” she asked, her voice more genuine than he’d expected.

He nodded, unsure of what else to say. She sat on one of the cots while the droid took her vitals and did its tests, her feet not quite reaching the ground but not swinging as usual. It was only several minutes before the droid disappeared to get its results. Ahsoka stood, walking past Rex and to the door the droid just walked out of.

She locked it, doing the same to the other.

“Commander Tano?”

She turned to him, blocking the door.

“I’ve always trusted you,” she murmured, seemingly deep in thought.

“What happened, Ahsoka?”

She walked away from the door, clearing the exit as her hands clasped behind her back. He felt as if he was in a briefing with a General. Ahsoka did outrank him, but that was only their official ranking. They all acknowledged that.

“Realistically, I shouldn’t tell anyone this,” she said firmly, her voice steady and quiet enough that no one would hear.

“Tell anyone what?”

“You have to swear you won’t tell the other clones. Or Obi-Wan. Especially not Anakin, or… Padmé,” her eyes widened as if the mention of the senator was surprising somehow.

“That depends on what it is.”

“It puts no one at risk. Promise me, please, Rex.”

The formality of someone who knew they had someone's attention hadn’t left her tone, but it sounded more like her. More genuine and, most of all, desperate.

“Okay. I promise. Now, what the hell is going on?”

She opened her mouth before shutting it again, sighing. Her eyes shut momentarily, in the way that only a Jedi’s did. When she opened them, she nodded, although seemingly not to him.

“I was in a fight with a Sith Lord before I… woke up here. After, I suppose, you saw me pass out.”

His head turned to the side and his face wrinkled. She certainly hadn’t been fighting a Sith Lord, and she wouldn’t be able to keep her own. The Generals hadn’t even been able to keep their own against Count Dooku.

“That doesn’t-“

“No. What doesn’t make sense is the fact that my fight with the Sith Lord was about twenty years in the future, and when things became somewhat final, I woke up here.”

He froze.

Her face was as determined as it was before she walked into a battle. She was rugged with exhaustion, and he could see that now. It was the battle-worn type of tiredness that never went away, as he was quickly learning.

He’d seen Jedi do a lot of things, but it had to be impossible for them to time travel. They couldn’t possibly go that far.

He wouldn’t even consider it, but the fourteen-year-old Ahsoka Tano he knew, even with all of her skills, couldn’t have taken out those droids in such a way. She’d moved with an agility that she hadn’t even come close to reaching, and the tactic was unlike anything he’d ever seen.

She continued, “I know it seems impossible, trust me, I don’t know how it happened either. But, Rex, please, you have to believe me. I was sent to Malachor for a reason, and… I achieved that knowledge, but I think I may have been sent there for this, too.”

He blinked, processing her words slowly. There were easier things to tackle than time travel, so he settled on the thing he did know about.

“Malachor? Aren’t Jedi-“

“Yes. Master Yoda himself sent me and two Jedi there. I believe it may have been for this, too. The future I’m familiar with… Isn’t ideal. Isn’t good. If I’m here, and I know how it came to be, I can fix it. I can’t do that alone.”

Ahsoka Tano, from the future.

She’d been acting odd around Skywalker and Kenobi, using nicknames and titles that suggested she’d been normal around them once, but wasn’t anymore. Her attention had lingered on the ships and schematics, trying to figure out where she was. She’d even been odd when other clones approached her, like Jesse.

“What do you mean not ideal?”

Her eyes widened, and what might have been a weary look of relief crossed her face, but she sobered quickly. It was something that the fourteen-year-old Jedi Padawan wouldn’t have been able to do so quickly.

“It’s a lot. And it’s bad.”

“We lose the war?”

She pursed her lips, “None of it is what you’ll imagine. It’s worse. Do you really believe me? I don’t have anything physical to prove it, but I can find a-“


“You already did.”

Her head turned to the side.

“Right after you woke up, you took down thirteen droids in seconds. I don’t even know if General Skywalker could pull that off, especially not in the way you did.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, much less peacefully this time. In what could only be described as exhaustion, she sat back on the cot, looking up at him.

“He could,” she mumbled before raising her voice. “I’m glad you’re the only one who saw that, then. Do you really believe me?”

“I don’t know how else to explain what I saw.”

He still had his comm on his wrist. If he wanted, he could easily call either General or a clone down the hall. He wouldn’t fight Ahsoka under any circumstances, but there was a chance she wasn’t in her right mind.

He didn’t think that was what was happening.

He was already beginning to believe her, likely against his best choices, but she clearly wasn’t convinced.

It had to be impossible. Someone traveling back in time and into their own body was beyond ridiculous, and no story of the Jedi compared to it. Ahsoka could simply be acting odd, or he could have seen wrong.

“Fine, uh, tell me something. About me, or you.”

“I can do something better. Why don’t we go to the training room before Obi-Wan and Anakin get back?”

He crossed his arms, looking at her the way he had a dozen times prior. She wasn’t grinning or enthusiastic in the way she would have been, but a small, meek smile crossed her face.

“I’d say we’ve got half an hour.”

She stood, “Then let's make it fast.”

They walked side by side this time, although they both knew where they were going. He didn’t think Ahsoka noticed the way she was walking, and how anyone who knew her at all would immediately think something was up. If it weren’t for the Padawan beads, any outsider would easily think she was high above her rank.

He had a feeling that in the future she was supposedly from, she was at a higher rank.

Although, she'd said it wasn’t an ideal future, which didn’t bode well for anything. The only thing he could think of was that they must have lost the war, but many other things could happen after that. Perhaps the war was even still going on. With how quickly she’d snapped into battle against the droids after just waking up in the supposed past, she must be accustomed to fighting.

His head hurt, and he wanted to sleep— or get a drink. Instead, he stepped into the vacant training space, droids and blasters lined up on the walls. Training rooms were more for the Clones, as the Jedi didn’t need any of their supplies or weapons. Even so, Ahsoka certainly knew her way around.

She stepped into the middle, pulling out her lightsabers and looking at the hilts. Surprise crossed her face, and she studied them much more carefully for a moment.

“How are we doing this?” he asked, growing impatient.

Her attention left her lightsabers and she nodded to the large mock B2 droids, “Those. Turn them all on and stand back.”

“All of them? There’s eighteen.”

“I know.”

“I don’t doubt you or another Jedi could take some out in a fight, but they’re all gonna zero in on you and shoot.”

She met his eyes, a seriousness in her gaze that meant something, “I’ve been in worse situations with much tougher assailants. I’m proving my story to you, remember?”

Thirteen B1 droids destroyed in an instant, particularly in the way she’d done it, was enough to partially convince him of her story. Yet, this was something else entirely, and this time he was sure General Skywalker would struggle with it.

“I’m turning them off if it looks like too much.”

“Don’t.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but she pulled out her lightsabers in front of her, nearly crossing them together as they ignited. Her eyes were filled with determination, and she gave him one firm nod. Hesitantly, he turned on all of the droids with one push of a button.

As all of the droids powered up and set their targets on her, she flipped her lightsabers to be in more of a battle stance, one of them in her familiar backward grip. She waited until any of the droids had stepped into the arena area to launch herself at them.

In an instant, just like with the B1 droids, she leaped at one. She slashed at it, at the same time using it as a brief stool to jump up further and slash two more as she fell between them.

Undoubtedly, she was accustomed to being taller.

She’d always been agile, but it seemed that in the possible future she learned how to truly use that to her advantage. Several droids fired at her, but with swings of her lightsabers that made them seem like fans, she sent them all back into five droids.

Two more came up behind her, so she hopped out of her battle position and kicked one of them, using it to flip through the air and slash at them both, pushing two more into the wall with the force before she even hit the ground.

She didn’t bother with any fancy moves for the final ones, running between them and dodging their bolts with ease. One more was sent into a wall, two were taken out by her lightsaber, and the other two ended up with blaster bolts burned into their torsos.

In the end, she landed between the mess once again, lightsabers crossed in front of her and knees bent. She stood up and took a deep breath before looking at Rex.


It had hardly taken a minute for her to take all of them out.

“I believe you,” he said truthfully.

There wasn’t much reason not to, at that point. Jedi were always capable of incredible things, so time travel was just another one added to the list.

For the first time since arriving, she genuinely smiled, her shoulders relaxing as she set her lightsabers on her hip.

“Thank you, Rex. I know how to do things alone, but, this…”

“It’s a lot.”

“Yeah,” she walked over to him. “Look, for strategy's sake, I can’t tell you everything about the future. As I said before, nothing is going to be how you’d think, including how I go about this.”

“Well, I’ll help you as best as I can. Where are you starting?”

She looked at the chrono, signifying that they had to get droids in the room soon to clean up the mess. Her gaze was distant, likely thinking of future problems and issues that he supposedly couldn’t even imagine.

Finally, she turned back to him, “Have you ever heard of Darth Maul?”

Chapter Text

Once, the force had been filled with light. Even when it dimmed slightly during the Clone War, thousands of Jedi around the galaxy were enough to keep the light flowing, and every force-sensitive being could feel it.

Ahsoka Tano had witnessed when it went out, and she’d made attempts to be one of the lights in the darkness ever since.

Now, as she sat down in what had once been her designated bunk, she shut her eyes and gave way to the light flowing around her. She’d thought countless times of how she’d taken it for granted, as they all had, never knowing how much it could leave them.

She could feel the darkness encapsulating at the corners, the one that Sidious simultaneously caused and masked. It was there, steadily and invisibly growing, and no one around her knew that it could steal everything they knew. Despite that, it didn’t smother the light. The Jedi were too strong, in that sense.

She’d gone from being in a Sith Temple fighting Darth Vader, a Temple and man filled with nothing but darkness, to sitting up next to a considerably younger Rex and feeling the light wash over her.

Ahsoka had spent the better part of the last eighteen years of her life as a spy. For years, she was rebel intelligence, with no one else prominent or trusted enough to be equal with her. She knew how to sneak around, and how to act quickly. She was stronger in the force than she ever could have been had the Republic not fallen, as she knew how to ground herself in the midst of the darkness. She knew the Outer Rim and criminal underworlds like the back of her hand, and she’d done her fair share of sneaking around and falsifying her own identity.

That was why from the moment she’d seen Anakin Skywalker— not Vader, not a machine, not a Sith Lord, but her former master and the best man she’d ever known— she’d been formulating a plan.

She was in the past for a reason. She didn’t know how it worked, nor did she have any of her current— old?— contacts and resources, but she wasn’t going to let this opportunity go to waste. She knew what was coming, and if she thought hard enough, perhaps she could find a way to stop it.

Telling Rex about Maul hadn’t been a strategically sound plan, but it had slipped out to her trusted friend and ally before she could think better of it. Giving him conclusive truths that’d hopefully be proven soon would cement his belief in her story, although he’d already miraculously been convinced from the moment she told him. If her body language and actions were enough to convince him, then she had serious work to do before she spoke to Anakin again.

Originally, Maul had been a starter idea. He was a problem, albeit a small one in the grand scheme of everything going on. Yet, her mind had been trailing back to the man who had told her of Anakin’s fall before it happened ever since she began to suspect Vader’s identity. Seeing him on Malachor had only reinforced the memory, and she couldn’t help but remember an outstretched hand and a request to work together.

Maul wasn’t capable of change, she’d seen that time and time again. She didn’t need to get him to change to set him against Sidious, and with careful plotting and a realistic story of time travel, she could get him on her side as the enemy of her enemy.

She could take the hand that had been outstretched in her past and his future, and this time, she could actually make a difference in the galaxy.

It was a work-in-progress idea, so she shelved it for the moment. He was still rotting on Lotho-Minor at the time.

Fighting the training droids had been more for her own sake than Rex’s. She needed to know her own strength against the droids, and how far she needed to tamp it down so as to not cause suspicion. She’d already been going easy on the droids, and Rex was still shocked at her capability.

This was going to be difficult.

She was a spy. She’d been a spy. She knew how to keep down her emotions extremely well, and she could act allusive, naive, tough, or however else she needed to fit the situation. The problem was that in this situation, she needed to act like someone she wasn’t anymore.

It wasn’t only because she wasn’t a teenager anymore. Order 66, and the rise of the Empire, had taken something from many people. She’d seen it in Kanan, and in every Senator or fighter who had been fighting the same fight since the Clone War. Bail Organa had once shared a lengthy conversation with her about that very topic, and she could hear his words echoing in her head.

She didn't know how to act like a teenager, but most of all, she didn’t know how to be the upbeat, trusting, beyond-friendly teenager and Jedi. She could convince some of the clones, or blame it on the constant fighting in the war at age fourteen, but her concern wasn’t with the clones.

It was with Anakin and Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan was the less volatile of the two, and he was also the one whom Ahsoka hadn’t been fighting and searching for a single scrap of information about— although she’d done that too, once, simply for very different reasons— mere days ago. She could act somewhat normal around Obi-Wan.

Anakin was an entirely different story. He was being groomed by Sidious— Palpatine, right in front of everyone’s very eyes. He would become a monster. He’d kill millions. He might kill Padmé.

She wasn’t sure if she could walk out of her bunk and speak with Anakin like she once did, but she had no choice.

Even worse than her own capabilities was how he’d react if she failed to act normal. If she spoke down to him and treated him as fragile as he was, he’d get upset. If he questioned her about acting odd and she had to lie, he’d feel hurt. If she acted aloof and couldn’t bring herself to speak to him, he’d be lost.

He might tell Obi-Wan, and then Obi-Wan would come to her too. Yet, even worse, he would certainly have it coaxed out of him by Sidious. He’d turn it into a source of anger to turn him to the dark side, and Ahsoka may only speed things up into their demise.

She couldn’t watch it happen again.

Her eyes opened, and her fingers twitched at the unfamiliar yet simultaneously familiar environment.

She was on a star destroyer. White-armored figures were everywhere. Probe droids floated through the air, and standard blasters were in many rooms. Admiral Wullf Yularen, future Imperial ISB agent, commanded the ship. A future Sith Lord was only a few doors down from Ahsoka. Many light-years away, the most treacherous Sith Lord Ahsoka had ever known sat in his office on Coruscant, playing everyone like puppets.

Ahsoka took a deep breath, shoving her emotions inside of herself and begging for them to stay there. She’d tried her hand at sleep, but instead, she’d spent the night contemplating her new situation and what she was going to do about it. With a glance at the chrono, she knew it was time to enact the plan she and Rex had made.

She could feel Anakin and Obi-Wan in the force, on the opposite side of the ship from Rex. With a small crackle on her commlink as her cue, she stood and made her way to the cafeteria.

As planned, Rex was sitting with several other clones, those of whom she buried memories of Order 66 and sat beside with her tray. Rex greeted her with the same surety he always did, playing his part possibly better than she was. Thankfully, this time, the clones wouldn’t question if she acted slightly off; not with what was about to happen.

She couldn’t fake a vision in front of Anakin and Obi-Wan. But, neither of them was there, so she could do the closest thing to it.

She blinked at her plate, throwing herself as far into a memory as she could and praying she still felt the emotions from it strongly enough for Anakin and Obi-Wan to feel it.

Ahsoka shut her eyes and tuned out of the physical world around her, envisioning glass shattering towards her as Maul held out a hand. She felt the weight of his lightsaber against her own, and without her intent, the memory turned into the first Inquisitor she ever fought, the one whose lightsabers she’d stolen. She kept Maul in her mind, his hate strong, but she saw several different foes.

Before she could stop it, when she couldn’t reign in and shove down her emotions, she saw Vader’s lightsaber against her own. His anger and hatred gave him strength, and he had plenty for her.

Malachor was burning around her, Kaeden Larte was shouting, the Phantom was flying over her head, and the Sith Temple of Malachor was collapsing around her.

A hand clutched her arm, and Ahsoka’s eyes flung open to several worried clone faces and Anakin and Obi-Wan before her.

Anakin Skywalker, with blue eyes and unscarred skin and functioning lungs. Obi-Wan Kenobi, a ghost that she’d spent months searching for any sign of life.

Her breaths were heavy and labored, and she’d pulled away from Anakin’s worried grasp before she could think better of it. Her gaze caught Rex’s, his more aware than anyone else’s there.

Her strategic mind, the one that fourteen-year-old Ahsoka hadn’t had, knew she could use this to her advantage.

“I had a vision,” she gasped, squeezing Anakin’s hand when he offered it for a second time. Obi-Wan had a hand on her back, and she must have fallen off of her stool.

She looked away from Rex’s concerned— and possibly regretful— gaze, staring at Anakin. He wore his emotions on his face, and the worry he had for her made her chest feel heavy and sorrowful, especially with what she’d just seen.

“Are you okay?”

He didn’t care about the vision, not when she was on the floor with trembling hands and shaky breaths. She was going to have to get a handle on that if she planned to use this tactic again, which considering its effectiveness, she likely would.

She nodded, sitting up away from Obi-Wan’s firm grip and nodding to him as well.

Obi-Wan gently asked, “Do you want to go to a medbay?”

Many of the clones had already left, giving her privacy and not crowding around. Yet, Rex and the others who had been at the table were still there, hovering out of concern and not out of nosiness. Any hovering clones would be there for concern, but they had enough sense to know when it’d become overwhelming.

“I think I’m good,” she said, looking at Anakin again and hoping the urgency of the situation that none of them knew about was showing on her face.

“Could you discern anything?” he asked, just as she’d hoped he would.

With the skill of half of a lifetime of war and spying, she furrowed her eyebrows and whipped her head back towards Obi-Wan.

“I think… I saw someone that’s supposed to be dead.”

Contrary to everyone else, Ahsoka saw some of Rex’s concerns fade out of the corner of her eye. Obi-Wan and Anakin shared a glance, and Ahsoka leaned onto Anakin to stand up. She couldn’t look him in the eye and talk with him like a normal person, not yet, but she could lean on him to keep him complacent for the moment.

“We should probably talk in private,” Obi-Wan said.

Pretending to be weaker than she was as they walked through the halls to an empty conference room was easy, although she didn’t overdo it. The hardest part was keeping herself from tensing every time she saw a white armored clone walk past in the halls of a star destroyer.

Finally, she lowered herself into a chair in an empty room, Obi-Wan and Anakin doing the same around her. It felt too close to a situation she might have been in with any of her fellow rebels, and the collision of two harshly different worlds was difficult to accept; perhaps throwing herself into an old memory and then being alone with her former Masters hadn’t been a good idea.

She looked at Obi-Wan, “I don't know for sure if it was who I think. It was… Fuzzy. There was a lot of stuff, and maybe fire. It was hot.”

“Who do you think it was?” Anakin asked, leaning onto his knees.

As far as she knew, Maul had never been a large factor in Anakin’s life. He’d been there when he was a child, but that was it. She hoped she didn’t speed his descent up.

“There was metal, a lot of it, on him… Or something. He had red skin and horns around his head,” she watched Obi-Wan’s face fall, “and black tattoos, but the patterns were unfamiliar.”

“Darth Maul.”

Had she not known this was coming eventually anyway, she might have felt bad for the gravity in Obi-Wan’s voice as he said it. Anakin’s expression had also darkened, but more so into shock than the devastation that was now in the force.

“Is that possible?” Anakin asked.

‘’He was angry. There was… So much hate.”

It was with everything in her that Ahsoka’s gaze didn’t flicker to Anakin. If this was going to work, she had to hope that Maul had more hatred for Sidious than Obi-Wan. Considering the fact that he’d been on Malachor to destroy the Sith instead of searching out Obi-Wan, she was hopeful that she was right. Although, twenty years could make a difference, that much was for sure.

She and Anakin both stared at Obi-Wan, something that had happened a dozen times before and Ahsoka had forgotten about until that moment.

The part of her that had missed these years more than anything was weeping.

“I’ll speak to the council when we return. I can’t imagine it was anyone else… If you really do think it was him?”

“You’d know better than me. I’m sorry, Master, but he’s the only one I think it could be.”

Obi-Wan leaned back, holding his bearded chin in a motion painfully familiar, “You have no need to apologize. I’ll inform the council, and I may be assigned differently to figure this out. Were there any hints about the location?”

She tapped her fingers on her leg, a habit she’d long outgrown before she even turned twenty, “Like I said, it was hot. Really hot. There was lots of stuff… Maybe trash?”

She watched him put the pieces together, and she knew he’d be searching where Naboo vacuum shoots led to before they reached Coruscant. Despite leaving her rattled, a side effect she was well accustomed to dealing with, the plan had gone off perfectly.

“Thank you, Ahsoka. You’re sure you’re all right? After yesterday, too?” Anakin asked when it seemed Obi-Wan was too deep in thought.

“I am, yeah. I think this break will be good. How far are we from Coruscant?”

“About twelve hours,” Obi-Wan said, standing. "If you want to rest more, you’re able to.”

“I think I’m gonna meditate.”

They both nodded, Obi-Wan’s face seared with contemplation. Anakin smiled at Ahsoka, the friendly kind of grin that reassured anyone. Somehow, it only made something vile curl inside of her.

She remembered telling Ezra about Anakin. She’d spoken of how deeply he cared, and his strength in a battle. Ezra had asked if she knew what happened to him; she’d been in the depths of her investigation into Vader, and in deep denial, and hadn’t been able to answer. It would have been foolish strategically, anyway, but she’d skipped over the question.

She had never been able to help thinking of how well Anakin and Ezra would have gotten along. The thought had turned acidic when she saw Vader looming over Ezra. She hadn’t had any way to for sure that he had been Anakin, but at that moment, there had been no room for doubt.

Anakin was beside her as they walked down the hall, his eyes occasionally darting to her to check her status. He was so full of the kindness that she’d remembered him with for years. His anger was there, and she’d seen it and undoubtedly would see it, but it hadn’t taken over. It seemed impossible to imagine that it ever could.

After the Ghost Crew brought Rex and the other clones to the fleet, Ahsoka and Rex stayed up one night in the lounge of the Ghost. She hadn’t been able to tell her concerns, wouldn’t have been able to see how it affected him when she could barely stand to conceptualize the thought of Anakin becoming Vader herself. Instead, they’d drank and laughed about all of their old friends, including Anakin.

Rex— her Rex, the one who had escaped Order 66 with her and grown old— would balk if he saw her now. She wondered what was happening in her future, if it still existed. Kanan and Ezra would have gone back to Atollon without her, and Rex would be led to believe she’d died. He would never know that it was the remnants of Anakin who nearly killed her. Ezra may have heard her call Vader ‘Anakin’, but he wouldn’t say anything. Rex would be in the dark.

It didn’t matter, she supposed. She was in the past, and she was going to do something about the galaxy around her. Sidious had set his plan in motion, but she knew not just every detail, but how it would play out.

It was the largest advantage she’d ever had, and she intended to use it.

She split from Anakin with a smile and a kind goodbye and entered her room. She was hardly cross-legged on the floor to meditate when a loud knock sounded on the door. She swished it open with her hand, a habit of laziness she didn’t indulge in prior to waking up in the past but would be well accustomed to in this era.

Rex was standing there, urgency and concern etched across his features. For a moment, Ahsoka saw the bearded, older clone that she’d been thinking about moments before. He walked in and let the door shut before turning to her.

“What the hell was that?”

That hadn’t been what she was expecting.

“The plan?”

He looked around the small, barren space and huffed, sitting down across from her on the floor.

“I thought you were going to fake it. That looked completely real.”

“I did fake it; I can’t force a vision.”

“Then how can you explain blacking out?”

She blinked. She hadn’t meant to black out, she realized.

“I just… Threw myself very far into a memory. And a few others, unintentionally.”

“What does that mean? Are you okay?”

She nodded calmly, “Yes. I meant to simply push myself back to a time I encountered Maul, one of the more… Intense ones, and accidentally saw more rattling things with other opponents. I’m perfectly fine.”

“Like the Sith Lord you said you were fighting before you got here?”

It was with the experience of being wanted galaxy-wide that she didn’t physically react in any way.

She sighed, recalling his lack of initial reaction to that information, “Yes.”

He looked down, shaking his head with a laugh that worried her. She didn't want to tell him most things about her future, as it would only overwhelm him.

“Rex? You okay?”

He looked back up at her, his expression thankfully calm, “You look the same, but you seem so much older. It makes you look old, the way you act.”

“That’s not good.”

“Yeah, well, you did a great job earlier. How’d you learn that?”

“Learn what?”

“All these plans. Sneaking around, lying, surveying your surroundings, it came to you instantly.”

She sighed. She didn’t want to tell him that; it was hard to tell part of the truth when the truth involved the fall of everything he knew.

“Come on,” he said, ”You have to tell me something. If we’re working together, I’ll find out more, anyway.”

This time, she gave a halfhearted, meek laugh, “Yeah, and then you’ll be even more freaked out. It’s complicated, and I can’t tell you the whole truth. Or even close to it.”

“Just tell me how you got so sneaky. That’s all I’m asking right now, kid.”

He hadn’t called her ‘kid’ in a long time, and it struck close to her heart. She stared at him, both of them sharing strong gazes.

“I’ve spent a long time acting as a spy. Finding information, giving it out to people who will do good with it, and making sure they won’t expose… things. If you want more of the truth, I worked closely with Senator Bail Organa to do the job I did.”

He stared for longer than she’d have liked. She fretted that it was already too much information, that it’d worry him too much and he’d tell someone who’d tell others and would alert the Jedi Council. If the Council found out, Sidious would find out, and that was the worst-case scenario.

“In the Jedi Order?” he asked.

“It’s complicated.”

“Everything sounds complicated.”

“Because it is,” she said, frustration creeping into her tone.

Much to her surprise, he grinned.

“That was the most like yourself you’ve sounded so far.”

It should have made her feel relieved, with the tactical advantage that was going to give her. She’d sounded like fourteen-year-old Ahsoka, and that was good. Instead, her heart dropped with the knowledge of what Rex didn’t know.


“But I’m not the same person, and not just because I grew up. I don’t want to put this on you, but I think I need your help to act like that person. If I can.”

His smile slipped, “What happened?”

“A lot.”

“Well, I can always help you, Commander. The first step of your plan is done. What’s next?”

She thought of the ecumenopolis they were headed toward, and all of the memories surrounding it. Sidious was sitting in his office in the center of the Senate, and Mas Amedda was willing to do whatever he wanted. The corrupt Jedi Order was there, and her emotions would be on a plank waiting to be tested for any oddities. Master Yoda would sense if something was amiss.

Padmé was there, still living and helping and doing all of the good that surrounded her; Ahsoka wasn’t sure how she was going to look her in the eyes without crying. She never knew how Padmé died, although she’d spent several months investigating whether or not she truly had; Bail had confirmed her death without a single other detail. It made sense for Sidious to get her out of the way, but now that she knew about Anakin, the thought of what could have happened to her was terrifying. If she didn’t know Padmé would tell Anakin, she would confide in her about the future, too.

Barriss was there, observing the flaws in the Order and slowly growing fed up with it. Trace and Raffa were on level 1313, and Ahsoka didn’t even know if Ziro had escaped prison or been locked up yet to be the cause of their parent's death. Master Plo might be there, his kindness and understanding nature radiating everywhere he went; he’d also tell the Council if Ahsoka confided in him.

On the battlefield, Ahsoka was going to have to purposefully tamp down her skills, and watch men die because of it. Yet, the challenge of Coruscant and everything it held was going to be much worse.

She looked at Rex, “Getting through Coruscant.”

Every other challenge paled in comparison to the fact that Darth Sidious would be there, sitting in his office in the center of the galaxy with his hand on every possible trigger.

She’d managed a lot in her life, but this would be one of the most difficult challenges yet.

Chapter Text

Ahsoka stood on the bridge of the Resolute, her hands clasped behind her back. Her fingers squeezed together as she watched the stars focus and a glittering cityscape of a planet come into view.

She buried her emotions down as one would pack away old items, desperately trying to channel her fourteen-year-old self and all of the excitement that would come with coming to the place that had once been her home.

She could feel the darkness of Sidious, although she didn’t dare attempt to sort through it with her mind. She had to act as oblivious as everyone else, no matter how difficult of a task that would be.

Most of all, she felt the Jedi Temple and the light of all of the Jedi within it. Master Yoda shone like a lantern, illuminating the path home. There were Padawans training and Knight’s teaching them, younglings being assigned masters or going through their first lessons, and Jedi around the temple meditating.

It was impossible to deny that the Temple was largely neglected during the war, but compared to what Ahsoka was accustomed to, it was the brightest thing she’d felt in years. She shut her eyes, her stance relaxing automatically as she felt the comfort of something she hadn’t been able to go near in too long. She hadn’t so much as stepped foot in the Temple since she walked away from Anakin, leaving him devastated with her Padawan beads in her hands and months away from falling to the dark side.

The tranquility she’d felt faded away, and she opened her eyes to look several paces before her. Anakin was next to Yularen, attempting to have a conversation with the Admiral while he went through the orders of making it through the traffic of Coruscant. They would both join the Empire instantly, albeit in very different ways.

“Relieved to be returning?”

Ahsoka turned around, surprised that she hadn’t sensed Obi-Wan walking over. She wasn’t technically supposed to be on the bridge, but Yularen didn’t keep a tight leash on the Jedi on his ship— he’d learned the pointlessness of it.

“Truthfully, yes,” she said, far too much honesty pouring into her tone.

Her stay on Coruscant was going to be beyond difficult, and she knew that. Yet, in this initial moment of returning after so long of not being able to get even close to the ecumenopolis, she couldn’t deny the emotions that came with returning to the home of her childhood. The light of the temple, the lack of Imperial insignias, and even the dreadful busyness that she’d never liked very much were all signs of the first home she’d ever had. The sign of it brought an odd comfort, despite knowing all of the infections already on the planet.

“I understand,” Obi-Wan said, moving to be next to her. “It’s been far too long.”

There were a lot of things for Ahsoka to wrap her head around, and she’d spent as much time as she could trying to plot how to go about changing the future. It was only as Obi-Wan stared at a planet she knew he couldn’t stand with relief that Ahsoka thought of a new tactic, one that could be used on many people.


She glanced nervously toward him, “Do you ever think we shouldn’t be soldiers?”

She knew the answer. Glances and complaints here and there, even if he always got the job done and even enjoyed it sometimes, had given it away when she was a Padawan. Prior to her becoming Anakin’s Padawan, she could assume that Obi-Wan may have been much more frustrated with his rank of General.

Obi-Wan sighed, rubbing his beard. His eyes were stuck on the star destroyer before them, also returning from a likely long journey.

“We’re Jedi; peacekeepers. That question is one that’ll keep you thinking for hours, Ahsoka.”

It was phrased as a warning, but a brief moment of soft eye contact told her everything she needed to know. Obi-Wan wasn’t going to admit it, not to her. She was younger than him, as far as he knew. She was a child, and he’d do all he could to keep her as one.

She decided to push anyway; her younger self would have done the same, had she ever thought in such philosophical terms.

“I know. I just can’t help but think that as peacekeepers, we may be prolonging things by continuing to fight. I know we can’t just let people die but… Why us?”

She was stressing out Obi-Wan, and she could see it in the wrinkles on his forehead. Nevertheless, she wanted to put the thought in his head, and have him aware that it was in her head. That way, if she or Rex ever slipped up, she had the beginning of an excuse.

“I can’t answer that, and I am sorry for that. Perhaps you should speak to the Council while we’re here.”

The Council was too entwined with politics and Sidious to truly get anything done; she’d seen that firsthand when she was accused of bombing the Temple. Naturally, it was what most Jedi would suggest. He wouldn't be the one to take initiative to inform them of Ahsoka’s concerns, so as to not bring the concerns up as a whole. Everyone knew of them, but no one ever said them aloud.

“That may be a good idea. Sorry to trouble you, Master.”

“Don’t be sorry, Ahsoka. Thoughts like these are good.”

She’d missed Obi-Wan. She’d been almost entirely sure that he hadn’t died in Order sixty-six or anytime after, but she’d never found him. Similar to her digging on Padmé’s death, Bail had warned her away from it with few words and nothing more than implications. She’d been closer with Anakin than him, but they’d been a trio, and he’d always provided good talks and a clear mind.

Anakin turned away from Yularen, smiling at both of them, “You ready to get home?”

“We were just talking about that,” Obi-Wan said, stealing the words from Ahsoka’s mouth.

For the first time in her life, it occurred to Ahsoka that she may have ended up somewhat similar to Obi-Wan. Her battle instincts were all from Anakin, and she’d always known that, but she’d never thought of how her quiet tactical mind was similar to Obi-Wan. He was undoubtedly more of a rule follower than her, but the similarity was one she could have used when she was alone and mourning thousands.

Ahsoka smiled, already fabricating part of her plan, “I heard Barriss and Luminara are on planet, so I think I may visit Barriss if I can find her.”

Anakin couldn’t share his own plans for visiting Padmé, but both Ahsoka and Obi-Wan knew he was thinking it. He’d never been very good at keeping the secret, although she wasn’t sure if Obi-Wan had ever thought they’d gone so far as to get married. She certainly hadn’t; Eirtaé had told her in a brief interaction when she’d investigated Padmé’s death.

“Don’t keep yourself too busy, Snips. Take time to rest.”

Her instinct was to simply agree, but that wasn’t the correct option in this situation.

“Trust me, I will,” she said, quicker than she should have. “And you should take your own advice.”

Much to her relief, he smiled, “I’ll try.”

“Both of you need to rest, no arguments about it,” Obi-Wan said, the authority in his voice playful as he turned to leave.

“You need to worry more than anyone, old man!”

Obi-Wan waved a hand carelessly at Anakin’s comment, but Anakin's smile was satisfactory nonetheless. Ahsoka smiled, giving him a high five as he raised his hand towards her. It was the type of dynamic and bickering she’d longed for ever since she’d lost it, but now that she was within it after so much changed, she couldn’t help but feel disheartened with how much would be lost.

“You heading out too?” Anakin asked as she turned to leave, looking to get into solitude as quickly as possible.

“Yeah, I wanna check that nothing was left in my room.”

He stared for a beat too long, and she knew her tone hadn’t been entirely convincing. Nevertheless, he nodded, and she was off. She hurried through the halls, aware that her few belongings were already sitting on her bunk. She wasn’t sure if she could handle a prolonged moment alone with Anakin yet, and not just because she wasn’t sure if she could act correctly for his perception of her.

Before she’d been sent to the past, she had been fighting the man he had fallen into. Seeing his bright, kind self was even stronger than Vader’s blows.

She clipped her lightsabers to her hip and shrugged on her Jedi robe, despite having foregone it most of her childhood. It was heavy and she felt as if it hindered her movements, and while she didn’t disagree with the sentiment, she’d longed for the warmth of it more times than she could count. Besides, she figured she should bring it into the Temple with her instead of leaving it on the ship.

As she looked around the scarce space that only reminded her of Imperial prisons, she sat on her bunk. She’d spent much of her time so far meditating, expecting to find the task difficult with all of her thoughts and emotions so strong. Yet, with the light of the Jedi and the ease in the force, it had been easier than she ever remembered. Her thoughts still gave her trouble, but without the dark side hindering her, she was able to get past them.

She didn’t need to meditate now. Instead, she took a deep breath, feeling the life of Coruscant around her as the ship began to dock.

She could do this. She could get through her interactions with everyone and blame any oddities on the very real fatigue of war or her concerns about what it was doing to the Jedi. She could dodge Sidious and any mention of him, and she could place her plays quickly enough to change the outcome of this war.

Ahsoka wasn’t going to let it all fall to ruins again, no matter what she had to do. Sneaking away and operating in the shadows like she was accustomed to wasn’t an option, but she had lived this life before. She’d known how to sneak around, and she knew when people would be looking and when they wouldn’t. She had the knowledge of a Jedi Padawan living in her current circumstances, and she had the experience that the Empire provided her with.

Nothing was going to stop her. She’d been fighting Sidious from a corner of the galaxy for a long time. She could do the same thing when she was on the same planet as him, or in the same building.

She’d have to.

She stood, opening her door and leaving the small room. At least she wouldn’t be on a star destroyer anymore, and she’d never seen what the Temple had become under the Empire. She’d read the reports, but she didn’t have the firsthand view to compare it to, much to her relief. She could actually bask in the light of the Temple without fearing someone walking around the corner.

Instinctively, her gaze slipped down the hall in both directions, and Rex walked out. She smiled, keeping up her act and letting her genuine reaction at the sight of her friend come out. A small smile even slipped onto his face.

“How are you doing?”

He asked it with more emphasis than necessary, but she couldn’t tell him not to discuss such things in public while they were in public.

“Good. I’m excited to get off the ship for a bit.”

“Ah, can’t say I relate. Although, I’ll be staying in the usual compound in case you need to find me. You know where?”

It was more on the nose than she wanted to be in the middle of the hallway, and she glared at him to show it, but there was nothing to be done.

“Yep.”

They walked the rest of the way to the frontal hangar in silence, no words to be said between them. Ahsoka couldn’t manage friendly banter at the moment, and she wasn’t sure Rex would want to partake in it when it would only be subterfuge.

Unsurprisingly, they found Anakin and Obi-Wan as they departed, and Anakin caught them in conversation.

Ahsoka had already tuned them out because in front of her was the Coruscanti skyline that she hadn’t seen since she was seventeen. She tried not to stare, but the blow of the wind from the speeders flying past on all sides was enough to distract her. The smell of the cool, unclean air wasn’t pleasant, but it was familiar in all of the ways home was.

In the distance, she could see the Senate building, along with the Temple further away. There were dozens of docked military ships behind them, but they were on the far side, so the view ahead was open.

She could see buildings she’d leaped upon when she was being hunted before she left the Order, and she could see the office building that housed an Imperial rebel informant and spy whom she had contacted many times before he was caught— although, she supposed he didn’t live or work there yet.

There were fake, small gardens atop buildings, and there wasn’t a single natural thing around. The wind was enough to topple someone who wasn’t accustomed to it, and her cloak billowed as speeders blew past. Every few moments a horn would honk or engines would huff with a sudden turn.

It wasn’t an enjoyable environment, but she’d grown up there. She hadn’t had a place to call home in her life other than the Temple, and the environment around it came with it as a pair. She couldn’t say she’d ever longed for the busyness of Coruscant, but being back was relieving.

Thankfully, no one had noticed her distraction, but she quickly realized exactly why that was. Further up the platform, with handmaidens and guards and in a conversation with Cody, was Padmé Amidala.

She was so much more than Ahsoka’s memory had ever allowed her to remember her as. She held herself with the regality of a queen, but she spoke with kindness and soft hand motions that whisked through the air seamlessly. Her eyes were warm in their gaze, and her clothes were as elegant as ever.

After learning that she had truly died, nineteen-year-old Ahsoka spent the time she should have been sleeping finding old holos of Padmé and her speeches that had been stolen by the Empire. In the darkness and silence of her small, falling apart ship, she’d let the glitchy holos of Senator Amidala appear before her, life-size and as realistic as it could be; it had never been the same as truly seeing her.

Padmé’s attention wavered from Cody as she saw their small group, her gaze catching Anakin first as her face lit up. She smiled at all of them, but the look in her eyes towards Anakin was one Ahsoka had never seen before. She saw the dorky smile on Anakin’s face, and she always had, but noticing it in Padmé was new.

“Senator Amidala,” Anakin greeted first as she walked up to them.

“General Skywalker, Kenobi,” she looked at Ahsoka with all of the warmth in the galaxy, and Ahsoka wasn’t sure she ever mourned enough, “Ahsoka and Rex. I’m glad to see you’re all home safe.”

Ahsoka was accustomed to repressing the utmost urges to retain formality, and the idea of hugging Padmé like she wanted to wasn’t a plausible one. Yet, as she heard the others respond and knew she had to as well, she considered that it wouldn’t be too out of character for a fourteen-year-old to do.

She stepped forward, impulsively wrapping her arms around Padmé. She didn’t have to think of the comfort she’d provided after Ahsoka was kicked out of the Order for something only she knew she didn’t do, of the hugs after they lost a good man, or of simple laughs and conversations that had provided more comfort than Padmé ever knew.

She didn’t have to remember any of it, not at that moment, because Padmé wrapped her arms around Ahsoka without a second thought.

It was with the willpower of nearly twenty years of hiding that Ahsoka didn’t start crying. Instead, she pulled away from Padmé’s tight, comforting grasp, and gave her the best smile she possibly could.

“I missed you,” she said, attempting to keep the words as light as possible.

“I missed you too,” Padmé smiled, squeezing Ahsoka’s hand. “We should catch up soon.”

Ahsoka couldn’t agree, because if she did she might tell her everything, but she nodded with the same smile on her face.

If Padmé hadn’t been as manipulated as the rest of the galaxy, she could have saved them. A lot of them might have been able to, but Padmé would have truly done it, and there was no room for doubt. Had she survived, she’d have been the leading figure of the rebellion, and she’d have made it infinitely better. Ahsoka knew she was as mortal as the rest of them, but it seemed like she could do anything.

She could have seen through Palpatine and his lies. She could’ve seen the path Anakin was going down. She could have heard Five’s pleas and figured out that the clones—

Ahsoka looked at Rex.

It had slipped her mind that she was still able to do anything about the chips.

For so long, it had simply been a fact of life. The clones had chips in their heads, and those chips had gotten the Jedi killed. She’d thought of the clone's roles in The Purge since arriving in the past, but the fact that she had any ability to change it at the source hadn’t seemed achievable. Except, it very much was.

She had to get Rex’s chip out. Suddenly, there was nothing more important than removing it, no matter what she had to tell him. If she even mentioned ‘Order Sixty-six’, the very drastic event that changed everything, he’d have no choice but to pull out his blaster and lose his will.

The group started down the pathway, the conversation shifting from greetings to their battles. Ahsoka kept her expression open and her outward focus on the conversation, but she had already begun to plot ways that she was going to get Rex to a medbay.

Something had happened to Ahsoka.

Rex understood how difficult it could be to act normal, but so far she’d done a great job. She wasn’t as seamlessly comfortable as she’d been several days ago when she was still mentally fourteen, but considering whatever had happened to her, she was doing a pretty damned good job.

Her reaction to the Senator wouldn’t have been anything to question had he not known that she was mentally from the future, but he did. It was more worrying than anything, for Senator Amidala’s sake, truly.

Yet, he’d seen the moment her expression shifted slightly after she let go of Padmé, and how she’d immediately looked at him. She was still smiling and throwing in random things to the conversation, but her eyes had flicked to him several times, and she seemed to be on autopilot.

General Kenobi departed before anyone else, an excuse about work to be done thrown out. Everyone except for Senator Amidala and Cody knew it was to search for information about Maul, but only Rex and Ahsoka knew the full scope of that truth. Really, it was only Ahsoka.

She wasn’t telling him anything. She’d supposedly been a spy, so the tactical strategy made sense, but in the element that he was the only one she trusted enough to tell the truth of the future, it was beyond frustrating. Her future couldn’t possibly have been kind, and he could only assume that they lost the war and the Republic had fallen. Now, he was quite sure that Senator Amidala must have gone with it. For Ahsoka, a Jedi as talented as the best of them, to become a spy— with an Alderaanian senator— things must have gotten beyond screwed up.

He wasn’t sure how she was acting so normal, not with how concerned she’d been about arriving on Coruscant. He’d expected her to be stony and silent, like how she’d been with him when she initially told him her story. He was trying to pick up on the smaller things, but she was good at hiding them.

She’d stared at the buildings and traffic of Coruscant multiple times, despite having complained about it with him before. She walked on the opposite side of the group from General Skywalker. She’d hugged Senator Amidala like she couldn’t believe she was real.

Now, her attention was undoubtedly on something else. Senator Amidala trapped General Skywalker in a conversation, which he happily went along with as they prepared to depart from the rest of them in the direction of the senate. Rex and Cody shared a glance, rolling their eyes at their constant failure to hide their relationship. Cody tossed his own words into the conversation, almost mocking them even while he asked genuine questions.

Rex didn’t even notice Ahsoka moving until she was almost behind him, looking out at Coruscant.

He nearly jumped, but, “Meet me in the back of the Temple gardens at 2000.”


Her voice was low and a near whisper, and she sounded infinitely older. Immediately she walked back around to his other side and smiled at the conversation going on, not even waiting for a response from him. No one had noticed anything. He nodded in no particular direction, trusting that she’d see it. She seemed to be aware of everything.

“I’m gonna go see if I can find Barriss at the Temple,” she said, starting down the path.

Padmé broke off from her sentence immediately, “I can get you a speeder if you want.”

“It’s fine, I can find my own way after being away for so long. I’ll see you all later!”

“Say hi to Barriss for me!” Anakin shouted.

“Will do!”

He was surprised that she hadn’t accepted Senator Amidala’s request. Based on her reaction to the planet, she certainly hadn’t been there in a long time, but finding one's own way wasn’t an enjoyable task unless she wished to waste time. Considering how she’d acted so far, he had a feeling that was the last thing she wanted to do. Ahsoka wasn’t going to the Temple, but he didn’t know where else she’d go.

“Cody, you wanna head over to the rest of the boys?”

The question was a no-brainer, so they were off in seconds. They caught one of their own speeders and headed towards their designated complex, on one of the upper levels but still closer to the ground of Coruscant, not that they could actually see it anywhere. At least they still got sunlight.

Rex wasn’t much of a fan of Coruscant, like many of his brothers. It was nothing like Kamino or the ships they’d been raised for. The wind was too harsh and the business was chaotic, devoid of the order of a warship. They rode as far as they could in the speeder before hopping off at the closest platform possible to their destination.

“Is the Commander all right?” Cody asked, changing the topic quickly.

Rex didn’t like lying to his brothers, nor lying in the first place unless it was necessary. He supposed that this was necessary, but it was still Cody.

“Honestly, I don’t know. I think the war is getting to her.”

“Well, it’s getting to everyone, but she’s still just a kid.”

Rex grunted in agreement, suddenly aware of how difficult interacting with everyone must have been for Ahsoka.

Cody went on, “You were there when she passed out in the field? What happened?”

“I couldn’t tell you. We were getting cover from the droid ambush and then she was just out. She woke up pretty quick, thankfully.”


“Nothing show up in her med eval?”

“Nope. A bit under-rested, but aren’t we all?”

Cody laughed, “You’re not wrong.”

They walked into the building, ready to train and take their time off.

Three hours after arriving with Cody, Rex excused himself on account of going to a bar and hopped into another speeder. The sky was dark, but the life of Coruscant only seemed more active. It slowed down slightly as he neared the Jedi Temple, but that wasn’t saying much.

He walked around the back of the gardens for ten minutes, perfectly on time. There was no sign of Ahsoka.

She could have gotten caught up with something. Maybe General Kenobi had found something on Maul, or she’d actually gone to the temple and found Barriss Offee. She could have been caught.

They needed to set up a private comm, for situations like this. He tried to hide in the gardens as best he could so as to not look suspicious, but it wasn’t normal for clones to be there. He wouldn’t be able to linger all night, and his excuse to his brothers might end up truthful in the end.

He was beginning to consider when else he could find her, but he heard quiet footsteps and looked out from behind a particularly large plant.

Walking up the large steps, her attention anywhere but the gardens, was just who he’d been waiting for. His instant relief was spoiled by her open-mouthed stare at the Temple, signifying more things that didn’t say anything good for the future.

He didn’t dare call out to her, and finally, she looked away from the Temple to him and walked into the gardens.

“Sorry I’m late.”

He looked around before responding, “You’re fine. Where were you, if not the Temple?”

“Around. Nothing too important, just gathering information. Do you know if there are any ways to sneak into medical bays in your compound and if they’d be empty?”

The sudden shift of her tone was enough to take him back, and he took a moment to answer. He hadn’t known what to expect at their encounter, but it wasn’t an urgent request for a medbay. She didn’t seem injured.

“Can I ask why?”

She opened her mouth before closing it again, her eyes darting around and back to the Temple. It was the first time he’d seen her unsure so far.

“You trust me, right?”

Rex trusted his Commander. He’d trusted the teenager short on experience, despite her lack of patience and knack to follow in her Master’s troubling footsteps. He’d trusted her to have his back and to have her own, although he never minded helping her. If he’d ever had a secret he couldn’t tell anyone else, he would have trusted her.

This was Ahsoka Tano, but it wasn’t his Commander. He wasn’t sure if she was even a General. She hadn’t changed physically, but it was like she was a different person. Her experiences, ones that he couldn’t even conceptualize, had changed her.

Yet, she was still Ahsoka Tano. He couldn’t fault her for what she’d gone through, and he wished he could have helped. He was sure that his future self tried. He wasn’t sure where his Commander was, or if she was coming back, but that didn’t change the fact that Ahsoka was still here in front of him. Time hadn’t changed her trust in him, and he saw no reason he shouldn’t trust her.

“I do.”

“Then believe me when I say there is nothing more important than getting to a medbay right now. Where can we go that’ll be private?”

He didn’t know Coruscant as well as others, but he knew a place, and they were on their way there in seconds. Ahsoka didn’t say a word, her figure tense and her eyes darting around. She’d stared at the Temple until it was out of sight.

It wasn’t long before she was locking the door to a medbay in the Coruscant Guard’s compound, not dissimilar to when she’d first told him her story.

“What are we doing here?” he asked.

Ahsoka’s expression was troubled as she checked the room for any signs of surveillance. Rex’s eyebrows were raised by the time she turned around, standing next to the operating table.

“I really need you to trust me.”

“You know I do.”

She took a breath, “I need you to get on the operating table and let the machine remove something.”

Rex couldn’t help the way he instinctively stepped back, bewilderment undoubtedly showing on his face.

“Excuse me?”

“Please.”

“Remove what?”

She opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

“Ahsoka. Remove what?”

“Your cranial clone chip.”

She took a deep breath after saying it, her knees bent slightly and her stance ready for a fight.

She was scared.

“Why?”

“I can’t tell you. Not until it's out. Please, Rex.”

Any knowledge of the galaxy told him that this was a terrible idea to agree with. To anyone else, she’d seem hostile, with her stance and the way she was asking him. Yet, her eyes were wide and almost frenzied, and she was visibly uncomfortable in the room. Her hands were fisted, likely to keep them still.

It was the most vulnerable and the least focused she’d been since waking up from the future.

“You promise you’ll tell me after?”

“Yes.”

“And it won’t have any bad… Affects? To remove it?”

“No, I promise. It’s not what you think.”

He looked at the operating table and thought vaguely of the chip he must have heard something about in his head.

“Okay.”

“Thank you,” she breathed the words out.

He laid down, looking at the small dome over his head as it lit up. He shut his eyes, listening as Ahsoka typed something and must have run a scan. For a short moment, as he felt something poke his temple, he questioned if he had been lied to entirely. If this wasn’t Ahsoka, but some trick of the Sith or seppies.

The thought was gone as quick as it came as the machine switched off and he sat up. Ahsoka was sitting on the end of the mattress, something curled in her hand and her eyes glued to the door across from the cot.

He touched his bandaged temple, unsure of how he’d explain the bandage. Ahsoka didn’t think any of this through, seemingly. Was getting the chip out that urgent?

“What did the chip do?”

She didn’t look at him, her eyes still glued to the door as if assailants were coming through.

“Every clone has one.”


“Okay…”

“The Kaminoans will claim that it’s to suppress some of the mentality from Jango Fett.”

“Ahsoka,” he said, her head finally turning to him. Her eyes were cloudy and distracted as if she was a million years away; she might have been.

“Really, it can send out certain orders to the clones. You… There’s no choice but to obey. It takes away your will, and when one single order reaches every clone, it’ll be done.”

His blood ran cold. Why would the Kaminoans do that? Who ordered them to do it? He wasn’t sure what use that could possibly have, as not every clone would have the same opponents around them. War didn’t work that way, so it wasn’t exactly beneficial.

His will being taken away was a terrifying thought. Now that his chip had been removed, it was even more terrifying for his brothers, those of whom still had the mechanism in their heads.

“What order?”

She was staring at him, making direct eye contact, but she wasn’t seeing him at all.

“I can’t tell you.”

“You promised. You can’t take this out of my head, tell me my brothers could be forced to do something, and then not tell me what it is.”

He hadn’t meant to get frustrated, not when she was actually scared by the idea, but he couldn’t not know what it was.

She looked at her hand, her fingers uncurling to show a small chip, just as he’d imagined it. Without warning, she snapped it in half, looking back up at him.

“Order sixty-six.”

It didn’t give any context, but she said it as if it made perfect sense.

“If you’d heard that before we took this out, you would have followed it through instantly. Without a choice.”

So, it had happened in her time, he had to assume.


“What does it entail?”

“Under the directive, any and all Jedi are to be executed. Soldiers who don’t comply will also be executed. Escaped Jedi are to be hunted and executed.”

If the concept of the chip had chilled his blood, it was frozen now.

“That would never work.”

It was the only thing he could possibly say, and it made the utmost sense. The Jedi and the abilities they had were leagues above anyone else. With the pure numbers the Jedi had, it could never truly be carried out.

“It did.”

He opened his mouth to ask a question or protest. He wasn’t quite sure what he was supposed to say, but she couldn’t possibly be right. She cut him off before he could get far.

“It was the perfect trick. We got armies, and we became close with them. You know you were never just soldiers, but our friends. Why would the Jedi expect their own friends to turn on them? And, when surrounded by foes as good as clones…”

He recalled her performance against the droids. She’d said she’d faced much worse opponents in similar situations, and he had a feeling he knew what she meant now. The very thought made him feel nauseous.

“All of the Jedi?” his voice was nearly a whisper.

“Most. Practically all.”

All of the Jedi killed off just like that. As Ahsoka had said, if someone gave the order now, it would all change. Would they feel remorse, or would they forever see the Jedi as worthy of being killed?

“How did you…” his eyes widened, “Did I?”

She shook her head, looking back at the door.

“I got your chip out. We both escaped. You… Fives discovered it, at some point, and I assume he got killed for it. When the order first went out, you resisted and mentioned Fives enough for me to figure it out.”

Fives was killed.

Fives would die because of some… plot to kill the Jedi?

Rex felt ill. The Jedi died. It felt impossible, it had to be impossible.

“We have to tell someone,” he said, standing.

Ahsoka grabbed his wrist instantly, her eyes wide and scared. It pained her to talk about this, he could tell. It couldn’t possibly be a good memory, the sudden murder of everyone she knew by people she’d trusted.

She looked just as young as she was, yet simultaneously older than ever.

That didn’t explain why she hadn’t already burst into the Council room and told them.

“We can’t.”

“Why not? We can’t let it happen-“

“We can’t tell the Council,” she said harshly, yanking her hand off of his wrist. “The Council isn’t… Good. Not right now. They’ve lost their way. They’re too intertwined with politics, and if they find out, they’ll spend too much time trying to do anything about it. They might consult the Senate, and the politicians will find out, and then Sidious-“

Her sudden rambling stopped, and she snapped her mouth shut, looking at the door for what must have been the thousandth time.

“Who’s Sidious?”

“I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Ahsoka. Who is that?”

She looked at him, whatever energy had kept her going as a spy for years back in her face, fear gone.

“If I tell you, you won’t be able to act normal. Every time that thing gets brought up, or force forbid you’re near it, you won’t be able to act normal, and it’ll know. I don’t even think I’ll be able to act normal, and definitely not enough to hide it from Sidious.”

“Is that the Sith Lord you were fighting-“

“No. I couldn’t hold my own against Sidious, then or now. We have to be careful about this. It was how I worked before, and it’ll have to be how we work now. Pretend you’ve never heard the name.”

He sat back down, slumping beside her. Once again, her air of authority was back, along with her focus. His fear had somehow stopped her own.

“When will it happen?”

“The end of the war, a bit less than two years from now.”

The fact that the war would drag on that long felt like a stab to the gut, but with the number of chips in the clone's heads and the fact that there was a Sith Lord somewhere nearby, it didn’t feel long enough with Ahsoka’s slow plan.

“Kriff.”

She stood, typing away on the machine he’d been in minutes prior and likely clearing the data.

“I’m sorry to ask this of you, but don’t tell anyone of the chips. I don’t know how to tackle that yet, so, we have to be quiet about it.”

“What do you know how to tackle?”

She looked up from the device, a somewhat grim look on her face.

“Maul, in more ways than I’ve told you. Barriss, for a reason I haven’t told you. That’s it for now, but they’ll both spiral into more things if I avoid certain events surrounding them. And, I’m still thinking. As I remember more things, like I did the chips, I’ll come up with more. I’m already slowly bringing up the flaws in the Council, and if I do enough, maybe it’ll do something.”

It didn’t sound like enough to stop the war, nor the way to save the Jedi, but it was a start. Considering how little time she’d been there for, he couldn’t blame her.

“What’s next, then? While we’re on Coruscant.”

She shut off the device, finished with what she’d been doing.

“I need to actually talk to Barriss. I also want to go into the Jedi archives and see what I can find. I want to avoid the Council and Master Yoda for now, along with catching up with Padmé, as she suggested.”

It didn’t involve too much actual sneaking around, but considering how she’d already started sneaking before meeting with him, he had a feeling there’d be a lot more of that.

“Your reaction to Senator Amidala…”

Her face saddened, “Yeah. But, I’m worried I might be inclined to tell her everything. She’d be a real asset, but she’d also tell Anakin, who’d tell Obi-Wan, who’d tell the Council.”

His eyes narrowed at the mention of Anakin and Padmé together.

He didn’t think Ahsoka was oblivious, but, as a Jedi, it wasn’t something she should know.

Ahsoka noticed his reaction, “Yes, I know about them. I did when I was fourteen, too.”

He chuckled, “I’ve just never heard anyone acknowledge it out loud.”

“Honestly? Me neither, I think. I assume you don’t know they’re married?”

He laughed, assuming it was a joke, but her thin smile said otherwise.

“You’re serious?”

She crossed her arms with ease, looking more like herself, “On account of Bail Organa and one of Padmé’s oldest handmaidens years after the war, yes.”

He shouldn’t have been surprised. It was exactly like the General to have a secret marriage, despite it being strictly against the code he lived by. It was more surprising for Senator Amidala to have gone through with it, but those two seemed as if they could do anything together.

His gaze flickered to Ahsoka, who had stopped staring at the door but was still rather solemn. She was undoubtedly thinking of more plans or her situation; she was about the only one who knew how to save the galaxy and had the means in any way to do it.

“So, we escaped after… the order?”

She tensed, but it wasn’t the panic or fear from before. She nodded.

“Where’d we go after? Was I a spy with you?”

Her expression was as blank as it’d been moments before, but he had a feeling she was debating over whether or not to tell him. Hopefully, she wouldn’t be spoiling his future, as they could keep it from passing.

“No. We split up for safety reasons. We had minimal contact for some time, but the… I believe someone blocked my messages from reaching you for some time. Eventually, though,” she smiled, “I sent some friends to find you, mostly for your aide to our cause, but it was a nice reunion.”

He couldn’t imagine it, but he shared her smile.

“Did I age well?”

Asking about the future in the past tense was odd, but he didn’t know how else to word it. It was technically her past, anyway.

“About as well as I did,” her smile grew slightly.

“What did’ya look like?”

“Mostly the same, I guess. Older. Much taller, though, and I’m not a fan of being short again. Or the growing lekku aches; I’d almost forgotten about those.”

He laughed, “I haven’t heard you complain about it yet.”

“I learned to keep the complaints in. Should I start that more to keep up the act?”

She asked it with humor, but he could feel the curiosity behind the question. She was determined to do this, and she was already good at it. The way she caught details was beyond his scope of attention, and he was quite sure that he had a large one. He supposed that was what came with having your entire life swept away and having the determination to work hard to bring it back.

“It wouldn’t do any harm.”

She nodded, leaning off of the machine and smoothing the mattress. It was time to go, then. He wanted to ask more, particularly about the plans she’d briefly outlined for their time on Coruscant, but he had a feeling he wasn’t going to get a straight answer.

Before she could properly walk to the door, she turned back to him, her smile gone and her face serious.

“I can’t tell you a lot, for both of our sakes. Very few would be able to go on knowing the full truth. But, I want you to trust me. So, when Obi-Wan finds Maul, know that I won’t be ignoring him. If I can, I might even tell him pieces of the truth to get his help,” she raised a hand up as he opened his mouth to protest. “He offered me a chance to join him once, for our mutual benefit, and had I known more, I might have agreed. We have more in common than you’d think, and I know how he ticks. We need every ally we can get.

“I’m telling you now because I can’t have us arguing about this on the ship when it happens, and I don’t want to lose your trust. I’m not sure it’ll even work, but if I can direct his anger away from Obi-Wan and to where it’s owed, we can get real work done. If not, I know I could beat him in a fight. It was a fair fight when I was just a teenager, and I’ve definitely improved more than he has in the past.”

He’d thought they were simply getting Darth Maul out of the way, or that the Jedi Council could do something good for him. But, it didn’t sound like Ahsoka thought highly of the Jedi Council, and he didn’t know what Maul ended up doing.

“That doesn’t sound very Jedi-like.”

He’d never been one to care if his Generals strayed from their strict rules, but he knew that the dark side was a nasty business, and he didn’t want Ahsoka near it.

She frowned slightly, “A lot has changed.”

He now knew part of that, but there must have been infinitely more if she was comparing herself to Darth Maul in any way.

She left first, leaving him alone in the medbay and clueless as to what he was to do next to save the galaxy.

Ahsoka had been through more than he could think of, and he could see how it hurt her; how it changed her. She seemed unbreakable, and she very well might have been, but her moment of vulnerability as he took out the chip showed him something else.

She wasn’t just older and more mature, and she hadn’t just lost her negative traits and gained a maturity that General Skywalker didn’t have. She’d also gotten fearful and distrusting, no matter how well she hid it. He still wasn’t sure if his Commander would ever be back, but he’d do everything he could to make sure that she and everyone else would never have to go through everything Ahsoka had.

Chapter Text

Before Ahsoka Tano, for the second time on the same day, was the Jedi Temple. Not the Imperial Palace, not the hive of darkness, and not a place that she had to steer clear from at all costs.

It was so bright.

Her steps echoed around the sanctity of the Temple as she walked up the grand staircase. It was as if the business of Coruscant was suddenly trapped outside of the Temple, the light keeping it in a bubble of safety and comfort.

The last time she’d walked the same path, it had been on her way out, and she’d never come back. The thought hurt, but it didn’t dim the fact that the Temple was right there, radiating with light.

It was her home. It was the safe haven she’d wished for years. She didn’t frequently have comforting dreams, but when she did, she often found herself in the Temple— although, she’d had her fair share of nightmares within it, too.

It wasn’t that she was back; she wasn’t. She’d gone back in time, and the Temple was just like it had been when she was a teenager. The rebellion hadn’t grown large enough to vanquish the Emperor and she and the few Jedi in the galaxy hadn’t been able to retake the Temple. She couldn’t simply bask in its comfort and the disbelief that it was in front of her at all; she had to act.

She sped up her steps, jogging up the stairs with a comfort that was once familiar. Begrudgingly, she dragged her eyes away from the expanse of the building and looked towards the entrance she was headed toward.

It surprised her that she didn’t remember which pillars she and Anakin had stood between as he asked her to stay. She’d seen the Temple, and that particular moment, thousands of times in her memories. Yet, as most things were, it was different than she remembered; bigger, more decadent, and equally more and less forgotten than she’d remembered at different moments.

She walked into the grand hallways, and for a brief second, she saw the clones marching up behind her, led by their new Sith Lord. She buried down the negative emotions that threatened to rise, aware that the Jedi around her might feel any disturbance. They might even feel her awe and comfort at entering the building, but that’d be easier to play off than unhindered fear.

Such as the fear she’d had when she’d spoken to Rex. She hadn’t meant or planned to react the way she did; she’d thought of Order 66 many times since arriving in the past. Yet, removing his chip in a medbay with such a similar layout to those on the Resolute, she could have sworn she’d heard the clones trying to get through the door and the ship falling apart around them; the light of the galaxy slowly dimming, all while her adrenaline was kicked so high that each death began to feel small.

It was why she’d slipped and mentioned Sidious by name, something she had been determined not to do. She hadn’t meant to tell Rex of Fives’ death, especially when she hadn’t even been there to know the details of it. The situation had been too real, too much of a repeat of the past, and she’d spiraled in a way she hadn’t in a long time.

“Padawan ‘Soka.”

She froze.

It was with everything she had that she didn’t panic or react in any way, tamping everything down in an attempt to be the Padawan that she wasn’t anymore. Her grief was beneath a stack of memories and visions and nightmares that she’d once suffered over, and upon that was the stress of trying to save the galaxy and the pain of being in a place that she knew, without her intervention, and maybe even with it, would fall to ruin within the dark side.

Ahsoka smiled in the best way she could, turning around to look at Master Plo Koon, her heart shattering beneath layers and layers of performances to fool the most empathetic being she’d ever met.

“Master, good to see you,” she bowed slightly, her robes moving with her.

“Same to you, you and Master Skywalker have been out for a long time, if I’ve heard correctly,” he started walking down the hall, and she fell into step with him easily.

“We have. I bet you haven’t been here long, either?”

She’d missed Master Plo so deeply for so many years. She’d also seen his starfighter shot down in her sleep more times than she could count. She almost wanted to act like herself as she spoke to him, as she wanted to know if he’d be proud of how she matured. Instead, she walked with energy and her arms at her sides, looking up at him as he spoke.

“Only several days,” he didn’t look at her, but something about the sense of light swishing around him seemed to shift. “What is troubling you, child?”

She stopped walking, gritting her teeth hard enough to make them hurt. She couldn’t answer that. She couldn’t lie to Master Plo, but she couldn’t tell him the truth, either.

He stopped with her, turning slowly and patiently waiting for an answer. He wasn’t rushing her, despite staring at her. He wasn’t like that.

She’d missed him so much, but she couldn’t tell him.

She slouched melodramatically, shaking her head at him. She was at a loss of words, and unlike when there was a rebellion depending on her, she could give up. It fit the teenager that everyone thought she was, so she could use it.

“That is all right, you don’t have to speak of it. Follow me.”

He turned, and she heard the explosion of his starfighter. She didn’t flinch, but he undoubtedly felt the pulse of emotions. Really, she wasn’t sure she was going to be able to keep up posing as a Jedi for long. She hadn’t been in their strict mindset— really, the mindset of the current Order— for a long time.

She followed him down hallways, mimicking his movements and nodding to others they passed. It was late, but with a wide range of species and, more so, war schedules, that didn’t mean much. She’d moved to be beside him in step, something that hadn’t felt natural to herself but made sense with Master Plo— and for the teenager she was supposed to be.

She realized halfway through the walk where he was leading her, despite how large the Temple was and how long it had been since she’d been there. She’d forgotten much of the details, but being within it again made that feel impossible. The peeling paint wasn’t as accentuated as she’d thought, and the sense of abandonment in the Temple was hard to feel when she was with Master Plo and passing other Jedi.

Master Plo led her into a meditative room, the small window letting in artificial light from the buildings between the blinds. He switched on the low lights, basking the space in a warm light that had already been present in the force.

“Have you meditated upon what is bothering you yet?” he slowly sat on one of the cushions on the floor.

“A little.”

A little was more than he’d expect from her, but it was less than she wanted. Really, she wished she was in the Jedi archives investigating what she could while it was nearly empty, but she’d forgotten about that as soon as Master Plo snuck up behind her while she’d been lost in thoughts she was supposed to be burying.

He nodded, shutting his own eyes. Instead of following his motions, she sat on her knees as she preferred, glancing around the dark room out of instinct before shutting her eyes. She could feel him dipping deeper into the force beside her, the already calming aura around him growing. He wasn’t prodding at her emotions or feelings, he was simply trying to help her sort through them.

She shut off her mind, the thoughts of Master Plo too distracting. She couldn’t think of him without relating him to a crashing starfighter or the corrupt Council or the fall of the Republic as a whole. Instead, she thought of the plains of Lothal.

At that moment, during the Clone War, Lothal was an entirely peaceful planet. They may have had their own problems, but every planet did, and it didn’t destroy their beautiful life and ecosystem. It was peaceful, and even all the way from Coruscant in the core, she could feel it.

She dipped into it, basking in it, and then-

“Too late, for what, the Republic to fall? It already has and you just can’t see it! There is no justice, no law, no order, except for the one that will replace it!”

Her eyes opened and she sucked in a breath. A hand gently set on her back, and she began to shrug it off, before remembering where she was and forcibly relaxing.

The Republic had already fallen.

“Padawan? Are you all right?”

Ahsoka wasn’t sure what state Maul was in. She knew it couldn’t possibly be good, and that he’d be even angrier and much less eloquent than she knew him as.

Yet, his words had been right, all those years ago.

The Republic that was around her was already gone. The Chancellor was Darth Sidious, and he was orchestrating a war that was taking away their already rocky ideals. She’d been so caught up with the fact that she was in the past that she hadn’t considered it; this was the Republic she remembered, and it wasn’t the Republic. It only seemed so honorable to her because the Empire had been so much worse. She couldn’t ignore the shattered Republic just because the pieces hadn’t been refurbished into evil yet.

Rex was the best partner she had, and her best option to work with. Unfortunately, he didn’t know everything, and he couldn’t know everything. Very few people could operate on that information, and somehow, Maul was one of them. It was unfortunate that he’d be locked up most of the time she had to speak to him, as that was the nature of the current Jedi Order.

It wasn't that she wanted to work with Maul. He wanted nothing more than revenge on those who had wronged him, and he couldn’t move his mind off of that. He killed first and asked questions later. But, he saw things that others couldn’t, and he was smart.

She wasn’t as honorable as she was as a Padawan, nor when she was seventeen after leaving the Order. She didn’t cause harm uselessly, but if she could twist Maul’s anger in the direction that’d save the galaxy, she would. If that meant earning the trust of someone she could never trust, then she’d make the sacrifice.

She’d gotten her hands dirty plenty of times, so it would just be another thing to add to the list. She’d already thought of several options for how she was going to speak to Maul and find ways to communicate with him, but she had plenty of tactics for such a thing.

Over time, she’d learned that the enemy of her enemy truly was her friend.

“‘Soka?”

She nodded, sitting back.

“Yeah, I’m good.”

She looked at him, a further direction in her head than she’d had minutes ago. There were many elements to the Clone War and the era she was in, and she was undoubtedly missing things, but every new fact was progress.

She sat back down, falling into meditation with ease. The Temple made it easier than even being on the ship.

Everything was collapsing. The light side was being sucked out of the galaxy, an encounter centered on Coruscant. Ahsoka wasn’t there. She wouldn’t be there when the encounter was over.

Something happened. Something terrible was happening. It felt as if the force was weighing her down, shivers running down her spine as she struggled to keep her footing. She steadied her breathing to the best of her ability and turned around, running to grab Rex.

Anakin. Anakin was in trouble. Something happened to Anakin. The Chancellor was there, and other Jedi, but she couldn’t feel the Jedi at that moment. She was freezing, and she was stuck on a ship incapable of doing anything.

“Rex! It’s Anakin. I feel like something terrible has happened.”

There was no one better to tell of her concerns than Rex. He’d know what to do. He could help, even from the middle of hyperspace.

He didn’t respond immediately. An order came through to the clones, she could hear the vague static and the murmur of understanding in the force. Something had shifted, right before her very eyes, and all she could feel was encroaching darkness.

The clones readied their blasters, and every danger sense that the force had ever gifted her went off like the emergency alarm on the ship.

“No!” Rex shouted, and she nearly let her alarms down. “I’ll do it.”


“Rex? What’s happening?”

This time, he pulled out his blasters with shaky hands.

“Stay back!”

He didn’t want to do what he was doing. She could see it, but she didn’t know what he was doing in the first place.

“Find him… Fives,” she’d noticed Fives’ absence, but hadn’t gotten the chance to ask. “Find him! Fives!”

His blasters went off, and everything screamed.

Ahsoka lurched up, her temporary room in the Jedi Temple a sharp contrast to the military briefing room and bridge she’d just seen.

She placed a hand over her heart, shutting her eyes and making an attempt to steady her breathing. She hadn’t had a nightmare like that in a long time, especially not so vivid.

It wasn’t a difficult question as to why. Despite the chance to fix things, she had to admit that being thrown back to a place where every element was a nightmare couldn’t possibly be good for her.

Someone in the Temple must have sensed her lurch of emotions. Beyond that, they must have sensed the fear, and that was always a reason for the Council to get involved. They didn’t know that she knew well how to keep emotions associated with the dark side under control, just like they didn’t know that she wasn’t a Jedi.

She took a final deep breath and stood, grabbing her lightsabers from under her pillow— Jedi Padawan Ahsoka Tano hadn’t kept her lightsabers there, but no one would notice— and heading to the door. She needed to get out before anyone questioned her.

She sensed several Jedi in the hallways, but that wasn’t unexpected. It would be a problem, and she couldn’t sneak around; if she got caught, it’d be more detrimental than if she got caught in a criminal's lair or the Empire. In those places, she could fight her way out. Here, she had a spin a believable lie, and that was getting more and more difficult.

She looked out of the window. There were Jedi in the courtyard, but no one on the roof— it’d be odd if there was anyone up there. She waited until the time was right, when no one would be watching her, and opened the window as quickly and silently as possible. She pushed it to be nearly shut, but not so hard that it closed entirely and made noise, and jumped into the air.

She landed on the roof with what she hoped were silent steps. It gave her a wider view of Coruscant, but she didn’t have time to marvel. Moves like this were much more her speed than walking around as a Jedi, leaving her able to shut off the parts of her brain that weren’t beneficial and slide down the least crowded side of the Temple.

From there, she caught a speeder, the credits in her pocket that Jedi weren’t supposed to carry coming in handy. He’d undoubtedly seen her coming down from the roof of the Temple. She hadn’t made nearly as much progress as she would have liked the day before when she explored Coruscant, but credits were credits, and she had enough to pay the driver a generous amount.

Her destination was questionable, and undoubtedly a terrible tactical decision. Unfortunately, she couldn’t afford to sneak around Coruscant twice in a row, especially when she didn’t know where any of her closest relations were. If she hadn’t had a nightmare, she may have sought out Barriss, but the last thing she wanted was for her old and estranged friend to question her emotional state.

It wasn’t long before the Senate building came into sight, the rising sun blanketing it. Ahsoka could feel the person she wanted to find, and much more daunting, she could feel Palpatine. Not Sidious, the Sith Lord who was already destroying the galaxy, but the beloved Chancellor who was attempting to end the war. She didn’t prod near him in an attempt to learn anything; it would have been suicide.

Instead, she pointed out the best entrance for where she wanted to go, and the driver took her there. When she handed him thirty credits for a short simple drive, he nodded in a way she’d seen a thousand times before— typically from criminals or those accustomed to keeping secrets for a price. Thankfully, if he was driving on the upper levels of Coruscant, he wasn’t too much of a criminal.

She walked through the halls of the Senate building, darkness seeming to crawl in the corners of the building. It was everything she could do to remain indifferent and not outwardly react to it. It felt the same as being in an Imperial facility.

She was nearly to her destination when Senator Bail Organa rounded the corner. She hadn’t seen him die or watched him fall to evil, but she had built the foundations of a rebellion with him. She kept her eyes forward, giving him a courteous smile that she’d give everyone and hoping he didn’t yet know whose Padawan she was.

She couldn’t be so lucky.

“Ahsoka Tano?”

She turned around, almost having passed him, and smiled.

“That’s me.”

She could only hope that she said it with the happiness of her teenage self. Bail was one of the few people whom she could be entirely transparent with, as scarce as their in-person meetings were, especially in recent years. Putting on a fake face around him felt like a betrayal. It was easy to look at the lack of greying hair and wrinkles for truth, although it didn’t change who he was.

“I thought so. It’s good to see you. Are you on your way to Senator Amidala’s office?”


“Same to you, Senator, thank you. I am.”


“Well, she just returned, so you won’t have to wait. Although, I can’t speak for how busy she is. I’ve heard of you and Master Skywalker’s endeavors lately, and I wish you luck in your next battle.”

“Thanks for the heads up. And thank you, truly. We try our best.”


“I’ve heard you do more than try. Now, I apologize, but I have a meeting.”

“That’s all right, good luck,” she smiled reflexively, the joke coming out before she could stop it in her attempt to act simultaneously normal and abnormal.

For a short moment, she thought she’d fumbled, but then he smiled in a way that was familiar.

“You need it much more than me, but I do appreciate it. Good day.”

He waved and continued on his way. Ahsoka turned around, praying that she never ran into Bail with anyone who knew her well. That had not been the performance she was supposed to give, and anyone else would notice.

It seemed that the longer she stayed and the more complex she became, the more difficult of an operation this would be.

Nevertheless, with nothing else to do without looking suspicious or having a much worse conversation, she rounded the corner and knocked on the door to Padmé’s office. Two senators walked past her as she waited, and she had to carefully remind herself that she wasn’t wanted galaxy-wide.

The door opened, revealing Moteé. Ahsoka had never been particularly close with the handmaidens, but it was odd to see them. The only one she’d spoken to after the rise of the Empire was Eirtaé, thankfully. It was another chance to avoid more bad memories.

“Ahsoka! Senator Amidala is inside, would you like to come in?”

“I’d love to, thanks Moteé,” Ahsoka smiled.

“Of course. She’s right down there,” she motioned into the first room and walked into the second, leaving them to privacy.

Once, Ahsoka had thought that the senate offices were cramped and small, especially compared to the Senators’ personal spaces outside of the Senate building. She’d lost the way of thinking long ago, but the thought returned as she stepped into Padmé’s large space. She nearly cringed at the idea of it being small in any way.

Padmé was seated at her desk, holos displayed at her sides and a datapad before her. Ahsoka sympathized with the position and layout, although hers was typically in a cramped room on a cramped ship. Padmé looked up, her eyes nearly fluttering back down before widening slightly as she realized she had a visitor.

Ahsoka relaxed her arms and posture, noticing how rigid and formal she’d been standing simply to meet a friend.

“Ahsoka! I didn’t even hear you, sorry!”

She stood from her desk, rushing around it as the holos closed and wrapping her arms around Ahsoka. She swallowed her surprise and forced her muscles to stay relaxed, returning the gesture before quickly pulling away. Had they truly hugged so frequently?

“No worries, I get how busy you are. Is this a bad time?”

She held onto Ahsoka’s arm, pulling her to the couch beside her desk. It was much softer than Ahsoka remembered.

“Not at all. It’s always busy around here, so I know how to make time.”

Perhaps this hadn’t been a good idea. It seemed like the best option, as Padmé wasn’t force sensitive and wouldn’t have a chance of having sensed her nightmare, and there was no reason anyone would be suspicious of Ahsoka seeing her. Yet, Ahsoka had told Rex she wanted to avoid having a conversation with her, and it had been for a reason.

Despite it all, Ahsoka smiled, “I know, I just don’t want to bother you.”

“Don’t worry, Ahsoka. I’m here,” her eyes softened. “Now, do I even need to ask?”

“What?”

Ahsoka leaned away on instinct, doing her best to keep her expression level even as alarms rang in her head. Had she forgotten something? It was too difficult to remember every detail of a life she had tried to block out if it wasn’t for important reasons— or had accidentally blocked out when the negatives took over, as she was learning.

“Anakin’s worried about you.”

Oh.

Of course he was. Anakin being worried about her wasn’t a good thing, but it was much less extreme than she’d been expecting. It wasn’t even surprising; she should have known it’d be impossible to be entirely normal around him right off of the bat. She’d have to get there eventually.

She looked down, nodding with a small huff of a laugh. When she met Padmé’s eyes again, the look on her face said that she saw through the reaction.

“I’m not surprised.”

Padmé’s head turned sideways, a slight frown pulling at her lips, “What’s wrong? I heard about you passing out in the middle of a battle.”


Now, she had expected Anakin to tell everyone about that. She already knew how to react— it wasn’t entirely ingenuine, either.

She raised her eyebrows, “Okay, it was not in the middle of a battle. Rex and I were hit by a sudden ambush of, like, five droids. It didn’t even have anything to do with the ambush. Med scans said I’m just tired, which everyone is.”

Padmé turned her head to the side once again, although this time in a mock disappointment. It was kind and chiding, the exact type of look Ahsoka could have used a thousand times over after her passing— after her possible killing.

“So if that’s not bothering you, something is?”

Ahsoka slumped, having failed to notice the habitual posture she used. She picked at her cuticles, her head turned downwards. It was entirely forced and uncomfortable, and it felt wrong to so clearly reveal her discomfort, but it was necessary.

“What do you think about the war?”

“Hm?”

It clearly wasn’t what she’d been expecting. Unfortunately, bringing up the root of the problem to Padmé wouldn’t change anything; Ahsoka was certain she already knew and had thought of it. Nevertheless, it was simultaneously her best cover as to why she was acting strange and a way to get people thinking.

“I mean, you worked against the military formation, right?”

Fourteen-year-old Ahsoka hadn’t known that, but it was public knowledge, so there was no reason she wouldn’t. Padmé shifted, understanding rippling through the force.

“I did. Why?”

“The Jedi are supposed to be peacekeepers, but all I’ve been since becoming a Padawan is a soldier. It just feels… wrong,” she looked up, pushing urgency into her words. “Of course, I don’t mind it, and fighting isn’t terrible for me. But it’s not the Jedi way.”

Her face was etched with understanding, and despite knowing Padmé’s thoughts on the war, it was comforting.

“Have you talked to the Council? I see how they might not be the most… helpful, but surely they could provide some guidance?”

She might as well go all in, she supposed.

“That's just the thing! It’s not just the war, but the politics, and how involved we are with them. Not personally, like me talking to you, but the Council itself. I just…”

Had she ever talked this much? She couldn’t remember.

Padmé set a hand on her shoulder, clearly waiting for a continuation.

“I can’t help but think that if, I don’t know, something happened, where the Council had to choose between the Jedi or going along with the Senate… I’m not sure they’d choose the Jedi.”

It was the first clear lie she’d told Padmé so far; she knew exactly who the Council would choose, and it wouldn’t be her. She met Padmé’s eyes, finding careful consideration there. She hadn’t immediately shrugged off Ahsoka’s reasonable concerns, and as an outsider, she was likely thinking of it for the first time herself. She’d undoubtedly had her own opinions on the Jedi being Generals, but Ahsoka hadn’t been witness to those. It wasn’t hard to assume what they had been.

“You don’t think talking to the Council would do anything?”

It wasn’t agreement or denial of Ahsoka’s words. What they were talking about was a rickety subject, and Padmé likely didn’t want to say too much aloud. Ahsoka didn’t know enough about how she and Anakin truly were alone, but it couldn’t possibly be something smart to bring up to him, either. She was merely offering as much help as she possibly could.

Ahsoka shook her head.

Padmé stood, walking back to her desk and looking out the window behind it. She had on a navy coat that dragged along the carpet slightly, silhouetting her as if she was only a memory.

“Aren't there other locations made by the Jedi?”

“What do you mean?”

Padmé turned back to her, “I feel like Anakin has mentioned other places. Similar to the ones you get your kyber crystals at?”

“Temples?” Ahsoka practically cut her off, but her mind had already begun working.

“Yes, I suppose. Could any of those give you guidance? You’re staying long enough to maybe take a brief trip, right?”

Somehow, without knowing it, Padmé had given her an incredibly specific idea. She didn’t need guidance on the Council, as she’d had her whole adulthood to ponder what they’d done wrong. However, being in the past didn’t change that there was a Temple known to very few to bring deep contemplation.

“I think I know of one, actually,” she muttered.

The Jedi Temple on Lothal.

There was one problem, though. She’d nearly begun making plans for how she could get away alone, before recalling that a Master and Padawan were required to open it. Even more troubling was that she wasn’t a Jedi. She may look like one and be capable of pretending to be one, but the Temple wasn’t going to let her in.

“I wonder if Anakin and Obi-Wan would come with me,” she said, looking at Padmé.

She could feel the small pang of disappointment from Padmé at the thought of Anakin leaving in his already short time on Coruscant. Unfortunately, she couldn’t spare her friend's feelings, as much as she deserved it. She needed to get to the Temple on Lothal, and she needed to get inside.

“I’m sure they would, although Obi-Wan seems quite busy.”

Ahsoka gave the most mischievous grin she could even when her mind was on another planet, “I’m sure Anakin and I can convince him.”

The night before she’d tried to reach out to feel Lothal during her meditation, but she hadn’t been very successful. Now, it was as if nothing shone brighter than the Temple.

It did come with a risk, though.

Sidious would find out about it.

It was a risk she’d have to take. As much as she wanted to deny it, she needed guidance, and no one around her was going to provide it. The Temple on Lothal was her best option, and she couldn’t go alone.

Chapter Text

A cold knot formed in Ahsoka’s stomach as she watched the Jedi Temple of Coruscant disappear. The last time she’d watched it vanish into hyperspace had been her last.

She was on her way to the Temple on Lothal with Anakin and Obi-Wan, and that made it worth it. It hadn’t been too difficult to convince them both to accompany her, especially when she suggested the learning opportunity to Obi-Wan.

Directly after leaving Padmé’s early that morning she’d gone to the Jedi Archives to check that the Lothalian Temple was actually in it to ensure she wouldn’t have to explain why she knew of its existence. Padmé had undoubtedly helped convince Anakin to join her before she’d even found him, and the two of them convinced Obi-Wan with slightly more difficulty. They’d both been adamant about making it a short trip, despite the length of the hyperspace jumps. Ahsoka had forgotten how far out Lothal— and therefore all of her old hideout locations— had been from the Core.

Thankfully, while a single hyperspace jump to get all the way out there had almost been a dealbreaker for Anakin and Obi-Wan, she was more than accustomed to long jumps. Her own paranoia combined with Bail’s thoughtfulness had led to the routine of multiple jumps when they went to secret locations in case they’d been followed. It tended to increase the length of trips significantly, and she’d learned how to deal with it.

Anakin sent them into hyperspace with ease, beginning the long trip. Obi-Wan immediately exited to the small cargo hold, not even bothering to give a fake reason when they both knew he was searching for Maul. It was only once she felt the carefully concealed storm of emotions beside her that she realized she and Anakin were truly alone, and she couldn’t sneak away without truly hurting him.

She stared at the blurred stars of hyperspace, willing Anakin to wait a moment before speaking. She needed a plan, except when it came to him, she couldn’t make one. She needed to tell the truth, but she couldn’t tell her story. She couldn’t let him know she was lying or hiding anything from him. She had to be exactly how her fourteen-year-old self was, except she couldn’t remember the details when the memories were overwhelmed by terror. She couldn’t even panic about her lack of plan about Anakin, because he’d feel it, but she couldn't stuff her emotions inside and operate off of common sense. He’d know it if she did.

“I don’t feel like a Jedi lately,” she said before she could stop it, the need to say something overwhelming in the space between them. It wasn’t even a lie.

He looked at her, bewilderment across his face. She was almost surprised that he didn’t immediately demand why. Her memories of the dark side in him were too prominent to remember his kindness in the small moments. It occurred to her, however, that he could feel her own struggle. Even if he hadn't a clue what it was about, and she didn’t intend on telling him, he didn’t want to make it worse.

She’d missed him.

“Okay,” he said softly, accentuating the word. “Why?”

Now, she had to lie. She didn’t want to, but she was mature enough to know that what she didn’t want didn’t matter. She was the sole individual who knew where the galaxy was headed, and therefore how to stop it. It just so happened that she was seated beside a key factor in the galaxy’s fall.

“We’re just… Soldiers.”

He sighed, looking out at the stars racing before them.

“I get what you mean.”

Her heart stopped.

That hadn’t been what she meant.

Becoming a Sith Lord who assisted in destroying the galaxy hadn’t been what she meant.

He continued, “It’s hard, and believe me, I really do get it. Following our code while fighting in the war… especially when it feels like it’ll never end.”

She took a breath as he looked at her. She knew he couldn’t possibly trust in the Order, but she didn’t know how far it went; how far Sidious had gone yet.

“We’re still Jedi,” she said, forcing her fear down as she realized she’d taken on a lecturing voice. “But… I don’t know if the Jedi are on a good path. I think it’s the best path, but… we all need guidance, I think.”

“How’d you get so wise, Snips?”

As quick as it had come, her fear was replaced with pride. She didn’t push it down in the force, hoping it’d ease some of Anakin’s worries.

“I have a pretty good teacher.”


He smiled.

She grinned, “Obi-Wan really does know what he’s doing.”

She was almost terrified to make the joke, but she needed to do something lighthearted. She had to be normal.

Much to her relief, he laughed, and the sound felt just like waking up to the light side of the force dominating the galaxy. It wasn’t heavy, mechanical breath, nor her name said between a cracked suit and a scarred face with yellow eyes. It was Anakin Skywalker, kind and laughing, and her Master.

“Yeah, old man back there,” he said, shaking his head through a smile.

“We can agree on that.”


They both laughed back into a comfortable silence, and Ahsoka was almost able to relax.

“You know you can talk to me about anything, right?” Anakin asked, his tone suddenly serious.

“I do.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I promise,” she looked at him this time, meeting his eyes. They weren’t yellow.

“Okay. Is this Temple visit related to what we just talked about?”

She looked back out the viewport. She was fully capable of lying while making eye contact, but suddenly, she didn’t want to. This was Anakin.

“I just want some outside guidance. Masters say it’s good for all of us. Besides, Padmé gave me the idea.”

“I heard,” he crossed his arms and stretched his feet onto the dashboard, even if his smile remained. “Now, I am going to catch some sleep.”

She nodded, looking forward. It wasn’t patience either of her old Masters expected her to have, but neither of them would dislike the development. There wasn’t enough time in the galaxy for her to think of everything she needed, so it was as good a time as ever for her to begin.

Unfortunately, she was asleep within several hours. The sudden emotional turmoil she’d been thrown into was exhausting, and it was the first time since she was still a teenager that she was able to fall asleep without realizing it— or being too exhausted and worn out to keep herself up. It wasn’t a long nap, nor a peaceful one, but it was certainly relaxing.

The moment they reached the Outer Rim, she resolved to meditate. It was familiar in an entirely separate way from how she’d felt entering Coruscant. It was different due to the era, but the crime of the Outer Rim had always been there. Beyond that, the very essence of each planet couldn’t change at its core.

She felt many planets that she’d used as hideouts, brief as they may have been. Many of them she’d even forgotten about.

Similar to Coruscant, the Outer Rim wasn’t anything desirable, but they had both been homes in their own way. She’d never considered any place other than the Coruscanti Temple her home, but she’d spent the better part of fifteen years in the Outer Rim, and it meant something. It didn’t surprise her that the planets riddled with war felt just like they had under the reign of the Empire. 


Soon enough, they were past the outreaches of the war, and she had to pray it remained that way. She hoped Sidious didn’t get anywhere close to Lothal because of their visit— or at all. If she was successful, he never would.

She had stopped meditating and found mechanics to fiddle with long before they reached Lothal, but she still hopped into the seat behind the copilot’s when she felt Lothal nearing. She had to pretend she’d never been there before, but recognizing nearing their destination wasn’t abnormal. Anakin dropped them out of hyperspace once again, visibly ready to be finished with the trip.

Ahsoka tuned out of their conversations the moment Lothal came into view, all of the light it held flooding around them. Without the Empire smothering it, it truly was a beautiful planet. She ensured her expression and emotions in the force were neutral, even as she took in the ease that the planet sat with. She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t imagined it without star destroyers in the atmosphere— the Ghost Crew had truly made it seem achievable sometimes. The true sight was lovely.

Anakin steered in the direction of the Temple without a glance at the navicomputer, trusting the bright aura in the force to be the Temple. Even if she hadn’t been there before, Ahsoka would have agreed that he was correct.

She had been there, before, so she recognized it as soon as the large mountain came into view. It had always been fascinating in a way the Coruscanti Temple wasn’t; the relaxing and comforting aura of a structure once unfamiliar to her wasn’t a common occurrence in a galaxy ruled by the Empire or turmoiled by war, so it was hard not to feel drawn to it. Her companions felt the same, just as Ezra and Kanan had once.

Anakin landed relatively close, but not atop it. Even all of his brashness didn’t want to dare impede the Temple.

“I am admittedly much more curious after seeing it. Thanks for bringing us here, Ahsoka,” Obi-Wan said as he stood, leading them onto the ramp.

“It’s more alluring than I expected,” she said, unable to help how amazed she sounded. It was better than sounding as if she was lecturing them. Besides, the Temple was more alluring when the Empire wasn’t somewhere on the planet.

Anakin stepped into the circular lines laid out on the ground, somehow knowing exactly where he needed to be to open the Temple, “I wonder what we’ll find.”

“Only one way to find out.”

Ahsoka smiled at her Masters’ shared glance, agreeing to open up the Temple. She swallowed, following their motions and lifting her hand. She’d been concerned that Obi-Wan would suggest she and Anakin do it alone, which wouldn’t have worked, but he’d always been one for unity. It was how their trio worked.

She didn’t put in true effort to open it, knowing her attempts would fall flat. Much to her relief, neither of them noticed, as the combined efforts of Anakin and Obi-Wan were enough. Anakin may have been knighted already, but it didn’t change their bond, especially not in the force.

She peeked her eyes open when the stone began to turn, rumbling the ground and nearly hurting her head as it scratched against the rocks. Much to her surprise, instead of going up as she’d expected, it moved downwards.

It was incredible. The force never did fail to amaze her with its mysterious ways, especially when they worked with nature. It was only a moment before a door appeared before them, one that had most certainly not been visible from the exterior moments prior.

New door, new problem.

She smiled at the memory of Kanan’s words. For the first time, she recalled that he was somewhere within the Temple on Coruscant. She’d been there for days and hadn’t thought of his presence at all. It wasn’t of utmost importance, considering how young he was, but it was something to be remembered.

“Incredible,” Obi-Wan muttered, mirroring her thoughts from both times she’d seen the Temple open.

“I definitely didn’t expect that,” Anakin said, striding forward with far too much confidence.

Ahsoka followed the two of them, looking at the familiar stone walls. She could see the expanse of a hallway, certainly different from her first time at the Temple. Behind her, she heard the door begin to slide shut, looking at it on instinct.

When she looked forward, about to quip a forced comment, she didn’t see a stony hallway.

Instead, she saw the artificially lit hallway of an Imperial star destroyer. She froze, staggering backward in surprise. The hallway continued behind her, too, as realistic as ever. She still felt the light of the Temple, and she was well aware it was only an illusion, but her fascination— and secret alarm— grew.

Anakin and Obi-Wan certainly weren’t there.

She reached instinctively for her lightsabers, only for her hand to grasp at air. She looked down, finding both of them to be absent.

More surprisingly was how tall she was. She wasn’t wearing her white tights or brown skirt. Instead, she had on her somewhat dirty armored skirt and boots. She held out her arms and glimpsed her lekku, much longer than they’d been minutes before.

She was in her older body and in an Imperial star destroyer. It wasn't what she’d been expecting, but it was curious. Her arm and hip had begun to ache, exactly from where she’d fallen during her fight with Vader. She looked both ways down the hallway before starting in the direction the Temple had led, sensing something to be found.

She slowed and peered around each corner before continuing, in case something decided to surprise her. Being in her older body and able to walk comfortably without the thought of acting like her younger self was already enough to make things easier, but it didn’t change the natural cautiousness she felt due to the location.

Regardless, coming to the Temple was undoubtedly a good idea.

As she continued, it became evident that the ship was damaged. Doors were stuck halfway open and sparks had left charring along the walls. Many of the white lights were out, and there were doors sealed shut with safety devices. It wasn’t typical Imperial protocol.

She could feel something different ahead, so she continued through damaged hallways and followed her instincts. She hadn’t snuck through these hallways as much as many others had, but she had her fair share of experience.

Something in the force seemed to spark up ahead on her left side. A door was stuck partially open, the door controls removed in what must have been a failed attempt to fix it. The ship certainly didn’t feel unoccupied, but the lack of stormtroopers around every corner was telling.

She walked towards the doorway, hiding around the wall. She took a deep, silent breath, and stepped out towards it.

She froze.

Sitting in the center of an Imperial cell, clearly not imprisoned, was a much older Ezra Bridger. He had on civvies, except for the Imperial jacket that he had unclasped over a dirtied shirt. His eyes were closed, clearly in meditation. She almost wasn’t sure if it was real, for he would have sensed her long before she could see him if he was meditating.


“Ezra?”

His eyes opened, and she could see the immediate tensing for battle. It paused, however, as his jaw opened slightly at the sight of her. He was frozen in a crouch, staring at her.

“Ahsoka?” he practically gasped. “How are you- wait, you’re not actually here, are you?”

She wasn’t sure what here meant, but considering that she was physically in the past, it wasn’t her biggest concern. Somehow, seeing Ezra when it should have been impossible and trying to figure out where to go was refreshing. It didn’t have anything to do with saving the galaxy, and that was all she’d been thinking about.

She couldn’t deny that being in a leadership role once again felt good; she wasn’t fond of being a Padawan when she was accustomed to having some sense of leadership— even if it was in the shadows and largely unknown.

“I‘m in the Temple on Lothal.”

He stood up, surprise rippling around them, “In the past?”

“How do you know that?” her head turned to the side quizzically.

“I, uh, think I may have sent you there.”

She raised her eyebrows even as her lips upturned slightly. She’d assumed it was an act of the force that sent her there, but Ezra being behind it made much more sense. He truly had come a long way as a Jedi.

“How exactly?”

He had come a long way, but the look on his face was the same one from when he was younger— the same age as she was supposed to be— and had done something questionable.

“Well, I went to the Temple and sorta broke my way into some… world. I think it was a gateway between worlds and… times. I’ve never felt or seen anything like it. I saw you, and some other stuff, but first I saw you fighting Vader on Malachor. After you pushed us away.”


She could feel the gravity in his voice as he clarified. Sacrifice didn’t tend to please allies, but that hadn’t been her goal. It had been her fight, and they were in no shape to have a part in it even if it had been their place.

He continued, “It was through some sort of portal. He was gonna kill you, so I just… pulled you out. You were injured and unconscious. Then, the portal behind me lit up, and I saw a way younger you and Captain Rex run into some battle droids. You wouldn’t wake up, and that was the past, where things weren’t ruined yet. We’ve been doing our best, but the force was telling me to push you through it. To give you a fighting chance to stop all this before it happened. I thought I saw you wake up but… Did it work?”

A world between worlds wasn’t what she’d been expecting, but then again, neither had waking up in the past.

“Yeah, it did.”

“Really?” he asked, shocked despite the proof right before him.

She nodded, “I did wake up in the past. I’ve been there for a few days, and… I’m figuring things out.”

His smile dropped slightly, as he undoubtedly recalled the pain that all of the survivors had displayed. She’d kept it under wraps most of the time, but she was sure he knew things from Kanan, and the force wasn’t known for concealing one’s true feelings or reactions.

“That must be hard.”

“It’s not easy, but nothing in our lives ever is. I’ve set plans in motion, and Rex knows the truth. Anakin and Obi-Wan are here with me, and I’m putting thoughts into place that’ll hopefully begin to change things. I’m hoping to team up with Maul.”

“Maul?” he stuck his neck out. “That’s a bad idea.”

She smiled, “He offered it to me once, and I know how to avoid the dark side and his lies. If I can manage it without getting caught, it’ll work extremely well in our favor.”

He leaned against the doorframe, clearly thinking it through. Maul had already manipulated Ezra in their short time on Malachor, and she had no clue what had happened after. Years must have passed with how much older Ezra looked. He had reason to be wary, and perhaps she shouldn’t have shared her plans, but he was her ally.

He surprised her by nodding and moving past the subject of Maul.

“I guess, if you’re successful, my family won’t happen.”

She blinked. She didn’t have anything to say to comfort him, and she wouldn’t lie. The Ghost Crew had only met in their fight against the Empire, and the Empire had significant effects on all of their lives.

Ahsoka couldn’t relate to his plight, and she hadn’t considered it once. Her past had always been better than her future, and there wasn’t a single element of the future that she thought was more important than things in her past. Every person she’d been close with would agree that saving the galaxy was more important, and her lifestyle and ships certainly didn’t outweigh life with the Jedi and without the Empire.

She wasn’t sure if she even knew how to be anything except for a spy anymore, or had a true place in the past, but it was precious. She’d wished for a chance to redo things countless times, and now Ezra and the force had given her one.

He shrugged, “But that’s just what we do, right?”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Just, if you can, maybe come find me and push me towards Kanan. Or, I don’t know, get Hera’s parents to teach her more about the Jedi. And… Sabine would be difficult. Zeb too. I’d be grateful, though, if somehow I managed to meet them in that life, too. I already know you’ll succeed, so if you ever find the time, could you try?”

She smiled, “I don’t know how grateful you’d be; I remember Hera telling me quite often that her newest recruit complained frequently.”

He laughed, finally walking into the hallway.

“Okay, I might complain a lot, but the me of right now would be grateful.”

Her mind had already moved on, old names and contacts from the future appearing. She’d thought of many of her teenage contacts, but none of the more obscure rebel ones.

“I promise, I’ll do the best I can. First, I have to try to stop Sidious, though.”

“Hey, come on, there is no try, right?”

“I’m not a Jedi, so technically that doesn’t apply to me.”

She didn’t believe that, but she’d always been one for banter.


“Well, according to everyone in the past, I’m gonna assume you’re a Jedi.”

“You’d be right.”

He whistled, “You have your work cut out for you. But, you always did, so I know you’ve got this.”

She smiled, looking down the hallway as something in the force seemed to sound. Her time was running out.

“Thanks, I’ll need the moral support. I know it doesn’t affect me, but, I have to ask before I go, why are you on a star destroyer?”

“Well, uh, I tried to save Lothal. I don’t know if I was successful since we’re lost in the Unknown Regions on Thrawn’s star destroyer, but we’re working together. I trust my family is saving things at my home. And, you’re saving things in the past. One way or another, we’re gonna win.”


“I wish I could stay to hear that story, but I think someone else needs me. Stay safe.”

“Thanks, you too. I really do believe in you, and I can’t even imagine how hard this is, but you’re Fulcrum. You can do this. Even if you can’t get my family together, come say hi, okay?”

Fulcrum. She shelved the thought for when the force stopped screaming down the hallway.

“I will. Thank you, Ezra.”

“Good luck.”

“May the force be with you.”

They shared a nod and a smile, and she turned away. One way or another, she wouldn’t be seeing him again, not from her time.

She ran down the hallway, feeling it shift around her. The world went wary as the ground changed, and she halted to a stop.

There was darkness nearby.

She stopped, and suddenly the Temple surrounded her once again. She took a moment to blink, the weights of her lightsabers at her hips returning; she was back in her younger body.

When she opened her eyes, she found a large wall right before her. The thing that startled her, however, was that she was face to face with The Daughter. She backed up, staring at a mural of the Gods of Mortis. Behind her was a coo, and when she turned she found a familiar friend; Morai. She’d joined her in the past.

Had Mortis even happened yet? It had been such a fuzzy memory, the act of entering a space between time— just like Ezra had— leaving her awareness of it unclear. She only remembered certain elements, and she was never sure how accurate her memory was. She hoped it had already happened; those Gods would never help keep her secret.

Before she could truly study the mural, the ground gave way beneath her, and she fell.

She landed in a shallow body of water, unsurprisingly uninjured. She’d found the darkness, as not far before her was a cloudy vision of Maul.

It was undoubtedly clearer for Obi-Wan, who stood within it. Was that what she’d just looked like? Thankfully, the misty vision seemed to show Lotho Minor, which was exactly where she needed Obi-Wan to go.

“Obi-Wan,” she said, nearly clapping her hand over her mouth with how formal it came out. She wasn’t talking to Ezra anymore.

At least the darkness wasn’t Anakin. She could vaguely feel him, and whatever the Temple was putting him through was different from her and Obi-Wan. They’d both gotten what they wanted, she figured.

She stepped closer, looking at the figure of Maul. His lower half wasn't the mechanical legs that she expected, but instead a mangled, almost arachnid-like creation of legs. Muffled ramblings reached her ears, and she began to reconsider how she was going to approach Maul. He clearly wasn’t the formally spoken and quick-thinking half-Sith she was accustomed to.

The vision must have been much more complex, but it gave Obi-Wan the answers Ahsoka needed him to find, so she could only hope it only pushed him further. He turned to her, out of the trance of the vision, and they made eye contact.

She opened her eyes, laying in a separate room of the Temple.

The ways of the force were entrancing, but sometimes they were a large pain. She didn’t care what had happened physically, only that nothing had gotten worse for her companions.

She pushed herself up, surprised to find her arm accompanied by phantom pain, similar to the one she’d had from her fight with Vader. She shook her arm, and it was gone.

She didn’t dwell on it, instead standing and walking into the hallway. On one side was the distant door, now opened.

“You’re up!”

In the other direction was a circular room, similar to the one from her first time in the Temple. In the center was Anakin, standing before the same mural of the Mortis Gods she’d seen moments ago. He stood before the Son, and the sight gave her chills. Morai was only a painting on the wall, but her wing was outstretched compared to before, and it was a reassurance.

“Have you been here the whole time?”

There was a brief shuffle, and Obi-Wan walked out of another open doorway, closer to Anakin’s than her own. He looked much rougher than her.

“Uh, yeah! You two were all over the place, and I was just here meditating.”

She stared at him, allowing her jaw to fall open. Had he really not seen anything? Anakin was the most lethal of all of them, so she’d expected his experience to be telling of the future. She’d been left meditating her last time in the Temple while Kanan and Ezra had unique experiences, but even she’d seen and heard visions.

“You didn’t experience anything?” Obi-Wan asked, just as perplexed.

“I mean, I heard some voices, but nothing I haven’t heard before.”

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow, but Anakin didn’t elaborate.

“What did you two see?”

Kriff.

“I saw Maul,” Obi-Wan said flatly, a new certainty in his expression.

“Really? Do you know where he is?”

“I think I may,” he turned to her. “Did you experience anything?”

“I think I saw my future self.”

They both looked at her, and she wasn’t sure she should have said it.

“Did you find guidance?” Anakin asked, surprising them both.

She already had an answer for that.

“I think I did. Just knowing the Temple is here and the Jedi exist further out is enough.”

He stretched his arms, “Well, we should probably get out of here before one of you gets sucked back in.”

Obi-Wan was visibly perturbed that Anakin hadn’t experienced anything, but he didn’t have to hide it. Ahsoka could show her curiosity or surprise, but the level of worry that came with knowing what Anakin became wasn’t something she could display.

“Good idea.”

Fulcrum.

Ezra had told her she was Fulcrum, and he wasn’t wrong. She was doing the same job here that she had in the future, although in a much different sense.

Saw Gerrera was out there. Ahsoka was sure that she hadn’t encountered him yet in the past, but that didn’t change that he was functioning, and the Fulcrum name already existed. Just as the channels he used did, and she’d been able to slice them before and use them to avoid being noticed.

There was even a ship full of components that she could steal from to make a base communication device. She’d need a covert place to keep it, which would be the most difficult part, but she already had plans. She needed to make a safe house.

They’d only have a few more days on Coruscant once they returned, and likely even less for Obi-Wan. Ahsoka walked into the ship alongside her companions, somehow much more sure of her actions than she was before speaking to Ezra.

Chapter Text

Ahsoka and both Generals had disappeared.

For several long minutes, Rex had thought she’d told them the truth, and perhaps it had gone wrong— or, something had gone right, and their combined battle strategies led to them charging up to Darth Sidious.

Then, Echo informed him that they had gone on some sort of trip to a Jedi Temple on the outer rim. He’d heard others talking about it, those of which had gotten it from General Skywalker. Rex had been left out of the conversation, which wasn’t abnormal when off duty but was incredibly inconvenient when one of the Jedi was secretly a time traveler.

It had undoubtedly been Ahsoka’s idea to go to the outer rim. He’d never heard of any Generals going on a small trip in their already small time on Coruscant, especially not his brash general. He was admittedly anxious about how it came to happen.

He walked into the meal hall, glancing at the chrono. They were being sent back in four days, so he doubted the Jedi would be gone much longer. It wasn’t as if he was with them very often when on-planet, anyway.

Echo’s loud laugh reached his ears, and he looked to his table. It wasn’t very busy, so most of the boys were gathered in the same area. He partially listened to the conversation as he grabbed his tray. It wasn’t anything interesting, and he was more distracted than he should’ve been.

He couldn’t stop thinking about what Ahsoka had told him; Order Sixty-six. All of his brothers could still carry it out, and in her timeline, they had. He’d survived with her, but he was able to read between the lines in her words. It hadn’t sounded like any of his brothers had joined them.

Every last Jedi was killed by them. If Ahsoka hadn’t come to the future, he’d have attempted to kill her. If things had gone differently when she got his chip out, he might have. He couldn’t imagine the clones being capable of killing a Jedi, but it was undoubtedly true.

The Jedi were vanquished, and the Sith won. The Republic couldn’t have survived.

“Fives, you okay?”

He turned to the table, his tray full of food. He tried to uplift his expression to ensure no one noticed anything amiss. He wasn’t sure how Ahsoka did it.

“Yeah, my head’s just killing me.”

Rex looked up to see Fives holding his head. His fingers were pressed to the side of his temple.

The chip.

Ahsoka had said Fives died because he discovered the chip.

She hadn’t given a timetable or the circumstances, and she might not have even known them. She likely hadn’t meant to say such a thing, but she had, and Rex couldn’t let his brother die right in front of him.

He absolutely could not let his brother be killed when he had the means to stop it.

“So is mine, after I scratched it up in combat training,” Rex said, setting his tray on the table. “Wanna come to the medbay with me to get it checked out?”

“I’m good, I don’t think it's anything serious.”

“There’s no harm in getting it checked out,” Wolffe said from the trashcan. Rex didn’t know him particularly well, but he appreciated his contribution.

“You never know what it could be,” one of Cody’s boys said; Rex believed his name was Gregor.

Fives shook his head, “It’s just a headache, boys.”

“Come on, I’ll come with you,” Rex said, standing as if his food wasn’t still warm.

Fives was finished and would undoubtedly leave soon, and Rex couldn’t be overly obvious. The other boys had done that for him, and he appreciated it.

“You just sat down!”

“Eh, I’m not that hungry anyway.”

“I’ll take that, then,” Tup said, grabbing Rex’s tray and sliding it down the table.

He laughed, standing and clapping Fives on the back. The laugh felt like ash in his mouth, and he watched cautiously as Fives stood. There was no disorientation or mindset shift as if he lost his will when it came to the Jedi. Nevertheless, Rex couldn’t risk leaving it in. He didn’t want to risk it for any of his brothers, but he knew Fives’ fate.

They walked out of the meal hall, both of them laughing off the shouts that briefly followed them. Fives pressed his hand to his head once again.

“What happened to your head, anyway?” Fives asked.

He’d thought through this lie dozens of times during the restless night prior.

“Honestly, I’m not sure exactly. Something in the training room. I didn’t notice ’til I got out.”


“Usually that happens in battle, not training, you know.”

“Trust me, I do. I just got caught up.”

“Yeah, well, we are here on a break.”

“I’ve been reminding myself of that,” Rex said, letting Fives step into the medbay first. It wasn’t as far from everyone else as he wanted, but he wasn’t going to be able to manage that. Fives already didn’t want to come.

He followed Fives in, shutting and locking the door. Before Fives could turn around and react, he raised his blaster and fired a stun bolt into his brother. Ahsoka was not going to be happy.

He couldn’t let him die, though.

“Snips, how long are you gonna be in there for?”

“Don’t get gas poisoning.”

Ahsoka sighed, pushing her small communication mechanism back into its corner for the thousandth time as Anakin peered into her hole in the floor. She’d peeled off the flooring with an excuse to fix up Anakin’s busted ship hours prior, and it had worked well to get her the components necessary to establish an encrypted Fulcrum channel. Unfortunately, the cover also included fixing up Anakin’s ship.

“Well, if you actually took care of your ships, it wouldn’t take so long, would it?” she snipped.

It almost felt good to talk so freely and confidently, displaying an attitude that she still had internally, even if she preferred to conceal it. Rex— future Rex— would have cackled if he heard her.

“No one asked you to!” Anakin said, a smile on his face as he walked back to the cockpit.

“I’m thankful for it,” Obi-Wan said. “Otherwise, we might not make it back.”

Obi-Wan had already shared his plans for when they returned. He wouldn’t be joining them on the Resolute, instead taking a small council-appointed team and going to the planet he knew Maul was on. He didn’t share it with them, likely so that Anakin didn’t tag along, but Ahsoka had seen Lotho Minor displayed on his datapad.

She hoped that by some miracle he returned before they departed. She didn’t want to wait months to speak to Maul— she didn’t have the time to wait months. Time was ticking, and it was already going by quickly. She wasn’t doing enough fast enough, and she could see it.

“Why do you think I’m down here?” she asked with a partial grin, sticking her head back towards her own device.

“I get it, I get it!” Anakin shouted, although his own smile was audible in his voice.

It was only after silence had filled the ship once again that Ahsoka realized she was still smiling.

The rest of the trip didn’t last long, and she pocketed the pieces to recreate her mechanism. She had two comms linked to it and the base channel itself in its own small device, that of which she’d leave in her future hideout, simply as a backup. She had to get to finding and making the hideout, but first, she had to escape Anakin and Obi-Wan and find Rex to give him the comm.

With only an hour left, she climbed out of the floor, vocally declaring it repaired as she pushed the flooring back into place. She’d truly done a large chunk of work in it, as the comm hadn’t taken as long as she thought it would, and she needed to keep her cover. Anakin would likely look at her handy work later, and if hardly anything had been done, he would get suspicious.

When no one responded, she raised her eyebrow at Obi-Wan. He was staring at the wall, undoubtedly seeing something else. Ahsoka could’ve made fun of him as she once would’ve, but she understood what he was going through more than he knew.

“You okay, Master?” she kept her voice down.

He snapped out of his trance, straightening to look at her. She was perched on the floor, her back to the wall and her legs stretched across the cold floor. It was surprisingly comfortable.

“Yes, sorry. Did you say something?”

“Not really,” she could have left it at that. She probably should have. “Are you thinking about what you saw at the Temple?”

He sighed, leaning back on the bench, “I am. You were there for part of it, right?”

“Just the end. I fell through the floor and found you.”

He nodded, looking at the floor with the most forlorn look possible. She wanted to ask what else he’d seen, but then he’d ask the same of her, and she didn’t have a proper excuse ready. She couldn’t think of one that fit every necessary box a lie needed to.

She wanted to help comfort her old Master, even if in his mind, he was still one of her Masters and she was an overzealous, intuitive Padawan. Unfortunately, she couldn’t blow her cover. She couldn’t cause suspicion. If she did, it’d get back to Sidious, and that would make problems.

So, she stayed quiet for the remainder of the trip. It was merely another sacrifice she had to make in order to defeat the Empire, and she’d made plenty of those.

It turned out that she didn’t have to escape or make excuses to Anakin and Obi-Wan when they returned, anyway. Obi-Wan was rushing off to prep a team to head to Lotho Minor, and Anakin slipped away with his own poor excuses while he headed to Padmé’s office.

For a moment, as she stood at the ramp of the ship, Ahsoka huffed a laugh to herself.

Then, she remembered that Anakin would fall to the dark side and Obi-Wan would die or spend his life hiding. The Temple she was in would be turned into the Imperial Palace and the Jedi within it would be dead.

She needed to get her comm to Rex. With a glance at the empty hangar, she headed towards the entrance and grabbed one of the speeders. There weren’t many, and she was sure she’d been told not to use them in the past, but she didn’t much care. She probably hadn’t cared then, either.

Soaring through the skies of Coruscant never got old. Her mind was firmly on excuses if her Fulcrum comms were found, and how she could communicate those to Rex, but the wind smacking across her face was hard to ignore. She didn’t get to ride on speeders often, especially not so high up in the air as she whipped around buildings in the sky.

Instead of parking the speeder at the correct location at the clone compound, she settled it beside a building across the way. It wasn’t technically a parking spot, but there were other speeders there, so it’d be fine. She’d parked things in worse places.

She jumped into the air, grabbing onto the clone compound as gravity took effect. Hanging off of the side of the building, her hands pressed on the wall and her feet balanced on the ledge, Ahsoka shut her eyes. She could feel Rex within it, but she needed his exact location. She focused on the beings within the structure, swaying on the ledge.

She felt a pang of shock to her upper left and opened her eyes, jumping to the next ledge. The wind didn’t make it easy, but she had her bearings. If she recalled the layout correctly, then Rex was near the medbays. As she looked through windows close to his location, it became clear that he was in a medbay. There couldn’t possibly be a good reason for that.

Her hands clasped the window ledge that he was within, her fingers pale as she tried to keep hold of the narrow piece of curved concrete. She planted her feet against the wall and raised her head to the window.

Rex wasn't the only one there. Seated on the operation cot was Fives, a bandage over his temple. Ahsoka’s fingers tightened on the sill, and she lowered herself slightly. She knew she shouldn’t have told him about Fives. She hadn’t meant to, and her slip-up could cost them highly.

They were arguing. Rex was standing across the room, clearly defensive about something. Ahsoka couldn’t hear, but after a moment, she saw her name pass over his mouth.

Perched on the edge of the rooftop at half a kilometer in the air, Ahsoka sighed. She’d dealt with her orders being disobeyed before. Some of her most trusted rebels would act against her information if they saw fit to it, and more often than not, they’d die for it. At least a dozen times she’d thought they’d get the entire rebellion exposed. It had felt like everything was falling apart, and she’d never come back from that.

Now, she truly only had one chance; one chance where she knew all of the cards that were going to happen. She knew how things were going to play out, and therefore how to stop them. Everything truly would fall apart if Sidious found out. If anyone other than her very carefully selected individuals found out, Sidious would find out.

She raised herself onto the ledge and allowed both clones to see her before shattering the inoperable window with the force. Fives stood immediately, his eyes wide and his expression frantic.

Was this how he’d looked when he died the first time?

It didn’t matter, she supposed.

“Ahsoka,” Rex said. His expression didn’t display guilt, but he clearly knew she wasn’t happy with this arrangement.

“If you’re Ahsoka,” Fives immediately said, wariness evident in both the force and his stance.

She grabbed a spare sheet and four pins, securing it over the window for privacy before turning back to the mess before her. She considered humoring what Fives had said, but instead, she looked at Rex.

She’d never technically been a leader in the rebellion, not when she’d given information from the shadows. Even when the rebel cells began to unify, she merely acted as a consultant, even if Bail labeled her as the secretive highest-ranked official on each ship she stepped foot upon.

These were her friends, but just as the rebels had, they’d acted against her information.

Her expression to Rex was a question, and he understood clearly.

“I told him about Order Sixty-six and got his chip out. And I told him how I knew, and how you knew.”

“Yeah,” Fives cut in, “And I’m not convinced you’re not a Sith tricking us.”

She sighed, shutting her eyes momentarily before looking between them both. Her arms were behind her back and, despite being shorter than both of them, she felt as if she was looking down on them.

“Why?” she asked Rex calmly. She could see the chip displayed on the table.

“His head hurt in that exact spot, and you said he… so, I put the pieces together.”

“That wasn’t how it happened,” she said, her childish voice firm. “Nor was it so soon.”

“Is anyone listening to me? What proof do you have that you aren’t a Sith? General Skywalker said you weren’t just acting weird, but felt weird in the force! How can you explain that?”

That was troubling, although not surprising. It was worse that he was telling people. If he told the clones, then Sidious undoubtedly knew.

“I am Ahsoka Tano, trust me. Rex can tell you I’ve given proof.”

When she looked at Rex, his expression was wary.

“Rex?”

“I didn’t know General Skywalker said that,” he said, his eyebrows furrowing.

If she were less experienced, she might’ve felt hurt. Her emotions were buried beneath formality and strategy, so she buried that along with it. She probably wouldn’t believe a story of time travel, either.

She didn’t know what she’d walked in on, and she wanted answers. She needed to know exactly what Fives knew and needed to stress the importance of him not telling anyone.

“It’s not easy to be a Jedi in my future, so I’m not one.”

“You’re a Sith?” Fives nearly shouted.


“No. I’m a force user, and I use the light side. That doesn’t make me someone who follows the Jedi religion. It hardly exists.”

Fives’ expression relaxed, so she could assume Rex had told him all he knew about her future. Rex, however, had narrowed his eyes.

“Rex?”

“You said you went to Malachor with two other Jedi.”

“And I did.”

She didn’t know how this had turned into her being questioned. She couldn’t blame Fives for the wariness, but she’d thought Rex believed her entirely.

“Then why are they Jedi and you’re not?”

“There are some things I told you I wouldn’t tell you-“

“Not this. Not when it comes to the Sith.”

“This isn’t about the Sith. It’s about my choice of being a Jedi or not.”

Fives stepped closer, “Why aren’t you answering the question?”

There were many things that she strategically couldn’t say. Things that Rex wouldn’t be able to go on normally knowing, and when he couldn’t hide it, they would happen again. Then, there were the stories she didn’t want to tell.

She turned to the sheet flapping against the broken window, pretending that there was a view outside of it.

She owed Rex as much transparency as she could give without sacrificing the fate of the galaxy, she supposed.

She raised her chin and spoke as if she was giving a briefing, “There was a Temple bombing, I was framed, when the Senate asked the Council to expel me for an impartial trial they did exactly that, and when I was found innocent the Council offered to accept me back and claimed it was the trial for my knighthood. I didn’t accept.”

The room fell into silence, and the questions finally stopped. After a long moment had passed she turned back around, looking at two stunned faces.

“Do you believe me when I say I’m Ahsoka Tano from the future now?”

Fives nodded slowly.

“That’s why you said the Council is too involved in politics?” Rex asked, and this time, guilt was displayed across his face. Ahsoka didn't like it.

“No, that’s not just why. It’s part of it, but there are countless examples.”

“When does it happen?”

“Over a year from now, and I know how to stop it. Now, what happened?” she gestured between Rex and Fives.

“He stunned me and took the chip out, then started rambling. Is it all true?” Fives said, sounding somewhat bitter about it.

“If it’s what I told him, then yes. And you cannot tell anyone about any of it. Not your brothers, not Anakin or any other Jedi. Don’t mention it to either of us.”

“Wouldn’t it… make sense to tell people?”

She could have been polite. She could answer kindly and give firm reasoning, just like she’d done for Rex. But, she was exhausted, and whatever lightness the trip with her old Masters had given her was gone. Her role was as clear as ever, and she wasn’t going to neglect it.


“Do you want to tell the Jedi and watch them tell the Senate, and then watch as the man behind all of this found out and activated the chips?”

Understanding— and the same dread she was familiar with— crossed his face.

“I get it. But shouldn’t we start taking out more chips?”

“We can’t get all of them out. I’m figuring out a solution to that, but I’ve only been here a few days and it’s hard to sneak away, so you’ll have to wait,” she turned to Rex. “Rex, don’t act on information when you don’t know it all, please. We can’t have others finding out about this. I shouldn’t have told you that, and I get why you may have assumed, but please.”


He nodded, “Sorry. I couldn’t let a brother die.”

He looked at Fives, and they shared a look. It could have warmed her heart, but instead, it scared her. She didn’t entirely agree with the Jedi’s view on attachments, but that didn’t change that they could be dangerous.

“I understand, but that wasn’t what was going to happen,” she pulled the comm she’d made for him out of her cloak. “I made this. It’s encrypted and made through an already existing channel, independent of the Republic.”

“How? When?”

“On the trip back from Lothal. In the Temple, I was given guidance from the future, and it reminded me of how I operated before. I went by the codename Fulcrum, and when you refer to our current… operation, I suggest you do the same.”

“Can I get one?” Fives asked.

“I don’t know if I want that many around, but I’ll try to find the pieces. I’m going to set up a safe house in the lower levels, so I’ll send the location through this channel soon enough.”


“A safe house?”

“Yes. It’s for emergencies and for me to keep things like this comm system. Also, if anyone does discover the Fulcrum comm, I did build it off of an already existing channel from Onderon. Our story is that we were looking into something you accidentally found, and it’s a group of rebels there.”

“Woah,” Fives said. “How’d you come up with all this?”

She was a spy. She’d been doing the same thing since she was a teenager, and even sometimes as a Jedi. She’d spent most of her life in hiding.

“It’s what I do.”

Fives sat back down, “So, what was the trip to the outer rim for? The General said he wasn’t even sure.”

“It was to a Jedi Temple on Lothal. I frequented there before— in the future, so I figured I could find guidance there. I did.”


They both raised their eyebrows.

She sighed, “I spoke to one of my old allies. A young Jedi, apparently the one who sent me here.”

“Ally from the future?”

“How?”

“The force.”

“Of course.”

She watched as Rex clipped the comm onto his armor, entirely unsuspicious. She nodded, mostly to herself, and pulled back the sheet she’d placed above the window.

“I should go. You two have probably been here far too long.”

“Were the comms why you came here?” Rex asked.

She nodded and pulled her own comm out of her pocket to show him. She hadn’t made this confrontation easy, but she wasn’t trying to.

“I won’t tell anyone,” Fives said earnestly.

“I’m not worried about that. I’m worried that your emotions and reactions will tell people enough.”

She prepared to hop onto the window ledge and make her way back out, but Fives stopped her.

“Then how do you do it?”

She turned to him, raising her eyebrows.

“I mean, you’re pretending to be young. And a Jedi. And like you don’t know everything.”

“I’m a spy. It’s what I’ve done for a while.”

“I don’t know how you do it. It’s almost perfect.”

She climbed onto the ledge, holding the top of the window with her hand. The wind was already threatening to push her over, but she could handle it.

“I guess I’ve fooled you as much as I have everyone else.”

She stood as much as she could and leaped onto an unsuspecting driver's speeder, hoping that Rex and Fives could come up with a good enough excuse as to why the window was shattered and they both had cuts on their head. She jumped off of the moving speeder and landed on the ledge she’d parked beside without a stumble, startling bystanders nearby.

The mutters of the ‘damned Jedi’ were a reminder of public opinion, although she’d hardly forgotten. Her jumping across speeders was highly hypocritical, but she had a role to play and very narrow ways to achieve it.

She hopped onto her own Jedi speeder and sped into the skyline. Fives knowing about everything wasn’t ideal, and she wasn’t pleased with it, but it was yet another obstacle. She didn’t intend to bring him on any plans, but Rex didn’t have much place in them yet, anyway.

She couldn’t even remember why she’d told Rex. The past and future had been mixed up in her head, and she hadn’t worked out how careful she needed to be yet. She should have waited, and had she done so, she’d have chosen not to tell him. It was too late now.

The small hangar at the bottom of the Temple engulfed her, and she parked her speeder. Anakin was with Padmé, Obi-Wan was probably already off-world, and she’d just been with Rex. She didn’t have many others to go to— she still needed to avoid the Council at all costs.

She settled for heading towards the Jedi Archives. It wasn’t unexpected for any Jedi to be curious about what was in there, and she could find useful information. She’d wished multiple times to have had access to them, and she’d sent more than a few rebels on chases based on a single rumor of a holocron on the black market. Hell, she’d gone on those chases herself. The information in the Archives wasn’t to be underestimated.

She’d been there once already to ensure the Temple on Lothal was recorded somewhere, but she knew the way easily. She hadn’t frequented the Jedi Archives as a Padawan, but her memory of the Temple was unlike anything else. She knew every corner and hallway, despite its size.

A familiar signature perked up in her senses, and she hurried to rush around the next corner. Master Plo had snuck up on her, and she’d been unprepared to speak to him. Thankfully, this time, she’d thought ahead and made a plan beforehand. She hadn’t expected to implement it so soon, but there was no time like the present.

Barriss was in the hallway around the corner, and Ahsoka had to stop her from attacking the Temple. It was fresh in her memory after telling Rex and Fives about it, which wasn’t the best thing, but she buried it down.

With a deep breath, she backtracked from the corner, looking behind her and spotting Barriss. She waved as if she hadn’t seen her beforehand, and her estranged friend returned the gesture and headed toward her.

Ahsoka hadn’t spoken to Barriss since the investigation of the Temple bombing, and she hadn’t seen her since the trial. She’d never visited her in prison after leaving the Order, and that was a decision she had spent hours pondering after the fact. She’d always been left to assume that Barriss was killed by the clones, and had she not been, Ahsoka feared finding her as an Inquisitor; she never did.

“Ahsoka! I heard you were back.”

Her thoughts caught up with her, and suddenly Barriss trapped her in a hug. She returned the gesture kindly and pulled away, looking at the face of someone she’d expected to never see again.

“Yep. I can’t believe we’re back at the same time, how lucky is that?” she asked, the words too big for her mouth.

Barriss had been pushed to the edge by the Order and their war. She’d been entirely correct in her reasoning for the Temple attack, even if Ahsoka wasn’t sure if she’d ever have been able to forgive her. Barriss had also shown her how the current Order truly treated their own, and she was thankful, in a way.

As they fell into step, unsure of where the other was going but close enough not to care, Ahsoka wished she’d visited Barriss in her cell, no matter how many awkward confrontations with the Jedi or military it might have taken. They could have talked it out and begun to mend their friendship, even if it would have been destroyed months later by the Empire. Ahsoka didn’t believe that Barriss had turned to the dark side, as Yoda had claimed the Jedi behind the attack did. She’d been misled, and it had been the Council who pushed her to the edge. 
/p>

Besides, Barriss hadn’t meant to frame Ahsoka, she’d come to realize. Enough time spent pondering the evidence and the way it went showed that Barriss hadn’t had a plan past killing Letta, which must have been a panicked reaction— when she was trained in a war she didn’t want to fight in, no one had a right to act surprised if her first instinct was violence— especially not the Jedi.

“Extremely. I was hoping to find you yesterday, but I heard you went to another Temple?”

She nodded, “Yeah, and I dragged Anakin and Obi-Wan with me.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less. Why’d you go?”

Teenage Ahsoka wouldn’t have felt it, but with the clarity she had in the force, she could feel the pangs of curiosity from Barriss. She was likely already unpleased with the war and the state of it, so perhaps she was wondering if Ahsoka felt the same way.

She figured that Barriss didn’t have anywhere to be immediately and sat on a nearby bench, looking out the window at the Temple gardens. Barriss joined her without protest.

“Honestly, I’ve been feeling weird about the war and the Jedi’s part in it lately.”

Barriss’ chin turned just enough to be noticeable. Barriss had never been brash or quick to act in the way Ahsoka was— that was, until the Temple attack— so it wasn’t surprising for her reaction to be small. Despite it, she knew for a fact that Barriss agreed with her statement, even if that feeling hadn’t grown strong enough to act on yet.

Ahsoka simply had to acknowledge it, give her someone to speak to, and make sure she didn’t act on it in such a volatile way. Speaking to the council or getting their attention was absolutely necessary, but that wasn’t what Barriss had done. She’d bottled her emotions, as she’d been taught, until they spilled over and she did the only thing she could think of. After being raised in war and told to repress all negative emotions or questions it shouldn’t have been surprising.

“Really?” Barriss asked quietly, looking both ways down the hall.

Ahsoka nodded, lowering her own voice, “It feels like we’ve lost our way. I’ve seen… the public’s thoughts about the Jedi, and I don’t agree with them all, but fighting like this doesn’t feel right.”

She nearly added in the fact that they were both children, but teenage Ahsoka never would have said that. Even if she’d been able to see the flaws in the Order before they’d been forced into her mind, she wouldn’t have thought of that aspect; she’d thought they were ready.

Barriss didn’t respond, but her jaw had opened slightly.

Ahsoka played a card that she didn’t enjoy, “Do you think that’s crazy?”

“No,” the response came quickly. “Not at all. I don’t think you’re wrong.”

“Really? It just feels-“

“Like a betrayal?”

Ahsoka had been keeping control of every reaction and speech thus far, but she broke her own rules as her eyes widened. It was a foolish mistake, one she wasn’t prone to making, but she hadn’t expected to hear such a thing.

What Barriss ended up doing was a betrayal, but her thoughts on the matter alone were enough for her to feel that way already. Had she simply stopped caring by the time she set up the Temple attack? Ahsoka shut her mouth and tried to hide the minuscule reaction and stuff away thoughts of a future that she could prevent, but it was too late.

Barriss had already begun to panic, “I didn’t mean-“

“I get it. I honestly hadn’t thought of it so clearly, but that’s probably why I’ve been so scared to bring it up to anyone. It’s against everything everyone believes, right?”

She hadn’t soothed Barriss’ worries entirely, but she visibly relaxed. She opened her mouth once before closing it.

“And you’ve always been the one who sees things so clearly.”


Ahsoka’s heart ached with the memory of hearing those words from Barriss before. It had been one of their last interactions, so she’d always remembered it.

“This isn’t a clear subject,” she said.

Barriss nodded, “It did seem like fighting suits you, though.”

“It does. But, it doesn’t suit everyone, and it’s not the Jedi way. Honestly, I think the problems might go even deeper than the war. Like withholding emotions, and the way we go about attachments. You know I’m pretty bad at that, but I don’t think it's a bad thing.”

A Jedi made their way around the corner, and Barriss’ eyes went as wide as saucers. Ahsoka didn’t look over so as to not cause suspicion, and she mentally wished for Barriss to do the same. She didn’t, but she did smile at Master Sinube as he walked past.

Once he was past, Barriss looked at her, a sort of sorrow crossing her features.

“Do you really believe all of this? I’ve never heard anyone else mention it, so it feels as if you’ve read my mind.”

It was more vulnerable than she’d ever been in the past towards Ahsoka, and she appreciated it. Beyond stopping the Order from putting themselves further down a dark path and pushing Anakin closer to the dark side, Ahsoka hoped that by possibly preventing Barriss’ Temple attack, she could help her old friend. She could keep her from ever touching the dark side and feeling hatred toward the Jedi, even if they certainly didn’t deserve fairness. Barriss didn’t deserve that, just as none of the Inquisitors had.

“I do, I promise. I wanted to go to the Temple in the outer rim for clarity, and it gave me some.”

“How so?” her question was soft-spoken, but there was an eagerness in the silence.

“It’s not all Jedi that are losing their way. If I learned anything, it’s that clarity in the force still exists, and it’s only the Order that is straying, not the Jedi as a whole. It means it can be fixed.”

“But the Order contains most Jedi-“

“I know, but I mean the Jedi as a whole. The beliefs and history. The Jedi living on in the force. We can still right ourselves.”

It felt wrong to call herself a Jedi, but she was doing what had to be done. She was telling Barriss the truth about what the Temple had shown her, although the Lothalian Temple visit that gave her faith in the Jedi had been in the future and her past.

Barriss sat up straighter, a small smile gracing her features. Ahsoka wished they could have been friends for longer, and in a much more relaxed setting. Fighting a war together made seemingly inseparable bonds, but it took away their chance of actually experiencing friendship in the true sense. It wasn’t as if Ahsoka knew much about that, but she did know that her childhood had been stolen.

“You’re right,” Barriss said. “I just don’t know how we’re supposed to fix it.”

“We can take it slow.”

If Sidious found out such a thing was brought up, he’d do something to stop it. Ahsoka wanted to comfort Barriss and provide her the support system she deserved, but she couldn’t have her acting on her thoughts, for her own safety— and the good of the galaxy.

“Yeah. We can be kinder on the battlefield, and such.”

Ahsoka smiled, “And eventually, maybe we can bring it up. I just don’t know if right now is a good time.”

“I’m far too scared for that. I’m happy to have you in my corner, now, though.”

“Same to you. But, we’re not alone, remember?” she wanted to continue speaking to Barriss, but she sensed a familiar Jedi coming down the hallway. She managed to hide her instinctive reaction and kept her hands firmly away from her lightsabers.

“Of course.”

Just as they both stood, Anakin— not Darth Vader— walked into the hallway, spotting them both with a grin on his face.

“Ahsoka! I’ve been looking for you.”

“You found me,” the words came out easier than she’d expected.

“Hello, Master Skywalker.”

“Barriss, hi! How are you?”

He was surprised to see her, but his friendliness came off immediately. Barriss smiled, and Ahsoka could feel a glimmer of recognition. Ahsoka had mentioned her thoughts on attachments, and here she was with her overly attached Master. Barriss wasn’t blind to that.

“I’m actually quite good, thank you. You?”

“Uh, rushed,” he turned to Ahsoka. “Obi-Wan just left me to go to a Senate event without him while he chases Maul.”


She didn’t say that there would be no chase to find Maul as he sat on Lotho Minor, nor that finding Maul was more important.

Going to a Senate event could be an extremely good chance to gather information on the state of the war. She knew the details of the battlefields and the top layer of the politics, but she’d never gone past that as a teenager, and too many records were destroyed by the Empire for her to know everything. She could make the most of the opportunity, even if it would involve interactions she didn’t exactly want to have.

“And you’re asking me to go in his place?” she asked flatly, crossing her arms.

“You always know the answers, Snips,” he grinned, pulling her into a half-hug— she forced memories of Vader as far down as possible and kept her muscles relaxed.

Her eye roll was almost instinctive, but she turned around to Barriss. She couldn’t name the carefully concealed emotion in the force, but something told her Barriss could sense Ahsoka’s emotions more than Ahsoka wanted.

“I’m going to go meditate, now. I was headed to do that before running into you.”

“Okay, thanks for delaying that to talk. We have to speak soon before we both leave.”

“We can try. Goodbye Ahsoka, Master Skywalker.”

“Bye!

“Tell Luminara ‘hi’ for me,” Ahsoka said, pulling away from Anakin.

Barriss nodded as she turned away, leaving the two of them alone in the hallway. Anakin grinned as he began to walk the other way, telling Ahsoka that the event was likely soon. Anakin was rarely on time for anything, but it was even worse without Obi-Wan to remind him of things. For all she knew, the event had already started.

“It’s in the Senate building, I assume?”

“Yep,” he said. “And it starts in ten minutes.”

She sighed, “Of course it does.”

No matter who was there, she could get vital information that she wouldn’t find on the holonet or hacked channels. If Anakin was willing to go then Padmé would undoubtedly be there, along with Bail and Mon Mothma. Ahsoka could force her way through interactions with them, and other Senators would be easier as she didn’t know them as well. The less she knew them and vice versa, the better.

She needed information, and this event had fallen into her lap. Hopefully, it wouldn’t end up backfiring. If it did, she was nothing if not adaptable.

Chapter Text

Ahsoka and Anakin walked into a crowded room of the Senate building, full of politicians and their assistants.

Ahsoka didn’t know what the event was for, but it clearly wasn’t aimed at a particular side of politics based on the attendees. With how busy everyone was, it was almost surprising that so many Senators showed up. The event must have been aimed at getting votes in some way, or at one of the few common denominators of all Senators of the Republic.

Ahsoka wasn’t a politician, and she’d never wanted to be, but she knew a damned lot about politics. It was impossible not to in the time of the Empire and with her job. Unfortunately, Imperial politics were different, considering that the Senate was nothing but a prop. The Senate had no true power in the later years, not under the reign of the Emperor. These Senators at least believed that they had the ability to change anything.

She noticed as soon as Anakin’s gaze caught Padmé, following his eyesight. She was in an intense conversation with Senator Riyo Chuchi, a name Ahsoka hadn’t recalled in years. Anakin headed in Padmé’s general direction, grabbing a drink and snacks as he went while he waited for her to finish. Ahsoka walked with him, bumping her shoulder into his to make fun of him. He promptly ignored it.

“Master Skywalker, Padawan Tano!”

Ahsoka turned around first, smiling at Senator Bail Organa for the second time in only several days. She’d rarely seen him so frequently in person. Of course, this wasn’t the same Bail, but it was still a refreshing sight. She toned down her instinctive relief from seeing him to a normal, slightly awkward, polite level.

“Senator Organa, it’s good to see you again,” she said as Anakin hurried to finish eating whatever desert he’d grabbed.

“Agreed!” her former Master said as soon as he finished, leaning away to wipe his mouth.

Bail chuckled, “Same to you both. I heard Master Kenobi was supposed to come as well?”

“He had to attend to an urgent matter, unfortunately. Ahsoka’s here in his place.”

Bail looked at her, “Ah, your first time at one of these?”

She didn’t know. She knew she’d been to some, but she couldn’t remember how old she’d been or when it happened. She smiled, preparing to nod her head in a neutral motion, but Anakin saved her.

“Yep. She’s growing up so fast.”

She laughed politely before remembering to cross her arms and look at Anakin abashedly, but neither seemed to notice the delayed reaction. The event was formal, so her brain was telling her to act formally, not like a teenager.

Bail laughed, “I’ve heard they all do.”

He’d find out one day after he adopted his daughter. He never told Ahsoka much about her seeing as most of their communications were over comm, but she knew he’d adored her.

“Seems like it.”

“Yes, well, I must be getting around to other Senators. Have a good day, my Jedi friends.”

“You too,” Anakin said.

Padmé had finished her conversation and had already begun covertly heading in their direction, so Anakin was off in seconds. Ahsoka smiled to herself and moved to grab another snack before infiltrating their small moment together.

“Commander Tano.”

Ahsoka didn't freeze. She had been a spy long enough not to freeze or react. The whole time she’d been in the past, she hadn’t been able to stuff her emotions down. She had to act like her younger self, and being emotionless or having on a thick mask would jeopardize that.

Now, she took every strong emotion within her and stuffed it as far down into herself as she could, effectively burying them further than she did on her most covert mission. She opened the airlock on all strong feelings or thoughts and let them out, ensuring not even the most dangerous Sith Lord in the galaxy would sense it.

Acting so barren wouldn’t be good, either, but there wasn’t any way to win entirely in this situation. It was either to let her extremely potent feelings and thoughts about Darth Sidious reach him, or shut down and give him more ammunition to manipulate Anakin with.

Ahsoka turned around, plastering the best smile on her face that she possibly could as she looked at the Emperor himself. She had to smile, she had to keep her emotions down, and she had to act as normal as possible. There was no room for mistakes. If she left her true emotions accessible in any way, she’d fail, and the rebellion would die; the Empire would rise.

She had to keep her emotions down.

“Chancellor,” she said with far too much bravado. She didn’t have time to overthink it, she had to act on instinct and not emotions, or something would escape.

Even under the iron fist of the Empire, when she hid in her ship and risked others’ lives for the slightest bit of information, she never came face to face with Sidious. She’d never been face to face with him as Sidious, only as the Chancellor, when she was entirely unaware of his identity and role in the war.

She shoved the thoughts and feelings down as deep as she could, swallowing it all and begging the force that he didn’t catch anything. She’d learned not to rely on the miracles of the force, but she was staring the greatest evil in the galaxy in the eyes.

“It’s good to see you,” he said, accentuating each word.

“Same to you. I wasn’t informed you’d be here tonight.”

Teenage Ahsoka Tano didn’t talk that way, but there was nothing she could do about that, and it was better for her to be overly formal and stiff than for him to know.

“Yes, I don’t suppose you would’ve as a late addition. Please do send General Kenobi my regrets that he couldn’t come here.”

Maul had been Sidious’ apprentice, of course, he knew-

“I will, but I’m hoping he’ll be back before we depart again, so maybe you’ll get to tell him yourself.”

That wasn’t how she was supposed to talk to the Chancellor. It wasn’t how anyone spoke to him, not with his prestige and power. He was the Emperor, she couldn’t speak casually to the Emperor— for a short second, in a betrayal of every effort she had made since Rex pulled his blasters on her roughly fifteen years prior, she wondered if she could kill him then and there. It’d ruin her cover, but that didn’t matter when all she wanted was to stop Sidious and save the galaxy.

She attempted to hide it, but she knew it was too late. Not a single glimpse of emotion crossed his face, but there was no doubt in her mind that he’d felt the flair of resentment and determination that she’d been unable to hide.

“We shall see,” he smiled. “Say hello to your Master for me.”

Ahsoka didn’t pull her emotions out until long after the event ended. She spoke to Anakin like a robot and talked politics with Padmé, but all of the words felt like a buzz in her ears. She was more than accustomed to working under duress, but the reactions of those around her should have been worrying.

If she’d prioritized the opinions of her supposed friends, she’d have let out the absolute devastation that had filled her, and Sidious would have found out even more.

It was only three hours later after she’d stowed away in a laundry room on level 1313 that Ahsoka wrapped herself in a firmly concealed mental bubble and planted her hand over her mouth, her mind filled with memories of speeches from the Emperor and the destruction he’d cause.

He knew.

He didn’t know everything, and he never had, not even in the future, but he knew enough. He knew she knew something. He knew that Jedi Padawan Ahsoka Tano wasn’t as blind as the rest of the galaxy and that she held a deep resentment for him that she was able to masterfully conceal for most of their interaction. He didn’t know her plans or her secrets, or that time travel was achievable, and he never could.

She had to speak to Maul and get the plan going. She couldn’t wait two years for the war to hit its climax to slowly fix things. Sidious was too good for that, and he wasn’t going to let her foil his plans.

There were going to be a lot more targets on her back, and she might have to falsely improve her fighting skills faster than anyone would realistically believe. Anakin might start noticing her lies or excuses more often, and Sidious would use that to twist him further to the dark side.

She hadn’t known Sidious was going to be there. In hindsight, she should have considered it, but the possibility of gleaning more political information had blinded her. She’d never heard of the Chancellor attending minor events, but the neutrality of the event itself explained his appearance.

She nearly called it bad luck, but she knew damn well that there was no such thing as luck. Everything in the Clone Wars was carefully orchestrated, and there was no doubt in her mind that his appearance had been as well. She’d seen him speaking to Anakin at one point, as she’d been speaking to a rodian senator. She hadn’t watched or attempted to listen to what he said.

It felt as if the dark side was back, filling up the galaxy just as it had in the future. It had wrapped around her and spilled like oil, suffocating everything else.

The light was still there. She could feel it, and she hadn’t grown accustomed to it compared to the darkness of her future. Yet, the sudden darkness was everything she was trying to beat, and it was devastating to feel it once again.

He couldn’t know. Even if he found out she knew every detail of his plan, he couldn’t know she was from the future. If Sidious knew that traveling to the past or future was achievable, and he unlocked that ability, he would never be stopped. She couldn’t let that happen.

There was a swish to her left, and a teenage Raffa Martez stepped back at the sight of her. Ahsoka had sunk down to the floor at some point, staring at the wall as she used to in her ship in the early days of the rebellion. She looked at Raffa, her heart sinking. She hadn’t been able to recall if Ziro had already escaped prison to be the cause of the Martez parent's death, but the answer was staring her in the eyes.

Raffa recovered from her surprise quickly, “Who the hell are you?”

She hadn’t liked Ahsoka in the future when Ahsoka only tried to help her and wasn’t a Jedi, but now Ahsoka sat there in Jedi robes after swishing the door open with the force earlier.

“Ahsoka,” she admitted.

Raffa didn’t know her or the Jedi. There was no one for her to get back to. Even around Rex, who knew enough of her story for her to be comfortable with him, Ahsoka couldn’t be entirely herself. She hadn’t been unabashedly herself in a long time, not with the rebellion to handle.

“Okay, Ahsoka, what the hell are you doing in my business?”

It hadn’t yet occurred to Raffa that Ahsoka was a Jedi.

“I’m sorry. I need a quiet place to go, and I saw this one.”

She hadn’t seen it, actually. She’d gone there on instinct, left without a hideout and awareness of only one true place in the lower levels of Coruscant. With the chaos of the lower levels, Sidious wouldn’t be able to feel her as clearly, and she’d been waiting to feel his dark invasive presence— it hadn’t come.

Raffa was younger, and somehow, that made her even more suspicious. She hadn’t been the best at deals when Ahsoka knew her, but she was likely horrid now. Ahsoka had never known her well enough to truly know how her mind worked, but Trace had told her bits and pieces, and Raffa knew what it was like to feel alone or empty. She likely knew what it was like to need a quiet place.

She didn’t shut the door, but she did walk in. Her unsure gaze stuck on Ahsoka for a long moment. Then, she began checking the washers for anything left behind as if she wasn’t even there. Ahsoka leaned against the wall, watching as one of the many victims of the Clone Wars tried to make enough to support two people, all while allowing a stranger to take a short refuge in her business.

Ahsoka appreciated it. She didn’t want to go back to the Temple and put on her act yet. Before, in the future, her undercover missions had never been so suffocating. She could duck into an alley or a public restroom and take a second to breathe, and no one around her would notice. That wasn’t possible here.

There was a chance Anakin was wondering where she was, but it was more likely that he was at Padmé’s. Ahsoka didn’t want to worry about revealing more things to Rex— somehow her only true ally had become tiring; telling the truth proved difficult— but she had nowhere else to go.

That was, she didn’t have anywhere else to go yet. She hadn’t set up a safe house and had very little clue of where to put it, but now was as good a time as ever. Obi-Wan was off-planet, Anakin was preoccupied, and she could lie to anyone else.

She waited until Raffa was nearly finished checking the washers before standing and silently moving out of the open door. She pulled up her hood, wishing a silent farewell and good luck to her two old friends in their lonely home. It was probably for the better if they never got involved with her, but she hoped Raffa would know when to stop.

Ahsoka nearly forwent an elevator, prepared to hop onto a ship for a free ride further down. Then, she remembered the rightful public opinions of the Jedi and the need for secrecy in her hideout. She walked into a small elevator and clipped her lightsabers uncomfortably to her back, where her cloak would hide them. With the knowledge that she had another cloak in her room at the Temple, she ripped off the lower half off and created small holes for her montrals.

She had to play the part. She hadn’t been very good at it her first time sneaking around the Coruscant underworld, but she had more experience than when she was sixteen and on the run. She may not have known Coruscant as well as the outer rim, but she knew how the galaxy worked, and that’d be enough.

She’d never been below level 1312, but she took the elevator down to level 876, determined to make a safe house worthwhile. Immediately she took to the shadows, finding that she wasn’t alone in them. It wasn’t a surprise, so navigating her way through people and obstacles wasn’t difficult.

She didn't know the specific cultures of the Coruscanti underworld, especially so far down, but she did know the crime world. At a certain point, the two seemed to intertwine, and she’d been on enough crime planets to know how to make her way around. A good safe house didn't have to be entirely private and unreachable; only the important contents left in it had to be. She’d made do with much worse spaces.

She had checked several buildings that failed to tempt her when she nearly fell into a large garbage chute. The bottom of it was visible only because of the flames sprouting out of it, burning anything that dared to fall into the hole.

Ahsoka could have walked away, but instead, she searched the walls. People had made hiding spots in much more dangerous places, and to those who lived around this obscenity, it was probably the norm. She moved towards it, and with a wipe at her sweaty forehead, she hopped into it.

Her hand caught the ledge, and just as she’d been hoping, there was a door not far below it. It was close enough for someone without the force to get in and out of if they trusted their agility skills enough. She pushed herself towards the wall, swishing the door aside and letting go of the ledge as she rolled onto the ground.

The room was exactly as she’d expected. It was as hot and dark as the rest of level 876, although someone had taken the time to put a light at the center of the roof. It was spacious, slightly bigger than her room at the Temple. There was a disgusting couch against the wall, and a rug rolled up on the other side. She kicked an empty can out of the door and into the garbage chute.

It was undoubtedly some kids’ hideout, but she could make do with that. She kneeled at the back wall and pressed her hand to it, reaching into the force. It wasn’t hollow, which was preferable for a hideout.

She pulled out her private comm and hoped that Rex was awake, unsure of how late it had gotten.

“Rex?”

The room only buzzed with static.

“Rex, do you copy?”

She sighed.

“Rex.”

She was about to stick it back under her sleeve, but the static was interrupted by a click and a curse.

“Commander?”

“Good morning. Can you do me a favor?”

“It’s the middle of the night. Why, uh, are you contacting me?”

She smiled at the pathetic cover.

“This is a secure channel, Rex. I’ve used it before. I wouldn’t be alive if it wasn’t.”

“Okay,” he didn’t sound convinced. “What are you doing? I thought you were at the Senate thing.”

“I was. I’m on level 876 now, and I need you to bring down a vibrosaw and a vibroblade.”

There was a long beat of silence, “What?”

“I’m making a safe house. I’ll send you my specific coordinates, but I don’t have the supplies right now, and I want to get this done now.”

“Okay…”

“Thanks. I’ll see you soon.”

She put away the comm and looked back around the room. With nothing to busy herself with, she chose the least disgusting-looking spot on the floor to sit down and meditate on.

Ahsoka Tano of the future had said and done a lot of confusing things, but practically ordering Rex to go deep down into the Coruscant levels with power tools in the middle of the night had to be one of the most confusing.

He knew she’d been wanting to make a safe house, and he hadn’t been exactly sure how she planned to do that right under the Jedi’s noses. It made sense for her to have some outlandish plan for it, considering that she did for everything else, but he didn’t expect it. When the boys had talked about the Jedi attending a senate event, he’d taken that to mean that she’d be busy at the senate event. Then again, he wasn’t sure if she even slept, so he wasn’t sure why he was still surprised.

He pulled the hood of his cloak further over his face. He was on level 876, just as she’d told him, and it was just as he’d always heard it’d be. He’d never been lower than the surface.

He couldn’t help the feeling that everyone was staring at him. With the public opinions of the war, and how those opinions varied largely by class, he had a feeling no one around him would be happy to see a clone. It wasn’t as if he couldn't handle himself, but Ahsoka undoubtedly didn’t want any signs pointing to the location of her safe house.

It was still a mystery to him why she even wanted a safe house. It seemed like a priority to her, but she could easily hide things in her normal dwelling areas, especially with her tactics of sneaking around. It seemed like an unnecessary risk.

Then again, she’d been on her own and out of the Jedi Order for longer than she’d originally stated. He was still having trouble accepting the fact that she’d truly been expelled, but it cemented her reasoning for not trusting the Order. Even with the truth in her eyes and every standoffish way she’d talked about the Jedi, he could hardly believe it. The Jedi would actually cast out one of their own for politics?— When he worded it like that, it didn’t seem far-fetched.

He arrived at the coordinates she’d given, pausing as he found that he was in the middle of two blocks. In front of him was a large trash chute that almost resembled the portals scattered around for ships to go up and down through, except the heat filtering out of it signified that it was undoubtedly not for ships.

For the umpteenth time, he pulled on his hood. He stood in the center of an opening, and the last thing he wanted was to be recognized just as he arrived at Ahsoka’s assumed safehouse. He was about to find a shadowed corner to hide in when something tugged on the back of his mind, and he stepped closer to the gaping trash chute.

It was there that he saw a handle and an opening not far below the drop. As a sign, there was a flash of a blue and white striped montral, and he cursed the fact that Ahsoka had only grown more out of the box as she got older.

With a sigh, he turned to face away from the chute and hopped backward, throwing his arms upwards to catch the ledge and sighing in relief as his feet hit the bottom of the doorway. Ahsoka would have caught him if he’d fallen, but that was never something he enjoyed. He pushed himself through the small doorway, catching his arms on top of it but stopping himself from falling onto the ground with a sudden couch in his way.

“You definitely don’t want to touch that.”

He pulled back immediately, looking at the dirtied sofa armrest he’d leaned on. The rest of the small room seemed to be in a similar state. Ahsoka was standing next to a wall, her arms behind her back and an amused look on her face.

“This is your hideout?”

“I make do with what I can find, and this is better than I expected. You brought the tools?”

It wasn’t hard to imagine why she had that mindset, but he wasn’t sure he could agree. With a sigh, he pulled his bag off of his shoulder and tossed it towards her. She caught it easily, immediately pulling out the vibrosaw and dropping the bag on the ground as she turned to the wall.

“What’s it for?”

It was usually hard to get annoyed at Ahsoka Tano, but she was being cagey. Something had set her onto one strict path, but he wasn’t sure what could have happened at the senate event. She had already knelt down and stuck the very edge of the vibrobade into the wall.

“This room itself isn’t private, as you can tell. I didn’t expect any location to be. So, I need to make a cubby that is private and hidden. This is just a rendezvous place for emergencies and for me to keep certain things at,” she turned to look at him, a kind look flashing through her eyes as if she was simply his commander again. “Thanks, by the way. Sorry for dragging you down here.”

Hesitantly, he leaned against the wall, narrowing his eyes at whatever she was doing. She’d pulled back the vibrosaw after not even making a dent.

“It’s all right, I wasn’t sleeping very well anyway. Sorry about earlier, too. I’m not sorry for trying to save my brother, but, I shouldn’t have questioned you like that.”

She looked back at the wall, sticking the saw in another part of it and once again pulling it out without a dent.

“I get it, really. It’s not an easy story to believe.”

He nearly added something else, curious about other details, but she seemed stressed enough. Her hand was raised over the invisible holes she’d made, but he couldn’t see any change in the wall.

“So, if you’re trying to make a cubby… what are you doing?”

“It’s a trick I made ages ago. Cut small, invisible holes in the wall, and then push the pieces behind them out slowly. Eventually, I’ll be able to pull out a piece of the wall with the force and put it back without a single mark showing, and before I put it back, I’ll carve out enough space to put things in. No one will know it's there, even force users.”

He didn’t get it, but it was clearly working, “Cool trick. You got more of those, I assume?”

“In their own situations, yes.”

She still looked like a teenager. Physically, nothing had changed from when she’d been easily joking with everyone and far too reckless. Yet, as he watched her slowly carve an invisible hole in the wall, he could have sworn she was older. Her montrals seemed taller and her face seemed longer.

He blinked, and whatever he’d imagined was gone.

“Something has you rattled.”

They hadn’t been very personal thus far. Of course, she’d told him some incredibly vulnerable stories, but in her mind, those were all tactical. Beyond that, they hadn’t truly been friends.

For someone who’d been a child merely a week prior, he hadn’t been doing nearly enough work to check on her mental well-being. With how she acted, it felt like she was too far gone to even check on, but he felt bad for not trying. Before she’d told him and Fives her story about the Order, everything she’d said had been galaxy-wide. That was personal, and it was her own decision, and somehow it opened his eyes to the fact that despite being an adult, she still had emotions and deserved support for them.

“I can’t exactly tell you what it is,” she didn’t look away from what she was doing.

“Not at all?”

“Just know, there might be a lot more targets on my back. Things might be derailed from what I expect.”

He leaned off of the wall, “What does that mean?”

“I screwed up,” she violently pulled the vibrosaw out of the wall. “Pretty badly. It was an impossible situation, and we’re lucky that was the only screwup I did, as far as I know, but the sooner we end things, the better.”

“Does this have something to do with Darth Sidious?”

For the first time, she paused what she was doing. Her eyes were still on the wall, but she only stared.

“Yeah.”

“Are you all right?”

She resumed her work, “I’m fine. I acted weird around Anakin and Padmé, which will cause some problems, but it's better than the alternative.”

“Which would have been…?” he was asking questions, just like he’d wanted to avoid, but he needed some sort of context.

“Being caught.”

She was switching between the knife, the force, and the saw. He’d stopped trying to figure out her method, but her relentless working was unsettling.

“Has that happened to you before?”

She paused once again, and he thought he might’ve gone too far.

Instead, “No. I’ve never actually been face to face with Darth Sidious. Technically, in the future, I had my fights with the Empire, but I always won.”

“The Empire?”

“What the Republic turned into. I guess I never told you the name.”

The Empire.

It felt like something out of a holovid some of the boys liked to watch. As if it was some sort of corny story about the future. With a name like that for the government ruling over the galaxy, it wasn’t even surprising that Ahsoka had a reason to fight it— other than being ruled by a Sith Lord.

He could have continued pressing, and if it wasn’t about her selective vital pieces of information that she refused to share, she might have told him more. He chose not to.

“So, do I need to come to this safe house at all?”

“That’s hard to answer. In an emergency, it’s where I’d usually go, but this scenario is different from anything else. There are other safe places. Still, it’s like an ‘if there’s nowhere else to go’ room. It’s not like we’ll be on Coruscant much, so it’s really not that useful, but I always like to have one.”

“Got it. It makes sense. I’m just not used to hiding, I guess.”

“Hopefully you’ll never have to be.”

“And what about you?”

“What about me?”

Begrudgingly, he sat on the couch, earning a cautious look from her.

“Once it’s done. We’re gonna beat this, and change things, and then what?”

She didn’t reply. She lifted her hand and pulled out a thin piece of stone, creating a small empty cavern that she’d expand and then cover. It was only once she’d picked back up the vibrosaw that she spoke again.

“I have no idea. I’ve never expected to live to the end of the fight, but if I did, I’m not sure I know how to be anything but a spy anymore. Especially not in the past. It’s not my concern right now, and it won’t be until I’m living it.”

“That’s not an answer, kid.”

“I’m not a kid,” she said, her voice calm and even.

He slumped, watching in silence as she cut out a chunk of the wall. It wasn’t even large enough for a child, but she seemed satisfied, and it was entirely invisible as she’d planned.

“Is this normal for you?”

“Making a safe house?”

“With others?”

She knelt on the ground, leaning to each side in a stretch as she put the supplies back in the bag he’d brought.

“No. It’s dangerous.”

“More dangerous than this?”

Her forehead was wrinkled, and he almost thought that she wasn’t sure of the answer, either.

“Right now, Ahsoka Tano,” she said her own name quietly, “isn’t wanted galaxy-wide. There are still thousands of Jedi. There are clones, who, no matter what they’re forced to do later, will protect the Republic. It’s bad now, and because of the specific situation it’s always unsafe, but it’s still better.”

She truly believed her words, and he had no reason to disagree. If she hadn’t shown up in the past, he wouldn’t even agree that their current reality was bad for anything except for the war, not without serious prompting.

She set the removed slab of stone on the ground and reached her hand into the large pockets of her strangely torn Jedi robe. First, she set a small radio into the space, one that was undoubtedly where she had the comms in her Fulcrum link bounce off of. Then, she pulled out several odd circular pieces of metal. They were mismatched and obviously picked up from different places.

“What’re those for?”

“If I tell you, you may freak out.”

He raised his chin, meeting her eyes as she turned to face him.

She sighed, “It’s for new lightsabers.”

“What?”

“Exactly. These ones are just… Old. I abandoned them long ago. After they’d already been refurbished. They’re a Jedi’s lightsabers.”

“You’ve done this before.”

“I’ve done all of this before,” she pulled a datapad out of her cloak and picked up the stone slab. “You should leave now.”

“Are you going soon?”

“Yeah.”

He stood off of the disgusting couch and pulled his hood back over his head.

“Sorry about all these questions. We gotta have a comfortable conversation one of these days.”

“I’m used to it.”

He stared for a long moment as she clicked on her datapad and set the piece of stone back in its place with the force. Just as she’d intended, it was invisible. He thought he noticed a small dent in the wall, but no one who didn’t know it was there would see it, especially with the state of the rest of the room.

She looked back at him, “You can go. I’ll see you soon, I’m sure.”

“Good luck here.”

She nodded, “When you're walking out, no one is looking at you. They have their own business, so you don’t need your guard up. Not entirely, at least.”

She was probably right, but he didn’t have her experience.

Oh.

He turned to the door and picked up his bag, all of the tools thrown back into it. He’d have to return those to the armory to ensure no one noticed they were missing. Then, he looked back at Ahsoka with the start of a grin.

“I have one more question.”

She raised an eyebrow, clearly aware that it wasn’t a negative thing.

“Do I still outrank you?”

With all of the time that had passed for her and everything she’d been through, he wasn’t even sure if she’d recall what he was referencing. Much to his relief, she crossed her arms and smiled smugly.

“Not at all.”

He laughed, looking out at the hot flaming garbage chute outside of the rickety door. When she was making safe houses in such odd places, he should have known the answer. A large part of him had, but he had to confirm.

A small part of him was also confirming that she was still Ahsoka. Not out of doubt that she was telling the truth or the belief that she was someone else, but if deep down, everything hadn’t changed who she was. If it hadn’t, then he was confident she could beat Darth Sidious and every other enemy whom he didn't know about.

“Stay safe,” he said as he put one foot out of the door and reached onto the windowsill.

She smiled as a response, and he raised himself up. It wasn’t the easiest thing, and the heat rising up from below him certainly didn’t help, but eventually, he was standing on the sidewalk and hurrying past people. It still wasn’t a comfortable walk, but Ahsoka’s reminder stuck with him, and he could see that the lower levels weren’t entirely crime; they were also just people stuck down there.

As soon as he was on the upper levels, his exhaustion hit. He was accustomed to acclimating to different sleep schedules and being woken up abruptly in the night, but that didn’t mean he ever enjoyed it and that he was immune to being tired. Ahsoka’s situation had been more stressful than the average battle, with the uniqueness of it and her own paranoia spreading to him.

He hurried back to the compound and tossed his cloak out of his borrowed speeder, mentally apologizing to the poor civilian it may have hit. Just outside of the compound, before he parked his speeder, he tucked the tools into the bottom layer of a trashcan. If found, it’d be assumed to be dropped there by a random civilian.

In perfectly normal attire and with the most level expression he could, he walked into the compound.

Half of the 201st was up and in armor right before him.

He paused, panic automatically blinding him to sense. Had they caught him or Ahsoka? Had their chips been activated? What had gone wrong?

“Rex!”

Cody was walking towards him, his face tense and anticipative but not angry or suspecting. He didn’t look like he’d been turned into a weapon for the Sith or had learned Ahsoka was a time traveler.

“Cody, what’s going on?” he hoped that his voice sounded average.

“General Kenobi returned,” he continued, but Rex stopped listening after his mind registered the implication of his initial words and the armored 201st before him.

The moment he could, he hurried off to an empty corner of a hallway with the excuse of going to sleep and pulled out Ahsoka’s comm.

Establishing a stable safehouse always left Ahsoka with a good feeling. The rebellion may not exist for her anymore, but it still reassured her of their progress nonetheless. Having a place for herself to retreat to meant she could continue giving out information and helping others, which meant the rebellion and all that they wanted could continue.

As she stepped through the shadows of the underworld of Coruscant, she could feel her fatigue. Long missions and the exhaustion that came with trying to save the galaxy were old friends, and she could continue without sleep if necessary, but she didn’t want to make that bet. Not when Anakin could notice her lack of sleep and pester her about it, and she didn’t want to raise his suspicions even more after the senate event. She still didn’t know what the effects of her actions there would be.

She stopped in her tracks.

Far above her, something felt familiar. It was darkness, but not the kind that once entrapped the galaxy. It was tangled and furious, a garbled mess centered in one specific spot.

She backed against the wall, hoping that the shadows would conceal her entirely as she shut her eyes. She focused on that darkness, the one which had only just entered the atmosphere. She could feel it all the way on the lower levels, and as she pushed, it pushed back.

Her eyes opened.

Maul was there.

It wasn’t what she’d expected. She’d thought Obi-Wan would be gone for days, maybe even weeks as he tried to capture Maul. She’d expected good men to die in the attempt, and Lotho Minor might have become even more of a wasteland. She didn’t know how Maul lived on the planet, nor what truly became of him at the Battle of Naboo— she was sure it was how he lost his legs— but not a single part of her had expected him to come without a fight.

Perhaps he came without a viable fight, depending on his state. It didn’t explain how he survived all of those years, but she’d learned the lengths beings could go to survive. For someone like Maul who functioned off of so much hate, she could see how it kept him alive.

Her private comm beeped, and she already knew what it was.

“I know,” she whispered before Rex could say anything.

Maul would have to get settled in prison for some time before she could approach him, so she had to be patient. She could get her rest and determine where Obi-Wan would have him held, and then she could make her plan to get in and speak to him.

It wouldn’t be easy. Even years prior to her interaction with him, she’d been imagining the Maul she knew. She’d expected the eloquently spoken and irritatingly formal Maul, who became a crime boss for a reason she never discovered and had visions of the end of the Republic before it ever happened.

That wasn’t who she’d be seeing.

There were three days until the Resolute was scheduled to leave, although ships almost always departed a day or so late. There was also the chance that they’d be called out early.

Either way, she needed to speak to Maul.

She moved out of the shadows, the dark presence in the sky lingering in her senses.

Chapter Text

Ahsoka looked out at the speeders around her, all entirely oblivious to her and the former Sith she was trying to reach. The wind was harsh, but she’d handled worse than holding onto a ledge on the Republic Military high-security prison.

Maul was inside.

It wasn’t surprising that he wasn’t in the Temple and being handled by the Jedi, but it did serve as a reminder. It would have been harder for her if he was in the Temple, but that didn’t make it right. By all means, he should have been a Jedi matter, not military.

She watched several clones walk out of a side entrance, clearly complete with their shift. Her opinion of the Coruscant guard was certainly biased after they chased her all over Coruscant, but they were simply doing their job. Now, she needed to get around them. She held the door open with the force as they walked away.

Through the force, she could feel the general emptiness of the room the clones had walked out of. She waited until they were around the corner before leaping onto the ground, landing in an instinctive roll to distribute her weight. Before anyone could spot her she was against the wall and peering through the door.

She slipped inside and across the room, tucking herself in a corner on the same side as the door to the next room. Few people ever came in through the entrance, so she only had to worry about someone spotting her as they exited.

With a moment to breathe in the corner, she glanced around the room. Unsurprisingly, there was no console for her to check Maul’s location. There were layers of security throughout the place, but she could bypass most of them. It was dismaying how easy it was for a force-sensitive to sneak in— although, that may have been Sidious’ idea. It certainly caused chaos.

There were several beings through the next door. She could probably sneak past them, but as her gaze landed on the ceiling, she knew she didn’t have to.

She was in her teenage body, and she could use that to her advantage.

With a mental thank-you to Ezra Bridger, she hopped into the ventilation shaft above her. It was louder than she’d wanted, but most people who tried to break into such a high-security prison were probably even louder. Luckily for her, she’d broken into more prisons than she could count; every one of which was high-security by the Republic’s standards. Those times, she hadn’t been able to climb through the vents, either.

Slowly, she began to shuffle her way through the space metal space, keeping her head downturned for her montral’s sake. She began in search of a console to track Maul’s cell down with, but she could feel the metaphysical mass of anger and darkness clear enough to follow it.

She had to pause several times as clones walked below her or she moved into a particularly crowded room. Yet, as she glanced down between the open shafts, she began to see familiar hallways with clones at each door. She’d reached the cells, and Maul was still somewhat far away. He was force sensitive, and a Sith in the Republic’s eyes, so it wasn’t surprising.

As she crawled, the lights below her got dimmer, and the guards became more frequent. They were posted at the start of each hallway, those of which began being separated by doors.

Eventually, when she knew Maul was close, she paused over a control room. It was swarming with guards, so without moving the vent, she used the force to switch off the cameras in Maul’s vicinity. She couldn’t be picky when so many clones were present, but they hopefully wouldn’t notice the cameras being off for a short amount of time. The ones in their room were still on.

The dark mass of anger jolted, and Ahsoka knew Maul had sensed her. She looked down and spotted two men from the Coruscant guard before a large door.

Silently, she pushed the vent in front of her out of place slightly. Neither guard looked up. She raised her hand and reached into the force, feeling their consciousness’ in the empty hallway. The left one was tired and impatient, while the right was tired and anticipant.

She whispered, “You need to check on the prisoner in cellblock 38-D.”

Both clones looked at each other, and she lifted her hand slightly lower.

“We need to check on the prisoner in cellblock 38-D,” one of them said, the other nodding as they both moved down the hall.

She watched as they walked right below her, and before they could disappear, she pulled off the key to Maul’s cell from one of their belts. She let it float to the ground behind them, waiting until the doors were shut and the small hall was empty to drop out of the vent.

She landed on the floor without so much as a thud, glancing at the cameras to ensure they were still off. In moments the keycard was in her hand. She glanced at it, thinking of when one of them had landed before her cell so long ago. That cell had been nothing like this; it was much less heavy-duty. She was lucky Sidious hadn’t put her in one of these.

Maul was behind the door and just as potent as he ever was. He was still a blur of darkness that could make her shiver, but it was less controlled. When he wanted, he could hide his presence, and it was how he’d survived as long as her in the future. She wasn’t sure if this Maul could.

Without hesitation, she slid the keycard and slipped into the cell, dropping the keycard outside of it and swishing the door shut on her own.

She paused.

In the corner of the room was Maul, the former Sith who had nearly died to Obi-Wan Kenobi and would cause all sorts of ruin to the galaxy. She hadn’t expected the eloquently spoken and put-together Maul, but what she was looking at was something she’d never seen.

The first thing she noticed was his legs. They weren’t the metal struts that functioned like average humanoid legs, nor any type of prosthetic she’d ever seen or heard of. They almost mimicked an arachnid, with pieces of metal fused together in several limbs that stretched up before hitting the ground. One of them was severed at the root, clearly by a lightsaber.

Unfortunately, his legs weren’t the most shocking part.

Ahsoka knew that Maul couldn’t possibly be in a good mental state— not that he ever had been. This was different. She’d never seen Maul vulnerable. Even when he was shouting about the fall of the Republic or without a lightsaber on a burning ship surrounded by enemies, he always acted as if he had control of the situation.

Maul was pushed into the corner of the back wall, as far as he could go with the bench and his legs. Both hands were over his face, and he was whispering something incomprehensible. He was fidgety, his expression contorted in pain.

Had the Jedi done nothing for him? Had Obi-Wan done nothing but throw this broken man in a cell? They hadn’t given him proper prosthetics that she knew they had readily available, but instead, they’d tossed him in without a single ounce of support or help.

Ahsoka had never had sympathy for Maul, but she felt some anger at the treatment he was given.

She bent her knees and took one step forward, moving her arms out to her sides and trying to keep her presence calm but truthful. She’d planned to tell Maul only half-truths and had even considered giving her name as Fulcrum, but she needed him to trust her. Before she could earn his trust, she needed to help him.

“Maul,” she said quietly, one hand outstretched slightly towards him and the other arm away from her lightsaber.

“No,” he muttered before raising his voice, “No!”


“Yes,” she took another step forward, and he lunged toward her.

She didn’t flinch back, and he pulled himself back before even getting close. For the first time, he looked at her, and she met angry yellow eyes once again.

“My name is Ahsoka Tano.”

His eyes widened, and he seized even further back, “Jedi, Jedi— Kenobi!”

“No. I’m not a Jedi.”

“Lie! Lie, it is all a lie!”

“I’m not lying. My name is Ahsoka Tano, and I use the light side of the force, but I am not a Jedi. I haven’t been for a long time.”

She couldn’t possibly be helping, with her Padawan beads and lightsabers at her hips. She looked young, so her final statement was contradictory.

He shook his head, his hands returning to the sides of it. His horns were far outgrown, one of them even chipped far enough to be painful.

“Always remember I am fear,” he said, certainly not to her. “Always remember I am hunter. Always remember I am filth. Always remember… I am nothing.”

His voice broke as he finished, his robotic legs twitching under his weight. She took yet another step forward.

“Jedi!”

“No,” she took a deep breath. “My Master abandoned me.”

Anakin would never, but she could still feel the power of Vader’s blows and see his yellow eye through his cracked mask.

For a short second, Maul froze, and she thought maybe she’d gotten through to him. His mind was fractured after years of what must have been isolation, and no one had cared to help him.

Then, his legs slammed on the ground, and he sank lower, “Mercy, Master, mercy. No, there is no mercy, it is a lie-“

She took a leap, “Sidious gets no mercy.”

She let her anger and carefully withheld hatred for Sidious into the air for a brief second, not enough for Sidious to sense it, but enough for Maul to look up.

“Mercy…”

It wasn’t enough.

It occurred to her that the last time anyone had seen Maul alive prior to her false vision, he’d been Sidious’ apprentice and killed a Jedi Master. He’d then spent ten years rotting alone, losing his mind after losing so much of his body. Did he still think he was Sidious’ apprentice? Did he know anything about the state of the galaxy?

She already knew the answer.

She knew well that Sith could steal people’s memories, reaching into their minds and taking what they wanted. She’d spent months steeling her mind against that skill in case the day ever came when she was captured, building up walls to keep anyone from ever getting to her most precious secrets or memories. She’d never heard of someone sharing the memories willingly, but there was no reason it wasn’t possible.

So, she volunteered her mind forward, bringing up memories of their fight on Mandalore. He wasn’t in any state to use the force, so she practically forced them to the forefront of her mind, cringing at the sensation. Finally, he went quiet, and she realized she’d grabbed his wrist.

He reached for more memories.

She let him see their fight and the information he’d known. She let him feel her own subtle disdain for him, even if it wasn’t enough to blind her to the benefits of teaming up— just like he’d tried to do with her so long ago. Her head began to ache, as she’d never had a Sith pull at her memories before, but she knew what she was doing.

With only the need for him to trust her in mind, she pulled forward the moment she left the Jedi Order, and felt as he greedily grabbed at it. It hurt, and having someone else see it was worse than recalling it herself. It was like reliving it, along with the headache that came from her mind being pulled at.

Several things blurred in her mind. She saw the holo of Sidious announcing the rise of the Empire, the one she’d watched endlessly. She saw herself letting Maul out of the Mandalorian cell as the clones searched to kill her. She saw her short ride up the Sith Temple with him, when Kanan had refused to let Maul go with Ezra. Vader flashed before her eyes.

She put up her walls, and he pulled back. She straightened, taking several steps back and wiping her forehead. It felt like she’d just been through a battle. She never wanted to go through that again.

Bright yellow eyes were staring at her.

“Sidious…” she raised her eyebrows as she might have with Maul in the future. “Wins.”

“He doesn’t have to. We can stop him. We both know his plan.”


She knew he didn’t know the details of Sidious’ plan because he’d admitted it to her on Mandalore, and that conversation was now fresh in her memory, but he knew enough.

Maul placed a hand on his head, “Mercy. Mercy is for the weak. I am nothing.”

She stepped closer to him, raising her chin and outstretching her hand.

“You just saw your future self. We were both tossed aside, but neither of us is nothing. Sidious will get no mercy from us, and we don’t have to give it.”

He looked at her hand, then her eyes.

“I’m from the future, yes. Most don’t know. Sidious doesn’t know. He destroyed everything both of us had, and he deserves to pay for it. You offered for me to join you once, and I said no, but we have a do-over. Sidious will not rule the galaxy again.”

Silence hung in the space between them. She could feel the war within him, but things were clearer; less jumbled. It was still nothing like the Maul she knew, but that was a different person. Everyone was. Bail, Raffa, Anakin, Maul, and everyone else, including herself, were different. It wouldn’t be the same.

Slowly, his lips curled upward.

“Lady Tano.”

She hadn’t realized he’d pulled the name out of her memory, nor had she felt herself share it. Yet, perhaps this Maul wasn’t so different after all.

She grinned, and he clasped her hand. His legs slammed against the ground as he stood up straighter. She let go, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a small metal file. She’d slipped it out of the vibrosaw when she was finished with it, rendering it unusable, and Rex hadn’t noticed. She’d planned to use it for her future lightsabers, but this was a better use.

“Here, for your horns. That must be painful.”

Slowly, he took the file, tapping it against one of his nails. She glanced at the cameras yet again.

“If you can use the force, in the center of the two pieces are two sets of coordinates. Someone will get far enough in breaking you out for you to get yourself out. Then, go to the first coordinates, and I’ll make sure there are proper prosthetics for you if you’d like to use them. After, the second coordinates are my safe house. I know it’ll be tempting to run while you can, but I know you can stay hidden, and we need to work together. Sidious won before when we were separate, and I’m not taking the chance again.”

It was a lot to dump on someone in Maul’s state, and if it were anyone else, she would be hesitant to do so. Even then, she wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle it. Yet, when she’d found herself stuck in a hole, even when she couldn’t think properly, she could always find her way out; it was how people like them survived. They were raised in battle, in one way or another, and survival instincts lasted through trauma. It was how he was still alive after being chopped in half.

“You got it?” she asked.

His legs slammed on the ground as he stood up as best he could, clearly straining with one of the legs being broken.

“Lady Tano,” he said again.

She raised her chin.

“I need… More answers.”

One hand went to his temple, and she could feel his struggle. His mind was jumbled, and it occurred to her that he might not remember everything.

“I’ll give them to you, but I’m acting as a Jedi and my past self right now, so I can’t get caught in here. You’ll be broken out, and I’ll know, so I’ll find you. Just, for both our sakes, don’t get caught again.”

He murmured something, a repeat of what he’d said before, before viciously shaking his head.

“Mercy…” she waited patiently for him to gather himself if he could. He looked up at her, his eyes focusing for the first time. “Sidious will get no mercy.”

“No, he won’t.”

He nodded, shifting once more, “Go.”

She returned the nod and focused on lifting the keycard up through the door; the guards were still gone. Before she slid it all the way, she felt towards Maul, ensuring he wasn’t about to run out of the door. She hadn’t erased her trail thoroughly enough for a breakout, and if he got out now, the investigation could point to her. Surprisingly, she felt nothing out of the new ordinary.

The door opened with a swish, and despite trying to earn his trust, she moved through it quickly. Just as it was shutting on the other side, they shared yet another stare, one that gave her faith that this could work.

Maul disappeared from her view, and she jumped back into the vent. As she went, she turned back on the cameras and security systems.

In the future, she would easily have been able to pay people to break someone out of prison, no matter how heavily fortified. That was the opportunity she’d unlocked, and it worked in her favor, no matter how specific the situations had to be for her to use it.

Now, she didn’t have enough credits to get a ship with, and she had no time to get even close to enough. Thankfully, paying someone directly wasn’t the only way to get Maul broken out.

All she had to do was set a great bounty on his head anonymously and send the holos of it in Hondo Ohnaka’s direction. If any other criminals happened to pick it up, she wouldn’t mind, but Hondo had already kidnapped one Sith. She wouldn’t put it past him to attempt to grab another one.

The Outer Rim was usually his territory, but he still had his crew, and she had a feeling he was stupid enough to try it. If not, the false bounty would reach others, too. Unfortunately for him, Maul wouldn’t be like Dooku, and he wouldn’t be captured. She wasn’t sure which of them was stronger, but Maul had more raw power that he wasn’t hesitant to let out. While Dooku was good at biding his time— she didn’t know him particularly well, but she could guess his type— Maul would thrash until the ship went down.

Besides, Hondo wouldn’t be able to get through the whole prison. She just needed Maul to get an opening that she hoped he would gladly take. He was assumed to be unstable, and while he still wasn’t the crime boss from the future, she was sure she’d gotten through to him in some way. He’d pulled at her memories like a child with candy, and seeing himself in the future must have been some sort of wake-up call.

The vents deposited Ahsoka back onto the roof, where she snuck her way past clones and militaristic designs. It didn’t take long for her to get to the back of the Temple, where she hurried up the steps. She still didn’t want to encounter the Council, but she had nowhere else to go, and she couldn’t sneak around forever. If she did, and something happened, she’d be an easy suspect. She made her way through the training grounds, thanking the force that Master Yoda wasn’t out there.

“Wow! Look at that one, I didn’t know blue lightsabers could be that light!”

Ahsoka didn’t pause her steps— she’d trained herself in undercover work far too much to do so— but she did slow and turn her head to the group of young Jedi beneath the nearby tree. Specifically, the one who had last spoken.

A tanned human youngling with dark brown hair was watching the Jedi train with all of the amazement in the world, similar to his peers. Ahsoka kept her expression level, but her attention had been effectively stolen, and it had shown in the force.

She met the same blue eyes she’d seen blinded on Malachor, and the same person she’d once ordered the family of to let die in Imperial capture.

It wasn’t the same person, though. Just like she wasn’t the same Padawan she seemed to be.

Caleb Dume stared back at her, confusion etched in his features, even blurred from the distance. The other younglings hadn’t noticed his distraction.

She’d never known Caleb Dume prior to the purge, not with the war and their age gaps and her expulsion from the Order. Yet, one day, silently aboard her ship several years after Hera had told her of her new companion and long after Ahsoka had tracked down every piece of information she could find about the supposed Jedi— there had been nothing about a Jedi, but Kanan Jarrus had certainly made himself known in the bars— she’d awoken to an image of a youngling handing her back her singular lightsaber after she’d flung it across the room during training.

They hadn’t known each other, but Jedi interacted more than they ever knew. He’d certainly known of her, she later learned.

She smiled and looked away, finding no use in going up and talking to him. He’d forget about it as soon as someone else pointed out another lightsaber, anyway. Kanan hadn’t been the most attentive person in the first place, but half of that alertness came from the same place Ahsoka’s had, and hopefully, that would never happen now.

She made her way into the Temple. She could continue planting seeds of questioning into friends and others around her, but until Maul was broken out, she had to pause operations. She would continue gathering information and furthering things, but there was only so much she could do.

She still didn’t have a plan for destroying Sidious. Nor for removing all of the clones’ chips, saving Anakin, or slowing the war.

She had fragments of plans, the start of what could grow into something large. That was how she’d operated for a long time, and it was safe and left no trails. Unfortunately, she had less than two years to finish this, and her previous operation had taken nearly twenty— and it hadn’t been anywhere close to being finished.

Removing all of the clone chips was impossible. Gathering all of the Jedi away from the clones at the perfect moment was impossible.

Lost in her thoughts, Ahsoka had wandered into her room in the Temple, where she sat on her knees. She’d meditated even more than usual since arriving in the past, but it had always proven to be helpful. The Order hadn’t been wrong about that.

She shut her eyes.

She’d been in impossible situations before with seemingly no way out. After Order sixty-six and after she and Rex split, she’d been alone and without any choice but to run and hide. Despite her best attempts, she’d never been able to give up, and that was something that she’d learned to use in her time in the rebellion.

She’d started rebel intelligence. Bail had given her a list of six names, no more and no less, and trusted her to operate in the dark and out of the Empire’s attention. Before she learned how to truly be invisible, paranoia had been her biggest weapon, allowing her to work in the shadows and out of everyone’s way.

Hours on her ship finding names and places that could be the very start of a lead in the rebellion turned into days, which turned into weeks that trailed off as time blurred. Her mental state may have been questionable, but she made efficient work, and slowly but surely, she found names and places and contacts. She built up a web of contacts, and while few of them were viable to be part of the rebellion, they were useful, and that meant everything.

She’d sacrificed more than a few of her moral codes when putting together the rebellion. She’d enlisted sixteen-year-old Hera Syndulla and many more children or beings out of questionable living statuses— hardly younger than herself at the time. She’d done her best, but it had cost her, and the changes everyone was subtly noticing were proof of that.

Once she learned how to work under everyone's noses and still be invisible, she moved much faster. That was how she had to operate in the past. Except, she didn’t have her contacts, resources, or credits. She’d already accepted this, but it hadn’t pushed her into complacency.

It wouldn’t happen again.

She had to start with one problem and work her way up from there. The most pressing one, and the one she owed the most to Rex, was the clones. Tackling Sidious wasn’t even an option yet, so before she could destroy him, she had to save everyone else.

There was no way to remove either the chips or the clones themselves from the equation. When it came down to the chips, they were tech, and she knew how tech worked.

Tech could be reprogrammed.

Her eyes opened.

It would have to be done from Kamino, which she had no way to get to currently. She wasn’t sure if it would even be possible, or if the chips were designed straight from the start with their original purpose. Sidious hadn’t ordered the clones himself, she was almost sure, so perhaps they hadn’t originally been for such a purpose?

Even if they had, could she slice her way around that purpose, especially without hurting the clones? Sidious couldn’t have expected people to care enough about the clones to put a failsafe in the chips if they were tampered with, and there had been no signs of oddities in Rex’s chip.

If she couldn’t change the purpose, she could try to find a way to eliminate their use in every single clone remotely.

It may not have been possible, but she was damned if she wasn’t going to try.

Chapter Text

Several measly pieces of metal, a homemade comm link, and a datapad all sat in the pocket of Ahsoka’s Jedi robe. She could feel it all bouncing against her legs as she walked, and it was a quiet reminder that she found comfort in.

She was leaving Coruscant soon. She was in the Jedi Order. She was in the past.

And she was still going to stop Sidious.

She was not only Ahsoka Tano, Jedi Padawan of Anakin Skywalker, but she was also Fulcrum and knew everything that was going to take place.

At least, she had, before she brought Maul back severely early and then put a bounty on his head to get him out of prison.

“It’s gonna be weird not having Obi-Wan and the 212th with us this time around. They’ve been with us for a while, it feels like.”

Maul suddenly breaking out of prison and going on a seven-legged run around Coruscant before subsequently disappearing into the lower levels was cause enough for Obi-Wan to stay behind as they departed again. Obi-Wan wasn’t convinced that Maul was still on Coruscant, but the Order didn’t want him leaving in the middle of such a mess.

Ahsoka’s meddling had only given the people even worse opinions of the Jedi, but the Order did enough of that on their own, so it was an acceptable sacrifice.

Ahsoka nodded to Anakin, “I know, the ship will feel so empty.”

“Yeah, I think the word for that is not overfilled,” Rex said, an understandable amount of irritation in his tone.

Anakin chuckled, “Fair point. Hey, did you hear where we’re being sent yet?”

“Well, it’ll change five times before we ever get confirmation.”


“Cody said he’d try to tell me whenever Fox tells him, but I don’t know if that’ll ever happen.”

Speaking to Anakin casually had gotten easier. He’d asked Ahsoka to spar three separate times in the past two days, and each time she’d come up with another excuse. The thought of sparring with him only made her recall the harsh, heavy strikes of Vader’s blade, and while she could hold a conversation with him, she wouldn’t be able to internalize her reaction to that.

While she’d denied his requests to spar, to avoid making him think she was truly denying him, she’d still spent time with him.

It had stopped her from finding Maul, and now, she was leaving the planet. She could sense him on Coruscant, deep in the lower levels, hopefully at her hideout with the legs she’d paid with fake credits for. Hopefully, he wouldn’t run off and become a crime boss, or charge into Sidious’ office and get himself killed.

She didn’t have much faith.

Things had worked out terribly, and the first step in saving the galaxy had fallen apart. She had been set on speaking to Maul again, but now she had to hope he noticed the comm in the side of the mechanic legs that he hopefully retrieved and that he knew enough to contact her— and that he could get himself together enough to understand what was going on, and then think more than he ever did enough to not act rashly.

It wasn’t going to work out well.

She stood on the landing platform with her old Master and one of the only people she had consistently trusted since she became a Padawan, hiding every negative thought in her head about how much her plan with Maul had fallen apart.

The Resolute loomed before them, repaired and refueled and ready to go on another long departure. Anakin’s chagrin at leaving Padmé was visible, and Rex’s relief to be getting back in the air was just as clear.

Ahsoka was relieved to be getting away from Sidious, but it was at a cost. She might lose Maul, and she no longer had direct contact with every part of the Temple or Senate that she was familiar with.

Yet, in her own feelings that she scarcely prioritized, she was beyond relieved. Her return to Coruscant had been a trip into every horrible memory of her childhood.

They’d nearly reached the ramp to the ship when she felt something rock in the force. A sudden darkness came up to grab her from behind, encasing her in the familiar chill that the Empire had brought for a short moment.

It disappeared, and the sound of an explosion echoed from far behind them.

This time, Ahsoka’s dread was her own. She’d already paused her steps, but everyone around her did the same as they turned to look at the devastating sound.

She already knew what it was going to be.

It wasn’t possible.

Nevertheless, Ahsoka turned around just as everyone else had. The Temple was far and nearly obscured, but in the one visible corner of it, there was a blurry hole of flames.

She’d talked to Barriss.

She’d been the friend that she couldn’t be in the past, and they’d agreed. She’d felt her relief. She’d felt their shared worry and distaste for the Republic and Order, even if Ahsoka’s was derived differently.

Barriss wasn’t close to her breaking point yet, and Ahsoka had offered a helping hand, not a further push towards descent.

It was far too early.

There wasn’t a single reason in her mind for the Temple bombing to have already taken place— not a single reason except for her.

She’d screwed up.

Ahsoka wasn’t one for self-pity, not when she didn’t have time for it. Instead, she attempted to wipe the shock off of her face— before she recalled that shock was an understandable reaction— and straightened.

Once she was able to draw her eyes away from the Temple, she found Rex staring at her with even more of a panicked gaze than her own.

Anakin was breathless, “We have to help them.”

In seconds he was off, running back down the platform and towards the nearest speeder. Rex looked prepared to follow him, but he paused to properly turn to Ahsoka.

“Ahsoka?” he asked quietly, the same way he might have spoken to her if she froze in battle; she heard the true question he was asking.

“I don’t know,” she said beneath her breath, meeting Anakin’s eyes as he turned back to them.

“We have to go! Ahsoka, Rex!”

She couldn’t.

She had to go, she had to keep her cover, but this was what had happened the last time. They’d hurried to the Temple, and she’d partaken in the investigation, and she’d been framed. She had to change it. Something had to be different if she was going to change anything.

She nodded, swallowing her reaction and running after Anakin. Rex didn’t waste a second following her. They were all in a speeder seconds later, with Anakin at the wheel and driving even more maniacal than usual. His frenzied panic was exactly what led to Vader.

She took a breath. She didn’t freak out often, but then again, she didn’t get thrown in the past often.

She’d adjusted to arguably much worse.

The right thing to do was to check if everyone was okay or alive. There would be deaths, but her store of information was now inaccurate. She couldn’t be assured everything was the same. Barriss may have gone about this differently.

If she hadn’t hit a breaking point but instead carefully made the plan, it’d be less messy, as long as Ahsoka didn’t meddle. Barriss still didn’t have morally negative intentions.

It didn’t make sense.

It had taken Ahsoka a long time to understand exactly what had happened, and until her most recent conversation with Barriss, it hadn’t been clear. Barriss had been pushed to her breaking point as she watched the Jedi Order that was her home fall to the dark, all while the galaxy fought each other in a pointless war. She was told to bottle up her emotions and release them into the force as she fought in a war and witnessed death every day. She had no one to rely on or speak to it about, so she’d acted in the only way she’d thought possible.

That wasn’t the case here.

Ahsoka had talked to her about it. She’d felt her getting through to her. They’d agreed not to take any rash action.

What had gone wrong?

She had to speak to Barriss. She could go with Anakin to find out if everyone was okay and if they knew what happened, but after that, she couldn’t partake in the investigation.

Ahsoka had been through a lot in her life. She’d seen tragedy after tragedy and she’d continued fighting the evil at the root of the galaxy, even if her ways of doing it varied. Her experiences had changed her, and it was a fact she’d learned strongly during her time in the past.

Yet, as she sped towards the scene that destroyed her life and her view of the galaxy, a horrifying sense of discomfort curled within her. It wasn’t a bad feeling in the force or instincts. It was simply the fear that came with walking into such a terrible memory and knowing exactly where it could go.

She pushed the feeling down and hopped out of the speeder, waving her hand at the smoke filling the Temple grounds.

She’d been here before. Rex gave her yet another wary look, knowing more than anyone else. He still didn’t have the full scope of the situation. She hadn’t told him and Fives that Barriss was the one behind the Temple bombing, nor that she’d talked to her in an attempt to stop that particular event.

It was the worst any of her plans had gone in a while.

Anakin ran straight into the center of the explosion, and if Ahsoka didn’t have strong expectations of what she was going to see, she’d have warned him against it.

They left Rex behind, promising to inform him so that he could inform Yularen.

For the second time in her life, Ahsoka walked into the site of the explosion. This time, it wasn’t lit up with holo recreations of the smoke and debris that littered the room; it was real. She lifted her cloak over her mouth and nose, trying to keep up with Anakin.

She wanted to run.

It wasn’t the explosion or the deaths that scared her. The darkness lingering in the force was familiar. Even the smell of someone who had exploded from the inside out wasn’t enough to make her want to run. Even teenage Ahsoka Tano, the one who fought on the frontlines of more battles than she could count, wouldn’t have been overly bothered by that element. She hadn’t been overly bothered.

She knew how this would go. She knew that it was what would lead to a change in everything for her. The fact that it was too early didn’t matter, only that she knew how this went. Anakin would go to the Council next, where he’d be pulled into an investigation, and Ahsoka would be excepted to join.

She couldn’t go through with that investigation. She had to stay as far from this as possible.

Her steps stopped before she had to step over a piece of shrapnel. It took Anakin several paces to notice, but he turned around, his face devastated through the smoke.

“How could this happen?”

She wanted to tell him how sorry she was.

“I don’t know,” she said, her devastation clear in her voice.

“We need to find the Council and get to the bottom of this. Maybe they know-“

“I’m gonna find Barriss.”

He’d been ready to continue walking, but he looked back at her. It was only a glimpse of the wreckage across his expression, but it reminded her too much of how he’d looked when she’d left.

She couldn’t do it again.

Strategical moves bounced in her mind, but she couldn’t hear over the static in her brain. She couldn’t feel anything except for the phantom pain of her Padawan beads being torn away.

“I… she said she’d be in this area. I saw her earlier. I can feel her in the Temple, I just want to make sure she’s okay.”

It didn’t make sense. She’d been fighting enough battles to know when to set her emotions aside, and Anakin knew that; he also knew what it was like to care deeply about someone.

“Okay… Just, come find me once you know she’s okay. I’m figuring this out, one way or another.”

She nodded, unable to say anything else. She didn’t know how she was going to play this, but she had until she found Barriss to figure it out.

She didn’t know what was going to happen when she confronted Barriss, either.

She left the room without looking back at Rex, walking down the hallways and attempting to clear her mind for a plan. If they could get a handle on this before the Republic got a hold of it, it didn’t have to become a big deal. No one had to be kicked out of the Order, and they didn’t have to sacrifice their morals.

There was still a way to fix this; there was still a way to fix everything.

Barriss’ was in the Temple, just like she’d told Anakin. She was in her room, on the other side of the building, but Ahsoka’s steps were hurried. Panic and fear were alight in the air around her, giving her reason to get to her friend even faster.

Her knuckles hit the door several times.

It swished open.

Barriss looked the same as she had several days earlier. She felt the same.

“Ahsoka! I heard what happened, but we were told not to crowd at the explosion. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, we were just about to board to leave. Can I come in?”

“Of course. I’ve been trying to meditate, but everything feels so… cold.”

“Yeah,” Ahsoka nodded, feeling that cold herself.

She wanted nothing more than to internalize everything and put on her spy-mask and get the job done easily. She had to get the information and then act on it, and that was exactly what she was doing.

She turned to face her, “Barriss.”

“Ahsoka?”

She’d done more difficult things.

“I know this was you.”

She didn’t know how this had gone when Anakin confronted her, but knowing what she did about Anakin now, she had to imagine it wasn’t a friendly conversation on either side.

“What?” Barriss’ forehead wrinkled.

“I’ve seen the proof, I know, Barriss.”

“Ahsoka, what are you talking about?”

“Please,” she said, sounding more like her teenage self than she had her entire time in the past. “We talked. We agreed not to-“

“Ahsoka.”

Barriss’ eyes were wide and she stepped back.

Ahsoka felt the true confusion in the force and paused her pursuits.

“What are you trying to do?”

There wasn’t any darkness in the room. It was nothing out of the ordinary that she’d once expected from her dear friend, but that couldn’t be right.

“What did you do?”

Barriss and her personal space were devoid of any darkness, but there was another place on Coruscant filled with it. It was vague enough to be missed by everyone, but Ahsoka knew it was there, and she suddenly felt sick.

Had Sidious put Barriss up to it the first time?

“I’m sorry,” she said, backing out of the room as quickly as she could.

“Ahsoka?”

For the first time since hearing the explosion, she noticed the fuzziness of the world around her. That hadn’t happened in a long time.

It was Sidious.

He knew that she knew something, and he was acting on it.

Her first instinct was to run. To go to the outer rim where she could act freely, and where she’d undoubtedly be able to act faster. Without terrible memories in her face every waking moment, she could think properly and formulate a true plan to stop Sidious.

Then, she recalled yet another painful memory.

Anakin, falling to the dark side in her absence.

Rex paced on the platform beside the Resolute, unable to start prepping the weapons on the ship but unable to go assist in the situation at the Temple.

The situation that supposedly wasn’t supposed to happen for over a year. He’d have thought it was something else if it weren’t for the look on Ahsoka’s face. She was good at faking her emotions, and even better at hiding them, but that had been genuine. She’d looked horrified.

His comm clicked, and he urgently checked it in hopes of orders from anyone on either side of him, only to find it contactless. He stared for a moment, wondering if his own worries were getting the better of him, before recalling the second comm tucked beneath his armor.

Frantically, he hurried out of the light where everyone could see and answered the message. He made sure not to be the first one to speak.

The rumble of wind in the background told him she was outside somewhere, “Rex.”

“What’s happening?”

“I need a pickup. I’m behind the Temple, on the ledge with no parking spots near.”

She didn’t have the commanding voice he’d almost grown used to from her. Instead, she sounded panicked, which couldn’t possibly be a good thing. Ahsoka Tano from the future didn’t panic.

Except, she did, because she had when she told him about the death of the Jedi. It had been understated and small, but he recognized it as panic. If this was her reaction to the Jedi Temple bombing, the one that led to her leaving the Order— she’d told that story stoically, and he shouldn’t have ignored that— then he needed to get to her.

“I’m on my way.”

He was technically supposed to stay near the ship, but he didn’t care. Ahsoka had the ability to stop the galaxy from descending into a nightmare worse than the one they lived in. Beyond that, she was his friend, and she needed support.

He grabbed the nearest speeder and moved towards the Temple, going above the traffic around him. It was military-grade, and there was an emergency, so no one was going to stop him. The explosion had made traffic even worse.

It took some time to find her specifically, but after circling around the Temple, he saw a small figure sitting against the back wall. He sped over, slowing down just enough to not blow her off of the ledge.

It was Ahsoka, that much was for sure.

This time, she didn’t look older than she physically was. Her eyes were wider than they should have been, and she looked subtly in all directions before getting up.

She looked the age everyone believed she was.

That was what the future had done to her, and no matter how nonchalantly she’d announced the end of her life in the Jedi Order, it couldn’t have been easy.

“Are you okay?” he asked as she hopped onto the back of the speeder.

“I’ve been better,” she sounded better than she did on the comm.

“Safehouse?”

“No. Your compound, if possible.”

He couldn’t imagine why that made sense, especially when she still hadn’t found where Maul ran off to after being broken out, but he didn’t ask. The last thing she needed was for him to bombard her with questions once again.

He’d begun to think of Ahsoka as somewhat impenetrable with how she acted, but now he saw her as in need of more help than the teenager had been. He took them to the compound, moving to park on the side or somewhere out of sight before she shook her head. She’d given up on being discreet, then.

She walked inside beside him, subtly leading them to one of the lounge areas— the one that the 501st frequented most, meaning it’d be empty, with all of them on the ship. She still had her strategies, then.

She sat down first, staring blankly at the wall.

“Ahsoka, what happened?”

“He put Barriss up to it the first time.”

Whatever he’d been expecting, it wasn’t that. He didn’t want to ask more questions, so he simply sat beside her and raised his eyebrows.

She hadn’t mentioned that Barriss Offee, her good friend, was the one who got her removed from the Order.

She shook her head to herself, “It was Barriss. Last time. She did a bad thing with the right thought in mind, and I never pieced it together. This whole time, I thought it was entirely her. I have no idea how.”

“In your future?”

She nodded, “And now it’s going to happen again.”

“I thought-“

“No. I went to Barriss, even though I talked to her a few days ago to stop this. I didn’t think, and I acted, and now it’ll look like I did it and tried to frame her. I fell into his trap without him even knowing I would.”

“Sidious did it,” he murmured, unsure of how this mysterious figure could do something from the shadows.

“He did everything,” she genuinely seemed to be in disbelief. “And I really thought it was her.”

It was the first time she didn’t know something. Instead of asking for more information, he wanted to help, but he didn’t know how. He didn’t know how this played out, or how her conversation with Barriss had gone. She had her hideout, but she’d repeatedly expressed that the outer rim was more of her pace.

“You could run.”

“No, I can’t.”

“Yeah, you can,” he turned to face her. “You could get your resources and credits and act like you did in the future, like Fulcrum. I could help from here, and you could work with Maul, and you wouldn’t be limited-“

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I can't tell you.”

He tried to tamp down any frustration, but she probably already felt it.

“I don’t get-“

“I didn’t tell you in the future, either.”

He shut his mouth.

“You wouldn’t be able to handle it. No one would. I barely can. And I’m not furthering it by… leaving,” she stared at the wall, seeing something entirely different. “Not this time.”

“Then, what’s our plan?”

“I don’t have one.”

“Then I’ll make one.”

“No, you won’t. I messed up. Barriss is sure it’s me, I felt it. I don’t… I panicked. This is a lot. Last time, when I was framed, I ran. And I was found innocent. This time, I don’t think there’s anyone to find guilty other than me.”

He didn’t understand what she was saying, jumping from subject to subject, but he understood where it was leading.

“We can’t just let you get arrested.”

“I think we have to.”

“And then what?” he said, raising his voice too loud. “We let the galaxy die? We let my brothers lose their will and kill all of the Jedi? I thought you said it couldn’t happen again.”

“There’s something worse, though,” she matched his volume, but not his frustration. “And if I don’t leave, it might not happen. And without that, Sidious might not win.”

“That sounds like a long shot.”

“It is. But, I can get out eventually, and we can still act,” she looked at him, determination still in her eyes. “I didn’t give up before, and that’s not what I’m doing now. I just… can’t do it all. And I can’t leave.”

He leaned back, sighing. He didn’t agree, and he didn’t want to give up, but he believed her when she said she wasn’t. With everything she’d been through, it was impossible not to believe her.


“Okay.”

She leaned her forehead on her palms, shaking her head “I miss the rebellion.”


“Why?”

“They were optimists,” she said immediately, a joyless laugh escaping her. “Me too, of course, but when you get enough optimists together, it’s incredible. I was never as close with any of them as I was with you all, so I thought I couldn’t possibly miss them, but something about having all of them together… especially once you came along. It was comforting.”

He nodded, familiar with the feeling, “So, rebellion, huh?”

A mischievous smile graced her face.

If she was so sure of her own doom, then the least he could do was distract her.

“It was originally called the Alliance. We didn’t put a name to it, so I don’t know who coined the name, but it was a privately known title. Then, the Empire started talking about acts of rebellion— not by us, most of the time, with how careful we were early on. But, they proclaimed their intent to arrest any rebels, and to squash any forming rebellions.

“Something about the name… stuck out to me. It felt right. It caught on in other places, even bringing people into the cause, but I always liked calling it that.”

“Considering your own acts of rebellion here, that’s not surprising.”

She shook her head, but the smile was still there.

“Anyone else I know?”

She leaned back, an illusion of comfort almost crossing her face. He could see the worry in her eyes, and he had a feeling this was their last conversation for some time, so he wanted to make it a nice one.

“Not closely. It was a lot of young people. You know of Cham Syndulla, I assume?”

“Of course. He’d definitely be part of it, right?”

“For Ryloth. In our area, his daughter was actually a large help. She’s just a child now. There’s a newborn somewhere on Mandalore, the daughter of a Deathwatch member, who’ll also be significant. Some of them aren’t even born.”

“I thought you come from not-even twenty years in the future…”

“And I was fighting a war at twelve.”

“I see your point,” he nodded, but she continued staring at the wall.

“I miss my ship, too.”

“What type?”

“T-6. It was a mess. Terrible condition.”

“But it was yours?”

She nodded.

“I spent more time in it than probably anywhere… other than the Temple as a youngling.”

“Stared at a lot of walls?”

Finally, she looked at him, half of a smile on her face. The look in her eyes was almost mischievous.

And then, it turned stony, and she looked away. Something had happened in the force.

“Thank you, Rex.”

“For what?”

“Believing me. I know it’s not an easy thing to trust, and I probably wouldn’t have been as considerate as you’ve been if someone told me a story of the future.”

He almost asked another question before he decided against it.

“You’ve been through more than me.”

She huffed lightly, “Sure. Still, I know I haven’t been the easiest person to work with. The lack of information I’ve given… it’d drive me crazy.”

“It doesn’t help me help you at all, but I think I see why you don’t say certain things. And, even if you don’t have a strategical reason, I can see why it could be hard.”

He didn’t need to tell her how much it had irritated him; she’d probably sensed it at the time.

“You don’t need to feel bad for me, Rex. This is how I live. Pity doesn’t stop the Empire,” she paused, clearly noticing her slip-up; the Empire didn’t exist yet. She mumbled, “Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for.”

She nodded and sat up, sharply turning to him.

“I’m sure I’m going to end up in a cell for some time. I’ll find a way out eventually, but for the time being, you’ll probably still be deployed. Look out for Anakin, and Obi-Wan, if he’s with you.”

“Of course.”

“No, not just on the field. Emotionally, too. The best you can without making it noticeable.”

“I can’t tell what you’re trying to say.”

“You’re not supposed to. Just, promise me, you’ll make sure they’re okay. If they ever don’t seem okay, or if they’re off, visit me. I’ll know if you have something private to say and I’ll find a way to shut off the cameras.”

“Okay… how do you plan on getting out? The bombing is a big deal.”

“I have my ways. And, if Maul does leave Coruscant, I know where he’ll go. Try to keep track of him in the reports if he’s spotted, but don’t make a move.”

“Okay. What are your ways?”

“You’ll see. Trust me, Rex, like you have so far. I truly appreciate it, and hopefully, it’ll pay off. I still don’t intend to let Sidious win. But, if I’m not there to keep tabs on everything going on, you need to do it for me.”

He wanted to ask more about how she was ever going to get out of holding, but she wasn’t budging. She was speaking with an urgency that told him something was about to happen, and he didn't want their last conversation to be a representation of a lack of trust in her.

“I have one more question,” he glanced at the doorway. “What is about to happen?”

“I’m not entirely sure. Things are going off the rails from what I know, which was bound to happen with intervention, but still… odd. But, the first time, I participated in the investigation and walked into being framed. Once I got captured after running for some time and attempting to prove my innocence, I was removed from the Order and put on a Republic trial. Padmé was my defense, and I imagine she’d do it again, but it won’t get anywhere this time.

"She lost before, too. Just as the verdict was about to rule in favor of Tarkin’s vote of the death sentence, Anakin walked in with Barriss, who confessed. That won’t happen here. Since I didn’t run, hopefully, Tarkin won’t propose the death sentence. Or it won’t pass.”

“Hopefully?”


Rex hadn’t particularly liked Tarkin when he met him, but hearing that detail overthrew everything else Ahsoka was saying. She’d grown tense telling the story, but he didn’t like the possibility she was throwing out there.

“If he does, I can handle it. I’ve handled worse. Are the rest of you still departing?”

“What-“

Before he could ask what she’d meant, General Skywalker walked in with Fox. He looked terribly grim. Ahsoka met Rex’s eyes, a wary look on her face, before turning to him.

“Fox, Rex, can we have the room?”


Even with his helmet on, Fox looked unsure, but he nodded reluctantly. Rex nodded in turn and left.

He didn’t know what to expect, or what this meant for the galaxy— or Ahsoka.

Chapter Text

"Ahsoka, what's happening?"

She wasn’t quite sure.

“I messed up.”

Anakin didn’t sit, instead resolving to begin pacing. Ahsoka stood to keep her dignity and not be scolded like a child, even though that was exactly how she needed to play this.

Teenage Ahsoka would have run off to find the true culprit after making such a mistake. Teenage Ahsoka wouldn’t confidently blame one of her closest friends with absolutely no proof to give for a reason why.

He stared at her, quiet for a short moment. Teenage Ahsoka didn’t usually admit to her mistakes.

At least, for once, she didn’t need to hide her disappointment with the situation. She hadn’t made a mistake so drastic in a long time. She wouldn’t be alive if she’d made a habit out of doing so.

“How?” he asked, visibly trying to keep calm. “Why?”

“I felt something in the force. It felt like I was being told it was her. I can’t explain it, but it had to be. I feel terrible. I don’t know why I acted so quick…”

It was a terrible excuse, but luckily for her, Anakin trusted her.

“Ahsoka…”

“I know.”

Teenage Ahsoka would hate admitting to such a thing with such defeat. She certainly wouldn’t be sitting around in misery over that defeat.

Unfortunately, there was a ticking time bomb in front of her, and leaving would only shorten the timer. She couldn’t do that to Anakin. She couldn’t be the reason he fell sooner— or at all.

“Just tell me-“

“I didn’t do it. I did not blow up the Temple.”

He stopped pacing, his eyes going wide, “Of course, you didn’t. I would never think that.”

She swallowed, looking away from him.

He sat beside her, “Many people think it was you, though.”

“I figured.”

“We need to prove your innocence. We don’t have time right now, but Padmé agreed to help however she can. We can convince the Council.”

It wouldn’t be the Council.

It was all out of order, but she’d heard this sentence before. The begging, Padmé’s help, the idea of convincing the Council. She’d heard it before, and it had been awful, and she didn’t feel like a time traveler anymore.

“How?”

“What?”

“How are we supposed to do that?”

“There’s… an investigation. Anyone who doesn’t think it was you thinks it was Darth Maul. It probably was.”

“I assume we need to go to the Council?”

She didn’t want to hear about his investigation.

“Yeah. We should probably get going.”

She stood and nodded without looking at him.

She knew how to break out of a cell when the time came, but she was hoping for an option that didn’t involve hurting Anakin. She wasn’t sure how long that would be a plausible option, but if she could get out and do everything at once, she would.

If she disabled the clone's chips and found some way to get true proof of Palpatine’s involvement with the Separatists, she could finish this swiftly.

It was a fever dream, and she wasn’t that naive, but she needed a plan as she walked into the Temple with complete knowledge of what was about to happen. Anakin became angry as Obi-Wan grimly informed him of Tarkin’s request for an impartial trial, but Ahsoka could only watch it happen like a ghost in her own body.

Memories often seemed worse than the real event, but she wasn’t sure how true that was anymore.

She walked into the Jedi trial room in the Temple, and unlike her first time in it, she felt the blurriness of the force within it. By involving themselves in politics and betraying their ideals, the Jedi had essentially dipped into the dark side.

Ahsoka didn’t look at the Masters as they held their small, useless Jedi trial. She proclaimed her status of not guilty, just as she had the first time. She listened as they removed her from the Order she wanted nothing more than to save, even if she could never truly be a part of it again.

It was twisted, in some way, that being removed from something she hadn’t been part of for a long time was so devastating.

At that moment, as the podium lowered and her stupid Padawan beads that had only been an irritant since arriving in the past were yanked away, Ahsoka was not a time traveler. She was not Fulcrum. She had no part in an unborn rebellion, and she had never been a spy. She was just Ahsoka Tano, losing everything yet again.

The force.

Light.

Darkness, swooping in the corners, much more prominent than anyone knew.

Ten thousand Jedi around the galaxy, all linked together by a single force.

Every living being.

The sense of life on Coruscant, different from planets with natural life remaining, but unique in its own way.

The utter darkness encased in the structures around Ahsoka that everyone but her seemed to be entirely blind to.

The world was back in focus, and she knew why she was in the cell, and that she’d get out eventually. Putting herself through a memory that she hadn’t realized was so bad— it was hard to, with even worse things to compare it to; those ones wouldn’t happen— wasn’t her best idea, but she’d been through worse, and it was over. She saw clarity.

The door opened, and Padmé walked in. She’d been with Ahsoka frequently for the past few days, trying to build her defense.

The first thing she’d done was let Ahsoka lean on her as a silent support both physically and mentally, and it was all Ahsoka could do to make sure Padmé lived this time. Then, they’d begun trying to build a case towards how Maul had been the one to do it; Ahsoka had already broken him out of prison, so she could always do it again. Besides, denying such an obvious person to blame was impossible.

Then, Maul managed to get spotted by police in the lower levels of Coruscant, which led to them spotting him on security cameras several days earlier. He’d gotten himself a full alibi, and if he’d gotten himself together enough to be just as he was in the future, then he likely did it intentionally.

Now, Padmé was simply trying to prove Ahsoka’s innocence with desperate alibis and preaches of ethics. Above all else, she was supporting Ahsoka kindly, and she truly did appreciate it. Padmé put on a brave face every time she walked in, and Ahsoka felt how she tried to reign in her emotions; it wasn’t enough, but she made an effort.

Anakin had been ready to take to the streets once again in his investigation, but he had nowhere to start, so Ahsoka had convinced him out of it. Her reasoning was fragile, and if anyone truly pried they’d see that teenage Ahsoka was far too rash to act in such a way, but no one noticed. Being expelled from the Order had taught her many things, so it wasn’t too farfetched to use the excuse if need be.

She’d essentially given up, and they both knew it. As Ahsoka met Padmé’s gaze and took in her formal stance, she knew the trial had arrived, and she knew how it would end.

“We’ll figure this out, I promise.”

She smiled meekly, “Thanks. I appreciate everything you’ve done.”

She’d considered telling Padmé that she was from the future more than a few times in the past few days. She’d regained her composure and was aware of her plan and the steps she had to take in this delicate situation, but that didn’t make speaking to the dead any easier.

“And, for what it’s worth,” Padmé lowered her voice as she stepped behind Ahsoka, “I’m trying to open a case for the Jedi about them breaking their morals.”

Ahsoka turned, looking at her old friend in awe. Despite all of the kindness she’d shown thus far, Ahsoka had expected all of that, but this was new. It likely wouldn’t get anywhere, but Padmé could always do anything, so perhaps Ahsoka could push it further.

She didn’t say anything, aware that there were cameras in the cell. Instead, she threw her arms around Padmé and squeezed. She might not be able to do this for some time. If she failed, she’d never be able to do it again.

For her own sake, she let go first and turned to let the clones stationed outside of the door lead her to the trial room. They were only following orders. Unlike after they’d chased her across Coruscant, they still had sympathy for her, and she could feel it. She appreciated it. After all, she was walking into a trial with a Sith Lord as an officiator.

She didn’t look at Sidious directly, instead grazing her eyes over the Council and others sitting around the room. It was more threatening than she’d recalled, and she could feel discomfort creeping up.

In the stands was Letta Turmond.

She took a breath and wondered idly where Ventress was in the galaxy. Had she left the Separatists yet?

Ahsoka looked at the menacing camera droid floating around her. She’d hated it the first time around, knowing that anyone could be watching every reaction she had. Now, she stared at its red lens.

Tarkin was as cruel as she’d recalled, but without plausible proof or the supposed factor of murder on her hands, he didn’t suggest putting her to death— life in prison was enough for him, surprisingly. She was used to seeing his wrinkled, holographic face in the Empire; it was easy to forget that this wasn’t the Empire when he stood there and spoke like that.

She listened to them argue over her fate, unable to do anything but look back and forth. A sense of helplessness had placed itself in her gut and wouldn’t leave, but she knew enough to ignore it.

She wasn’t helpless. She was from the future, and she knew Sidious’ entire plan, and she had the resources and experience to get herself out of this mess one way or another.

He wasn’t going to win.

She listened as Sidious spoke against her, claiming her to be a Separatist scheme as he was entirely biased against her. He needed her out of the picture, just like he had last time.

They called for a break to make a decision.

She waited patiently, staring at the optical receptor droid in front of her the entire time.

She could feel the change in the air of the room when the court resumed, and she stepped up to the railing before her, wishing she could clasp her cuffed hands onto it.

“I would like to say something, first,” she announced, cutting off the member of the court who had been about to announce their decision.

Padmé looked sharply at her, attempting to silently warn her not to.

The Jedi shared cautious, curious glances.

A murmur went around the room.

Ahsoka looked up, straight into the eyes of Darth Sidious, her emotions on partial display. She’d forced a lot down, simply to avoid him reading her thoughts, but she’d planned for this.

He met her eyes, a slight challenge in them.

She gave a mental apology to Barriss Offee, although not the one watching her from the stands. Even knowing that Sidious was behind everything, even after all of the time that had passed, she’d never thought that Barriss was anything but entirely guilty of the bombing and her framing the first time.

She’d been wrong, and even from beyond the living, her dear friend had deserved better.

With surety that the droid was recording her every word, Ahsoka raised her chin and spoke.

Rex had watched the entire trial from the Resolute. Hell, half of the 501st was watching it. All of them knew that Ahsoka could never do what they claimed she did.

Rex was the only one who knew without a single doubt that she was innocent. He also knew that the trial wasn’t going to go how any of the boys wanted, and that he was watching only to be saddened.

He continued watching anyway— for Ahsoka. She looked to have regained herself after the horror that reliving a bad memory must have been, but it still couldn’t be easy.

When she stepped up and announced her intent to speak, he knew he wasn’t about to hear her beg for mercy.

“I didn’t do this.”

Well.

For the umpteenth time since arriving, she looked older than she was. He was the only one who could see it for what it was, but she was using every skill she’d gotten from living through horrors, and it was incredible.

“But, if I’m here, and if you’re going to throw me in a cell, I have something to say. Just as many citizens of the Republic have realized, the Jedi are not what they are supposed to be. We have lost our way… we’ve become villains in this conflict.”

She stared icily ahead, her gaze glancing to the recorder occasionally, even as she focused on someone before her. Her words almost felt scripted.

“You are all supposed to be peacekeepers. You are the protectors of the galaxy. You are not supposed to prolong wars and take orders from the government. You are not a governing body! Your Order is flawed, and I did not commit this crime, because I believe you can still fix it. You don’t have to succumb to the dark side.

“It’s not too late. I believe in the light side of the force, as the Jedi are supposed to. This is a difficult time, and there are many problems, but you can fix your own. The evil in the galaxy is not unbeatable.”

Speaking out against the Jedi in such a way while on trial for bombing their Temple was a direct way to get herself thrown in a cell, but she’d known that was happening regardless. That detail was what the boys around him focused on, worrying for her own sake, but he watched the holo closely.

She’d emphasized the last part of her speech, staring forward as if her life depended on it. It was a message to the evil she was talking about; the one she knew the identity of.

If she was staring forward, she must have been looking at the officiator.

Which would be… The Chancellor.

All at once, Rex’s blood ran cold.

There was no reason for her to be staring at the Chancellor like that, especially not as she left a message to the person trying to take over the galaxy.

It was everything he could do not to physically react.

It had to be impossible.

Except-

The senate event.

She’d gone to it as an unexpected late addition, and she’d been shaken when she came back. She’d said there would be more targets on her back, and she’d admitted it was about Darth Sidious. It was likely for the Chancellor to be at a senate event.

The Chancellor; someone with enough power and funds to order a clone army and put chips in their head designed to kill the Jedi. Someone beloved by the galaxy, so much so that he’d overstayed his term in the Senate and hardly anyone cared. Someone with enough influence that he could easily go from being Chancellor to Emperor, if the right strings were pulled— Sidious knew exactly which ones to pull, by the looks of it.

The Chancellor; someone close to General Skywalker. Close enough to him for Ahsoka to warn him to keep an eye on the General. Someone that she hadn’t brought up at all, after claiming that no one would be able to act normal around Sidious if they knew his identity. Someone slowly pulling the Jedi more and more into politics.

Rex was genetically trained not to react badly in stressful situations, but he felt like he could be ill.

The Chancellor was a Sith Lord.

And Ahsoka had just proclaimed her knowledge of this right to his face, just before getting tossed in a cell.

Rex looked back at the holo to see a grim Senator Amidala, an infuriated Anakin, and Ahsoka’s expressionless face as she was escorted away. Somewhere behind her was Darth Sidious, pushing her out of the way for a reason Rex didn’t know.

The Chancellor was a Sith Lord.

The most beloved man in the galaxy was the one who had orchestrated this war and destroyed Ahsoka’s future. Even with all of her skill, she admitted that she couldn’t beat Darth Sidious, and she was scared of him.

And now he knew, and there was no way he’d be able to pretend he didn’t in the way Ahsoka had.

He also knew that Ahsoka had traveled through time.

Finally, he understood why she was so adamant about hiding certain things.

Ahsoka had never actually been captured before.

She knew how Imperial cells worked, and the Republic was exactly the same. She’d been held hostage before, but she’d always had a secret advantage, and it was usually intentional on her part.

This was also intentional, and she still had an advantage.

It didn’t feel like it.

The longer she spent in the past, the more she felt the darkness around her. It wasn’t nearly as prevalent as it had been in the future, but as she adjusted to the light she felt the darkness still lingering. It was easy to spot when she was imprisoned by Darth Sidious himself.

She wasn’t foolish enough to think he’d speak to her and come close to exposing himself, but she’d half expected it. It was more than likely that at some point poisonous gas would flood her cell or her food would mysteriously stop coming, and she would die of accidental causes. It was the perfect way to ensure that she never shared what she knew.

She let herself get captured and didn’t run for Anakin’s sake, but she couldn’t stay captive forever. Breaking herself out after being charged for life would hopefully wound him less than running before a verdict could be found would, and he was about to be deployed and out of Sidious’ reach.

Sooner or later, she was going to break out.

For now, however, she looked through the visitor forcefield at Rex. There were cameras and microphones all around, so she let him start. They’d cuffed her hands with force blockers— it was like losing her sight or a hand, and she’d break out immediately if it got the cuffs off of her— so she couldn’t disable them and then play innocent, either.

“We’re being deployed in two days. The General isn’t happy.”

Of course he wasn’t.

“I saw him at the trial, I know that,” she said calmly. “Is that why he hasn’t visited?”

If she could, she wanted to soothe Anakin before she broke herself out. And, the small part of her that hadn’t died when the Jedi did was worried he had lost faith in her.

“He wants to. I think someone may be telling him not to.”

She blinked.

As he spoke, she assumed it was the Council, but the way he was urgently staring at her told her something else. There were very few people Anakin consulted and trusted— there were very few of those people who would tell him not to visit her with bad intentions.

Rex shouldn’t know about the most important— and dangerous— one.

“Is he okay?”

“As okay as anyone can be. He’s not falling apart, at the very least.”

She nodded, her mind rapidly firing as she searched for a coded way to ask what he knew. She needed to know the risks that were in play.

“What about Obi-Wan? Has he made any progress finding Maul?”


“No, not from what I’ve heard.”

Under the table, still blocked with a forcefield, she felt the energy move. He’d tapped it with his foot.

He’d lied.

There was no reason to lie about Obi-Wan, though. It would be public knowledge if he’d found Maul.

Had Rex made contact?

“Is he staying, then?”

He nodded.

“And he hasn’t visited either.”

“Try not to take it personally,” he knew she wouldn’t. “Tensions are high right now, and things are a mess. Your speech has caused… quite the stir in the Senate.”

“I hoped it would. I didn’t say it without a reason.”


He huffed a laugh, and the timer between them beeped. Their time was up.

“I don’t know when I’ll see you next,” he said, standing.

“Hopefully sooner than we think. Stay safe out there, and remember what I told you.”

Keep a careful watch on Anakin.

“Stay safe in here, too,” he said, smiling meekly.

“Thanks.”

There was a much louder buzz, and the guards walked toward her. She moved before they could grab her arms, positioning herself between them to walk back to her cell. She’d done nothing to be an unruly prisoner, but she was certainly treated like one. The cuffs were snapped off, and the force returned to her senses.

The differences between the Empire and Republic became thinner with every experience.

She sat in her cell, laying on her back uncomfortably. Due to her unique nature as a prisoner, she didn’t share a room with anyone. It would make it easier to escape, but equally as easy to remove her from the equation.

Before she could even consider drifting to sleep, the alarm screamed.

Once, twice, and it continued.

She sat up, planting her feet on the ground as she faced the door. She didn’t stand or make a move. The alarm screamed, and shouting sounded from the rooms around her.

This certainly wasn’t Sidious; if he removed her, it would be quick and mysterious. Alarms wouldn’t blare a single time, and the reveal would be slow and private.

That meant it was either very good or very bad. She’d told Rex she could get herself out, and he’d seemed to agree with her. Anakin wouldn’t do something so drastic, not with Sidious speaking in his ear, and no one else was so reckless.

It was only when she heard clones shouting to call for backup that she felt the mass of hatred fighting its way through the halls.

Maul.

All at once, she destroyed the cameras in her room. It would do no good in saving her cover and ensuring no one knew Maul broke her out, but at least it’d hide anything either of them said.

She couldn’t undo the door seal with the force, not with the restrictions put on it, but she could rip the sink out of the wall with the force and slam it into the door. It was difficult, but she wasn’t going to wait for Maul to get there when she had her own means of escaping.

It only took a few tries before the wall shattered. On the other side of it was a glowing red dual-sided lightsaber and Maul.

He’d gotten the cybernetic legs and managed to attach them, replacing the mess of metal that he must have put together. They certainly weren't what he had in the future, but adjustments could be made. He looked more stable than she’d seen.

“We’re even.”

That made sense.

“Thanks,” she stepped over the rubble. “How’d you get your lightsaber?”

“Easily,” he force-threw an incoming clone into a wall.

“I suppose my cover is done, now.”

“Yes, I suppose so,” that sounded more like the Maul she knew. “I found a ship, and I want answers. We must beat Sidious.”

She had her own questions, but they could wait until they were in a private space. She wasn’t sure if she trusted whatever ship he found, but she wasn’t in a position to be picky.

“Any chance you stole some extra lightsabers? I need a fighting chance if we have even a chance of being blade to blade with Sidious.”

Suddenly, she was reminded of the last time they stood in a hallway as an alarm blared.

He gave her a look that firmly told her no, and started running back toward the exit.

This wasn’t going to go over well, but she had time, and she had half of a plan.

She’d done much more with much worse.

At least, that had been true before the possibility of going against Sidious had become real. She wasn’t sure if she was in her usual league anymore.

Nevertheless, she’d make do. She always had.

Hopefully, this would do less damage than immediately running would have to Anakin.

Chapter Text

Ahsoka watched before her eyes as an alternate ending to order sixty-six played out.

She and Maul escaped the clones and made their way into a hanger, running up the ramp of the ship he pointed at. She ran to start it up as he continued deflecting the clones’ blasters, killing more of them than she’d like. She cut anything capable of tracking their location and lifted the craft off of the ground, wincing at the scream of the engines but sighing with relief as it didn’t fall back down.

She flew through the buildings of Coruscant, destroying traffic and likely causing more than a few accidents as she cut straight through the military lane and left the atmosphere. She soared past star destroyers and felt the strength of the Jedi leave her senses.

She punched in the coordinates for one of her old— future— checkpoints, deciding it based on muscle memory from the same numbers more than anything, and the stars blurred as Coruscant disappeared.

She fell back into her seat.

She’d left Anakin again.

Rex would take care of him, though. She had to believe that he could— that Sidious couldn’t sink his claws too deep in the day before he departed.

Metal feet clanged on the ship, and she turned her seat around. It was a decently sized shuttle, but Maul certainly knew how to make his presence known.

“I want answers.”

“I can give you some.”

His eyes narrowed as he focused on her, undoubtedly thinking of his list of questions to demand. She didn’t know exactly what to expect from him, but if she’d learned anything from running through a prison with him, it was that Maul was still Maul. He looked out of the viewport, instead.

“Where are we going?”

“A checkpoint, close to Dantooine but completely remote. It’s just a safe place to go while we figure out a plan.”

He continued looking outside as if there was anything to see before sitting down, his legs going limp without the weight on them. They couldn’t possibly be comfortable, if his consistent marching was anything to go by.

“The war happened.”

“It’s still happening, and the Jedi are on the frontlines.”

“And the clones? Like your little friend?” he sneered.

“I figured Rex visited you. They’re the soldiers, ordered by Sidious. In my time, they were used to kill all of the Jedi in a matter of hours.”

“Fascinating,” he stared at the wall.

It was her turn to sneer, and she opened her mouth to retort, but he beat her to it.

“And you don’t like me, but you still broke me out. Why?”

“We both want Sidious dead.”

“Yes, but you didn’t accept my offer in your future. Why should I accept yours now?”

“It seems you already have. If you really want to know, though, it’s because I know you hate Sidious even more than I do, and because of me, you know he’ll win if we don’t interfere. In my future, you ended up hiding in the corners of the galaxy like sewage, looking for a way to defeat him when it was already far too late for that. I figure you’d like to prevent that.”

He looked up at her, seemingly ready to lash out, before sighing.

“Sidious,” he whisper-hissed, leaning back and crossing his legs. “I suppose that does make sense.”


Ahsoka couldn’t help the slight upturn of her lips, and the immediate disgust at smiling at anything relating to Maul. Yet, for a short second, she’d looked at the same man who had taken over Mandalore and every large crime syndicate in known space, and familiarity was relieving in this young galaxy.

She was on a ship going to one of her checkpoints, and she was on the run, and knowing that the galaxy was close to falling apart should have terrified her but she was finally in her element.

“Well, I need to get new lightsabers, first.”

“Can you not steal some from any of the Jedi all over the galaxy?”

She stood; she needed to find pieces for the hilts, “I could, but you went to all that effort to receive your own when every temple guard has a dual-sided blade, so I’m sure you can get why I want to find mine.”

The judgment didn’t leave his face, but he stayed quiet momentarily.

“How do you plan on doing that? Jedi keep all of the crystals.”

That wasn’t true, but she knew what he meant. Nevertheless;

“Not all of them.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“I’m going to Jedha. Where are you going?”

He paused, clearly surprised at the question.

“I assumed you’d attempt to keep me here.”

“Well, I know all your hiding spots and where you’d run off to, so it’s not much risk.”

She didn’t have the time to search for him in those hiding spots, but if Maul truly wanted to run, he would.

“Such as?”

She raised an eyebrow halfheartedly as she pulled the ship out of hyperspace. If she told him, then he’d go somewhere else, and then she couldn’t track him.

He scoffed, “I’ll come to Jedha, then.”

The Guardians of the Whills would love that. She’d only met them after the Empire had ravaged their Temple— a decision she had wished she’d made earlier— and it had been memorable.

Hopefully, even with their small force capabilities, they’d trust her and let her in. She needed crystals. Hopefully, she could stop the Empire from ever forming to harvest those crystals.

She nodded and entered the coordinates, looking out at the vast expanse of space. This was a sight she was accustomed to. She was finding more comfort in a ship than she’d expected, and she was relieved to be out of that cell.

She looked down at her orange jumpsuit.

“Where’d you get this ship from?”

“I do not want to hear your Jedi ethics-“

“No, I want to know if there’s a chance the previous owner has clothes in the bunk, or if it’s from a military facility.”

He stared for a moment, “A hangar below the surface.”


She nodded, satisfied, and brushed past him. The bunks weren’t hard to find with the typical layout, and she was pleased to find clothes that could fit her well enough and help her blend in.

Up until she put them on, she forgot that she wasn’t as tall as she remembered, and found them too long. Thankfully, she’d dealt with more than a few pairs of stolen, ill-fitting clothes, and managed to deal with it. She'd stick out slightly on Jedha with the Coruscant standard civvies, but there were worst things.

Unfortunately, she could never escape the Sith for long.

“Lady Tano,” Maul drawled from the cockpit, not long after she’d sat down to attempt to meditate in the small cabin.

She stood with an irritated sigh. She’d never actually had to deal with Maul for prolonged periods of time without action all around them. He was still in the cockpit, although his metal legs had been propped on the chair behind him. She could see clearly that they were hardly put together properly, but she’d done what she could with no credits or time, and he could walk well enough.

“What?”

“I have more questions.”

She slowly sat in the pilot's seat, turning her head to indicate for him to start.

“Who are you?”

“Clarify.”

Being in a ship and able to act like herself became better with every moment. It almost felt like the early days of the rebellion.

“Ahsoka Tano, not a Jedi, tossed out by your master and the Jedi. What did you become?”

“A spy for an organization fighting Sidious and the government he led.”

She’d certainly never worded it that way.

“For how long?”

“About fifteen years.”

“A spy…”

“Yes, by the name of Fulcrum. If you ever send me a transmission, that’s my name.”

He scoffed, and she didn’t humor him with a response. She waited for any other questions. The air in the room darkened, and she knew she wasn’t about to get interrogated about herself or the rebellion.

“Who is his new apprentice?”

She didn’t straighten or react in any way. She wasn’t even surprised. She didn’t know much about Dooku. He died before she truly became aware, and as with most Separatist records, information about him was deleted. In some places, he was a Martyr, but it was all falsified information— like most public information was. He didn’t often speak to anyone outside of the Separatists, meaning that nearly everyone who knew him was dead.

It hadn’t been important enough to risk trying to find actual, true information about him. He was dead by the time she cared enough to look, and any damage he could do was done. She’d stayed far from Serenno for nearly her whole life.

“Darth Tyrannus, or Count Dooku. The public leader of the Separatists— the other side in this war.”

The darkness in the cockpit only seemed to condense, and Ahsoka didn’t bother trying to cool Maul down.

She straightened, “He’s not much of an opponent or a Sith. He’s a former Jedi, and he's still trying to save the galaxy with good intentions. He died before the Republic ever fell. I never fought him, but I have a feeling I could beat him. He’s nothing but a pawn.”

“I don’t need your comfort,” he sneered.

“I’m not comforting you, I’m giving you the facts so you don’t get us both killed.”

He looked at her with yellow, angry eyes, “I thought you could beat him in a fight?”

“I’m not talking about Dooku. You go after him, Sidious will find out, and then he’ll find us, and he’ll win.”

Maul didn’t look away.

“Who replaced him?”

“Excuse me?”


“He died before the Republic fell,” his head tilted to the side as his eyes narrowed. “Vader, was it?”

She didn’t bother— or act quick enough— to conceal the rise in her own emotions. Maul hadn’t been supposed to see Vader’s existence.

“That won’t be happening.”

“Who is he?”

Agitating Maul beyond his usual level of anger was a bad idea.

“Your replacement,” she stood.

There was a growl, two metal clangs, and the hiss of a lightsaber igniting.

In seconds, her hand was out and less than a meter away from a bright red lightsaber, aimed right toward her. The force hovered between her hand and the energy blade, heat radiating through it and toward her hand.

“Are we really doing this?” she asked, sure of her own ability to win. She was less sure without a lightsaber and in a compact ship that could be damaged by a flying saber, but she’d handled worse.

“Who is he?” he asked again, a snarl in his voice that reminded her of how she originally found him.

“Darth Vader.”

“No, he’s someone else-“

She released his lightsaber from the hold in the force, sending him clobbering back. He bumped into one of the chairs and fell onto the console, nearly hitting a dozen different buttons.

“I never found out,” she lied. “I was sent here first.”

“Lie!”

“Do you want to beat Sidious or not?”

His lightsaber had unignited, but he was still battle ready.


“Maybe I don’t need you to do it,” he hissed.

“That didn’t work last time, either. Don’t let him win again.”


She backed out of the cockpit before he could respond, slamming the button to shut the doors and retreating into the only cabin on the ship. She locked the door and sat down, sighing heavily.

Working with Maul was never going to be easy. Much to her surprise, he didn’t follow her.

The rest of the trip was carried out silently, with neither of them interacting. It wasn’t long before she finally left the cabin and walked past an only slightly calmer Maul to prepare to pull them out of hyperspace over Jedha.

Somehow, as she walked, she caught a whisper of something in the force. Maul was still in the cockpit, sitting in the seat behind the copilots— the furthest from her. She didn't want to stir the pot anymore than she already had, but she couldn’t let him kill them all.

She dropped the ship out of hyperspace and looked at the tan and gray planet, the caverns making patterns that weren’t common. It wasn’t shockingly beautiful like many other planets— like Coruscant had been, in its own strange way— but knowing that undisturbed life still resided on it, untouched by the war and unknowing of the Empire made it pristine in its own way.

“He won’t take you back.”

Maul looked at her, his hand close to his lightsaber and his eyes brighter in the dark without the light of hyperspace illuminating the cockpit.

She continued, “It doesn’t matter that Dooku is a pawn. Everyone is just a pawn to him, and that’s all they will ever be.”

“How could you be so sure? You lost, too.”

She didn’t take the comment personally, not when that was what he was hoping for. She considered keeping her answers vague, just as she’d done when she was Fulcrum. Hard facts were useful in some cases, like when she was giving intel for an op, but usually in situations like this, she avoided it. But, she wasn’t doing the same job she had before, and Maul wasn’t a rebel.

“I’m confident you tried to fight Sidious in the future, and I know that it didn’t work.”


His interest was piqued, and he sat up sharply.

"I lost track of you after the Jedi purge,” she turned the ship towards the planet, looking away from him as she spoke. “But, I did try to find you. In those searches, I found that before the Republic fell, you’d been on a particular planet. There were signs that you had a companion, but I couldn’t know for sure. You were making quite the mess. Then, I found a log of a republic ship arriving, and I traced it to the Chancellor. After that, your operation on that world changed drastically, and this other person disappeared.”

She chose not to mention Mandalore by name, even if this was the same Maul and he’d have the same ideas.

“But I lived.”

“And you began to hate Sidious enough to ask me to team up with you when we met.”

It had been near impossible to find out those small scraps of information, simply in an attempt to track him down despite knowing that he was somewhere in the web of crime in the other rim. Yet, suddenly, she wished she’d found more during those early days of the rebellion.

She could see him putting the pieces together in his head, his face focused even as the planet before them enlarged. He was undoubtedly trying to find ways to prove her conclusion wrong, but it was impossible. It was obvious Sidious had killed whomever Maul’s short-lived companion had been on Mandalore.

More than anything, she was surprised he believed her story at all. Somehow, she’d gotten him to trust her, even if he could hardly tolerate her. That was all she needed.

He looked away, and the turmoil in the force grew into a low rumble of anger that wasn’t abnormal for him. She focused on flying to the right location. She didn't want to bring Maul anywhere near the Guardians of the Whills, but most of all, she didn’t want him loose in town. The Jedi couldn’t track them down.

That was, if the Guardians didn’t call the Jedi in the first place.

“You’re not coming in. I’m leaving you with the ship, and it's in our best interest if you don't wander around.”

Maul snorted, “And if I fly away and leave you here?”



“Well, if you really don't want to team up to beat Sidious, in your own words, we can all burn.”

His feral screams after they captured him on Mandalore had haunted her nightmares for years to come; he hadn’t been wrong.

After several minutes of silence while she landed on the edge of a designated landing area, “In what context did I say that?”

“Minutes before the Jedi died and Sidious won, when we captured you.”

The ship touched the ground with a thud, and she stood. She'd found a blaster in the cabin and chosen to forego it; the only reason to bring it was as a disguise, but leaving a weapon behind was a greater statement to those who mattered.

The flipped up the hood of the cloak she’d found, her montrals poking two small holes upwards. In the future, this cloak wouldn’t have worked; the hood wouldn’t have been large enough.

She still wished she had her future body, but that wasn’t important. Getting lightsabers, however, was. She had enough metal pieces in the inner pockets of the cloak to weigh her down. She'd spent most of the journey ransacking the inner workings of the ship, even compromising the weapon controls, to find the right pieces.

“What am I supposed to do, then?”

She tossed him a comm.

“Keep watch and stay hidden. If anyone asks, you’re just here to pick someone up. They shouldn't ask, though.”

“And do what?”

“Keep yourself occupied, I don’t know. Whatever it is you do— without making a mess. If that’s possible.”

He scoffed, but she was already down the hall before she could hear his proper response. He was certainly less talkative than he had been in the future, but his formality was still evident.

She opened the cockpit hesitantly and pulled her hood further over her face before stepping out. She nearly paused, but she was too well trained for that.

Ahsoka Tano was seeing a non-Imperial Jedha for the first time.

She kept her head down and walked through crowds. It was as busy as before, but the conditions were noticeably better. There were fewer people begging on the streets. They were just as busy, but she was one of the few people keeping her head so far down. Some people smiled or waved to others as they passed. There were no stormtroopers lining the streets.

She wasn’t going to let the Empire rise and destroy this.

Two children sat on the side of the busy street, a toy ship in one of their hands. They were both swinging their legs and laughing. Down an alley that she was a group of people, likely on their break from work. They didn’t look overly joyous, but they were happy.

She breathed in the pure life around her, the kyber crystals lining the planet singing a tune that brought everything together. The planet wasn’t perfect, and the busy city certainly could be improved, but it was still beautiful.

Shining even brighter was the Temple looming into the sky. It was carved of stone, and the style of it wasn’t unfamiliar to her, but it was breathtaking nonetheless.

She stopped looking and walked towards the base of it, a large door standing in the front. She was more welcome here than she would be in any Jedi Temple, fugitive or not. The force didn’t care about her status as a criminal, it only knew that she wasn’t a Jedi. However, this was not a Jedi Temple.

Two unfamiliar unmasked beings stood at the door, standing not quite formally but without an air of laziness. They both looked at her, and then at each other.

She passed them and met no opposition.

She didn’t rush through the hallways. Her eyes traced each statue and carving, fascinated by it. Seeing practically every trace of the force pushed out of existence made seeing what still was a capturing experience, especially when she’d thought she would never be able to see the Jedha Temple.

“Who are you?” a voice called from the end of the hallway. She didn’t have to reach the end to know who it was.

She wasn’t entirely familiar with the Guardians of the Whills. They hadn’t been massacred like the Jedi, but many of them died when their Temple was destroyed and looted. Even more of them died when they tried to fight the Empire. Almost everyone who survived left and disappeared into the galaxy.

There were some who stuck around, however. Naturally, when she’d gone to Jedha the first time, they’d felt her strength in the force and she’d met them.

Chirrut Îmwe stood at the end of the hall, another entrance beside him. He wasn’t guarding it like the others; he seemed to have paused when he noticed her making her way near.

“Ahsoka Tano. I’m hoping to find two crystals.”

“Ahsoka Tano,” he repeated, cocking his head to the side curiously. “You are not a Jedi.”


“I’m glad someone noticed.”

“You are strange.”

“May I attempt to find two crystals?”

He raised his chin, a slight smile on his face.

“You are Ahsoka Tano, but, who are you really?”

“Someone who knows you, Chirrut Îmwe.”

The Guardians of the Whills didn’t typically have force sensitivity beyond sensing those around them, and she could only imagine what Chirrut sensed from her. It was likely hard to decipher, so she saw no point in lying or pretending she didn’t know him. He’d sense nothing but genuineness from her, and she wanted to keep it that way.

He was undoubtedly surprised, but he grinned.

“How interesting. Well, you have places to be, so you may go on.”

“Thank you,” she said earnestly.

“Take a left down the hall. Though, I warn you of what someone like you may find in your search.”

Temples never gave anything easily, so she wasn’t surprised.

She followed his directions, making her way down a deserted hallway. Crystals began to become visible, but none of them were for her. Eventually, the cavern-like hallway descended into stairs, and then it opened up into a true cavern. Crystals were visible in the walls, all the way up to the ceiling. She’d never seen anything like it.

“Ahsoka!”

Ahsoka turned around to see Anakin walking over, his tan robes swaying with him.

“About time,” she smiled, crossing her arms beneath her lekku.

“Hey, the younglings keep me busy. You of all people should know that.”

His words were familiarly chiding, but his grin took away any of the weight from them. It wasn’t as if she was his Padawan anymore.

“Oh, I know, but I can still be on time.”

He opened his mouth to retort back, but his gaze caught on something behind her.

“Speaking of younglings.”

She turned around to see Ezra walking towards them, his slowly lengthening Padawan braid tangled with the rest of his hair. He nearly tripped down the decadent staircase from the Temple at least twice as she watched him.

“I heard that! You know I’m not a youngling anymore, Master Skywalker!”

Ahsoka smiled, sensing Anakin’s gaze on her. She attempted to hide it from them both, but there was no point.

“I’ve heard that before,” Anakin said quietly.

A knowing grin spread across Ezra’s face, “What does that mean?”

“It means Master Skywalker is getting old,” Ahsoka elbowed her former master.

“And you’re not, Master Tano?” a fourth voice said from the opposite direction Ezra had come in.

She turned to see Caleb Dume— something odd pinged in the force— walking toward them, ready to spar like they’d all planned. Ezra had an unfair disadvantage of being the youngest, but that was the point of training.

“Master!” Ezra shouted, moving past her and Anakin.

As he did, he paused beside her.

“Hera told me to tell you we got your intel.”


Ahsoka stepped back, her eyes widening as Ezra stopped at his Master’s side. It was like nothing had happened.

The war had ended before she even became a Padawan, there was no reason for Ezra to say such a thing.

“If only Cal was coming,” Caleb said, placing his hand on Ezra’s head. Ezra immediately shrugged away, swiping playfully at his Master's hand.

Cal Kestis? She’d never been able to track him down-

“We need to start bringing more Padawans to train with Ezra,” she said.

“Maybe it's about time you got your own Padawan, Master Tano,” Anakin grinned. “Your turn to struggle?”


“Oh, are you struggling to keep up, Master?” Ezra grinned.

Anakin raised his eyebrows, “That is not what I said-“

“It’s fine, you can admit it,” Caleb said.

Ahsoka’s attention was drawn by a hand in her peripheral, and she saw Barriss waving. She was walking with another mirilian whom Ahsoka could have sworn was familiar, her circular lightsaber swinging on her hip in a way that made Ahsoka feel for her own sabers.

Instead of feeling her uneven hilts, the ones she’d had since she became a Padawan, she felt smooth, largely untextured hilts.

She looked down to see them, both familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. When she looked back up, the second mirilian was in dark armor and looking right at her.

It was gone in an instant, but she had already stepped back. Behind her, Anakin, Kanan, and Ezra were still talking enthusiastically.

“Ahsoka, did you hear?”


“What?”

“You and I are up first. It’s been a while. Let’s show Ezra what a real fight looks like.”

Everyone seemed up for the idea, and no one else noticed anything amiss, so she pulled out her lightsabers and walked into the small arena in the outdoor training grounds that Anakin had chosen.

She ignited her lightsabers and paused, looking at the two different shades of green.

Before she could truly think about it, Anakin lunged at her, heavy strikes knocking against her blades. She dodged, but a sinking feeling grew in her chest, and suddenly the blades were red and Anakin was-

Ahsoka staggered back and out of the arena.

She had to beat the Empire. What was she meant to be doing?

When she looked back up, the three of them were back in a group, laughing just as they had been moments ago. It wasn’t right, though. Ezra and Kanan-

She noticed Obi-Wan in the group, except he wasn’t laughing. His hair was graying and his eyes were wrinkled and sad, boring into her. She needed to save him. Everyone was going to burn-

She stopped walking as her feet hit a cliffside, with nothing but darkness beneath the split in the Jedi Temple training area.

“Ahsoka! Are you coming? Barriss is gonna join us, so we gotta go!”

Anakin, with tan robes and blue eyes. With the Jedi symbol on his shoulder and a blue lightsaber on his hip. With all of the love and kindness in the galaxy, not yet used against him but still pure and earnest.

Of course her Temple visions wouldn’t be nightmare scenarios; she’d been through enough terrors in reality already.

Of course it’d show her the life they could have had.

Luckily for her, she’d likely never be able to trust safety again. As alluring as it was, and as deeply as she wanted this life, the Jedi robes she wore were wrong. Even in her adult body and without the tragedies she’d faced, she couldn’t simply live. She had to fight.

It was the only way they’d win.

Rex had asked once what she’d do after they won, and she didn’t know. A part of her hoped she wouldn’t have to worry about it, or anything after they won.

She was in the past, after all. There hadn’t been much of a life for her in the future, for after they won, but now there truly wasn’t.

It didn’t matter.

She hadn’t beaten Sidious yet.

To beat him, she had to get lightsabers, and then begin her plan.

He wouldn’t win again.

Ahsoka met Obi-Wan’s sad eyes, and for the first time, she saw what had become of him. He gave a firm nod, filled with all of the trust and care that the Obi-Wan who sat on the council should have prioritized. The Obi-Wan Kenobi who lived through the purge and saw what Anakin Skywalker became knew everything that Ahsoka did, and it was why she nodded back.

She leaped off of the cliff and was met with Darth Vader’s mask.

Vader’s saber slashed around her, the screams of everyone he’d hurt echoing as she fell. She reached out with the force towards a floor that never seemed to arrive. The space turned to flames, and she saw the Temple burning. The flames burned into metal, and Barriss Offee was shot in her cell by the clone who had brought her meals.

None of it was anything she hadn’t seen in her nightmares before.

Ahsoka shut her eyes and reached into the force and into herself. She took the hate and fear and pushed it outwards, where it could be used for good. She could use it, and she had, but it couldn’t be out of her own self-interest.

Her eyes opened, and she was a Padawan on Ilum, looking at a shining white kyber crystal.

Ahsoka’s shoulders relaxed in a way she didn’t know was possible, and her teenaged legs gave out. In front of her, on Jedha, were two kyber crystals.

Her eyes stung.

They could have been so happy.

She took a rare moment, sitting in a small cave within the Temple on Jedha. As soon as she stood, she was going to begin her plan to save the galaxy, and she wasn’t sure if she’d walk out of that.

She picked up her kyber crystals and held them close to her chest, thanking the force.

With gentle movements, she took out all of the metal pieces she’d found. They would make her messiest lightsabers yet, but they’d fit together, and that was all that mattered.

She wiped her eyes and straightened onto her knees, spreading the pieces out before her.

It didn’t take long.

The force meshed and moved around her and every other living being, and at that moment, she used it for herself to create two lightsabers. It wasn’t the conscious moving of individual items, but instead, the pieces lifting and moving perfectly to make the right combination that she willed it to.

In front of her were two hilts, hovering in the air. They were comprised of circular bolts and tubes she’d managed to find in the inner workings of Maul’s stolen ship, and the kyber crystals sat within it, perfectly protected.

She reached out and grabbed them before they could fall.

They were so much easier to create when the galaxy wasn’t shrouded in darkness.

She pressed the ignition buttons, those of which were much larger than on any of her previous lightsabers. The hilts were different, but in the darkness of the cavern, white blades lit up like stars.

She smiled softly to herself.

With the familiar weight of the galaxy on her shoulders, Ahsoka stood up, setting the hilts on her hips. They were more comfortable than the green ones she’d had not long ago, although foreign compared to her old, smooth hilts of the future.

She’d adjust.

She walked through stone hallways, passing the familiar face of Baze Malbus on the way out. Based on the look he gave her, he’d been told about her. She didn’t see Chirrut again, but she could sense him wandering about.

She kept her head down and walked back to the ship, pleased to sense Maul still aboard it. She wasn’t sure how much he’d like the next phase of her plan, especially with how little she wanted him involved, but she could wait to find out.

The war had started long ago, but for the first time, she had a chance of winning.

Chapter Text

The Resolute’s departure was finally rescheduled and set to happen in the next few hours. Much to the Admiral’s— and everyone else’s— dismay, that entirely hinged upon General Skywalker.

“No, no,” the general in question said, holding a hand out to General Kenobi. “I get why she’d run away after what the senate did to her. I should’ve broken her out myself. But, Maul? What is she thinking?”

“Don’t say that, Anakin.”

They all knew that Kenobi wasn’t scolding him for judging Ahsoka or her trial, just as they’d all looked around when General Skywalker admitted to being willing to commit treason. The only people in the room were the Generals, Rex, and Cody, and the doors were firmly sealed shut.

“I just don’t get it,” he slammed his hands on the table.

Rex hadn’t contacted Maul directly, but he had changed the frequency on his comm to go to the source channel itself and read out the location Ahsoka was being held at, hoping that Maul would be at the safe house. He could only assume that he was, and that he’d heard the message loud and clear. It was more surprising that he’d actually broken her out.

Rex hadn’t wanted Ahsoka in a cell when the Sith Lord whose radar she was on controlled the entire Republic.

General Skywalker continued, moving away from the holotable to pace, “We shouldn’t be leaving. I need to be part of the search. She’s just… afraid,” he turned, pointing a finger at General Kenobi. “And, you know as well as me that she didn’t turn to the dark side! Nothing about her felt dark! I don’t care what the other Jedi think. They don’t know her.”

Rex stayed quiet, hoping that the Jedi in the room didn’t feel his discomfort. He didn’t like lying to his Jedi or friends.

Luckily, he didn’t know what Ahsoka was doing either. He was happy she’d gotten out, and now she could do work in the way she seemed most comfortable, but he didn’t know where she was going or how Maul truly played into it. He did, however, know where she went. It just so happened that he’d hidden the report made by a bounty hunter who had been wondering if he could get a bounty for her on a planet called Jedha. No one else had seen it before Rex buried it.

He didn’t know where Jedha was or why it was important, and he wasn’t going to risk looking it up. The holo that had been taken of her was blurry and low quality, but her facial markings clearly gave her away, even beneath her hood. She was looking upwards, her face a mask even as she focused on something in front of her enough to miss a holo of her being taken.

She was undoubtedly already gone.

“I didn’t sense anything dark from her either, but, Anakin,” General Kenobi’s voice was full of dread, “I’m worried that may be our attachment to her getting the best of us. Jedi don’t team up with a Sith to run from justice without a reason, and you know she’s been acting strange for the past few weeks. I don’t want to lose faith in her, but…”

“Are you kidding me?” Skywalker shouted, slamming a hand on the table.

“Anakin, calm down.”

“No, I’m not calming down when everyone has lost faith in her!”

“I don’t think Ahsoka could ever do what everyone is saying she has, but it is hard to ignore the evidence.”

“I can’t believe this. I’m— I’m going to speak to the Chancellor. I’m not leaving until we’ve found her.”

Rex suppressed a flinch and prayed to whatever gods existed that neither Jedi had felt his emotions at that moment. General Skywalker was already heading toward the door, a storm of anger and emotions.

Rex couldn’t let him speak to the Chancellor. Ahsoka hadn’t once mentioned what happened to Anakin in the future, and Rex had a feeling that being as close to Darth Sidious as he was made him an easy target for the moment the cards fell.

He swiped at the holotable twice and hoped no one saw him.

“Wait!” he said, pulling up the previously hidden report. “Someone saw her.”

Skywalker was at his side before Rex could blink, looking at the holo and enlarging it for everyone to see.

“Jedha?” Cody, who had previously been quiet as the argument ensued, said.

“No sign of Maul,” Kenobi murmured.

“Where even is Jedha?”

General Kenobi was already searching it on the other side of the table as General Skywalker stared at the suddenly lifesized holo. Ahsoka looked more alive than she had on Coruscant, consistently playing a role that she obviously wasn’t anymore.

Her expression was entirely passive, with her lips pressed together and her eyes squinting at something ahead of her. She looked the same as she always did, even if there was no smile on her face or known plan in anyone's mind but her own.

“Jedha is a moon with a Temple guarding kyber crystals.”

Rex looked at Kenobi, the pieces clicking together in his head faster than the others. Her lightsabers had been taken, and they hadn’t seemed to fit her, anyway. He recalled how she’d stared at the hilts after initially waking up.

He suddenly felt much better knowing that she had lightsabers; not that he had to worry about her safety much in the first place. She could clearly handle herself, but it was still a relief.

“Is she trying to get lightsabers?” Cody asked, assuming the worst. Rex might have, too, if he didn’t know the truth.

“It’s not that easy,” General Kenobi said.

General Skywalker was on another page, “We have to go Jedha.”

“Anakin, we’re being deployed. We can’t just-“

“I don’t care. It’s not like we haven’t done worse.”


He wasn’t wrong.

“I agree,” Rex said, knowing that Ahsoka would be gone by the time they got there. It’d keep General Skywalker away from the Chancellor while Ahsoka did whatever she needed.

General Skywalker met his eyes, smiling with a sense of gratitude. A sense of relief rushed into Rex, and he returned the smile. He never liked when Jedi shared their emotions, but he was doing what Ahsoka had asked, so he could look past it. She probably hadn’t asked him to look out for Skywalker without a good reason.

“Then, we’re going.”

“We have to consult the Council-“

“And we have a duty to the citizens-“

“And we have a duty to Ahsoka as her family, and the Council has turned its back on her. Whether you come or not, I’m going to Jedha, and I’m going to figure this out.”

General Skywalker turned around, clearly aware that Admiral Yularen wouldn’t take the whole ship to a reportedly peaceful moon. So, Rex followed, putting on his helmet so he didn’t have to see the look Cody was giving him.

It was only a moment before General Kenobi joined them, Cody dutifully following.

“Finally,” Maul groaned, glancing up at her lazily.

“Start the ship.”

Ahsoka didn’t miss how his eyes caught both of her lightsabers, and she wasn’t sure if it was out of curiosity or trying to find out every way she proved a threat; probably both.

“I thought you were the pilot,” he switched into the pilot's seat as she began wiping the nav history.

“The pilot is whoever isn’t doing something more useful.”


He scoffed before growing distracted, “I know where we will go.”

She grimaced to herself, wondering what direction he could possibly go in.

“We shall go to Dathomir and lure Sidious there. We may not be able to fight him alone, but the Nightsisters certainly could assist.”

Maul asking her to go to his home was the last thing she’d expected. She didn’t know he held it to any sentimental value, but he didn’t do things without strong reasons.

“That won’t work.”

He’d gotten them into the atmosphere, so he turned to look at her, his face flat and expecting. She ducked out from under the console, their nav history officially cleared.

“I don’t know much about the Nightsisters because they were wiped out by the Separatists before the Empire even rose. I know they’re powerful, but Sidious outweighs every group right now.”

“Then where are we going?” he snapped. “Do you plan to go on time-wasting journeys and claiming to make a plan forever?”

“No, I don’t. We’re going to Kamino.”

“Why? For another Jedi relic or-“

“It’s where the clones are from. I’m going to make sure Sidious can’t control them all with the press of a button.”

“To save the Jedi.”

She pulled herself into the copilot seat, “To save us all. I know you don't care for the Jedi, but this isn’t just about saving them. By getting the Jedi out of the way, with the power he already has, Sidious wins. Set your personal feelings for them aside and see that as long as he coexists with them, he’ll have an opponent, and we can use that.”

He looked out of the viewport, where Jedha still loomed. Ahsoka reached idly for her lightsabers, her mind stuck on the present for once. It had been beautiful.

She willed images of a happy life in the Jedi Order out of her mind only to find Vader and dead Inquisitors reflecting in the back of her eyelids. She forced them even further down.

“Fine, we’ll go to Kamino. But, I’m not staying on the ship this time.”

“I didn’t expect you to.”

He punched in the coordinates with unnecessarily angry taps at the screen, and Jedha disappeared. She stood to leave him to brood alone; spending prolonged time with Maul was never preferable.

“You have sabers.”


She paused, “Yes.”


“Considering the circumstances, I’d say we both could use some saber practice.”

She could have said no. She could have prioritized both their safety, along with the ships. She could have taken time to meditate or research what was coming up. Yet, Ahsoka had been fighting for nearly as long as she could remember, and she was more at home in a fight than she was asleep.

“All right.”

A small grin stretched his lips, and he stood on somewhat unstable legs. She walked to the cockpit and pushed the few boxes into the hall. He leaped over them, clearly gearing up to spar.

She didn’t waste a second positioning herself in the corner, watching Maul do the same on the other side. She pulled out both of her lightsabers, her fingers fitting perfectly beneath the uneven pieces of the hilt, and ignited them as she crossed them over each other. She held them out straight on each side, leaning in a partial lunge toward one side even as her back remained straight and forward. She’d done this stance more times than she could count.

Bright, white blades illuminated the dim cockpit, catching Maul’s yellow eyes for a moment before a red staff mixed with the white light in the room. He held the staff out with one hand, bending his knees to brace for attack.

Instead of being in a large throne room with battle all around them, they were in the silence of hyperspace in a small cockpit. She smiled at the challenge.

Unlike their first fight, she jumped forward first, her lightsabers slamming against his in perfect rhythm. She stepped back, and he stepped forward. Before either of them knew it he swung his lightsaber into the wall, and she nearly stumbled when she flipped onto a crate.

She struck on both sides of his saber, and he responded with brute strength. Anger mixed in the room, fueling one side of the fight and pushing against the other. Unlike him, she didn’t fight with her pain at the forefront of everything, instead using calm logic and strategy that had gotten her through life.

In contrast, Maul fought with anger and emotion in every blow. It wasn’t the pure strength that the true force of the Sith brought— not the heavy blows Vader gave. Maul didn’t put all of his force into two hands on a blade, instead relying on nearly as much agility as her.

It was easier in her younger body, but she still wasn’t entirely used to it, and she swung too high or leaped too low multiple times. Maul noticed and lead her into those moves multiple times, unknowingly allowing her to plan ahead and grow accustomed to the right way to move.

His legs gave him a similar disadvantage, and his steps were uneven. He moved too far forward or back frequently, and he’d ended up on one leg more than a few times. She could see the frustration it brought, but she didn’t hold back; that’d only frustrate him more.

She kicked him, and he sent one white blade flying out of her hand. She kept her grip one-handed, as it was how she worked best.

He intentionally pushed her toward the wall, so as he was mid-strike, in a move she would never teach or recommend to anyone, she reached out and grabbed his lightsaber hilt. Her hold was uneven, as his hand was centered, but it gave him pause. For a short second, the hum of swinging blades and their grunts stopped.

She smiled and willed her second lightsaber back into her hand. He leaped back, but she swung the returned weapon at his legs first, nearly hitting him. She stopped her blade before she could hit the metal, and he stumbled backward, falling onto the floor.

He was rusty and stuck with prosthetic limbs, something she couldn’t understand. His lightsaber had already been unignited and scattered onto the other side of the room.

Despite her unfamiliar size, she had a dozen different advantages. Most prominently was time, but their situations were different. This was his first proper fight since he’d fought Obi-Wan, she assumed. He could undoubtedly see this fact, and she could feel how it angered him.

She held out a hand and sighed as he shrugged it off, pulling himself up on rocky legs.

“That,” he took a breath, “was not how a real fight would go.”

She ignored his comment so as to not start an argument, “It’s good practice. I haven’t spared like that in a long time.”

Despite the mock-fight not being particularly long, they were both worn out. She’d had the advantage of growing her skills with time, but they’d both been good at striking quickly for years. Her fights with Inquisitors had never come close to matching Maul’s skill.

He grunted, using the force to toss the crates out of the hallway.

“There’s ration packs in the lounge. Don’t starve.”

He’d already disappeared down into the cockpit by the time she could respond, but a small smile crossed her face. Food hadn’t been a priority of hers since she’d been sitting in her cell and worrying over how Sidious would attempt to kill her, but she suddenly realized how hungry she was.

This Maul was different.

She wasn’t sure how he’d been pulled out of Lotho-Minor last time, or how his mental state was fixed so quickly and effectively. This Maul was the same person, but different in how he healed, and she could see it. He wasn’t entirely whole again, if he ever had been in the first place. If he was, she’d be hearing speech after speech and there’d undoubtedly be a whole lot more arguments— in which he’d keep his head and wouldn’t attempt to strike her, in most cases. It was different.

Giving him someone to trust right off of the bat had been accidental, but a good idea. She didn’t trust him entirely, but having someone who knew her secret and didn’t pity her for it was nice, too.

She managed to find the ration packs in the lounge, and then she fell asleep in the cabin. It had been a long day, but the upcoming ones would be even longer.

It had been clear almost immediately that Ahsoka wasn’t on Jedha anymore, and there were no traces of where she’d gone. They’d found her landing location, but the employee hadn’t been able to give any information to either of the generals, even with their different tactics of asking.

General Kenobi had gotten them out of being reported for mutiny to the Jedi Council, and Cody had gotten them out of trouble with Yularen.

Nevertheless, the Resolute was once again delayed, and without any more signs of Ahsoka’s location, the two Jedi and clone captains returned to Coruscant.

Rex wasn’t sure if he should be relieved or not.

Ahsoka woke up to a jolt and found herself against the cold metal floor.

She blinked away weariness and threw off her blanket in an instant, leaning on the bunk she had just fallen off of to stand. There was another jolt, and her lightsabers fell out of the bunk.

They were in her hands in an instant as she ran out of the cabin.

There was no threat, and she realized that as soon as she got out of the room. She could feel that she and Maul were the only ones on the ship, but the outside had changed; they weren’t in hyperspace anymore.

There was another jolt as she ran into the cockpit. It was illuminated in low blue light from the outside, and all she could see was heavy rain.

“Ah, you’re awake.”

“Why would you pull us out of hyperspace while I was asleep?”

“I don’t take orders from you.”

“I’ve been wondering where that side of you was,” she murmured as he switched into the copilot seat, clearly unsure of where he was going.

Immediately she pushed them higher into the air to avoid hitting any buildings that they couldn't see through the thick rain of Kamino. She didn’t know where she was going, either, unfortunately. There was someone who would.

She pulled out the spare comm she’d made and sliced into her Fulcrum channel with. Hesitantly, she pressed at it, ensuring Rex wouldn’t hear her voice but would hear the beep and know she was contacting him. She’d wanted to avoid this, to avoid making a difficult situation for him, but she was out of options.

“What are you doing?”

“Be patient.”

“You’re about to get us ki-“

The comm crackled, “Fulcrum?”

She flashed a cocky smile at Maul, “Are you secure?”

“Yes, are you okay?”

He was whispering right into the comm. He was likely on the Resolute and had dipped into an only marginally private space.

“Yes. Where is the clone compound on Kamino?”


There was a beat of silence as he likely processed what she was saying.

"North, in-“

“Coordinates.”

Another beat of silence left Maul scowling.

“Four one point four zero,” she typed them in as he spoke, “three three eight, two point one seven four zero three. Stay safe.”

She cut off the transmission and clicked the comm back onto her sleeve, maneuvering the ship upward and towards the location he’d given. He knew what she was asking for, and he’d given her the right place.

“You trust that?”

“I do. He knows what I’m looking for.”

“Which is?”

“The lab. I need to find a way to… turn off the clone’s biochips.”

His face was deadpan, “You’re going to save the Jedi by slicing?”

“If I have to.”

A building came into view at the correct coordinates, so she could only assume it was the one she was looking for. The landing zone wasn’t particularly large, and it was astonishing that they didn’t have any sort of cover from the rain, but she set them down nonetheless.

“And, they undoubtedly know we’re here.”

“So we’re fighting our way in… what fun.”

She paused momentarily as she stood up from her seat, hearing Maul’s cackles from when he’d said the exact thing not along ago on Malachor.

“Kill as few as you can.”


He side-eyed her.

“I mean it.”

“They’re clones.”

“They’re people, and we just got this information from a clone.”

He scoffed, not giving her an affirmative. She didn’t push and began down the hallway, forgoing her cloak. They’d know who she was soon enough, and she didn’t need it getting in her way.

The ramp opened, and rain immediately blew past them. She and Maul were out in a second, running on the slippery path and toward the door. She didn’t expect to be able to open it, so she jabbed her lightsabers into it immediately. It was only a moment before a sizable hole fell inwards, and she and Maul had joined it.

She’d never been on Kamino, but it was somehow exactly what she’d expected.

Four clones ran out, blasters ready. She picked up the piece of plasteel she’d just carved out and slammed two of them with it as Maul pushed the others over and hit them in the head with his saber hilt. He didn’t kill them, and she almost smiled.

“Well, where are we going?”

“I have no clue.”

She started down the hall, following the stereotypical directions in a military base to find a console. It was different from Imperial or Republic bases, but there was a logic to the way things were set up, and she could assume where the nearest console was.

It was further than she thought, and they had to fight an unfortunate amount of clones, but it was child's play for the two of them. Ahsoka forced down any thoughts of order sixty-six and didn’t look at their visors, instead focusing on Maul beside her and the white of her lightsabers.

This was it. If she couldn’t somehow reverse the order in the biochips on Kamino, she was entirely clueless as to how else she was supposed to do it, and then Sidious could win at any second. Once he found out what she’d tried to do, he’d undoubtedly set off the order, anyway.

After knocking two clones into the ceiling, Ahsoka ran into a small circular room with two curved hallways on either side. In the center was a floor-to-ceiling database, jutting out at waist level with consoles.

She didn’t have to ask Maul to cover her as she put her lightsabers away and began searching. The format was entirely different from what she was used to, but she’d sliced a lot of things. She needed a lab or technical room where she could remotely access the chips or more private space with its own console.

It took entirely too long to find, and by the time she located something that might be what she needed, she was deflecting the blaster bolts that Maul couldn't stop due to the sheer amount of them.

“Got it!”

Maul slammed the door shut, and she hopped into the fray to fight the clones coming from the other side. Incapacitating them rather than killing them was difficult and time-consuming, but she had to try. She felt bad, forcing them to fight intruders without any knowledge as to what was happening.

She wondered if Sidious knew yet.

They ran through hallway after hallway. She took a blaster bolt to her shin and had to deflect three bolts into three clones’ chests, and a small piece of metal fell off of Maul’s left leg. The Kaminoan hallways weren’t equipped with occasional blast doors in the way Imperial ships were, meaning that they actually had to fight every assailant in a hall instead of simply blocking them off.

It was tedious, but it was worth it when she came upon the room. Immediately, she knew that despite the odd label, she’d gotten the right place. The room was filled with consoles and screens, some of them clearly equipped for displaying medical information.

Maul stabbed his lightsaber into the door controls to keep the clones out for at least a few minutes, “Well?”

“I’m looking,” she said, too focused on what was doing on to bicker.

She leaned over the first console and easily made her way past the password, finding thousands of different data files for different facets. There was already shouting outside of the door.

She clicked through file after file, glancing behind her to see Maul guarding the door. They were trying to get in, and her mind went to a specific place, but she blocked it out. Rex wasn’t on a cot beside her, possibly ready to kill her and the rest of the Jedi as darkness only grew around her.

She was going to stop it.

She located the subcategory of the biochips, but there was no information about order sixty-six specifically, which wasn’t exactly surprising. There was nothing about the orders the chips could give. It was stuck under layers and layers of information that she didn’t have time to sift through.

Time didn’t matter. She had to find it.

She was opening another file on the console beside her when she noticed something on the first screen.

“Any day now,” Maul said ruggedly.

On the first console, under a section of the data on the functionality of biochips without a written purpose, were two switches. They were real buttons on the console, but suddenly they’d lit up. One was green and one was red.

Her heart was beating in her ears, and she didn’t waste a second flipping one of them.

An error appeared on the screen. She flipped the switch back and found that it had switched to another file: a file displaying thousands of clone numbers.

She’d found it.

A switch located with the biochip categories; there was only one thing it could possibly do, considering the actual orders within the chips were vocal. There was no other use for it than disabling the chips.

Except, it wasn’t on a mass scale, and there wasn’t enough time in the galaxy to cancel out every single clone's chip. She desperately tapped at the console, trying to find another way to do it, but the button lights disappeared.

The door opened, and Maul killed at least five clones. He was preparing to close it again when she got an idea.

“Wait! Grab one!”

With a growl, he did exactly that, before slamming the door shut once again— and mauling a clone in the process. Maul held his lightsaber to the clone's neck, raising an eyebrow expectantly.

“What’s your ID, soldier?”

“I’m not telling you!”

She didn’t have time for this.

She raised her hand and dipped into the force, “You will tell me your clone ID.”

“Cee-Tee three-seven-eight-nine…”

Her hand dropped, and she could see his expression morph. Instantly she was searching for it in the system beneath the biochip subcategory. The switch didn’t light back up, and her heart fell slightly, but she could test it.

She flipped the switch and prayed she didn’t imagine the slight twitch of the clone's eye.

“Execute order sixty-six,” she said, the words like acid in her mouth.

Her world hung in the balance, with everything else seeming to slow as the clone blinked.

“Excuse me?”

“Order sixty-six, do it,” she said, one lightsaber ignited in her hand.

“I don’t know what that means, and you’re not my commander!”

Maul knocked him out, clearly sensing that he’d done what Ahsoka wanted. She couldn’t help but stare, gawking at the clone.

She found a way to disable it.

Now, she had to do it for every clone.

She swiveled back around and put away her lightsaber. For a moment that felt like an eternity, she stared at the screen, trying to process how to work this.

There was no subcategory for entire battalions in the information about biochips, and even then, she still wouldn’t be able to reach them all. She had to start somewhere, though.

She turned back on another console and began cross-wiring them, one displaying the biochip information and the other displaying the clone battalions. She found out which clone battalion was banging on the door based on CT-3789’s ID, and with everything displayed, she flipped the switch.

The banging didn’t stop.

“Open the door and tell them to execute order sixty-six.”

“Do you have a death wish?”

“They’re already trying to kill us, so it’s no extra harm if they do hear the order. I need to know if it worked.”


Maul looked somewhat convinced, but they didn’t have time to sit around. She extended her hand and swished the door upwards.

Maul had the gall to roll his eyes, “Execute order sixty-six.”

Blaster bolts had already begun lighting up the room, and both of them were deflecting them. None of the clones budged at the order.


“I said, execute order sixty-six.”


Several of the clones turned their helmets to each other, and Ahsoka could have cried at the very fact that it had worked. Maul shut the door and they took care of the clones remaining in the room. Despite having little clue of what was going on, Maul nodded to her, and she turned to do the same thing for the other battalions.

It was going to take too long, but she didn’t have time to find another solution when there might not have been one.

She started with the 501st, then the Coruscant Guard battalions, then the 212th. It took entirely too long for her to get every battalion currently on Coruscant, but she did it, and then started working at every other battalion she knew off the top of her head.

There were still millions of clones, and the door was weakening. Soon enough, they wouldn’t be able to shut it anymore.

Maul seemed to mutter something behind her, and she turned to see that his eyes had a somewhat distracted haze to them. He looked as he had in prison.

“Maul?”

“Do your work,” he said between grit teeth, sounding entirely like himself. He was fighting fine, but his mind still wasn't intact.

She did exactly as he told her, stepping back to look at the console entirely.

Her eyes caught the switch that she’d frantically been using for an unknown amount of time, and her forehead wrinkled. With slower movements than she should’ve had, she pulled up the data on the functionality of the current biochips. If she could link it to the console with the disabling switch, she could disable them all.

It was locked.

She slammed her hand against the edge of the console, begging her mind to think. She’d already begun to attempt to slice it, but it wasn’t like anything else she’d seen.

It was locked by Darth Sidious, undoubtedly.

Except… she knew Imperial protocols. She knew codenames and passwords and secrets that didn’t even exist yet, making her the only one who knew of any possible passwords Sidious would have used.

The only one of two who might’ve known about them.

Mentally, as quickly as she could, she began checking off any codename that wasn’t made by the Emperor. It narrowed it down quickly, but there were still many things that could be used as a protocol name or password that kept certain clone information.

Accessing that information about every clone and the biochip in their head, when the consoles controlled any tech that involved the clones, including the chips, and linking it with the console that could deactivate the order was the only way she could think of to deactivate every clone chip.

She just needed to slice into the extremely guarded system with that information… or figure out how to get in with the password that she didn’t know. She was about to start typing in whatever she could, but she couldn’t bet on it having multiple attempts.

Her hands froze above the buttons.

Hesitantly, with the knowledge of which Sith helped enact order sixty-six directly, she reassessed her choice.

Ahsoka typed the simple name of Vader into the console.

The information about the functionality of the biochips was unlocked, and she didn’t waste a second flipping the switch.

The screen flashed red with warning signs, and she knew she'd done it.

For the first time during her entire time within the rebellion, she might have just made actual, major progress in defeating Sidious. Even more importantly, she'd just found the first key to saving the Jedi from destruction.

Behind her, the door was pushed in, and the room filled with blaster bolts.

Chapter Text

One blaster bolt hit the screen that Ahsoka had been typing at.

Another blaster bolt hit Maul’s lightsaber and reflected into her forearm.

A third blaster bolt went through Maul’s left shoulder.

Ahsoka couldn’t see anything as she deflected every bolt she could, unable to attempt to protect the clones’ lives at the moment. There wasn’t even enough time for her stomach to fill with dread at the thought of order sixty-six.

Her stomach didn’t have to fill with dread, because she might have just stopped order sixty-six from happening.

After what felt like a lifetime, she and Maul stepped into a hallway littered with dead or unconscious clones, and more could be heard coming. Both of their breaths were heavy, but both of them were fully aware. Whatever haziness had been in his mind earlier was gone, and everything felt clear to her with the knowledge of what she’d truly just done— even if she could hardly wrap her head around it.

Neither of them wasted any breath speaking as they ran down the hall in the direction of the ship. She could feel her adrenaline wearing off and the pain of her wounds setting in, but she’d handled much worse. She’d found bacta on the ship during her sweep of it, so it was only temporary.

They needed to get back to Coruscant.

She didn’t have a plan yet. What she did know, however, was that Sidious would be coming for her, one way or another. Unlike the future, she couldn’t run and hide in a ship now.

He couldn’t kill the Jedi in a second, which meant he was now the direct enemy. There were no more steps before defeating him that were more important, and he was the next step.

She didn’t have the slightest plausible idea of how to truly defeat him yet, but she had the long trip back to Coruscant to figure it out. Hopefully, she could.

The rain battered onto her skin as she ran out of the building, blaster bolts moving around her and Maul. They were both using the force to dodge them, but there was only so much they could do.

Her feet landed on metal, and the rain was blocked as the ramp shut. Moving on muscle memory from a thousand rushed takeoffs she ran to the cockpit and started the ship, pulling them up into stormy clouds before Maul could sit down. He nearly slid across the cockpit.

With only a second's hesitation after leaving the atmosphere, she punched in the nearly unfamiliar coordinates for Coruscant, and Kamino was left behind.

She relaxed.

Her back hit the seat, and she shut her eyes. She was soaked and shot, but she’d turned off the chips, and that was all that seemed to matter.

Maul muttered something under his breath, and when she looked over, his expression seemed lost.

“Maul?”

“It is nothing but a minor setback.”

She ignored him, “Are you okay?”

Angry eyes looked up, “Perhaps you should worry about yourself.”

She stared at him for a moment, clearly experiencing the same cloudiness in his mind that he had from Lotho Minor. She didn’t have the time or patience to worry herself to death over him, but she wasn’t fond of watching others suffer.

“Remember, we’re going to defeat Sidious.”

She didn’t know what had broken him out of his stupor in her future, but it had been something based on hatred. It couldn’t possibly be a good idea to attempt the same thing again, but she didn’t have much choice.

With a slight limp from the one-sided hole in her shin and an aching forearm, she walked out of the cockpit and found the medkit. It didn’t take her long to patch herself up, the bacta already soothing the pain. Once she’d finished, she slumped onto the floor and stared at the wall.

What came next?

Despite everything they’d done, particularly to her, her mind still turned to the Jedi Council. She didn’t even consider the Senate, considering Sidious led it. Padmé was an option, but she didn’t want to walk her into another death; she’d never forgive herself.

The Council couldn’t possibly trust her. She still recalled Yoda’s initial claim of whoever enacted the bombing had fallen to the dark side from the first time it happened. Now, they’d seen the assumed ‘Darth’ Maul break her out of prison, and that was about as big of a statement she could make.

They were flawed, not just in how they treated their people and went about things but as individuals. They didn’t look into the force that they preached over, and they wouldn't sense the lack of darkness in her. They wouldn’t even need to see her hatred of Sidious and make assumptions to label her as an agent of the dark side.

She couldn’t go to Anakin. He was too volatile, and his closeness with the Chancellor would only make it dangerous. She’d practically be pushing Anakin into Sidious’ open arms by doing that, just as the Council had done when they had him spy on the Chancellor.

Sidious wasn’t foolish enough to be led into a trap. She was willing to do whatever was necessary to beat him, including start a fight she couldn’t win, but if she were to do it in public, he’d play innocent and she’d become most wanted yet again. She wouldn’t be able to fight the dozens of Jedi who would come to Palpatine’s rescue.

If she weren’t to do it in public, though…

She relaxed without even having known she was tense, and let her legs drop from her chest. If they could return to Coruscant and get to her hideout, Sidious would undoubtedly follow. If she could set up an invisible holorecorder and get him to admit something incriminating, then even with her tarnished reputation, the people would have no choice but to believe it.

Even if almost no one trusted her, there would be those who couldn’t ignore what they saw; there always were. It was how the rebellion was formed.

She took a deep breath.

Everything had led up to this.

However, she couldn’t lead Maul into a battle that he didn’t know he likely wouldn’t walk out of. He escaped Sidious last time, and a large part of her believed that it was for the same reason she’d let him live on the Resolute. He was good at causing chaos.

She likely wouldn’t be walking out.

That was fine.

She traced the symbol that she’d made for Fulcrum onto the ground, smiling.

This is what they’d all hoped for. Every single person who had ever put a single ounce of effort into the rebellion had hoped that a chance like this would come one day, where they could definitively defeat the Empire. This was nothing like Ahsoka had ever imagined— she’d wished sometimes to go back in time, but it was an impossible child’s dream that had no bearing— but it was still what they’d hoped to come. No one had been able to imagine the final battles or how they’d play out.

It was what so many had died for. Ahsoka didn’t know all of their names, even when she’d been the one ordering them to their death. It was war and strategy, filled with quiet battles that the Empire hadn’t even known about for so long.

There was no Empire, not physically, but it was there. It was the force that threatened everything. It was what Sidious embodied, and she could only think of how much pain could be stopped once the Empire was demolished.

Even if she died, and even if Rex didn’t know to search for a camera or didn’t tell anyone else, there was one person who wouldn’t let her death go unnoticed. He could easily lose himself in the process, and that could mean the end, but she had hope that he’d be okay. The Jedi were there to support him, even if most of them didn’t even know what that meant. Padmé was still alive.

One way or another, she would destroy Sidious.

Maul was in the other room, wanting Sidious dead just as much as her, even if that want was more out of hatred than anything else. She liked to think that she had morals for what she’d asked people to do and that she’d never send anyone into a situation without them knowing it could end up in their death, but she had done exactly that multiple times. She didn’t want to do it again.

She hoisted herself up on a near-painless leg and looked into the lounge, finding him snacking on a ration pack at the table. He didn’t look at her as she entered, his gaze stuck on a wall.

She wondered if that was what she looked like when she lost herself, too.

“I have a plan for defeating Sidious.”

She sat across from him and raised her chin with the knowledge that, despite everything, she was still Fulcrum— no matter how much he acted like he was in control.

“Go on.”

“I’m going to fight him. I’m going to lure him to the safe house, which won’t be hard since I’ve messed up his plans, and I’m going to get proof of who he is.”

“How so?”

“I can’t tell you, because he can’t find out, otherwise it's all for nothing.”

“I thought we couldn’t beat him.”


“We can’t,” she watched his expression shift. “That’s why you don’t have to come. We’ll get proof, but I know we won’t walk out.”

A long moment of silence passed.

“How will anyone find this proof?”

“Rex, the clone who gave us coordinates. He knows the location, and he’ll find it.”

He sighed, leaning back as he threw his ration pack wrapper onto the floor.

“You may die, but I don’t plan on it.”

The confidence was misplaced, and she could feel that he didn’t entirely believe it, but she smiled. At least she wouldn’t be alone with a real Sith when she died.

“We’ll defeat him, one way or another.”

“Agreed.”

She looked down the hall and saw the swirl of hyperspace. She wondered how many times she’d looked at it.

Even from the lounge, it illuminated the floor and walls with a light blue tint, moving as the stars did. It was beautiful.

She still remembered her first time seeing it, from when she’d gone to Ilum. Just like the other younglings, she’d been amazed. She still was.

Rex stared at the news holo. Usually, he despised watching it, but General Skywalker had run through the halls several minutes prior and asked everyone in the vicinity where General Kenobi was.

For good reason, based on the news holo.

In the lower levels, out of the way of any civilians or important structures, a stolen ship had seemingly intentionally crashed; the same ship that had been reported stolen from a forgettable landing bay in the lower levels, which had landed outside of the Republic high-security prison, and had landed and left Jedha in the span of a few hours. Most recently, it had been reported on Kamino.

No one had actually seen the two beings escape out of it, but it was vacant, and they were gone.

Rex couldn’t imagine why Ahsoka would come back to Coruscant. Yet, if she left Kamino, she must have done it. She must have found a way to disable the biochips and save not just the Jedi, but all of his brothers. He almost couldn’t believe it.

Yet, that must put her even more sharply on Sidious’ radar, so why would she come to his home? He was almost tempted to go straight to the hideout, but they were all stationed on the Resolute even if departure was still delayed as General Skywalker ran about.

“I don’t get it anymore,” Fives said from beside him.

“She has a plan.”

“Maybe, but teaming up with a Sith?”

“So far it's worked out.”

“Clones died on Kamino! Our brothers!”

He couldn’t say anything to that. He didn’t feel good about it either, and he wanted Maul arrested immediately, but he marched his brothers onto the battlefield every day to fight an opponent that apparently wasn’t even the real threat. It didn’t make it right, and it didn’t evaporate the dread in his stomach, but there were things he had to live with during war. All over the galaxy, his brothers were dying, but maybe they wouldn’t lose their will. Maybe they wouldn’t kill their friends to serve a Sith Lord.

“I feel like we should tell someone,” Fives said.

“No. We can’t.”

“Why not? They’d treat her better! Have you seen what they’re saying about her? She’s not a Sith, and we know it!”

“Yeah, and she was very strict about why we couldn’t-“

Echo and Tup walked in, smiles on both of their faces.

“Woah, what’d we just walk in on?”

Rex sighed, “Talking about the Commander.”


Echo sighed, falling onto the couch beside Fives, “I don’t know what to say about that anymore.”

Fives flashed Rex a heated look, “Me neither.”

Tup shut off the holo, “Well, at least we’re finally leaving soon.”

“I’ve heard that before,” Echo laughed.

Rex didn’t share the sentiment.

“Really, why?”


“General Skywalker has been trying to find the Chancellor, but since he can’t, he’s out of things to do that stop us from leaving.”

Rex straightened, “What? Where’s the Chancellor?”

“Who knows? Probably doing Chancellor-type stuff.”

Ahsoka had returned.

Ahsoka had returned, and the Chancellor had disappeared. Ahsoka hadn’t only returned, but she’d also destroyed a major part of the plot the kill the Jedi. He couldn’t do it with a single order anymore, and that had to make a Sith Lord furious.

Force sensitives could sense where each other were, rendering her hideout useless.

“I think Ahsoka’s in danger,” Rex looked directly at Fives.

“What?” Echo asked immediately as Tup perked up.

Fives understood, “Why?”

“Can’t explain. Do you really think I should tell someone?”



“Rex? What do you know?” Tup asked.

“Can’t she handle herself?” Fives asked.

“Not against the one who did all of this.”

Fives didn’t know anything about Sidious, especially not who he was, but he knew enough.

“Find the Generals.”

Rex was up in an instant, ignoring Echo and Tup’s questions. He didn’t know how Fives would handle that, but he didn't care. Ahsoka had said repeatedly that she couldn’t beat Sidious, and if Maul wasn’t stronger than her, then neither could he.

Why had she returned knowing this? He had to trust that she had a plan and wasn’t flying blind, but he also knew that she’d said multiple times she couldn’t defeat Sidious on her own, and that was undoubtedly where Sidious was going. She’d been freaked out after merely seeing him at the senate event, but now she’d truly foiled his plan, and he couldn’t possibly be happy.

“General Skywalker! General Kenobi!”

He skidded into a command room, filled with clones at the sides as they prepared to leave. In the center, at the table, however, were both the Generals he needed. Cody was beside General Kenobi, and he looked irritated at the outburst. Rex felt guilty for not telling him anything, but perhaps that could come to an end soon.

There was no soon for them if they didn’t save Ahsoka’s life. She knew everything. Beyond that, she was his friend, his Commander, and the clueless Jedi Padawan whom the Jedi had forced into a war. She couldn’t die.

“Clear the room, other than the Generals, please.”

“What?” Cody asked.

“Rex?”

“Clear it! I have urgent information only for the Generals.”

The two in question eyed each other cautiously. After a moment, General Skywalker nodded.

“All right, everybody out!”

Most had already obeyed Rex’s initial order, but Cody remained. Rex gave him a look that could only ask him to trust him, and Cody walked out without another word. Rex shut all of the doors, reminded vaguely of when Ahsoka had first told him about the future.

“Rex, what’s happening?” General Kenobi asked.

“Ahsoka’s in trouble.”

“What?”

“How do you know?” Kenobi asked.

Rex set his helmet on the holotable before him, taking a deep breath.

“Do you remember when she passed out in the field just over a month ago?”

“Yes…”

“Yes, but, what does that have to do with anything?”

This could either go really well or really badly. For Ahsoka’s sake, and the wider galaxy at large, he needed it to go well.

“When she woke up, she was different. I’m sure you’ve noticed,” General Skywalker nodded frivolously. “It’s because she’s from the future.”

General Kenobi looked at Skywalker, but the latter was still staring at Rex. His eyes weren’t wide, but he seemed shocked. When neither of them spoke, Rex continued.

“Her future is bad. Worse than losing the war. I don’t know everything, but I know that Darth Sidious, the Sith orchestrating this entire war, is after her right now. She just stopped him from killing every Jedi with a single order. She’s told me she couldn’t beat him, and that’s why she didn’t tell anyone else, but I’m worried she is going to die if we don’t do something!”

Everything seemed hard for them to believe, but the thought of her dying was enough for General Skywalker to snap into place.

“Where is she? How do you know?”

“Anakin, wait. Rex, how do you know this?”

“She told me. I believed her because, before you got there when she passed out, she slaughtered thirteen droids with a move neither of you could even pull off.”

“Are you sure it's her?" General Kenobi asked.

Rex hit his hand on the table on impulse.

“Yes, I’m sure! She’s older, but she’s still Ahsoka Tano. Your Padawan, your youngling, and she knows how to stop this war and save the galaxy because she lived through the opposite! She’s been fighting for her entire life, and now she’s going to die if we don’t act fast!”

General Skywalker slammed his own hands on the table, “Where is she?”

“She has a hideout in the lower levels of Coruscant, I can take you there.”


“Wait,” General Kenobi said, his face pained.

“Obi-Wan-“

“Who is Darth Sidious?”

He couldn’t stop his eyes from darting to General Skywalker. He was close with the Chancellor, a fact that Ahsoka undoubtedly knew. There was no doubt that it was why she hadn’t mentioned his fate. Even if she left the Order, they’d had a bond, and his death couldn’t have been easy.

“You won’t believe me, and we don’t have time to waste.”

“Rex,” General Skywalker said, “Nothing will stop me from saving Ahsoka, and I don’t need to believe this insane story entirely to try. One way or another, she’s in trouble. But, if he’s who you claim, we have to know.”

General Kenobi had the gall to look proud.

“The Chancellor.”

“That’s impossible.”

“Rex, I don’t think that’s Ahsoka,” General Kenobi said.


“I don’t care what either of you thinks,” he picked up his helmet. “I’m not letting her die, but I know I won’t be able to add anything to this fight. We can all die, or you can set aside the flaws that got the Jedi killed in her time and try or save her.”

He put his helmet on and checked his blasters at his side. For a short second, he lingered, looking at the bewildered looks on his Generals’ faces. Maybe he was losing it, going so far into insubordination, but he wouldn’t let a friend die.

Ahsoka had talked about the rebels, and he didn’t have a doubt in his mind that he joined them in the future. So, really, he was just carrying out their namesake.

“Perhaps we should go to Oba Diah next.”

Ahsoka paused from where she’d been digging through her secret compartment in her hideout. She’d clicked her comm back onto her sleeve and dumped the initial lightsaber components, no longer needing them. It would’ve been useful if she’d had them on Jedha, but she was happy with her lightsabers.

She wasn’t sure if Maul was speaking with unusual false optimism or if he truly intended on going to the crime world. Either way, she shouldn’t have been surprised.

“It wouldn’t be my first time seeing you there,” she said absentmindedly, feeling around in the force as if Sidious would let anyone sense him coming.

“I could build… something.”

“Oh, I bet.”

“What do you suggest, then, Lady Tano?” he sneered.

“Mandalore?” he’d gone there, too. “You did suggest Dathomir.”

“They’d hardly let you survive on the planet.”


She looked blankly at him from where she sat crouched on the ground. He was stretched across the disgusting couch, perfectly comfortable despite the circumstances.

She’d already set up everything she needed to.

“Thanks,” her voice was intentionally flat.

“It’s not as if the Jedi want you, either.”

“Well, it’s not like the Sith want you.”


“And I don’t want them.”

That wasn’t entirely true, not yet, and she knew it. All that mattered for the moment was that he was against Sidious.

A terribly dark shadow crept over her skin, raising goosebumps and sending a chill throughout her. She’d felt darkness, but this was nothing like it. It wasn’t like an Inquisitor or Maul or even Vader.

Somehow, it was worse.

There was no conflict or deep-seated pain that came from caring too much. There wasn’t the pure and uncontrolled anger of Maul. Not even the agony of the Inquisitors.

He was simply… Darkness.

Maul was up in a second and beside her, his lightsaber already in his hand.

A hooded figure jumped in. He was hooded, and two lightsabers were in his hands, but it was Darth Sidious.

Ahsoka pulled out her sabers.

She despised him in every imaginable way, but she wasn’t doing this for herself.

A horrible feeling had worked its way across her skin. This was the man who destroyed the galaxy. He sat atop a throne in the Jedi Temple all of that time when the rebellion was fighting to undo his mess. He destroyed everything, and she couldn’t allow him to do it again.

“Ahsoka Tano,” Darth Sidious drawled, “And… Maul.”

Maul snarled.

“I am surprised to see you survived.”

She could feel the pang of emotion from Maul at the praise and begged he’d see through it.


“It's unfortunate you’ve done the same,” she said for Maul.

His hooded head turned back to her. Seeing his face, the Chancellor’s face, in such a pure evil state was startling. It would have been terrifying if she hadn’t known for years that he had always been this way, even if everyone missed it.

“Ahsoka Tano,” he repeated. “You were such a wonderful Padawan.”

“Would you like to see what I can do when I'm not a Padawan?”

She was bluffing, but it didn’t matter. She knew she couldn’t beat him, but the others could. She trusted them.

“If you tell me where you discovered your information, perhaps your death will be painless.”

She ignited her lightsabers and fell into a battle stance, spinning them once so that they were reversed in her grip. Maul glanced at her, clearly ready to leap.

“Then I suppose it’s a good thing I never expected my death to be painless.”


Sidious raised his chin, clearly prepared to say something else. It was likely going to be a statement of how she’d die or something of the like. She’d heard it all before. Before he could speak, however, Maul shouted and jumped at his former Master.

She couldn’t exactly blame him.

Sidious’ lightsabers were ignited in a heartbeat, and she dove in at his other side immediately.

There was anger, power, the strain of her left saber on the ground. The hatred oozing from every ounce of Sidious. This was the Sith that destroyed the galaxy, the man who took everything she'd known and burnt it to the ground. He built himself an Empire with nothing but pawns. He was the face of inconceivable power, and perhaps once she’d have been afraid to look it in the eyes.

Yet, she was also Fulcrum, and she’d built a rebellion to rival that Empire. She’d made dents in their careful layering, and she knew they would have gone further. She’d been such a key risk of his initial plan in her past that he’d coerced Barriss into framing her.

Even in the small space, both she and Maul leaped upwards, striking against Sidious at the same time. With his dual lightsabers, Sidious blocked them both, cackling as he did.

Ahsoka wondered what Rex— future Rex— would’ve said to this.

Or Bail.

Or the Ghost Crew.

She spun away from him, crouching to strike at his legs. He jumped upwards and attacked Maul in the same beat.

The dual strength of speed and power was more intense than anything she’d ever faced. Over time, she’d honed her speed to be her biggest strength, and it was the only reason she could keep up.

She barely blocked a strike to her arm and then dodged a swipe at her neck, then accidentally kicked Maul as Sidious moved just in time for Maul to nearly strike her. As they both took half a second too long to collect their bearings, Sidious struck Maul’s mechanic leg, effectively knocking him onto the ground.

With his focus on Maul, she attempted a final blow that had ended dozens of battles, but he managed to block it while still attacking Maul. His leg had effectively fallen apart, and he was leaning on the now broken couch. There was a permanent scowl on his face as he dodged blows with sloppiness, as all Ahsoka could do was keep one of Sidious’ lightsabers occupied.

She recalled that they were never supposed to win.

She’d be damned if she didn’t try, though. Rex— both of them— would be furious.

With a growl of her own, she hopped in front of Maul, stealing all of Sidious’ attention. She couldn’t match him blow for blow, but she could keep up, and that was enough. Within seconds she was pushed against the other wall, the small space proving difficult, but she simply ducked beneath his lightsabers and hopped backward when she stumbled at an unexpected blow.

Sidious struck at her on one side and knocked Maul backward into the wall on the other. Maul had tried some sort of attack that she couldn’t focus on, and it had ended with him unconscious on the ground.

For a short moment, as he’d been thrown across the room, they made eye contact, nothing but determination in his gaze. She took the moment to steal Sidious’ idea and used the force to push him backward.

Sidious only cackled as his feet skidded across the floor like a leaf. She ran forward, pushing as much strength as she could into her attack.

This time, she was flung across the room, but she heard his lightsabers clatter to the ground. A part of her screamed with foolish rebel hope at the thought that she’d actually made a dent.

When, instead, before she could even get all the way to her feet, she saw spirals of lightning that she’d only ever read about coming her way.

Her uneven white lightsabers were in her hands in an instant, only raising and igniting just in time to block the lightning before it could hit her face. The immediate darkness that crackled as it made contact with her blades was gut-wrenching, but she didn’t flinch. She was in a poor excuse for a lunge, with one foot forward and the other on the ground and trying to give herself as much stability as possible.

Her lightsabers were crossed before her, but the lightning was strong, and Sidious’ cackles only felt like flame for the fire that was the dark side.

She wasn’t scared to die, but she was sad.

For the first time, she truly realized that she wanted to see the end. She wanted to see the Empire fall. She wanted to see the smiles on everyone's faces, the absolute joy that came with defeating an evil that powerful. She wanted to feel the light truly return to the force, even brighter than it felt in this past galaxy.

She wanted to see her friends.

She wanted to see Anakin again, she wanted to tell him she was truly sorry, and she wanted to help him heal. She wanted to sit down and talk with Padmé and truly talk with her for as long as either of them wanted. She wanted to have a conversation with Obi-Wan about all of the things she knew they’d both enjoy discussing.

None of that mattered in the face of fighting evil, or when Sith lightning was against her lightsabers.

Her wrists felt like mush and her eyes stung. The darkness had never been so powerful, and the weight of it clouded the room.

She’d see it all from the force, at least.

With her lightsabers crossed before her, she made one last effort to push the lightning back instead of merely deflecting it into the wall, readjusting her sabers to point toward Sidious. His cackling morphed into some sort of cry, but it didn’t stop the endless pursuit.

Against her will, her wrists gave out, and her lightsabers fell. The lightning hit her, and for a short second, there was no pain.

Then, the world began to burn.

She couldn’t process a thought.

She saw faces, amidst the pain, but she couldn’t process who they were.

She might have yelled out.

It was red hot agony, and the only thing she could process was that everything hurt. It hurt with the darkness of a thousand Sith. Agony both in physicality and mentality, a horrible sendoff into the dark side of the force.

She wanted it to end.

It didn’t.

Until, it did.

It turned into a slow dwindle. The pain, the flaming agony, was still there. The dark side was rampant. Yet, she could breathe again, and only one thought could make its way through her mind.

She survived?

Once again, she’d survived.

Something touched her back, and the agony increased. She heard her groan like a drum in her ears, the affliction growing even as it slowed. The pain wasn’t coming anymore.

The lightning had stopped?

She heard something that might have been her name, but it was from a ghost, and she’d heard those before.

“I need to tell the rebellion,” she attempted to say, but the words came out different to her own ears.

“Ahsoka, I told them everything.”

She attempted to blink her eyes open, but the light hurt, and she swore she still saw white.

“Ahsoka?” the ghost of Obi-Wan said from right beside her.

“The rebellion,” she wasn’t sure what she’d been trying to say, but she had to tell them.

“It’s okay, my Padawan, you’re alive,” Obi-Wan’s ghost said.

She was alive.

And so was he.

She forced her eyes to open properly, and suddenly the world exploded with noise. She could hear cackles and shouts. She could feel pain and betrayal and the same darkness she’d felt from-

In front of her, Anakin had pushed Sidious onto the ground. Sidious was cackling. They both knew what was about to happen, and what would happen to Anakin.

What would happen to Vader.

She attempted to push herself up on weak, pained arms and knees. Before they could give out, Obi-Wan was at her side, holding her arm up.

“Anakin!” her voice was weak.

No one listened to her. How was Obi-Wan letting this happen?

“He can’t,” she tried to say, the words too big for her mouth.

“It’ll be okay.”

“No,” she attempted to raise herself, her palm clasped in Obi-Wan’s. “Anakin! Stop!”

Blue eyes met her own, angry and hot. Blue eyes that she might never see again.

“He was going to kill you!”

It may have been a trick from her own ears, but he sounded like Vader.

Sidious was still cackling.

“You can’t!” everything hurt. “It’s a Sith’s fate to kill their Master!”

The cackling stopped. The white-hot lightning in the room stopped. The blue lightsaber that had once been lost to time stopped.

Three familiar faces looked at her in shock and horror.

Suddenly, what Rex had said registered in her head. He’d told them everything.

They all knew what she knew. They all knew what she meant, and why she’d said it.

Sidious, however, had not looked at her. He’d only seen the distraction. He’d been pinned, but now Anakin was distracted, and he leaped up in an instant. Even Anakin Skywalker wasn’t fast enough to stop him.

For the second time, white-hot pain went everywhere, and everyone dropped.

It stopped quickly.

Before she could even open her eyes or form a thought, she was pushing herself up. Every movement burned, but she didn’t care. Sidious was gone. Sidious was out there. Sidious was a threat.

He was going to do it again.

“Ahsoka,” Obi-Wan said, grabbing her arm. He was already standing, less injured than her but clearly in pain.

“We have to stop him,” she said heavily.

Once again, Obi-Wan helped her up, where she looked around the room. Her vision was blurry and strained, but she blinked as much of it away as she could.

“You need medical.”

“Ahsoka,” Anakin said, leaning on the couch. He looked devastated. “What?”

She knew what he meant. He wanted to know why she’d essentially called him a Sith.

It didn’t matter, though, because Sidious was gone.

“That’s not important,” she snapped. “He’s out there. He’s going to do it again. We have to stop him.”

“You’re really from the future?” Obi-Wan asked quietly.

She looked at Rex, who didn’t look the least bit apologetic. He had just saved her life.

“Yes, and that experience taught me enough to know we can’t waste time. He’s… he’s going to go to the Senate. I disabled the chips, so he can’t kill the Jedi, but he’s still the Chancellor.”

“Ahsoka,” Anakin’s voice was heavy with more questions.

“We can talk later. We have to go.”

Stubbornly, she let go of Obi-Wan’s hand, nearly falling forward. Everyone was pained and sore, but she’d been through more of that lightning than she knew, and her bones felt like liquid.

“We can’t just-“

“Anakin. There is no time.“

“No, no, what did you mean-"

“Listen to her,” Rex said.

“Anakin, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about me or that the Chancellor is a Sith Lord. But, right now, none of that will matter. The Jedi will die and the Republic will fall and we will watch it all burn if we don't act now!”

Anakin stopped speaking.

“What do we do?” Obi-Wan asked.

“You and Anakin go to the Senate. I’m sure that’s where he’s going. They love the Chancellor, but they also love Anakin Skywalker and Obi-Wan Kenobi. There's a holorecorder in the wall,” she extended her hand with an incredibly painful usage of the force and lifted it out, letting it fall lightly onto the ground. “With everything that just happened, and everything he said. He’s probably got some plan, even if he can’t use the clones, so he’s going to be at the Senate. So you have to move now and get there first!”

She wavered slightly, and suddenly Rex was at her side, leaning on her just as much as she was on him.

Anakin and Obi-Wan gave each other a familiar look.

“What will you do?” Anakin’s voice was still tight.

She looked across the room at where Maul lay unconscious.

The Senate wasn’t the only party that they needed to convince of the Chancellor’s truth.

“The Jedi Council. I’ll wake him up first. Go, now, that’s an order.”

She didn’t get to order Anakin and Obi-Wan around, but she didn’t care. The fate of the galaxy was hanging in the balance, and last time all she’d done was stand around and fight for her own life. Now, she wanted to see the galaxy heal.

She couldn’t watch it burn again.

“Stay safe, and we’ll talk later,” Anakin promised.

“You too,” she paused. “Don’t say anything about where I’m from. He can’t find out.”

Anakin looked reluctant, but Obi-Wan clearly understood. They both nodded and left through the small door, the same one Sidious had just disappeared through.

In the sudden near-emptiness of the room, as she turned to move toward Maul, she stumbled. The couch caught her, and for a short second, she lingered on the ripped fabric.

“You told them.”

“Yeah, and I’m not sorry. What were you thinking?”


“That we had to beat him, and if I could get holo proof, you’d find it in here.”

“You knew you couldn’t fight him.”

She looked at him and began to push herself up.

“It’s what I do. We don’t have time to waste.”

He stared at her with far too much worry for her to focus on.

She attempted to kneel beside Maul, but her ankles gave out and she ended up on her shins. She tapped at his harm persistently.

His leg was still damaged.

“Maul.”

Nothing.

He was alive, she could tell that much.

“Maul. Sidious is getting away.”

Of course, that was what woke him up.

“No,” he murmured, just as hazy as she’d been moments ago. The world was still quite fuzzy, but she was forcing it away with pure determination.

He turned over, slowly sitting up. Rex was still hanging back, untrusting of the former Sith.

He sat up, much quicker than he should have.

“You lost.”

“Not yet,” she pushed herself up with a struggle. "He got away, but I know where he’s going.”

He took her extended hand and pulled himself up on only one stable leg. That wouldn’t be too big of a problem, not with the metal pieces laying in the corner of the room.

“Are we… and him,” he looked at Rex condescendingly, “following?”

“No. I’m going to the Jedi Council to tell them. I figure you aren’t coming with.”

“Absolutely not. Where’s Sidious going?”

“The Senate.”

It occurred to her that they were lucky Maul had been unconscious the entire time Obi-Wan was there.

“I’d say I’m going there, but,” he gestured to his leg, clearly angry with the situation.

“I can fix that. We just… Rex, can you find a speeder car?”

“Down here?”

“Yes, as quick as possible.”

He looked reluctantly at the two of them and nodded, running to the door and pulling himself up to the floor. She grabbed the metal pieces and tools that she’d pulled out of her secret hole in the wall and fell back onto the floor beside Maul.

“How did he get here? How did you survive?”

“Jedi.”

He opened his mouth to ask a question, but she shook her head.

“You don’t seem to be faring any better than me,” he motioned at her arms, where she’d begun attempting to fix his robotic leg.

For the first time, she looked at her hands and wrists.

There were white lines carrying halfway up her forearm, forming winding stripes that would have reminded her of her lekku if they didn’t feel… wrong. It was from the lightning.

Maul shut up when he realized she hadn’t seen them before, and she focused on fixing his leg enough to fight. The force felt askew, with darkness that had been concealed before now released in her quiet hideout in the lower levels of Coruscant. She wondered if the Jedi felt it from the Temple, or if they were too blind to see even that.

It wasn’t long until a stolen speeder car appeared outside. She collected the tools necessary and walked out of the now useless hideout. There was nothing else for her to grab. Maul couldn’t walk properly yet, but he could limp his way out. They both hopped into the back of the speeder.

“Where to?” Rex asked.

“Drop Maul off at the Senate.”

Rex didn’t look at Maul, which was probably for the best. They weren’t going to get along, so it was best if they didn’t try.

She’d fixed more complex things in less time, so Maul’s leg wasn’t a problem. It wouldn’t work perfectly, and it wouldn’t hold if he smashed it into something, but he’d be fine. He was essentially going on a suicide mission, anyway. Even if Sidious didn’t kill him, he’d be in the heart of the Republic. As long as he didn’t destroy his leg, she was sure he’d find a way off-world and to Oba Diah, where he could start his life in the crime business.

“What’s the plan once we get to the Council, Commander?” Rex asked, driving up through the levels like the galaxy depended on it— it did.

“I try my best to convince them and try to knock some sense into them.”

“And if that doesn’t work? Since they think you’re a dark-side turned fugitive, and all?”

“I’m hoping that they still have some piece of sense in them that can let them see what I tell them to be true.”

“Hope?” Maul snorted, pulling his newly repaired leg back.

She’d never been one to spout rebellion phrases; she knew that, in reality, a rebellion needed more than hope.

Yet, she looked at him with as toothy a smile as she could manage in the scenario, “Rebellions are built on hope.”

Maul scoffed.

Rex arrived at a platform beside the Senate building, and Maul hopped out.

“Good luck,” she said.

“I don’t need your luck,” he said with a sneer, before glancing back. "You need it far more than me.”


She hopped into the seat beside Rex, and they were off in seconds. Truthfully, she didn’t know what would happen if she couldn’t convince the Council.

They wouldn’t all die within seconds to the clones, but she knew Sidious could still do treacherous things with the power he'd acquired.

Could Master Yoda beat Sidious? She genuinely wasn’t sure. If he couldn’t, then it was unclear as to who could. He couldn’t be kept alive, but one of the only people whom she knew was strong enough to kill him couldn’t kill him. He’d lose himself in the process.

She moved her leg, preparing to pull herself up to jump out of the speeder car as they neared the Temple. Her foot hit something discarded in the speeder car. It wasn’t surprising, considering that Rex had stolen it, but her movements paused as she realized what it was.

Without Rex noticing as he weaved through traffic, she reached down and picked up the small unarmed explosive. She tucked it into her small pocket.

In front of them, the Temple appeared.

Chapter Text

Ahsoka didn’t want to go into the Jedi Temple. She didn’t want to walk in front of the Council and watch them immediately see her as a threat.

She didn’t have much choice.

She hopped out of the speeder before it had fully stopped, Rex doing the same. It wasn't even parked, and it likely wouldn’t be there when they returned, but there were other speeders. Neither of them spoke as she took off toward the Temple, Rex keeping up with her fine.

The stairs exhausted her faster than they should have, but she didn’t take a moment to catch her breath. She couldn’t. With loud breaths and even louder footsteps, she and Rex ran into the actual building, the halls engulfing them. She could still feel the raw darkness of Darth Sidious, even in the Temple. It may have decreased slightly, but that didn’t mean much.

“Ahsoka?” a soft voice said, startled and somewhat scared. She didn’t have time to respond as she ran past Barriss.

Despite everything, she still knew how to get to the Council room, and she barged through the doors without a second to waste. Rex was beside her, looking less intimidated than she felt.

Almost the entire Council was there, excluding Shaak Ti and Obi-Wan. Master Mundi was a holo.

Immediately, all of them stood up. Most of them ignited their lightsabers. She left hers at her side and raised her arms up.

“The Sith Lord, Darth Sidious, is Chancellor Palpatine,” she said boldly, making her intentions clear.

Two of them lost their battle stances. The rest of them tensed. Master Yoda, who hadn’t stood but was alarmed, rose to his feet. He cocked his head to the side, and she took it as a cue to explain further.

The other Masters didn't have the same idea, “You cannot come in here after committing treason and spew such-“

“Mentally, I am from the future. I have been for a few weeks. The proof is in the force, which all of you have neglected. Don’t let Sidious destroy the galaxy, as I’ve seen him do once before.”

They all looked at each other.

“Proof, do you have?”

The dead child in her wanted nothing more than to scream.

“Look in the force! Feel! Like you taught me and so many others to do, sense, and you’ll see that I have not used the dark side in my life and that I’m not Padawan Ahsoka Tano! I have not been a Jedi for almost twenty years! I accused Barriss of the bombing because, in my time, Sidious had her do it, and I was foolish enough to assume it would be the same!”

She felt a pang of what wasn’t quite belief, but sympathy. It was from Master Plo. She could see him putting the pieces of what she’d said together.

A few of them were clearly prying at her being with the force.

“I went to Kamino because there was a plot to kill the Jedi. In my time, it was successful, and I lived in a galaxy of darkness and evil. The plot was through the clones, and I disabled the biochips in their heads that could force them to kill the Jedi. That doesn't change that he can still destroy everything you know. Don’t get lazy, don’t think the Sith are gone. This is the end, and my best guess is that he’s at the Senate right now, where he’s about to pronounce the Jedi an enemy of his new Empire.”

She wasn’t sure if she’d said too much. This was the moment, and every furious thought she’d had about Sidious was coming out. Every ounce of pain that the Jedi had caused her was on display.

Hopefully, the Council could look past it to feel the absence of darkness within her.

Master Windu unignited his lightsaber, although he was still on guard, “He has long overstayed his term.”

“Claim he is Count Dooku’s Master, you do?”

“Yes,” she said, finally taking a real breath.

“How can you explain your alliance with known Sith, Darth Maul?” Master Mundi asked.

Her expression hardened, “When I’ve spent half my life fighting the galaxy-wide militaristic government ruled by a Sith, I’ve learned that sometimes the enemy of my enemy is my friend. You didn’t teach me it, but you were all dead, so I improvised.”

Even Rex seemed stunned by the bluntness of the statement. If she wasn’t in extreme pain and aware that this was the end, one way or another, she might have taken it slower. She was blunt, but perhaps she could’ve kept her emotions from getting the best of her and kept herself from raising her voice. Fulcrum didn’t raise her voice, and she certainly didn't lose control like that.

They all looked at each other, and she knew what was coming next.

“Give the Council some time-“

“Are you serious?” Rex shouted, stepping beside her. “Darth Sidious, the Sith Lord who you have sworn to defeat, is out there right now! There is no time for you to decide! It’s either he finds a way to kill the Jedi and win, or we act now.”

She gave Rex the most appreciative smile she could considering the situation.

Once again, the Council looked at each other.

“I’m going to find him. But, Masters, I want this to be your lesson. When we win this, and when you live, I want you to reevaluate everything. What happened is only the fault of Sidious, but it was your complacency and laziness that allowed him to rise. If you’d simply used the force, you’d have felt the darkness in the galaxy and in him. Just like if you’d felt in the force, you’d have known I would never bomb the Jedi Temple.”

She didn’t wait for a reply. By the time she’d finished speaking, she had already looked away from their expressions. The doors shut behind Rex and her. They paused, took a breath, and started running again. Time wasn’t on their side.

It was only once they got into the speeder and were on their way to the Senate that Rex spoke.

“You’ll survive this, too.”

“There are no guarantees in war.”

“You can make the guarantee, Ahsoka.”

She sighed.

“We’ll all do our best.”

He pulled beside the senate building, and at the sight of the guards, onto the platform. The speeder screamed against the pavement, but it gave them both a chance to run into the dome. No one was in the halls.

Only once they got inside did Ahsoka realize Rex had pulled up on the side of Padmé’s office, and therefore near her senate pod. She was thankful. The guards raised blasters at them before they could get in, but Rex stunned them, and that was it.

Ahsoka’s steps paused.

In the center of the Galactic Senate Chamber was Darth Sidious. He was cloaked, his skin slightly wrinkled from what she assumed was her deflection of his lightning. He was speaking about an attack.

She’d seen this before.

Ahsoka had spent her entire life in a war, and she willed herself to move.

She’d watched this speech countless times in a holo. She’d watched him declare the rise of the Empire. She’d seen the blurry outline of Bail and Padmé. She’d seen the end of it all.

She couldn’t watch it again.

She took out her lightsabers and nearly started to run forward toward Sidious, but a speck of red stopped her.

Somehow, Maul stole her move. In the center of the Senate, with the entire galaxy watching, he attacked the Chancellor.

“Ahsoka,” Rex whispered, motioning to the guards coming to the doorway.

She ignited a lightsaber and disabled the door locks, before running to Padmé’s pod. Unsurprisingly, Anakin and Obi-Wan were with her.

Padmé was the first to see Rex and her.

“Ahsoka?” she said, shocked but quiet. Anakin had undoubtedly told her what happened and Ahsoka’s story.

Anakin and Obi-Wan turned around.

“Ahsoka,” Anakin said, his voice dosed with relief.


Obi-Wan glanced over nervously, “The Council?”

“Believed me enough, but were too slow to act.”

“He was just-“

“About to announce the Galactic Empire,” she finished, her voice hollower than she’d have liked. “I know.”

Sidious’ response to Maul’s attack wasn’t to pull out his own sabers, which wasn’t surprising. Instead, he lowered his podium and disappeared from sight, likely to what lay beneath. She was almost sure that it was Sidious’ office.

“How can we fix this?” Padmé asked.

“Survive.”

For the first time, Ahsoka watched as Padmé was visibly taken aback.

“I wasn’t sure what to do, considering what you said before-“ Anakin started, frustrated and panicked.

“Anakin. Don’t do anything. I’ve got this. Instead of focusing on fighting, protect.”

She pulled out her lightsabers and ignited them, bright white illuminating their pod. Anakin’s eyes stuck on her sabers, but she didn’t have time to comment on it. The surrounding Senators had recognized her; in their eyes, she was a criminal. It wasn’t a comforting role to be seen as, but she wasn’t accustomed to being comfortable. It gave her flexibility to act however was necessary, and that was what she’d do.

“Keep everyone safe,” she said, not to anyone specifically.

She leaped down and onto the Chancellor’s platform. It had nearly finished lowering into the floor, and just as she’d suspected, she could see space beneath it. Before it could fully close in, she hopped over the side of the pod and slipped into the small gap in the floor.

She got down just in time to see Maul thrown out of the large window. He’d survive; he always did.

Ahsoka was met with the face of Mas Amedda. She took the care of throwing him into the wall herself, staring at Sidious.

“You’ve also come to die?” Darth Sidious said, his voice mocking.

Even in the roar of darkness, she felt a hint of expectation. The expectation that Anakin would be there, and that he could turn him. If he could turn Anakin, then he could do anything.

She’d make sure it didn’t happen.

“No, I’ve come to finish this.”

His voice went cold; the familiar voice of the Emperor, “Then so be it.”

This time, she foresaw the Sith lightning and moved aside before it could even hit her lightsabers. There was much more space now, giving her room to move and truly fight to the best of her ability. All of her pain had become nothing but background noise, a minor distraction that she could beat overall.

Their lightsabers crashed against each other, and just as he tried to push hers back, she jumped upwards. Before she even landed she struck at him. It didn’t work, but she blocked one of his blows in the process.

The battle was built upon years and years of experience, and this time, she didn’t intend on losing. She was not a sacrifice for the greater cause to continue. She’d built it up, and she’d end it.

Even if she still was a sacrifice.

Despite her advantage in the newfound space, she was still losing against Sidious. His blows were strong and quick, and she couldn’t possibly keep up.

After she flipped to avoid a blow and landed only to find herself moving out of the way of rapidly moving sabers again, she attempted to strike again as offense, only to find an absence of her saber.

An absence of a hand to hold her left saber with, at all. She didn't look at it.

It wasn’t hard for Sidious to get her down after that. She found herself on the ground against the shattered window sill. She grabbed her fallen lightsaber with the force and clipped them both to her belt.

There was a lightsaber at her throat.

Slowly, she reached her right hand into her pocket and switched on the small thermal detonator.

“Ahsoka Tano, where did you get the information?”

She smiled.

“Your plan failed.”

Unfortunately, they both felt the heavy strength in the force barge into the room. Sidious didn’t look away from her, victory sparking in his eyes. She did look at Anakin, however.

Sidious cackled.

Frantically, sensing the darkness in Anakin, she pulled out the thermal detonator and turned the increasing blinking light toward him. She grabbed at him with the force with every fiber of her being, begging him to see her plan.

She could still see him pulling out his lightsaber.

“Let her go,” he said between grit teeth, his voice almost mechanical.

“Now,” Sidious said to her simply, “you will die.”

Anakin ignited his lightsaber, and she screamed at him through the force to look.

He ran over, right into the blast zone.

“No, we’ll both die,” she said to Sidious, her voice more frantic than it should have been.

Just as the beeping sped up enough to be audible, his smile dropped.

“Ahsoka!”

Ahsoka grabbed Sidious with the force, tugging him towards the explosion, and shut her own eyes.

Everything was for the betterment of the galaxy.

So that the Ghost Crew would never have to form, and they could all live lives with their original families. So that no one would be hurt. So that Padmé could live. The Jedi could survive and fix their ways.

She was content with that.

The explosion didn’t swallow her, though.

In a sudden blur of events, she felt flames on her back and the wind moving over her, along with the solid arms of her former Master. When she opened her eyes, all she could see was a bright explosion at the bottom of the Senate building.

Sidious had been in the center.

He was dead.

Anakin landed on a nearby rooftop with a fall, and she clattered onto her back on the pavement.

The darkness in the force dissolved.

Ahsoka stared at a starless sky, her pain invisible in the midst of everything.

The Emperor was dead.

The Empire was gone.

The Jedi lived.

They’d won.

The force was alive with light that she’d never felt in her lifetime. It made the darkness she’d lived through in the future seem like the worst life possible, and, that was what it had been.

They’d won.

“Ahsoka!”

Two arms clutched her shoulders, pulling her up fast enough to make her dizzy.

“Ahsoka, are you okay?”

She stared into the blue eyes of Anakin Skywalker.

“We won.”

He looked back at the explosion, his emotions swelling around her.

“Padmé’s okay,” she said, her voice thick. “So is Obi-Wan and everyone else. Sidious is gone.”

For a moment, doubt lingered on his face, but he could surely feel it to be true. All of his attention centered back on her.

“Are you okay?”

He looked at the spot where her hand should have been; he’d been through it, too.

“I’ve been through worse.”

That wasn’t true, not this time, but he didn’t have to know that.

She curled her hand around his forearm to push herself up.

“What are you doing-“

“I have to go.”

“No, you can’t. We- I don’t know what’s happening. You’ll be okay here. We need your help. I need your help, Ahsoka.”

She laughed, the sound bland to her own ears.

“I just killed the Chancellor. I won’t be okay here.”

His frantic expression fell into one of understanding, but not acceptance.

“Because you killed Sidious, or because… of everything?”

“I’ll see you again, Anakin, but please. Let me go for now.”

He shook his head, “You’ll be back… you promise?”

“I promise. Just like I promise that you’ll be okay."

He held her up, keeping her from falling. She needed to find a hangar to steal a ship out of.

She wasn’t walking away from him, not again. He was letting her go. She wasn’t leaving through pain or betrayal. Despite all of the confusion, he knew that. She couldn’t stay. Other than the fact that she’d killed the Chancellor, she didn’t want to remain there, anyway. She was out of time, and she needed to get away from the ghosts surrounding her. She wasn’t abandoning them, and she’d be back; it was in her nature to help. Nevertheless, all she knew at that moment was that she had to go.

“How?”

He was usually the Master who helped her, but the roles had changed.

“You saved me instead of killing Sidious. That’s all I needed to see. Trust in the light side of the force, trust in others around you, and you’ll be okay. Accept help. You are not alone, and you don’t have to be. I’ll see you again.”

She let go of him and, miraculously, didn’t collapse.

“Will you be okay?”

“I’ve handled worse.”

“Come back.”

“I will.”

“What about-“

“Anakin,” she opened her mouth, ready to leave, and closed it again. “I’m sorry… for more than you know. Goodbye, for now.”

He looked saddened, but it wasn’t the same look she’d turned away from when she left the Jedi. Nor was it the scarred face with yellow eyes that had been below Vader’s mask. She was leaving him beyond confused, but he understood. He was Anakin Skywalker, and he was a good man, and he understood why she had to go— even if she didn't fully know the reason herself.

With every ounce of strength left, she hopped off of the roof. She found a ship, using nothing but past memories to maneuver her way through Coruscant and the takeoff process.

She set coordinates for one of her future checkpoints and sank to the floor, clutching several bacta packs she’d found.

Sitting in the cockpit of a stolen ship, Ahsoka Tano felt a tear slip down her numb cheek. She felt no pain, not yet. The galaxy had been saved. Darth Sidious was dead, and Anakin Skywalker lived. Everyone she’d held dear had lived.

Everyone who died in the future would have a chance to live. Those who had suffered could be happy.

There was nothing more important than that.

Alone in her ship, Ahsoka cried harder than she had in years. She mourned for everyone who was lost, and for herself. Simultaneously, she cried out of joy, for the suffering could stop.

The war was won.

The Empire had fallen.

Chapter Text

One Year Later

Anakin Skywalker stared at the blue swirls of hyperspace, ready for the long jump to finally be over.

It had been a long year.

It was the first time in months that he’d been able to get enough time off to take a long enough journey. If it had been even a week earlier, he’d have been traveling to random places in the galaxy in hopes of stumbling upon his former Padawan.

The Republic was… rebuilding itself.

With it, the Jedi Order, too. Even if they no longer had any stake in politics— a move that Anakin would’ve protested if Ahsoka hadn’t toppled over their lives in what had to be the best way possible— they were making great changes.

After Ahsoka disappeared, it had been weeks of chaos.

For several days, no one had acted. The war had continued as it had been going. Then, they’d noticed a lack of direction, and the CIS seemed to pause.

Master Yoda himself went out and found Count Dooku, who was now in holding after losing to him. He’d confirmed that his Master was dead. Without the Sith at ready to attack them, they’d switched from attacking separate Separatist bases to nipping the root of it and arresting all members of the CIS. The droids had begun to stop coming, and taking back worlds became easy. Slowly, the war ended.

The Chancellor had been behind it the entire time.

The Chancellor whom Anakin had trusted. He’d guided him through struggles, whether it was with the Jedi or about his mom or simply an annoyance of the day. He was the only person he’d told about the Tuskens other than Padmé, and the only one he’d truly discussed it with. He’d said it was okay.

Now, Anakin knew why.

Anakin hadn’t wanted to trust anyone that way again, not after Ahsoka killed Sidious and subsequently disappeared.

Within two weeks, he’d caved, and Padmé had convinced him to tell Obi-Wan everything. He didn’t want to follow Sith teachings, but he hadn’t known what was Sith teachings anymore. He’d been close with the Chancellor for so long that it was impossible to tell the difference, and the only way he or Padmé had seen to remedy that was for him to confess entirely to Obi-Wan.

It had been difficult, but slowly, it had gotten easier.

Getting the public to believe that their beloved Chancellor could ever be a Sith Lord was more difficult. Ahsoka’s holorecording had helped, but her position in it the situation had made people distrusting. They still saw her as a criminal.

The Council had kept Barriss in the Temple for months because of something Ahsoka had said about her future that Anakin wasn’t privy to. Rex had been the one to step in and say that she wouldn’t have wanted that, anyway, and that it went against their ways.

Rex had told the Council, and subsequently Anakin as he stood beside him in the meeting, supposedly everything Ahsoka told him. He said it all, whether it was about her life or the galaxy. Acting as an extension of her, he’d capitalized on every point she’d made about how to fix the galaxy and Council. He’d made it more than clear, and they were trying to do just that.

Yet… even Obi-Wan had said that they couldn’t possibly be going far enough. Not when they didn’t know how far their own flaws stretched.

Ahsoka promised to return, yet she never had. They couldn’t even blame her. She was in a time that wasn’t her own, and she was largely wanted for killing the Chancellor. Padmé had done as much for her as she could on that front, but others didn’t feel the same. If Ahsoka had been able to survive and disappear while being wanted galaxy-wide in her time, then it was no surprise that she was doing the same here.

The only sign of her was the anonymous, untraceable messages sent to Padmé with solutions to current problems in both the Senate and Jedi Order. Considering her ‘Fulcrum’ comm system that Rex had brought to them, she certainly knew how to make things untraceable. They’d looked for signs of force-sensitive do-gooders in the outer rim, but had come up short. The few times that anything had seemed to have even a chance of being her, he hadn’t been able to get away, and the search parties they’d sent had found nothing.

Maul had not been so quiet. Anakin only had the bits and pieces Rex knew as to why Ahsoka had teamed up with him, and he couldn’t exactly blame her, but he did wish she’d had some sort of contingency to capture him afterward— then again, that was the way of thinking that she seemed to be against. He wasn’t sure what she was really thinking; they’d hardly talked. It was a struggle to remind himself not to take it personally.

Maul had associated himself with the crime world, particularly on Oba Diah. No one had truly tried to fight him yet, as the Republic had enough going on and the Jedi couldn’t tackle another Sith yet. Obi-Wan had searched for him, and he’d had a brief stint with Hondo, of all people, but it had come up flat.

As if everything else going on hadn’t been enough, Anakin had begun to have dreams. They were realistic and deep in the force, just as the ones he’d had about his mother had been. Except, he quickly learned that these dreams would never come to pass; they already had, in a future that would never come.

The first dream had been overwhelming even without the sight of it. It had been filled with a suffocating darkness and sorrow, with a sense that could only be described as sadness weighing everything down.

The first thing he’d noticed was the crashed Resolute.

Then, the graveyard of clone helmets.

And, finally, standing before the graveyard that she'd clearly created was a slightly older Ahsoka. She was cloaked, but he’d been able to see her face, and it was the part of the dream that had stuck with him the most.

If he’d gotten his story right, then those clones had tried to kill her. It looked like she’d narrowly survived— with the look on her face, and the way that she lived off of strategy, he wasn’t sure if she truly did. Her eyes had been sunken and her jaw was tight.

He couldn't process how she hadn’t simply fallen to the dark side after that. He didn't know how she'd kept going and continued to believe in the light side of the force after losing so much.

Rex had been there, just as sullen as her, and it put things into perspective. She’d truly lost everything.

The second dream had been filled with the same emotions, although much tamer visually. Ahsoka had been sitting on the ground of a ship. There were holos and datapads scattered around the room, several of which were open. A wanted poster of Obi-Wan was displayed on the table.

In the center of it all was Ahsoka, her knees pulled to her chest on the ground. Her face was expressionless, like she was lost in her mind. Her eyes stared forward at nothing, speaking a thousand words of sorrow that could never be said aloud.

Then, he’d dreamt of a much older Ahsoka, piloting a rather nice freighter through a battle. There was a slightly modified star destroyer before her, of which was clearly an enemy. She was extremely focused on flying. There were uniformed oddly shaped ships that she shot at, and a small fleet of mismatched ships that were attacking the same forces.

There’d been voices bouncing over the comm.

”We are not leaving without you and Kanan.”

“Will you just listen to the kid?”

Ahsoka sagged slightly with relief, but her lips turned downwards. Guilt?


In the next dream, he’d seen an older human. A group of beings stood before three older men, standing upon what he realized was a heavily damaged AT-TE.

It was only once the one in the center spoke that Anakin realized it was Rex.

“Ahsoka Tano? I fought by her side from the Battle of Christophsis to the Siege of Mandalore.”

The dreams became shorter, after that. He’d see Ahsoka fighting or her and Rex smiling. Her and Maul bickering on an elevator, shrouded in darkness.

Then, he’d seen her fighting an armored figure, and the dreams had stopped.

He didn’t want to know who it was.

He had to find out, though.

For a year, they’d let her wander alone, wherever she was or whatever she was doing.

Then, after a lovely dinner that he’d set up for Padmé after she’d spent all day arguing in the Senate, it had hit him. For the first time in too long, he’d recalled their trip to the outer rim planet of Lothal.

Ahsoka practically forced them to go to the Temple there, and Rex had clarified that she wouldn’t have been able to open it, seeing as she wasn’t a Jedi. Anakin had only gone because she’d been acting odd, and he was willing to do anything to get her back to normal or find out what was wrong. She’d convinced Obi-Wan into thinking it was a learning opportunity.

Anakin hadn’t gotten much out of it. Obi-wan had thought he had, but according to Rex, finding Maul was entirely orchestrated by Ahsoka. Anakin almost felt hurt by the way she deceived them, but then he’d recall the dreams and everything she’d been through.

It had worked, anyway. She’d saved them all.

Once Anakin remembered their trip to Lothal, it seemed obvious that she would go there. It was out of the Republic’s reach, and it had been deeply entrenched in the force. It was remote, and… Ahsoka had liked it. She’d concealed it well, but even then, he’d smiled at how she took in the environment after landing.

The stars before him focused as he pulled his ship out of hyperspace, the partial desert planet taking up most of the viewport. The peace in the force was calming. The force was more alight than it had been in his lifetime, with the Sith defeated and the Jedi fixing themselves, but it was chaotic in the midst of change.

Lothal was peaceful and stable, a perfect place to hide after a lifetime of war.

He couldn’t sense her, not truly, but Rex had briefly described her mentioning being able to hide her presence. Rex hadn’t even understood what she meant as he relayed the information, but Anakin wouldn’t put it beyond her. She seemed capable of anything.

Rex had made it firmly clear to him before he even considered tracking her down, however, that she wasn’t capable of everything. Rex had realized that she was a person, just like she’d always been, and even if she’d become powerful, she wasn’t invincible. Anakin had seen that after she’d nearly blown herself up to destroy Sidious, but he hadn’t truly thought of it until Rex said it.

Rex told him what he’d withheld from the Council, which was Ahsoka’s reaction to telling certain stories. How she had clearly panicked when she told him about Order sixty-six, or her stoic and quick delivery of her story of how she’d voluntarily left the Jedi Order.

A life of war and conflict didn’t make for an unbreakable person, no matter how many walls they put up.

Anakin let the force guide him down to the planet, telling him where to go. It took him away from the city and closer to what the Lothal database labeled Capital City.

He landed in a field outside of the city, listening to some calling of the force. He didn’t even know if she was on the planet, let alone in a random field— the planet had a lot of those— but he had to try.

“Wait here, R2,” he said, patting the droid's dome gently. He got a gleeful beep in response, almost an equivalent of ‘good luck’.

The droid missed her as much as anyone. He wondered what happened to R2-D2 in the future.

The ramp opened with a hiss and stutter, and he could practically hear Obi-Wan’s complaining. He hadn’t had enough time to fix his ships during the war, and he certainly didn’t have enough time now. Obi-Wan could live with it; he wasn’t even there, so Anakin wasn't sure why he was mentally defending his ships to his Master.

He shut the ramp, walked out into the field, and looked around.

Immediately, he saw a large white… wolf? It was looking at something else, but he could see it clearly enough to make out its shape, and he couldn’t possibly fathom what it was doing there. Hadn’t he just read that loth wolves were extinct? He’d searched for information on Lothal out of boredom, and the information and been boring, but he could have sworn he’d seen that.

The wolf turned and looked at him with yellow-orange eyes. For a moment, all he could think of were The Chancellor’s kind eyes turned into yellow Sith eyes, but this was different. The Loth wolf’s eyes were more like suns.

It ran away.

In its absence, he spotted a familiar figure on her knees in the grass. She was angled away from him, and her montrals were taller, but it was still Ahsoka.

Ahsoka, from the future, a spy and all.

He wanted to shout or run over, but the ambiance was too peaceful for that, and she undoubtedly knew he was there already. The grass squished beneath his feet, making an obnoxious amount of noise in the serenity.

Her eyes were shut, and while she wasn’t smiling, she didn’t look sad, either. Her hands rested on her knees, one of which was robotic. He squeezed his own robotic fingers in his glove. He moved to sit down beside her.

“You don’t have to bother.”

Midway through sitting, he paused, “Ahsoka?”

She opened her eyes and looked at him, her movements slow and fluid. She reminded him of the Jedi Masters.

“I was leaving soon, anyway. You don’t have to sit,” she set her hands on the ground as if she needed them to stand and pushed herself up.

“Leaving?”

“To go back to my house. You can come.”

She was getting closer to his height. She felt lighter.

“Are you okay?”

It felt like she was playing a joke on him, but this wasn’t his Padawan. She’d lived a horrifying life, then she’d come back, and she’d saved all of them from going through the same thing.

She smiled as if he’d said something funny, “I’m actually alright, thank you. How are you?”

She wasn’t simply asking out of care, she was asking because of what he could have become-

She’d started walking, so he fell into step beside her. Her hands were clasped behind her back and her shoulders were rolled back.

“I’ve been better. Everything has been a bit of a mess.”

“I’ve heard. You’re working through it, though?”

He’d learned throughout his life, and particularly in the last year, that he couldn’t stand when people didn’t tell it to him straight. She should have known that, but then again, in her mind, they hadn’t truly spoken in about twenty years. He couldn't fault her for that.

“Ask what you want to ask, Snips.”

She nodded, “Darth Sidious. Are you okay?”

No more information was needed.

“It’s… a lot. I didn’t really get much time to go from telling Rex that it was impossible to fighting Sidious and almost…”

“But you didn’t, and you’re here, and I’m happy about it.”

He wanted to ask what happened to him.

“Why didn’t you come back?”

They walked into a city, full of life and happiness.

“I planned to eventually, but I knew you’d find me first.”

“Is that okay?”

She waited a moment, looking around the city and waving at someone they passed, “Yeah.”

He didn’t know what else to say, other than to ask the truly important thing. He didn’t want to hurt her by asking, but he had to know.

He couldn’t possibly ask in the peaceful streets of Lothal.

“Ahsoka! Ephraim came around this morning to give you back your vibrowrench, but you weren’t there!”

Ahsoka paused, stepping onto the side of the street and out of the way. She lightly grabbed Anakin’s arm and pulled him to do the same. Standing before her was a pregnant human woman with a headpiece and the same type of clothes everyone else around them wore. She looked tired, but there were laugh lines on her face.

“Mira,” Ahsoka said fondly. “I just felt like I had to go out earlier than usual today. And, tell him it’s truly fine, I can live without a vibrowrench for a few days. You two have much bigger things going on.”

She motioned teasingly to the woman— Mira’s stomach.

“Not yet, we don’t. I’m bored, quite frankly, and Ephraim’s too protective lately,” she looked at Anakin. “You’re a friend of Ahsoka’s?”

He looked at Ahsoka, unsure of what to say.

“Yes, he’s why I left earlier today. He’s sort of my brother, I'm sure I’ve told you about him,” she looked at him, raising her eyebrows.

“I’m Anakin, it’s nice to meet you, uh, Mira,” he extended a hand.

She took his hand happily, “Mira Bridger, you too. It’s so great to meet one of Ahsoka’s old friends.”

“I’m just happy to be here.”

“It was nice seeing you Mira, but we should probably be going.”

“All right, and, please take back your vibrowrench soon. Ephraim might rebuild the kitchen if you don’t.”

Ahsoka laughed, and he was pretty sure it was the most genuine laugh he’d heard from her since she’d woken up from the future.

“He and Anakin would get along, trust me.”

He looked back at her at the sound of his name and quietly protested, “Hey!”

Mira was gone with a laugh in moments, and Ahsoka gently pulled him back into the walkway and released him.

“Your brother, huh?” he tried to tease.

“I’ve used the excuse so many times, I honestly forgot you would even notice it.”

His smile fell slightly; she shouldn’t have had to do that.

She continued, “Mira and Ephraim are kind. In just a few months, she’ll give birth to a force-sensitive boy named Ezra.”

He looked at her. It occurred to him that she hadn’t simply settled down to live a quiet life, and just as he’d initially wondered, she might not be capable of that. Rex certainly hadn’t thought she was.

“Who is he?” he asked, hoping she’d understood what he meant.

They arrived at a small building crammed amongst dozens of others. She pulled a key out of her pocket and slid the door open, showing him into a small kitchen and seating area with a hallway down the back.

She set her lightsabers on a small side table; he hadn’t even known she’d had them on her. They were the clunky ones that she’d presumably built on Jedha, seeing as he had her original lightsabers on his ship. She grabbed two cups of water and slid one over to him, standing at the counter and swiping idly at the holonet.

“Mira and Ephraim spoke out against the Empire when it arrived on Lothal, and they were arrested and taken away for it. They died years later. Ezra was left alone until he was fourteen, when one of the rebel cells that I provided information to found him, and he joined them. He trained to be a Jedi under a survivor in that rebel cell.”

If Rex hadn’t told him anything, he wouldn’t have been able to keep up with a word of what she’d said. It felt like some sort of fictional story, but it was her life. It was hard to imagine the kind, laughing woman from before speaking up against a government. Then again, it was hard to look at someone and guess what they'd do in the future.

“I assume Rex told you everything?” she asked in response to his silence.

“He did, as far as I know. Just…” he struggled to find a question that he could actually ask. “Who survived?”


“A current youngling, although maybe he’s a Padawan under Depa Billaba by now, I’m not sure anymore, named Caleb Dume.”

He straightened, imagining the young boy and his blue lightsaber, “He is her Padawan, only recently. He survived?”

She nodded, “I don’t know the full story.”

“I can’t imagine it's one any of you liked to tell.”

“No, not really.”

She walked over to her couch and sat down slowly, setting her datapad on the table beside it. It was hard to imagine Ahsoka acting so mundane, but she seemed to fit in well with the environment. He sat beside her.

“We got your messages. Padmé, that is.”

He swallowed down the urge to lie about Padmé; everyone knew, but Ahsoka certainly knew from the future, anyway.

“I know. I’ve seen the progress you’ve made, and it’s a good start.”

“A start…”

“In the Order. It’s not public enough for me to really know, which is a good thing, but I’m sure there's a long way to go. Have they even considered changing how they look at attachments?”

He smiled. It was an automatic reaction, seeing how she took initiative and spoke her mind. She may have been older than he was, but he was proud. She’d always be his Padawan, in his mind.

“I thought you’re not a Jedi?”

“I’m not,” she said firmly. “I’m sure Rex told you the story. There was a time when I considered rejoining, but I never got the chance. Now it’s far too late. I haven’t been a Jedi in a long time, and that’s how it’ll always be.”

They stopped talking, but the room wasn’t silent. Sounds could be heard from outside, and something in her house was thrumming.

“How’d you do it?”

“I had no choice,” she shut her eyes, and he could tell he’d arisen a bad memory.

“Sorry-“

“No, I’m sorry. For leaving.”

“In the past year? I get-“

“No,” she repeated, looking at him. “I know it wasn’t technically you I left, but I have to say it. I never got the chance before. I am sorry for abandoning you.”

He thought of Padmé and Obi-Wan and Rex. He had so many people who cared about him, and they’d helped him get through the past year. He’d done the same for many of them. The Council was rebuilding itself, and he was doing everything to keep his home and family intact.

Yet, he was haunted by the lack of knowledge of what could have been his future.

“Ahsoka, what did I almost become?”

“You don’t need to know.”

“Yes, I do, you have-“

“I do know your struggle, and I went through it. But, it’s my future, and it’ll never happen. What won’t be doesn’t need to be known. It will only cause more suffering, and that’s the last thing anyone needs or that I want to see anymore.”

“Nothing has to happen, but I can’t live without knowing-“

She turned to properly face him, a familiar determination set on her face. Below it, however, was a horrifyingly unfamiliar sadness haunting her eyes.

“You are Anakin Skywalker. You’re my old Master. You’re in almost all of my good memories. You made me into the person I am now, under all of the layers. Every battle tactic, every strategy, every plan, I make with you in mind. Your recklessness and your kindness. I once told Ezra Bridger about you, and he watched your lightsaber training holos. You are Padmé Naberrie’s husband and Shmi Skywalker’s son. You know exactly who you are, and if you don’t, everyone around you can help you figure it out. There is nothing more to it.”

“But I almost-“

“The Jedi almost died. Sidious almost won. The Republic nearly fell. None of it happened, and none of it will ever happen.”

He hadn’t thought anything would soothe his mind about what he may have become, but there was absolute conviction in Ahsoka’s words. Ahsoka knew better than anyone in the galaxy what happened to him, yet she still believed everything she’d just told him, and somehow, that meant everything to him.

He didn’t know what to say, but shockingly, his lips quirked upward in a smile. When he didn’t generally know how to respond to something, he could always fall back on humor.

“I know you didn’t get all of this wiseness from me.”

She smiled back, “Obi-Wan, maybe?”

“Oh, really?”

She laughed, and they sat in comfortable silence for a moment.

She hugged him.

She was grown up, and she’d been through terrors he couldn’t imagine, but her hug was exactly the same.

“I missed you,” he said, wrapping his arms around her.

She leaned into his shoulder, her montral nearly poking his forehead, “You’re telling me?”

Right. She’d gone a lot longer without a hug.

He still wanted to know what happened, but he could see why she didn’t want to say. It was her bad memories, and she didn’t have to share any of them.

He was Anakin Skywalker.

She pulled away first, standing.

“I’ve tried to learn to garden.”

“What?” he asked, unprepared for the sudden lighthearted statement.

“I’m pretty bad. Come look.”

Hesitantly, he stood and followed her down the short hallway. Sure enough, there was a backdoor, leading to a small fenced-in space. There were plants all over the ground, many of which were dead.

What struck him most, however, were the sticks poking between the plants. They were almost like the clone graveyard he’d dreamt of.

Each stick had a small plaque on it with a name scratchily carved into it.

Bail

Padmé

Mon

Sato

Trace

Raffa

Kaeden

Hera

Ezra

Kanan

Sabine

Zeb

Obi-Wan

Maul

Wedge

The plaques continued, going lower to the ground and becoming less visible. In the corner, surrounded by dead plants, was a particularly dark name.

Vader.

He didn’t know what it meant, but he didn’t want to be near it.

“What are these names?"

“They don’t exist anymore. Not the way I remember them, at least. But, I feel like someone has to acknowledge their struggles and how hard they fought.”

He looked at the one labeled for Rex. Even if everything else had fallen, he was happy to know that his Padawan and his friend remained close and alive.

“You have any fun stories of Rex?”


She bent down and tended to a plant; he didn’t know enough about gardening to be sure of what she was doing.

“He and Kanan— Caleb Dume— had a lot of arguments, and not just because of the obvious reason,” it took him a moment to realize what the obvious reason was. “Most of them were about discipline. Rex got called an old man a lot.”

He laughed, scratching his head, “Yeah, I had a few dreams. I can’t tell if they were my imagination or your future but… he did look old.”

She looked at him, her eyes wider than he’d seen thus far, “Dreams? What’d you see?”

“Just small things. Rex, uh, across from a group of people. With two other clones. I didn’t realize it was even Rex at first. He was on an old republic vessel. He was happy when he realized the people… members of the rebellion, I assume, knew you.”

A smile crossed her face. He could have questioned her about the armored figure or told her how proud he was, but she didn’t need to hear either of those. Yet, she hadn’t been in the dream with Rex, and she hadn’t known his reaction to hearing about her. Her gaze was far away momentarily as she looked at the plants.

“What else?”

“That was… the best one.”

Her smile slipped.

He didn’t want to leave her unknowing, “I saw you. As an adult, fighting some people, and you were doing a damned good job. You did against Sidious, too. You’re quite the fighter.”

“You should see me when I’m actually used to my height,” she laughed, but it wasn’t particularly joyful.

She was older than he was accustomed to, but she was still fully grown in her mind. Mira Bridger had treated her like a teenager, even if she’d been through more than most of the people around her.

He wanted to ask if in her seemingly infinite wisdom she knew of a way to get her own body back, but she spoke before he could.

“Did you really just come here because you thought of it?”

“Huh?”

She raised an eyebrow, asking a lighthearted question that he couldn’t understand.

“I really have gotten better,” she crossed her arms, standing.

“I’m not following.”

“You don’t really think I could just settle down and live here, gardening and talking to the parents of a teenager I once let fight in a war, do you?” she led him back into her house. “I have a ship.”

“A ship? Where?”

“In the hangar, legally parked and identified. Quite frequently, I go toward common criminal routes and stop pirates and the like. I thought you’d see the pattern and guess who it was eventually.”


He stopped walking, his jaw falling open. She never stopped. Rex had guessed as much, and Anakin wondered if he’d seen the reports of pirates being thwarted and hid them.

“I had no idea. We’ve been so focused on Coruscant…”

“Think of it as a lesson to pay more attention to the Outer Rim, then. But, really, don't take it to heart. I’m just surprised you didn’t realize it was me; Bail did. He realized it was a Jedi, at least.”

He sat down while she rummaged through cabinets in the kitchen.


“Bail Organa? Rex said you worked with him. He saw you taking down pirates, what, in the rebellion?”

“No, he was the one who made the rebellion, and I was one of the few force users left in the galaxy. I guess it was easier to spot me when no one else was doing the same thing. I spent about a year alone, and then he found me and I joined the rebellion.”

“Alone?”

She looked at him, leaning against her counter.

“Not entirely alone, I guess.”

“How’d Bail know it was you?”

“He didn’t, but he had a hunch that it was a Jedi, or at least someone who could do good in the rebellion. He sent a ship to check it out. I took out most of their members, unaware of who it was, and then found R2.”

“R2?”

She nodded, “I knew wherever he went, it couldn’t have been too bad. I wiped most of the footage on the ship, but I left enough for anyone who knew me to recognize me.”

“And he did, so you joined the rebellion.”

“It was hardly a rebellion then. I was the entire intelligence network for a while.”

“That’s how you became a spy.”

“Yeah,” she looked down, “and now I’m not sure I know how to be anything else.”

There was a lot he wanted to say, but nothing he could express. He wanted to know everything about her life, but it didn’t exist anymore, and she didn’t seem to want to share; that was her business. He wanted to comfort her, but he didn’t know how this Ahsoka would take to comfort.

“Do you want to come back?”

“It doesn’t matter what I want. I killed the Chancellor.”

“What if we could somehow get your adult body back? You’d look similar enough to make people look, but then they’d realize you’re fully grown and look away. Besides, Obi-Wan is pretty set on finding a way.”

She met his eyes, “I’m not sure that’s possible.”

“It’s worth trying, isn’t it?”

She remained silent.

“Look, Ahsoka, I miss you. We miss you. Padmé, Rex, Obi-Wan. I don’t know how you feel about it, and I won’t force you, but I want you to know that. Besides, with all your strategies, you could give us the information to fix things in the ways you know are right. Only if you want. You don’t have to pretend or spare our feelings anymore.”

The quiet noise of her home and Lothal hung around them. Her eyes had settled on the wall, focused but deep in thought. Anakin knew it was selfish, but he truly did want her to come home. He did miss her.

“Okay.”

Ahsoka sent messages to any of her customers— she worked as a mechanic, apparently— and packed a near-empty bag. Her lightsabers were on her hips, swaying with her in a way that seemed to fit more than her first lightsabers had.

The ride to Coruscant was long and boring. They spoke, but he found that she’d gotten much better at keeping herself busy on long journeys. She would’ve had to, he supposed.

She’d tensed the moment they dropped out of hyperspace and entered Coruscant’s atmosphere. Her eyes traced the star destroyers— those of which much of the Republic was trying to remove, along with the rest of their young military.

He landed as close to the Temple as possible, something that was typically discouraged. He needed to get Ahsoka in without anyone seeing her and charging the Jedi with some sort of order of treason; that was the last thing they needed.

It had been her idea to land so close and smuggle her in.

She was cloaked before he was even ready to leave the ship, and then they were quickly walking into the place that had been both of their homes. He'd spent more of his time there in the past year than he had during the entire war, but he didn’t live there; he lived in Padmé’s apartment. Ahsoka had made it clear that her home wasn’t anywhere near the Temple or Coruscant anymore. He wasn’t sure if she even had one.

Nevertheless, they both knew exactly which steps to take to get to the Council room. The members knew well that she was coming, and she knew that they’d have numerous questions for her.

She paused outside of the doors.


“Ahsoka?” he asked, immediately cringing at his lack of empathy.

“I didn’t go through the investigation with you this time.”

It took a moment to understand what she meant, “For the bombing?”

She nodded, “When I did the first time, Master Yoda said that whoever had done it must’ve fallen to the dark side.”

He grasped for something to say, but he couldn’t come up with anything. Master Yoda had said the same thing to him when he’d volunteered to investigate.

“I just keep remembering it when I come down here,” she said, walking forward and pushing the doors open before him. He almost wanted to tell her to wait so he could go first, but she was already in the center of the room.

Her hood was down and her chin was raised. Her hands were still clasped behind her back, and she looked at each member of the Council steadily. In her memories, they’d tossed her out of the Order twice. He didn’t know how she could look at all of them like they hadn’t raised her and then betrayed her, and he respected her completely for it.

“Council,” she said politely, “I understand I’m not here only to ask if there’s a way to get my adult body back. And, I’ll answer your questions and help you reform yourselves in every way I can, but I want to make it clear, that I am not, nor will I ever be, a Jedi. I use the light side of the force, but that doesn’t associate me with you.

“I understand that none of you experienced what I have, but I’ll give you the story, for context's sake, even if you have heard it from Captain Rex. In my time, I was found innocent of the bombing by Anakin, and you all offered me a chance to rejoin the Order. You said it was my trial to be knighted. I declined this offer and walked away. I’ve always wanted to see the Order rebuilt and reformed, but I can’t rejoin it after being removed for the sake of politics. I can’t forgive it, either. I’ve had plenty of time to think about everything I’m going to suggest, so for your own sakes, don’t protest. Have an open mind, as you have preached for years.

"I want to say I won’t come back here and beg you to listen to my suggestions if you’re too dense and self-centered to right now, but I will because I want to see the Order thrive. Please, don’t make me do that.”

She’d really grown up.

Obi-Wan looked guiltier than anyone else, but the feeling in the force was not alone. Anakin wondered if that comforted Ahsoka.

“We thank you for assisting us at all in this time of need,” Master Windu said.

“Begin, you may.”

And, she did.

Just like when Rex had gone before the Council and told them everything, Anakin remained at her side the whole time, listening wholeheartedly. Some things that she proposed were ridiculous, but she wasn’t obtuse as she spoke; she gave reasons, and every single one made sense. Other proposals, he agreed with and marveled at the fact that the Council truly listened.

When she finished, she put up her hood and thanked the Council for their time, as if she wasn’t helping to save the galaxy for the second time. It was saved, but they needed a firm foundation to keep it that way.

The Council thanked her back, and the door shut behind her. She’d be back, and they all knew it.

In the hall, they passed Barriss. Ahsoka didn’t stop walking, but Barriss did, and Anakin could see that they made eye contact. Due to Barriss’ involvement in the situation, and what they knew about her in Ahsoka’s time, she was one of the few people outside of the Council who knew the truth. Other than Rex, Fives, and Padmé, there was no one else.

Barriss nodded, looking unsure of herself as she continued walking.

Ahsoka hurried back into the ship before anyone could spot her.

“Thank you, Ahsoka,” Anakin said as soon as the ramp had shut.

She paused, her hands still on her hood as she pulled it down, “You don’t need to keep thanking me.”

“You deserve it. Hardly anyone knows what you did, but, you saved everyone.”

“I was never in this for praise. If we’d won in the future, by fighting, no one would have known about me, either.”

“I know, but, you’d deserve more than just… fixing everyone else.”

She raised an eyebrow, an impossibly sad smile on her face, “I have no idea how to do what you’re saying.”

“Then we’ll help. Why don’t we go to Padmé’s right now?”

She sighed.


“As long as we don’t get caught.”


“You know how to hide better than me.”


This time, her smile was genuine.

“Oh, I have one more thing for you.”

Standing in the cargo hold of his unstable ship, he pulled out a box from the corner. She raised her eyebrows, surprisingly unfamiliar with it. He thought she’d scoped out the entire ship.

“I know you already have yours, so think of it more as a symbolic thing than anything.”

He opened the wooden box to reveal her first two lightsabers, and her face lit up with shock.

Not surprise.

She’d seen this before.

She picked them up and ignited the blue lightsabers, giving them a spin as she fell into a battle stance. Her eyes were sadder than he’d ever wanted to see them, but something was right as she held them up in front of her.

“Thanks, Skyguy. They’ll be a good reminder.”

He didn’t know if she meant of the future or of him, but either way, he was happy to have given her something good. He was happy that she was happy.

She may not have been his Padawan anymore, but she’d always be his family.

Chapter Text

Ahsoka Tano stepped out of the Lothal Jedi Temple with lekku going to her waist and enough height to be taller than Anakin. She smiled as the sun basked on her, in a free, light galaxy that was almost becoming familiar.

She wasn’t sure how she’d explain her sudden aging to any of her clients or friends on Lothal, but she’d figure it out. Mira and Ephraim undoubtedly knew something was up and could infer enough, but for everyone else… she was lucky Lothalians knew next to nothing about togrutas; she could spin a lie easily enough.

Anakin had tried to persuade her to give up on her strategic plans, but she wasn’t sure if it was possible, and didn’t care enough to give them up. It had gotten her this far.

“Thank you,” she said, bowing to the Temple guards guarding the door. One of which, who would never be known as the Grand Inquisitor, nodded.

She’d never go into the Lothalian Temple again, and that was okay.

It had taken a while for the Jedi to find even a scrap of anything in their Archives about getting her physicality back, but it had happened. Obi-Wan had put in more work than she’d expected, claiming that he’d hate to be stuck in his teenage body. She knew it was more than that, and that he truly cared, and she appreciated his help more than she could express. The wait was worth it to be herself again.

She hopped on her speeder and rode into town, heading straight to the central building. Despite the Jedi preaching that physicality didn’t matter, they’d respected her wishes and aided her in return for the way she’d aided them, and the clear signs of their progress were enough for her to relax somewhat. She was admittedly shocked that it had even worked.

As she rode through the city, she passed the Bridger’s house, where Mira and Ephraim were undoubtedly exhausted with baby Ezra. He hadn’t been brought to the Temple on Coruscant and would instead be trained at the Lothal Temple, where he could still see his parents. It was the first newly active Temple outside of Coruscant, but more was to come.

At first, the Jedi had been extremely apprehensive about her suggestion to make the other Temples scattered around the galaxy active, but they hadn’t had much reason not to consider it. It made sense. It meant making even more major changes to give each Temple the required resources, but they’d enacted it after careful contemplation.

She planned to suggest that young Caleb Dume visit the Temple and perhaps stay for some time. After all, she’d made Ezra a promise.

She arrived at one of the large buildings in the center of Capital City, reserved for politicians and people of importance. Sure enough, in the hangar beside the building, a sleek ship of the Naboo was parked.

She walked into the apartment building and made her way up to the final floor, where Padmé Amidala and her entire consort were staying. She had a key, so she walked right in.

Anakin, Padmé, Rex, Obi-Wan, and several handmaidens were in the first room. She raised her eyebrows at all of them; they’d been waiting.

“It worked,” Obi-Wan immediately said, sitting up.

“You noticed?” she quirked a smile, shaking off any embarrassment at the attention.

Padmé simply looked happy. Anakin looked proud. Obi-Wan looked surprised.

Rex looked happy, but not in the same way as the others. He wasn’t surprised or shocked at what she had grown up to be. He’d been her only ally during her initial time in the past, and he’d seen where that put her. She could feel that he was happy for her.

Things weren’t perfect. The galaxy was still in disarray, and they had a long way to go, but things were coming together. It wasn’t exactly as she’d always envisioned, but it was an improvement in its own way, and it was beautiful.

Padmé and several other Senators had proposed a bill to give the clones citizenship and proper support to build actual lives, and it had passed only a few weeks earlier. Rex, Fives, and everyone else was free to live how they wanted to, even if many of them didn’t know how that was. Ahsoka had faith in them.

No one was ever truly safe from the dark side and their own temptations, but she was assured that Anakin wouldn’t fall. Padmé wouldn’t die, and the clones would never turn on the Jedi. Everyone in the room with her, and everyone back on Coruscant whom she’d once been close with, would be okay.

She’d had a lengthy conversation with Barriss, and she’d gone to Raffa’s laundromat and run into Trace. Old relationships that she’d never dreamed of mending or seeing again existed.

It wasn’t the same, and it never would be, but that was the price of war. She didn’t have much of a life beyond the rebellion in the future, so it wasn’t easy to imagine having one in the past, but she was getting there.

With Senator Bail Organa’s— who knew the truth about her, as she’d never questioned his ability to keep a secret— help, she’d formed a relief organization for the Outer Rim, and she was the one who found the people and locations that needed aid and then found the people who could provide the aid. It was essentially the same job she’d done in the rebellion, except she wasn’t wanted, and she wasn’t working against the Empire at every waking moment. She also had limited hours that she could work in a given day, an addition that Anakin and Padmé insisted Bail create.

Coruscant still wasn’t a great place for her, even if she was cleared from any charges or crimes, but she had few qualms about that. She preferred the Outer Rim anyway, and she got to embrace it while still doing something good. When she wasn’t working for the relief organization, she was still a simple mechanic on Lothal.

Fixing herself was much, much more difficult.

She’d always known that nearly twenty years of terror didn’t do well for her, but actually having to work through it turned out to be near impossible, especially when she could hardly share details with anyone but a select few.

Luckily, she had good people around her, despite their busyness. She sat beside Padmé and ignored the quiet disbelief in the back of her mind that she was in a room with all of these people.

Every once in a while, she’d fly over to Oba Diah or whichever crime planet of the month and visit Maul. She kept an eye on him, but some part of her enjoyed seeing one of her few allies, even if he was insufferable at most times. She’d known he would survive.

She missed Rex— future Rex. A part of her missed the rebellion.

Yet, she’d gotten Steela Gerrera to join her Outer Rim relief organization for Onderon, and Rex was always her first call when something was urgent. An Outer Rim pilot, Jun Sato, commanded a vessel that was always on call. Cham Syndulla had suggested some of his people who could assist, now that Ryloth didn’t need liberators.

She still had her rebellion, in some ways, but things were easier.

Things were good.

The galaxy was at peace, and the Jedi were reforming themselves. They existed enough to be reformed in the first place.

Somehow, she’d done it, and the galaxy had been saved.

She’d thought there was nothing more important than that, but as she sat in a room with people whom she’d never stopped loving, she recalled why she’d wanted to save the galaxy in the first place.

Terror would always exist in their galaxy, but without the Empire, so many people wouldn’t be torn apart. They could grow close in their own ways, never having to go through treacherous things. They could simply live.

So, even with all of her own flaws and problems to be fixed, she could live. She could sit with the people she loved and speak with them care freely, comfortable in her own body and miraculously secure in a time that wasn’t her own.

The war was over, and Ahsoka Tano had lived.