E. Johnston: Star Wars: Ahsoka

MANDALORE BURNED.

Not all of it, of course, but enough that the smoke filled the air around her. Ahsoka Tano breathed it in. She knew what she had to do, but she wasn’t sure it would work. Worse, she wasn’t sure how long it would work, even if it did. But she was out of options, and this was the only chance she had left. She was there with an army and a mission, as she might have done when she was still Anakin Skywalker’s Padawan. It probably would have gone better if Anakin were with her.

“Be careful, Ahsoka,” he’d told her, before handing over her lightsabers and running off to save the Chancellor. “Maul is tricky. And he has no mercy in him at all.”

“I remember,” she’d replied, trying to scrape up some of the brashness that had earned her the nickname Snips the first time they’d met. She didn’t think the effort was tremendously successful, but he smiled anyway.

“I know.” He rolled his shoulders, already thinking of his own fight. “But you know how I worry.”

“What could happen?” Acting more like her old self was easier the second time, and then she found that she was smiling, too.

Now, the weight of her lightsabers in her hands was reassuring, but she would have traded them both for Anakin’s presence in a heartbeat.

She could see Maul, not far from her now. Smoke wreathed his black-and-red face, though it didn’t seem to bother him. He’d already put aside his cloak; battle-readiness oozing from his stance. He was in one of the plazas that wasn’t burning yet, pacing while he waited for her. If she hadn’t known that his legs were artificial, she never would have guessed they weren’t the limbs he’d been born with. The prosthetics didn’t slow him down at all. She walked toward him, determined. After all, she knew something she was pretty sure he didn’t.

“Where’s your army, Lady Tano?” he called as soon as she was within earshot.

“Busy defeating yours,” she replied, hoping it was true. She wasn’t going to give him the pleasure of seeing how much his calling her Lady Tano hurt. She wasn’t a commander anymore, even though the battalion still treated her with the same courtesy they always had, because of her reputation.

“It was so nice of your former masters to send you out alone and spare me the exertion of a proper fight,” Maul said. “You’re not even a real Jedi.”

Malice dripped from his every word, and he bared his teeth at her. His was the kind of anger that Master Yoda warned the younglings about, the sort that ate a person whole and twisted every part of them until they were unrecognizable. Ahsoka shuddered to think what Maul must have suffered to become this way. Still, she was smart enough to use it to her benefit: she needed him angry enough to think he had the upper hand.

“It’ll be a fair fight then,” she retorted, looking him up and down. “You’re only half a Sith.”

That was rude for no reason, the type of thing that would’ve had Master Kenobi rolling his eyes, but Ahsoka couldn’t bring herself to regret it. Taunting one’s enemy was customary, and Ahsoka was going to use all the cards she was dealt, even if it wasn’t polite. He was right, after all: she was no Jedi.

Maul was stalking sideways with a dark feline grace that was oddly hypnotic and twirling the hilt of the lightsaber in his hand. Ahsoka tightened her grip on her own lightsabers and then forced herself to relax. She needed him to come closer. It was a bit like meditation, this waiting. She knew it had worked against Maul before, on Naboo when Obi-Wan beat him the first time. She reached out to the Force and found it waiting for her, a comfort and a source of power. She opened her mind to it and listened with every part of her that could. Then she moved, mirroring Maul across the plaza and taking one step back for every step he took toward her.

“No Jedi, but still a coward,” he said. “Or did Skywalker forget to teach you how to stand your ground before he threw you aside?”

“I left under my own power,” she told him. In the moment, the words felt like the truth despite the pain that lay underneath them. She ignored the hurt and refocused on her sense of balance, on Maul.

“Of course. And I volunteered for that garbage pile, and those first monstrous legs,” Maul said mockingly. She felt his rage swell within him, almost to the breaking point but not quite yet.

He activated the lightsaber and quickened his steps. It was easy for her to pretend he’d caught her off guard, to stumble backward, away from his vengeful charge.

“I’ll bet you volunteered for this, too, Lady Tano,” he crowed. That much was correct, but he could perceive only her weakness. His anger blinded him to all else. “One last attempt at glory to impress a master who has no further use for you.”

“That’s not true!” she shouted. Just a little farther now. He was almost ensnared.

He bore down on her, cruel laughter scraping out of his throat, and still she waited. Then, just before she was in his reach, she sprang the trap.

The familiar green energy sang as she activated her lightsabers and moved to engage, one last feint. Maul lunged forward and Ahsoka took a quick step back, drawing him past the point of no return. He swung down, directly at her head, and she responded with all her strength. Her weapons locked with his, holding him exactly where she wanted him to be.

“Now!” she commanded her unseen allies.

The response was fast, too fast for Maul’s distracted defense. Ahsoka threw herself clear just in time.

The ray shield came to life, trapping her prey with his lightsaber still raised against her.

SHE WAS ALONE,something she was never meant to be. Her people were tribal, blood and bond, and her ability to use the Force gave her a galaxy of brethren from all species. Even after she left the Jedi Temple, she could feel the others when she wanted to—the ebb and flow of them in the Force around her.

Until, of course, she couldn’t.

Now she almost preferred the solitude. If she was alone, she didn’t have to make choices that affected anyone other than herself. Fix a malfunctioning motivator or not, eat or not, sleep or not—dream or not.

She tried to dream as little as possible, but that day in particular wasn’t good for it. Empire Day. Across the galaxy, from the Core to the Outer Rim—though somewhat less enthusiastically in the latter—there would be festivities commemorating the establishment of order and government by Emperor Palpatine. It was the first such celebration. The new Empire was only a year old, but the idea of celebrating the day at all nauseated her. She remembered it for entirely different reasons than peace.

Mandalore had burned, and even though she, Rex, and the others had managed to save most of it, their victory had been immediately undone with such violence that Ahsoka could hardly bear to think about it. So she didn’t.

“Ashla!” The voice was loud and cheerful, wrenching her from her memories. “Ashla, you’ll miss the parade!”

Living in the Outer Rim had its benefits. The planetary populations were small and not highly organized, making it easier to live under an assumed name. She could also easily stay far away from any of the major hyperspace lanes. Most of the planets in the Outer Rim didn’t have anything interesting enough to attract Imperial attention anyway, and the last thing Ahsoka wanted to do was attract attention.