Chapter 11
Yellow worms slithered up her legs, coiling around her arms and along her lekku. Ahsoka thrashed, trying to shake them off, slashing wildly with the dagger in her hand. Every time she cut one in half, dark blood splattered across her hands and face.
Suddenly, the worms had voices.
“You killed me.”
“You killed me.”
“You killed me.”
The words grew louder and louder, spiraling into a deafening chorus. Ahsoka gasped, her whole body trembling.
Something warm grasped her hand.
“…Commander! Commander, hey—Ahsoka, wake up. It’s just a bad dream.”
Ahsoka’s eyes shot open as she bolted upright, her breath coming in quick gasps.
“Woah, woah—stay down, stay down.” A gloved hand gently pressed against her shoulder, guiding her back down.
Rex.
She took in her surroundings, her vision adjusting to the bright lighting of the medbay. Again. Rex was seated beside her bed, his other hand still wrapped around hers. When he noticed her looking, he quickly pulled it away.
“How long?” she croaked, her voice raw.
“Just a few hours, Commander,” Rex replied, his voice calm and steady. “General Fisto and his crew found you after the ship docked.”
Ahsoka swallowed, her mind catching up. “Barris?”
“She’s okay. So are the others,” Rex assured her.
Ahsoka wanted to feel relieved. She wanted to be grateful that Barris had survived. But—
“Not Trap,” she murmured, bitterness creeping into her tone. “Not Starshot.”
Rex’s expression shifted like he wanted to say something, but before he could, the medic, Kix, stepped in.
“Good to see you awake,” Kix said. “Captain, please step out so I can do the final check-up on our Commander.”
Rex hesitated for a second before nodding and stepping out.
Ahsoka followed Kix’s instructions without much thought, moving where she was told, answering when necessary. But she barely felt present. There was something missing inside her—an emptiness where something should be.
“Commander, your vitals are stable,” Kix finally said. “I’ll clear you to leave, but you need to rest for a few days. If there’s anything you need, don’t hesitate to come back here.”
Ahsoka nodded absently. Rest. She wasn’t sure how much rest could help.
There wasn’t much for Ahsoka to do. Almost mechanically, she made her way to her quarters and dropped onto the bed. She lay there, staring into the bright lights above, unblinking.
Reality started seeping in.
First, it was only a single tear that slipped quietly down her cheek. Then another. And another.
She didn’t make a sound.
She just lay there, drowning in her own tears.
Ahsoka wasn’t sure how long it lasted—only that they eventually stopped, not because the grief had faded, but because she had no more tears left to shed. Her head felt unbearably heavy, her body sore and stiff as she finally pushed herself up and made her way to the bathroom.
She gulped down some water, then splashed more onto her face.
When she looked up at the mirror, she barely recognized herself.
Empty, dull eyes stared back. Her skin was pale, and the once-vibrant blue markings on her lekku looked faded, almost gray.
“It’s your fault.”
“You couldn’t save him. And then you killed him.”
“Selfish.”
The words weren’t spoken aloud, but they may as well have been. It felt like her reflection was whispering them, accusing her, reminding her of the truth.
Her fists clenched.
Before she could stop herself, she slammed her hand into the mirror.
The glass shattered, splintering into a million tiny pieces. Her reflection broke apart, fragments of her sad, broken face scattering across the sink and floor.
The tears came again, but this time, something else surfaced with them—something she hadn’t felt in a long time. Not since the day she ran into Wolffe at the temple.
Loneliness.
It settled deep in her chest, heavy and suffocating.
She needed to do something. Anything.
Ahsoka forced herself to think. There was a ritual, wasn’t there? Something the clones did for their fallen? She remembered Rex doing it once, after Teth. Where clones died because of you.
She wiped her tears away with the back of her hand.
Maybe this would help her?
As Ahsoka stood in front of the captain’s door, her confidence wavered.
Would Rex even want to help her?
It was her fault more of his brothers were dead.
She took a deep breath and knocked.
“Come in,” came Rex’s voice from inside.
Slowly, she pushed the door open and stepped in. “Hi,” was all she managed to say before tears started falling again.
Rex was at her side in an instant, guiding her over to his bed and sitting her down next to him.
“Oh, Commander,” he mumbled, his hand resting gently on her back.
Ahsoka swallowed hard, trying to force down the sobs. “Can you do the ritual with me?” she asked, voice trembling. “The one for the fallen?”
A pained smile flickered across Rex’s face. “Starshot udes o’r naak.”
“Udes o’r naak, ori’vod,” Ahsoka whispered.
Silence settled between them, heavy with grief.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled.
“It’s still not your fault,” Rex said softly. “It’s our job to protect you. We’re expendable, Ahsoka. We live to die, we—”
“NO!”
The sudden outburst shocked them both.
Ahsoka shot to her feet, her whole body trembling. Emotions she had tried to bury came rushing back all at once—anger, grief, guilt, hatred.
“Stop saying that! Stop talking like that!” she shouted. “Starshot wasn’t made just to die! He was my brother! He was my friend! How dare you talk about him like he was nothing! He was—he is—he…”
Her voice broke.
A sudden pressure on her wrist brought her back. It was as if someone had ripped away the storm of anger clouding her mind. Her eyes widened in horror as she looked down.
Her lightsaber was ignited.
And Rex had stopped it just in time.
She gasped, quickly deactivating the blade and stumbling back.
“I—I—I…”
She didn’t know what to say.
Disgust churned in her stomach. What have I done?
She had almost hurt Rex.
She barely registered the exhaustion hitting her all at once. The only thing grounding her was the warm, steady weight of Rex’s hand on her shoulder.
“It’s okay,” he murmured.
He guided her back to the bed, and without thinking, Ahsoka curled into the warmth of his presence.
Sleep pulled her under almost instantly.
Had Rex been afraid when Ahsoka stood in front of him, lightsaber ignited?
Yes.
But now, as she lay curled up in his lap, he only felt sorry for her.
This was the second time he’d had to hold her while she cried, the second time he’d watched her drown in guilt for something that wasn’t her fault.
If it weren’t eating her alive, it would almost be an honorable trait.
With a quiet sigh, he ran a gloved hand along the soft skin of her arm. At least, for now, she seemed to be sleeping peacefully without nightmares.
Ahsoka woke up to a strangely amusing sight.
Rex had fallen asleep sitting up, back against the wall, his mouth slightly open.
She still didn’t feel good, but at least her thoughts weren’t a tangled mess anymore.
“Sleep well, Rexter,” she whispered, smiling faintly as she slipped out the door, closing it quietly behind her.
Back in her quarters, Ahsoka tried to distract herself with her holopad.
A new message.
It required a password to open—Shaak Ti’s encryption.
It only took her one try.
Log 1
Hello. I found some data I need to secure.
The clone on Shili was from a ship that had been stationed above the planet. The ship exploded, and only he managed to escape in a pod.
The concerning part?
All information on the explosion has been redacted.
When the Kaminoans noticed I was looking into it, they deleted everything.
I’m still searching for what he meant by ‘chip,’ but we can trust no one.
I don’t know who has their hands in this.
The voice message ended.
More secrets. No answers.
Ahsoka clenched her fists. Why does it always have to be this way? Anger bubbled up inside her gain.
It took almost five minutes for the anger to settle enough that she didn’t feel like smashing something.
An idea she’d had earlier resurfaced, solidifying in her mind.
She found her Master faster than expected.
“Ahsoka.”
“Master,” they said in unison, meeting in an empty corridor.
Anakin motioned for her to go first.
“Master, I need some time off,” she said, her voice unsteady.
She braced herself—hoped he wouldn’t laugh, wouldn’t dismiss her, wouldn’t tell her she was needed on the battlefield.
For once, she wasn’t disappointed.
“I was actually going to suggest the same thing,” Anakin said.
Ahsoka let out a breath of relief.
“I felt it yesterday,” he continued. “The anger.” His voice was calm, understanding. “And I want you to know—it’s not wrong to feel that way. But what makes the difference between Jedi and Sith is what you do with it. You can let it take over, act on it… or you can acknowledge it and let it pass.”
Ahsoka hesitated. “But… will the Council even allow something like this? Especially in wartime?”
Anakin smiled. “Let’s just say I gave you an important assignment—learning about politics and assisting a Senator’s guard detail.”
Ahsoka blinked.
“Pad—” Anakin caught himself, clearing his throat. “Lady Amidala was happy to have you assist her for a while.”
Ahsoka’s eyes lit up.
Time with Padmé.
It wasn’t completely stepping away from responsibility, but at least it wasn’t battle. It would give her time—to think, to process, to breathe.
“Thank you, Master,” she said.
And then, before she could overthink it, she stepped forward and threw her arms around him.
Anakin chuckled, hesitating only a moment before wrapping his arms lightly around her in return.
“But there’s one thing I want you to do,” he said as they pulled away. “Please meditate every day. Work on the mental barriers I showed you. And don’t hesitate to call me if you need anything.”