Chapter 12
Ahsoka arrived in the Senate District of Coruscant by speeder.
To blend in with the wealthy politicians and their families, she had chosen a dark blue coat adorned with golden stitching. Fake gold, but it looked good enough.
The guards at the entrance examined her invitation and ID card before allowing her to pass.
An elevator carried her to the second floor.
The apartment was beautiful. Sunlight streamed through the massive windows, casting a soft, golden glow over everything. The decor was tasteful—elegant but not excessive.
Then she saw Padmé.
Dressed in a graceful yet understated gown, the senator looked effortlessly refined. Ahsoka suddenly felt out of place in her own outfit.
"Ahsoka! It’s so nice to finally see you again," Padmé greeted her warmly.
"It’s a pleasure to see you too, Senator," Ahsoka responded automatically.
"Oh, come on, drop the formalities," Padmé teased. "You’re here as my friend. Come sit down—I’ll get us something to eat."
It didn’t take long for Ahsoka to feel at ease again.
Padmé told her about her day at the Senate, venting about the frustrations of dealing with certain politicians. Ahsoka mostly listened, occasionally adding a comment or two.
Eventually, Padmé shifted topics.
"So, while you’re staying with me," she began, "I have a second bedroom that will be yours. During the day, while I’m at the Senate, you can either accompany me or stay here and relax. I have plenty of books—not just political texts, but novels too, if you’re interested."
Ahsoka nodded, appreciating the thoughtfulness.
"If you do go out, please take a guard with you," Padmé added firmly. "I know you’re a Jedi, but while you’re here, you’re my guest."
"I think I’ll stay inside for the next few days," Ahsoka admitted. "I need some quiet."
"That’s completely understandable," Padmé said with a kind smile. "I have some work to take care of, but feel free to do whatever you’d like."
Ahsoka decided to settle into her new room.
It was much larger than her quarters at the Temple, with a bed big enough to fit her three times over. The cushions were a soft beige—not too fluffy, just right.
She noticed a small balcony and stepped outside. The view overlooked the Coruscant skyline, stretching endlessly into the distance. To her surprise, it was quiet. The usual hum of speeders and city life seemed muffled here. Even the air smelled fresher, without the usual stench of exhaust and machinery.
Lowering herself onto the ground, she crossed her legs and rested her hands on her knees, palms facing upward. Ahsoka closed her eyes.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
The Force swirled around her, forming shifting shapes—planets, ships, faces.
Starshot’s face.
The image solidified in her mind. His lifeless eyes stared at her, the dagger still lodged in his throat. Accusing.
"Please, leave me alone," Ahsoka silently begged.
A storm of emotion surged inside her—anger, guilt, desperation. The currents of the Force spun faster, spiraling out of control. Ahsoka's head grew dizzy, and she was forced to open her eyes.
Her breaths came fast and uneven.
This isn’t going to be easy.
How was she supposed to let the anger pass when it kept knocking her off balance?
Maybe tomorrow would be better.
She slept okay. No nightmares, at least. But it had taken a long time before she could finally drift off.
Padmé woke her for breakfast.
“I only need to work in the afternoon today,” the senator told her over their meal.
Ahsoka noticed that Padmé was wearing yet another new dress.
Padmé caught her look and smirked.
“You know," she said, "how about we go shopping today? You could use more than just that one outfit you always wear.”
Ahsoka frowned. “But it’s comfortable and practical. I don’t need anything else.”
“It’s not always about need," Padmé countered. "It’s about wanting things, too. You’re allowed to want things, Ahsoka."
Then her gaze flickered over the younger girl’s form, and she added with a playful smile, "Besides, those clothes won’t fit for much longer.”
And so, they went out.
Flanked by two guards, Padmé practically dragged Ahsoka into every clothing store in sight. Ahsoka swore she had never tried on more outfits in a single day.
By the end of it, she had a completely new battle outfit—deep red with a small cutout, paired with black leggings. Padmé had also tried to convince her to get a party dress, but Ahsoka had firmly declined. She had no use for something like that in the middle of a war.
The next few weeks passed peacefully.
Ahsoka was improving at meditation, and her evenings with Padmé were as fun as ever. Sometimes they talked about current politics, and other times, they simply gossiped about anyone and everyone who came to mind.
“Have you heard the rumors about Commander Bly?” Padmé asked one night over dinner.
“The ones about him and Aayla Secura?” Ahsoka smirked. “Of course. But that’s old news.”
“Damn, I thought I had something new this time!” Padmé groaned dramatically.
They both burst into laughter.
As their giggles died down, Ahsoka leaned back in her chair. “I want to come along to the Senate tomorrow,” she said. “I’ve sat around here long enough.”
The next morning, Ahsoka accompanied Padmé to the Senate.
The building was massive—almost as big as the Jedi Temple. She had put on her blue cloak again, effectively hiding the lightsaber clipped to her belt. Underneath, she wore her new outfit. The material was much finer than her usual tube top, which was the least it should be, considering how expensive it was.
She stood silently beside Padmé as the senator moved through the grand halls, engaging in conversation with all kinds of politicians. Some of them had their own guards, while others—if Ahsoka guessed correctly—hid weapons beneath their clothes.
She only half-listened to the polite chatter, barely interested.
Until she heard one word—Mandalore.
Her attention sharpened.
Anakin had mentioned in their last holocall that Obi-Wan had been sent on a mission there. If he was involved, then this had to be a major political issue.
Padmé and the other senators entered a private meeting room, and before stepping inside, she shot Ahsoka a glance, subtly signaling her to stay outside with the guards.
Ahsoka didn’t like this.
The closer they got to the room, the worse her unease grew.
“Be careful in there, Senator,” she whispered as Padmé passed.
Her instincts were right.
Only a few minutes later, the doors burst open, and the senators stormed out, their voices filled with panic.
“Someone killed Onaconda Farr,” Padmé informed her, her face grim.
Ahsoka immediately snapped into Jedi mode. “What are my orders?”
“Try to find out who it was—or at least gather as much evidence as possible,” Padmé said. “I’m sure you can move around undetected a lot better than the rest of us.”
Ahsoka nodded.
Using the chaos to her advantage, she slipped into the now-empty room.
Senator Farr lay face-first on the rug, an empty glass near his outstretched hand. Poison. She scanned the space quickly—nothing seemed out of place. That meant the venom must have been in his drink before the tray even entered the room.
Time to take a closer look around the Senate building.
She already knew how.
A small smile tugged at her lips as she pried open a ventilation grate.
Moving silently through the ducts, Ahsoka peered into every room she passed, listening and watching. Some held senators working through stacks of documents. Others were empty.
Then, she came across one that was different.
A lone figure stood inside, clad in a dark cloak, facing away from her.
He was speaking to someone.
“Darth Sidious, the Republic is putting more pressure on us than before! You promised us things would get better after this job!”
Ahsoka froze.
Darth Sidious.
Cad Bane had mentioned that name before.
“You did not do it correctly.”
The voice that answered sent a chill down her spine. Deep, distorted, unnatural—yet familiar.
She struggled to place it.
The senator—or whoever he really was—let out a frustrated sigh. “Count Dooku should just go to Kamino and deal with this himself. I’m out.”
Ahsoka’s breath hitched.
Kamino.
Dooku.
None of this sounded good.
She needed to tell the Jedi Council.
But first, she still had a murderer to catch.
This time, someone else was quicker.
When Ahsoka returned to Padmé’s apartment empty-handed, she found the senator slumped in a chair, looking utterly exhausted.
“I’m sorry,” Ahsoka said, sighing. “I couldn’t find anything.”
Padmé shook her head. “No, it’s alright. The killer was found.”
Ahsoka blinked. “How?” Had the Coruscant police actually done their job properly for once?
Padmé gave a tired smile. “Long story.”
That night, as Ahsoka lay in bed, she couldn’t sleep.
Not because of nightmares.
Not because of anger.
But because of restlessness.
She needed to do something. Something more than just guarding a senator.
Maybe it was time to get back to business.