Ahsoka

Chapter 17

IT WAS MUCH WORSE than Ahsoka had expected. Every system she passed through had an Imperial presence, and they weren’t just discreet bases set up to monitor local governments. They were oppressive, controlling resources and populations alike, with no regard for personal rights and needs. Any overt resistance was crushed. Ahsoka had nearly wept when she read the updated bulletins of what continued to happen on Kashyyyk while she’d been out of contact on Raada. She wondered what had become of Chewbacca, the Wookiee with whom she had escaped from captivity on the hunter moon. She hoped he had survived and that he hadn’t regained his freedom only to lose it again, but she was starting to lose that hope.

The planets that weren’t under the control of the Empire had all been overrun by crime lords, none of whom were friendly. Ahsoka didn’t think Jabba the Hutt would feel obliged to pay her any kindness, let alone keep her presence a secret. She briefly considered Takodana, a green world covered with water and more plants than she felt comfortable around, but decided against it without even making landfall. There were just too many unknowns.

After the seventh Outer Rim system that she deemed too Imperial to approach, Ahsoka made a decision. She couldn’t go back to Raada yet. It was safer for everyone, safer for Kaeden, if she stayed away until she came up with a way to rescue everyone at the same time. The Imperials would still be looking for her, and it would be better for her friends if they didn’t know where she was.

She also couldn’t go anywhere in the Core. Even the Inner Rim would be too exposed. As much as she would like to find a hidden valley on a mountainside on some planet like Alderaan or Chandrila, she couldn’t risk it. Her life as a Jedi meant that she knew too many people there.

What she could do was go back to the Fardis. The Empire was already installed there, so things were stable, but the world wasn’t terribly important to galactic politics. She wasn’t even sure who the senator was, despite having lived on the planet for almost a year. The guilds and federations that had held so much power under the Separatists had mostly been obliterated at the same time as the Jedi. That was what had allowed the Fardis to step into power in the first place, without allying with a larger family like the Hutts. She could dodge patrols, and she knew she could get by without raising suspicions as long as she kept a low profile and made absolutely sure not to use the Force for anything. Ever.

In her heart, she was willing to admit a secondary motivation. She needed to check on Hedala Fardi. She’d failed the child before, and since she couldn’t help Kaeden, she could at least try to help someone else who needed her. If she had another rescue to organize, she needed to know about it as soon as possible. She owed the family that much.

She was close enough that the jump through hyperspace was short — an easy calculation, and then she was in orbit. She looked down at the familiar dusty landscape she’d briefly considered home and sighed. She was going to have to do some fast talking to convince the Fardis to take her back, even though they had all but given her clearance to leave in the first place.

She could just hide. Bury her head in the dust, eat only what she could hunt, and disappear from civilized life entirely. It wouldn’t be easy, but she’d be safe. She’d also be completely cut off. Hiding wouldn’t protect anyone except herself, and it wasn’t like she had anything to wait for. She’d just atrophy, alone. It would be better to try lying low again, until she figured out her next move. She squeezed the package of metal pieces, but it didn’t make her feel better. Not having a mission was hard.

The last time she’d landed in the Fardi shipyard, the girls had met her. This time, it was the chief Fardi, the man who’d bought her Republic vessel, and he didn’t look particularly happy to see her.

“Back, I see,” he called out as she disembarked. “Are you returning my property?”

“I think I’ll keep it for a little longer, if that’s all right,” Ahsoka said. “If you have anything that needs fixing, though, I’d be happy to help out again.”

He looked at her in a measuring way. She knew he didn’t know the truth about who she was, but he did know that she’d taken the opportunity to leave when it was presented to her, rather than stay and face Imperial scrutiny. Maybe he would decide she wasn’t worth the risk.

“There’s always room for a good mechanic,” he said after a long moment. “Or even a competent one, like you.”

Ahsoka smiled. Competency was tolerable.

“Even less luggage this time,” Fardi commented.

“I travel light,” Ahsoka said.

“Well, you might as well come back to the house with me,” he said. “We’ll attract attention if we stand around for too long. Usually, we’re ignored, because the Imperials can’t tell us apart, but you’re definitely not related, so it’s best to get out of the open. The girls have missed you, and there’ll be food.”

Ahsoka followed him down the dusty road. It was different than it had been when she left — quieter, an air of expectation hovering on every corner, but not the expectation of anything good. People kept their heads down, and Ahsoka would have to do the same, but keeping her head down wasn’t the same as ignoring what was happening around her, and Ahsoka had no intention of doing that. She’d check on Hedala, mend relations with the Fardis, and then see what she could do for Kaeden back on Raada.

Hedala Fardi knew Ahsoka was coming. That was the only explanation for the girl’s appearing in the door of the family house by herself, away from the gaggle of children she usually ran around with. Even her uncle noticed the strangeness of it, though he let it pass without remark. Perhaps they’d grown accustomed to Hedala’s being strange.

The little girl walked over to Ahsoka and hugged her around the waist. Ahsoka was pleased to see that she was alive and safe. She knelt down to give the girl a proper hug.

“I’m glad to see you,” she whispered.

“Me too,” Hedala said back. The girl was about a year past the age when the Temple might have found her, as far out from the Core as she was. Her baby lisp was gone, vanished in the weeks Ahsoka had been absent. “There was a shadow while you were away.”

Ahsoka wanted to ask what she was talking about, but before she could, the Fardi cousins swarmed her. Already on the ground, Ahsoka had no choice but to submit to the hugs and remonstrations about her absence.

“We’re happy you’re safe, though, Ashla,” said the oldest girl. Ahsoka still couldn’t remember the girl’s name. She’d have to do better this time.

“I’m happy you’re all safe,” Ahsoka said. “The galaxy’s starting to be kind of an ugly place.”

“Shhhh, don’t let Mama hear you talk like that,” one of the girls said. “She doesn’t like politics, and she’ll make us talk about something boring instead. We’ll wait until we’re alone.”

Ahsoka nodded, happy to be involved in so innocent a conspiracy if it led her to good intelligence, and fought her way back to her feet through the hugs from the littler girls.

“I’m really sorry,” Ahsoka said, “but I’ve forgotten which name goes with which of you.”

Instantly, a babble of giggles and names assaulted her. Ahsoka held up her hands in protest.

“One at a time!” she said. “That’s probably why I could never keep you straight in the first place.”

“No one ever keeps us straight,” said a girl who was older than Hedala, but not by much. “That’s how we avoid the law.”

“Too many secrets, lovelies,” Fardi said. He’d come up behind them and was laughing. “But there’s no problem telling Ashla your names. Just get out of my hair while you do it. You babble worse than my own sisters.”

The girls reacted to the perceived insult to their mothers by attacking, and Fardi pressed a hasty retreat toward his office. While they pursued him, Hedala stood quietly next to Ahsoka. She took the opportunity to warn the girl to be careful.

“I need you to tell me about the shadow,” she said. “But you mustn’t tell anyone else, do you understand?”

Hedala nodded, small and solemn.

“We’ll talk later,” Ahsoka said. She took the little girl’s hand. “Come on, let’s go save your uncle.”

It took very little to divert the girls. They brought Ahsoka out into the courtyard, where they all sat on colorful pillows. The high walls made Ahsoka feel safe, even though she knew an Imperial walker could blast right through them. The oldest Fardi girl appeared with a tea tray that held an enormous pot and more than a dozen little cups.

“I’m Chenna,” she said, pouring a cup and handing it to Ahsoka. Despite the heat of the day, the tea was very hot, and Ahsoka blew on it before taking a sip.

Chenna passed out all the cups, naming each girl as she received hers. It was really quite lazy to say they all looked the same. Similar, yes, but that was genetics. Ahsoka catalogued each name as she heard it, linking it with something unique to each girl. Finally, Chenna got to Hedala.

“And this is Hedala,” she said. “But you already knew that, because everyone always remembers Hedala’s name.”

“She will have trouble with the law,” said Makala in a singsong voice.

“You’ll have trouble with the law,” said Chenna, “if you don’t pay more attention to your pilot lessons.”

Makala went off to sulk while the rest of the girls laughed. They started talking about learning to fly, a family requirement, and all the other things they’d done since Ahsoka had left. Eventually, as the sun lowered in the sky, they began to wander off in search of their dinners, and just Chenna, Ahsoka, and Hedala were left sitting in the courtyard. Hedala was seated on Chenna’s lap, and the older girl was brushing her fingers through Hedala’s straight black hair. By this time, Ahsoka had figured out that Chenna was Hedala’s sister and took special care of her on that account.

“Did you see terrible things out there, Ashla?” Chenna asked. “You can tell me in front of Hedala. Nothing scares her.”

“Yes,” Ahsoka said. It was important that Hedala know, but Chenna needed to hear it, too, if she wanted to survive. “The people I met suffered, and there wasn’t anything I could do about it.”

“So you left them?” Chenna asked. She held Hedala tighter, and the little girl squirmed.

“It was more complicated than that,” Ahsoka said. “They went into hiding, and I couldn’t hide with them.”

“Why not?” Chenna asked.

Ahsoka considered it for a moment and then selected a lie that held just enough truth to be reasonable.

“There aren’t so many Togruta at large in the galaxy that I fit into a crowd,” she said. “It would be different if I were Twi’lek, and it would be very different if I were human, but I’m neither. I’m not ashamed of who I am, but I have to be extra careful because of it.”

“We all look like each other, everyone in my family,” Hedala said. She had the manner of someone reciting a lesson, which Ahsoka reasoned was why she sounded suddenly mature. “Our long hair and our brown skin. People don’t try to tell us apart, and we fool them. It helped us avoid the shadow, and it keeps us safe from the law. I wish you looked like us, too.”

“My smart baby sister,” Chenna said. Her tone was full of warmth, and it made something inside Ahsoka ache. Hedala was too young to be so wise, and she would never get to prove her cleverness to Master Yoda like she should. “It’s probably all thanks to my influence.”

Ahsoka laughed, and the Fardi girls laughed with her. She was safe enough for now.