Palpatine already knew the outcome before Sate Pestage had even asked for an audience. His plans were compromised again by the cunning Togruta, even though he sensed she didn’t quite grasp the meaning her actions were imparting on not only her own destiny, but his as well. Stewing after the conversation with Vader, he was on the verge of transcribing his apprentice’s thoughts and intentions before that same apprentice veiled his contempt. ‘Yes, you do channel your hatred perfectly when its most crucial to do so’ the thought compounding his own love hate relationship with his Sith ally. He knew, sensed, that he and Vader were on different paths to the same goal and for all these years he had been the perfect tool to exact the detailed executions needed to bring the grand plan to fruition, but something was changing. Yes, Vader’s hatred of the order was a very powerful weapon and had served him well in dispatching the nemesis of the Sith, but the anger was constantly dissipating, as if to serve a directional agenda Palpatine could not sense or anticipate. He couldn’t put his finger on that agenda or even its motive despite deep meditation focused on the subject. Assuaged to finally be over Vader’s meticulous efforts to bring Padme back to the mortal realm, he had initially suspected it was his apprentice’s own failure, yet again, to challenge the divisions of life and death, of which there was no power capable of serving, at least not one he could locate, despite many years devoted to researching. He would teach his apprentice to mitigate his own mortality, but in due time, there was no rush to share anything on the subject until he was assured of his own mastery of it. That endeavor was also nearing completion which made him pause in thought as he began to stir all the variables together. ‘We must be complete Lord Vader,’ he found himself concentrating. The issue at hand being the gravity of all that was currently ongoing, being directed by a single force in the galaxy, that could only be mitigated if there was another with the same vision. This continually brought Palpatine right back to his original frustrations and why he had placed such priority on capturing the Togruta. He had no sense at all in her agenda, motives or even destiny but needed to see for himself the power this being possessed and if there was any chance of manipulating it to his own needs. She had learned much from her former master, that was clear. Would he, Palpatine, be able to offer that which he could convince her she lacked, was the question. He entertained himself with in the cycle of replaying of the Nar Shaddaa holofeed and was simply brimming with enthusiasm over the prospect of assisting that precision into his own fold, with or without Lord Vader in the picture. ‘Ah, yes, perhaps I have spent too much of my own attention directed to the wrong source,’ his thoughts confirming the contempt from within taking hold at his inability to truly vest the power within her. “The perfect seed from the start,” he said aloud. Reflecting on her supposed expulsion from the order, the ‘seed’ was already planted. It was in fact ripe from that very beginning and he had been so blinded by Skywalker’s natural ability and careful cultivation. Anger welled up from very deep within Palpatine, an anger he hadn’t felt since being pushed by Cosinga on Chandrilla. He would never curse himself for being aggressive in his methods or tasks, he would however consider the wisdom of exploring all methods of opportunity measured against his own haste for results. That is why he would succeed where no other Sith master could. They had lacked the focus needed for galactic rule, a weakness his current apprentice was now exhibiting. One he could not allow to continue.
“It appears we have arrived just in time Lord Vader.” Proclaimed Captain Raynol. Watching the chaos unfold in real space above an actively failing planetary shield meant to secure Scariff. “Rebel vessels in full retreat.”
“The statement is obvious Captain.” Replied Vader watching with indifference towards the ship’s car-rooming into the destroyer’s hull. “My interest lies only in the command vessel. Get us in closer.” He turned to his left. “Commander Pryce, prepare your boarding party and follow me.” He sped away quickly out of the command center and headed for the hangar bay, cape billowing behind him.
Boarding the strike craft, his resolve was hardened by the countless times he had been in this same situation, regardless of reason. He was coldly building his rage. Conversing with his master had a way of doing that on its own but he had learned to use it to light the fuse of his combustible anger. His feelings toward his master were of no consequence at this moment however as that fuse was growing shorter. The strike craft was pulling away from the destroyer and navigating toward a direct course for the command vessel. His senses sharpened with determined focus as he brought his breathing in rhythm with the rage coursing through his very being. The rage needed no other conduit than himself. It was his most deadly weapon. The strike ship’s pilot had carried out this exercise before and knew Vader would expect nothing less than max power. Within seconds the pilot was already bringing the ship in line and firing the docking clamps deep into the rebel vessel’s hull. The winches speeding the ship into contact with the hull itself as the assigned troopers flung open the access hatch doors at the same time the cutting crew torched into the reinforced plating. Vader was right behind them, pulling inward, all the Force energy he could. As soon as the torches met concentrically, he blasted the freshly cut panel deep into the opposing craft as support troops from behind began methodically discharging energy beams into the smoky interior. Chaos was his battle hymn. Screams from both friend and foe echoed through the hall in the energy-riddled corridor. He needed no guide to obtain his objective, only the scent of fear, and it was heavy. He strode with purpose, and great haste, towards the communications suite riding that scent, knowing he was precisely where he needed to be as it had never been thicker. The point of terror he always sensed was always his way of deeming the correct insertion point to unleash his devastation and these feeble rebels had led him to a hallway they couldn't possibly hope to survive. To make certain of their demise he called upon the force to negate power to the corridor knowing it would seal them in. The silence in this place only added to the sheer hopelessness they were all feeling as all that could be heard, outside of their own hearts slamming into their chests was the measured respiration from the darkened end of the hall. He didn’t wait a second longer as his well-used and worn tool of destruction came to life in his hand with the ever-satisfying sound of ignition.
With doubt ever in the forefront of her thoughts, Ahsoka hit the key on the navicomputer she had assigned as an alternate destination and engaged the hyperdrive. Exhaling deeply, she turned to T’zar. “let’s shed light on some reality.” She said directly. “I do not follow the tenets of the Jedi, nor do I surrender myself to the order of the Sith. I serve what I feel in the moment, and quite often that isn’t me or myself. I will not submit to anyone’s idea of what fits for them. That includes you. What is your angle.” She felt foolish staring at a shadow but meant every word.
“My angle is nothing more than what I spoke of. The vergence felt decades ago is coming to pass and I, we, have great interest in what and how it transpires in the mortal realm.”
“What need is there that can’t be felt or experienced in the realm of the Force?” Ahsoka was determined to extract as much information as possible. “Your presence betrays you. And who is the ‘we’ you keep referring to.”
“Ahsoka, perhaps this would be easier on the other side. I feel my concentration faltering.” He replied.
“Have it your way, as it is you already understand my abilities are only enhanced there.”
T’zar ceased to exist in the cabin, on the ship, or even in the mortal realm. Again, Ahsoka blew out her breath, curiously wondering when she would ever get a moments rest. Resisting the initial urge to call herself into the Force completely, she took a minute to digest everything he had said and brought a hand to her chin in quiet contemplation. There was a deliberate reason for his appearance that she hadn’t been able to decipher and was in no way compelled to place herself into the hands of another so closely attuned to the Force. There was great danger in pursuing this interest, she chuckled to herself hearing the voice of Master Yoda in her thoughts inflect upon the same statement more times than she could count. The blue projection, still suspended above the holotable in the room beyond, reminded her of the need to see to the conclusion of at least one mystery, and one she felt better completing before putting herself into danger, yet again. She approached the suspended, yet paused, image with the same regard she had held earlier, knowing the face yet unable to put a name to it. She cycled back and played the recording from the start, with again, the same results. The image was clearly speaking but in a language she could not decipher. She ran a modified translator protocol with scant hints of words but still not clear enough to understand. Watching everything within the image as she played it over yet again, she was confused by the way his hands were moving, more, the way his whole body was rocking back and forth with muscular correction taking place at the wrong intervals. It wasn’t so much those subtle movements that anyone would take for granted, it was the blink of his eyes and the downturn at the corner of his lips upon completing a word, the way his tongue rolled back into his mouth rather than forward while speaking most languages. “Gotcha.” She ran the recording to its completion and switched the coder cycle to run in reverse order, starting the recording at its finish.
“Anaem Mos, I presume.” The figure spoke.
“I am.” a voice responded.
“If you’re as eager to carry out a task I offer you as you are difficult to find, you could be a very rich man.”
“I’m listening.”
“Would carrying out this task in the name of the Empire cause you any concern?” The figure spoke.
Where had she seen this man before? She could picture him, in multicolored robes and finery, always with this headwrap. On Coruscant. A dignitary? A Senator? No to both. She was always in the presence of the galaxy’s finest of both politicians and nobility. This man was neither. He was an underling, always in the shadows. She crossed her arms before her, continuing to watch.
“I care not where the credits come from, what’s the task and how much.” The voice, the Iktochi, Ahsoka presumed, responded.
“A trove if carried out to completion. The apprehension of fugitive Ahsoka Tano. Alive.”
She watched as the figure leaned forward, no doubt relaying her information to the deceased Anaem Mos via secured holonet connection.
“Jedi? You must have mistaken me for a lunatic. And with a list of warrants that long, a ‘trove’ takes on a whole new meaning to me.” Mos said with a laugh.
“I assure you this is no laughing matter, and upon her capture and Imperial detainment you have but to name your price. Besides it not as though you haven't tracked Jedi before.” The figure returned. The stern look of the figure reminding Ahsoka of a particular event on Coruscant years earlier, one in which Anakin was conversing with the Chancellor and those same eyes bore into her at Anakin’s side. Pestage. Palpatine’s crony. She remembered following up on several leads the Jedi where investigating, leads delved from informants in criminal networks and various other sources of questionable legality, all of them leading back to this man in one way or another. How he has aged though, almost unrecognizable Ahsoka thought. Perhaps on purpose? What purpose, for that matter, would Palpatine have served in her apprehension? He was clear in that she was to be taken alive, and that fact was not lost on her. Sure, she was quite adept at diving headlong into Imperial entanglements, but to draw the ire of the Emperor himself was a feat in and of itself. She would have to meditate on its meaning.
“Well, that does whet my appetite. I’ll take the job. Last seen?” Mos continued.
“Nar Shaddaa, blasting her way out of the spaceport. There was a live feed leading up to her escape that has since been deleted but I do have an unrestricted copy for you.” Again, Pestage leaned forward toward the holocam. “She was in the company of a Mirialan female, She calls herself Kowani Y’mmat, known smuggler and purported ally to the rebellion cause. Her capture would also be rewarded; however, the condition of her return is entirely in your hands.” Ahsoka felt the anger rise within her again. Anger at the insolence and candor with which this ‘business’ transaction was taking place before her eyes. Anger burning its way into her blood at her own naivete for not seeing the larger picture, one which Obi-wan himself had told her was coming. The anger boiling into a refined rage as she slammed her fist into the holotable. The movement jostled a small stack of holochips, scattering them across the control panel. All of them labeled with her name. She knew what she would see. The carnage replayed in her memory constantly.
The emotional balance within her was slipping as she gave way to remorse for the damage she caused and the lives she stole. An inconsolable act she regretted immediately upon seeing the devastation she had caused, the remainder of the exchange driven solely by her emotions. Emotion. Unchecked, it could turn her into a most dangerous foe…. or ally! She had answered her own question. Feeling an even deeper shame for calling such attention to herself at the cost of, possibly, her friend’s life. Regardless of the outcome with the Anaem Mos, she knew Palpatine would find out one way or another that he had failed, and that the search for her would take on a life of its own. Ahsoka knew then what her intentions were, referenced by T’zar earlier, she felt the complete impact of what had only been a subconscious thought coalesce into extant thought. She would need to initiate the confrontation. She would need to cut the head off at the very top, but she also knew she needed to start with the heart. Knowing full well what she needed to strive for, her thoughts again returned to the Sa’darra Shili’neh, T’zar Ek. Divining his motives were best done in direct confrontation and to accomplish that she would need complete focus. Asserting herself to the here and now, she dispelled all thoughts and emotions related to the past or future, centering herself on the absolute present. She began running through her personal litany of calming influence to place herself completely within her own control. “Emotions must be controlled.” She began reciting to herself. “Through them I become a conduit for others.” She closed her eyes slowly as she began to kneel, hands on her knees. The familiar and welcoming peace she craved began its slow wash over her as she began the process of self-regulation. “Focus on the self without the self.” She slowly mouthed the words, an effort to leave her mortal concerns behind on this journey. In a symbolic gesture, she took each of the sabers at her belt from their clips and placed them in front of her. She would not need them, her mind being the only weapon capable of inflicting damage if necessary. She began building her walls but did not solidify them, for a deluge of force energy would leave her momentarily unprepared upon arrival. The slow trickle of Force energies, both light and dark, as they would need equal representation for the purposes of her own balance, began to filter into her body on that connected spiritual level. The welcoming warmth and comfort always peeling back the layers of uncertainty and doubt she carried. Her focus was staunch upon feeling those gentle waves. She let them caress every part of her as they allowed her complete and decisive perception on every sensory level. “I am the Force.” She said with conviction and finality as she allowed the last vestige of her mortal self to slip into the deep transient void that would prove to be her next battleground.
Barreling through hyperspace on a route new to her, Kowani continually rejected the idea of remapping their decant back to Dagobah. She had intelligence reports she didn’t trust to even secure networks and inspiring news to relate to reignite hope for the rebel cause. The flashing indicator on her control panel and audible signal ringing through the cockpit alerted her to the decant point selected, closer to Yavin 4 than even she realized. Pulling the lever back toward her, the welcome sight of spherical greens and blues snapped into view. “R3, these new routes are going to prove invaluable.” She said, entirely for her benefit, her thoughts racing at the wellspring of opportunity they would create and speed with which they could be traversed.
“Liberator, we have you on scan, awaiting authorization codes.” The comm lighting up, sating her with a sense of relief and unexpected comfort.
“Base one, this is Liberator, 220.33beta.” Kowani said with a smile.
“Affirmative Liberator, platform 23, welcome home.”
She eased into the yoke and brought the ship down through the gravity well of Yavin 4’s upper atmosphere, relishing the feel of her feet back on home soil. Anxious to get planet side she almost tripped her way out of the cockpit after feeling the landing gears retract, bearing the weight of the vessel on their hydraulic supports. She flipped the switches with great haste, performing her post flight shut down only partially as she was also aware she wouldn’t be ‘home’ long. Ahsoka needed her. “R3, finish the post flight, but stop at the plasma inductors, I won’t be long.” R3 responding in the affirmative. Kowani dashed for the boarding ramp as it broke its seal and hissed slightly before engaging. She jumped off the end before it had even finished its descent and right into the arms of Garand, who had rushed, himself, to the landing platform.
“Ani, I am so glad you made it back, we were all concerned after the reports at Nar Shaddaa.” He said genuinely.
“We might not have had it not been for Ahsoka.” She responded.
“Ahsoka? Ahsoka Tano?” A new voice questioned. Kowani looked up and into the eyes of the exiled Chandrilan senator.
“The same senator. She is currently enroute to an... unspecified...location to, how did she put this, see an old friend.” Kowani said, deciding to keep some of the details to herself.
“That is very welcome news indeed, especially at this particular moment.” Mon Mothma seemed to withdraw slightly.
“What’s going on?” Kowani was suddenly very aware of all the activity surrounding her. Techs and crews working on fueling, arming, and upgrading all the assembled rebel fighters. Arms crews stacking ammunition beside ground batteries and anti-aircraft installations, mag lifts carrying projectile shells. Emergency crews assembling at strategic points within eyesight of her current position.
“Preparation miss Y’mmat, asserting ourselves should this base be compromised.” Mothma answered.
“The fleet took a big hit at Scarif but did succeed in attaining plans for the Imperial super weapon.” Garand finalized.
Kowani, remembering the brief conference with Dak, had no idea things had escalated so quickly “Senator, we need to speak to General Willard.” She insisted, grateful to have traded the dry Tatooine heat for the densely humid Yavin heat. Garand ushering the way into the rebel command center, Senator Mothma in stride beside her. “We had all feared Ahsoka perished on Malachor, how is it she comes to be alive after so long?” She said.
“I don’t even think she knows the answer to that Senator.” Kowani replied. “There seems to be many things she is grappling with.” She concluded with a downward glance at her feet.
“Your patience is to be commended Ani, had you not agreed to monitor that system, we would have all lost a precious ally.”
“You’ll get no disagreement from me on that.” She returned, picking her head back up and freely smiling, thinking of Ahsoka.
“Kowani Y’mmat, it is good to see you home again, it has been some time.” General Willard spoke in his gruff commanding voice. “To your insistence on seeing me so quickly?” He finished, dispensing with pleasantries.
“Yes General, it is good to be home, if even briefly. I understand this base is on high alert due to the business of the Imperial super weapon. That isn’t the only one. There is another, per sources, presumably beginning initial stage construction in the Moddell Sector.” Reaction from those congregated as well as a few members of the high council were beset with discouragement and dejection. Kowani knew the news wasn’t favorable but didn’t quite understand the depth of their reaction. “On a more positive note, Ahsoka Tano has returned.” The dejection vanished momentarily as everyone mulled over both bits of information in their own way.
“What does all this mean?” General Draven was the first to speak. “Honestly, we just went through this with Erso.”
“That’s for you to decide General, for all of you to decide.” Kowani said waving her hand around the room.
“We learned a valuable lesson General in not heeding wisdom, regardless of its source. I feel that is something we should not waste, being provided a second opportunity in so short a time.” Mon Mothma came to Kowani’s aid with a nodding of approval through most of the room. “We can discreetly investigate this information Ani; I will endeavor to that end myself. Ahsoka’s return may have everything or nothing to do with us, that is entirely her choice, would you not agree General?” She finished. The members of the council and others that had assembled were talking amongst themselves as General Draven shook his head in obvious frustration. Kowani, looking for Garand, spotted him conversing with a group of roughly uniformed officers.
“Garand.” She waved, catching his attention. “Garand, where is Cassian? I don’t see him here, off on some covert mission I suppose?” She asked.
“Ani, Cassian was lost on Scarif. Strike teams, gunships, support groups and several capital ships were also lost. Most likely why your news didn't quite get the response you had been expecting and the reason for the Senators quick defense.” Garand said with a dour face, knowing full well Kowani would want the facts as plainly as possible. “The price was exceedingly high, I just…. we hope it was all worth it.”
“What exactly was the prize?” Kowani was curious.
“Plans for that super weapon, we hope.”
The gravity of the statement not lost on her, she began walking toward her ship, back out into Yavin’s jungle heat.
“You’re leaving so soon?” Garand asked.
“We all have our part to play Garand, I am simply playing mine.” Her thoughts returning to Ahsoka.
“Where are you going?”
She began walking up the ramp and hesitated. Placing a hand on the support strut, she turned her head to face Garand, who had come to a stop at the ramp’s edge, “The Force will guide me.” She smiled in that knowledge, turned her head back and finished climbing her way onto the ship.