Star Wars: Ahsoka

Miara choked on her tears but managed to stop them. When she found her voice again, she started to talk.

“We were doing okay,” she said. “I mean, it was awful, but we were hiding, like you said. Only then this terrible thing came, and he knew Kaeden’s name. He said if she didn’t come out, he’d blow the whole hillside up to kill us.”

Ahsoka’s heart sank.

“So she went,” Miara said. “Her arm was still so bad she had trouble walking, but she went. They were going to set up an ambush, see if they could catch him in the cross fire while she distracted him, but it didn’t work.”

“What happened, Miara?” Ahsoka asked again.

“I wanted to go, too,” she said. “I know it was stupid, but I didn’t want us to get split up again. Kaeden didn’t want me to, and somehow she managed to tell Neera, and Neera shot me with a stunner. I was unconscious for whatever happened next, and when I woke up…”

She trailed off, horror in her eyes.

“They were all dead, Ahsoka,” Miara said. “All of them. Neera, the others. Kolvin—Kolvin was cut in half. It was the worst thing I’ve ever seen, and there wasn’t even a lot of blood.”

Ahsoka put her arm around Miara’s shoulder and held her close. It was exactly what she’d feared. The gray creature must have used her friends’ blasters against them, redirecting their shots. She’d done it herself, though she preferred to deflect bolts rather than reuse them. And Kolvin must have died on the creature’s lightsaber.

She gave herself a moment for grief. She might have prevented this, had she stayed, or her presence might have made everything even worse. There was no way to tell, so there was no reason to dwell on it. Ahsoka didn’t like this cold, compassionless side of her training, but she needed it now if she was going to get the job done.

Beside her, Miara was rocking back and forth. The girl was so scared and so worried, Ahsoka didn’t know if she could ask her for help. Maybe she ought to leave her and come back, if she could, once she was done. She dismissed the idea almost before she was finished thinking it. She couldn’t leave Miara behind. She owed it to Kaeden to do what she could, and she owed it to Miara, as well. She would see if she could sneak Miara back to Selda’s. The old Togruta would at least be able to feed her, and they could wait together.

“Miara,” Ahsoka said. “I need your help to rescue your sister.”

Miara looked up, shocked. “You’re really going to?” she said.

“That’s why I came back,” Ahsoka said. “Do you think you can help me?”

“Yes,” Miara said. “For Kaeden, I can help you.”

“I need you to put out this fire and then stay awake while I meditate,” Ahsoka said. “I’ll be defenseless, so I’ll need you to warn me if anything comes toward us. Can you do that?”

Miara nodded and started banking the fire. It would warm up as daylight approached, and the girl wouldn’t be cold for too long. Ahsoka didn’t have a cloak to loan her. She realized she had no idea where her cowl had ended up. Maybe she’d ask her new friend the senator for a nicer one.

“Focus, Ahsoka,” she muttered.

“What?” said Miara.

“Never mind,” Ahsoka said. “Just sit here. Are you ready?”

Miara nodded and sat up straight.

Ahsoka closed her eyes.

The first time, on Ilum, she hadn’t been able to find her crystal until she’d made the decision to trust Master Yoda’s instructions. After what had happened on her home planet when she was small, with the slaver posing as a Jedi, trust had not come easily to Ahsoka, even when her senses told her that she was in good company. The memory of the villagers’ scorn when she’d refused to demonstrate her powers for the false Jedi, the burning shame at her inability to explain the danger to her elders, had lingered with her.

But she’d let it go in that cave. She had decided to trust Yoda, and that had led her to her crystal. From then on, trust had been easier for her, because she’d learned to trust her own instincts again. She had even returned to Ilum later for a second crystal.

Right now, her instincts were telling her that the new crystals were going to want something else before they let her find them. And she thought she might have some idea what that was.

The differences between Bail’s organized rebellion and her operation on Raada had been stark. He wasn’t more successful because he was better than she was but because he had more to work with. With his access, she would be a valuable ally based on her experience alone, not even taking her powers into account. She had to be willing to work in a system again, to accept the order of common purpose and the camaraderie that went with it.

Her heart clenched. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t reforge connections with people who might betray her out of fear or because they had no choice. She couldn’t face the deaths of her friends again.