Alternate Start (ARCHIVE)

Chapter Thirty Eight: Ground to Cover

((TW: The next couple of chapters (this one and the next one mainly) handle Kaar's past trauma of enslavement under the Empire. It's not pretty in the slightest, so skip this arc if you must. His dredged up trauma is gonna drag into quite a few chapters after, so be prepared. He's in the situation in both this and the next chapter, and you can skip to chapter 40 for the aftermath.))

"Nonsense, you handled it perfectly well without me Obi-wan." Kaar chuckled.

Obi-wan crossed his arms. "Well I thank you for your confidence, but you could have given me some warning, you know."

Kaar simply shrugged, smiling a little. "I do thank you for allowing me to come along I just... I couldn't let little Ahsoka go alone this time. Besides, I was a slave myself. I know how this works."

"Well, Master Plo did have some concerns. Are you sure you can keep yourself stable?"

"Of course I can. I survived ARC Training, and it's been almost twenty four years since I was a slave in the first place. But I remember how my father used to have to..." he furrowed his eyebrows then shrugged off a shudder, "Doll himself up. Thankfully by doing it himself my sister was spared from such fates."

The memory of his father's worry was fresh in his mind. Kaar's mother had been beautiful, that much was uncontested. His sister, Dasni Sal Jaeth, The Teacher, had been even more so. It was more unsettling, the older he got. How ready they had been to get their hands on her, starting when he was three. She had been only sixteen at her time of death, he had been six.

Ahsoka reminds him so much of her.

He wouldn't let her get hurt.

—
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Ahsoka glanced at Master Sunna. He had seemed to know exactly how to wear these clothes. All she knew was that he supposedly knew his way around the slave trade. He stared ahead quietly. Rex didn't keep his grip tight on the chain connected to the collar around Master Sunna's throat, but Master Sunna's hackles, a trail of blond fur up the back of his tail, were sticking straight up.

She gave him a concerned look. He didn't seem to notice until she cleared her throat. "Master Sunna?" She whispered.

He jolted, looking down, "Apologies, were you asking me something, Padawan Tano?"

She did have a question actually.
"Why is that collar necessary?"

"Well, Kaleesh have a reputation of being mindless, war mongering beasts with no self control. It came from the Huk wars, where my people were enslaved by the Yam'rii and by some odd sequence of events, the Republic thought that the Kaleesh were the aggressors. It was a tradition to gift Yam'rii mandibles to those you considered a father figure. So, I see where the stereotype came from..."

"That's... horrible."

"Indeed, Padawan. It is. It wasn't as if the Yam'rii were much better than us. They ate our eggs, regardless of if they contained a child or not. Kaleesh are very proud of their hair, so to break them, it was always cut off. And — before you ask — yes. It was done to me as well. Myself, my mother, my sister, and my father."

He noticed her sympathetic look, and continued.

"I came along so I could keep you safe. This isn't going to be the walk in the park you think it will be. If things go awry then they will try and break you. Don't let them."