It's Commander Tano, Not Padawan

Chapter 20

Note: Just... trigger warnings ahead. Sorry, in advance. 

It was only a matter of mere minutes that, unbeknownst to our heroes, unwittingly repaved the path which their future strode upon. Upon which the galaxy's existence altered.

In those few minutes, three decisions were made: two by Ahsoka Tano and a single, last one by Anakin Skywalker.

After she had closed the comm channel with Anakin, Ahsoka closed her eyes for just one moment. A moment long enough for her to force oxygen into her lungs and out her nose – a moment to recenter on a single action.

Focus on the flow – on the connectedness of life. The air which you fill your lungs with weaving into the calming release. How that release is vital for the life around you – the trees towering above you and grass beneath you. Let your breath ground you, younglings.

It was a lesson she would remain forever indebted to.

Ahsoka diverted out of the traffic lane heading toward the Temple, durasteel grip curled around the thrusters.

That was decision number one.

The platform she landed on was devoid of sentient life beyond a couple of unaccompanied speeders and beings plodding along the main walkway, though they paid no mind to the relatively inconspicuous patrol gunship.

Though her stomach was engaged in an outright rebellion, she forced her face relax, only displaying a portion of her internal chaos. However, Ahsoka's movements, she could feel, were still much too jerky – stilted as they were by her brutally pounding heart.

Rapidly drowned out in the buzz of the air-vehicles soaring above, her armored boots thumped ominously, ringing in her ears as she made her way around toward the ramp.

Every movement she made, every sound she that nipped at her montrals hit her with an intensity which she was only accustomed to on the field of battle.

Fingers tapping out the code, Ahsoka treaded warily up to the hull, calling out her Captain's name though she already knew what she would be greeted with.

Silence which only the unconscious could accomplish.

Artificial light bathed the two men before her, shadows drawn long across their slack forms. Rex slumped against the durasteel door of the ship's storage space, pistol strewn discarded at his side.

Fives was still dead to the world on the hovercot, which allowed her to easily inject a standard issue detoxer into his bloodstream. Ahsoka wasn't sure if he had been drugged, but there had been something abnormal about his reactions: the twitchiness, the abrupt rage. Either way, it didn't hurt to try.

Their fate entirely in her hands.

It was with that thought in mind that she found the strength to begin deliberately closing off her bond with Anakin, weaving thread after thread over the particularly vulnerable points, each like a drop of water to the freshly planted seed of self-disgust in her chest.

Both Master and Padawan had done this before when their emotions grew too strong, too intense – though Anakin's method was closer to slamming up a wall of beskar, often times leaving his student almost light-headed from the hasty retreat.

He wouldn't question it.

He wouldn't suspect it was because she was lying to him.

Her eyes stilled on Fives and she sighed. Ahsoka would do what was needed to be done, same as her Master.

Steeling herself once more, Ahsoka opened the frequency she had just closed minutes ago and began to play the part she had set for herself. For Fives' sake.