Cold Blooded: Ahsoka x Reader

Showdown in the Senate

Y/N took a deep breath, his heart still racing from the recent chaos. The underlevels of Coruscant felt both like a labyrinth of shadows and a maze of opportunity. But he couldn't stay in his damaged ship for long—the tracker could still pick up signals from the vicinity. He needed to abandon it. "Alright, time to move," he said firmly, shaking off the lingering adrenaline rush and moving with purpose. Y/N powered down the remaining systems, securing his weapons and gear before stepping out of the cockpit. The faint echoes of the chase faded into the background, but the urgency clung to him like a heavy cloak. He moved swiftly through the maintenance facility, scanning his surroundings for an exit that would lead him to a less conspicuous location. As he rounded a corner, he spotted a service ladder leading up to the system's access routes—a potential way to escape unnoticed. After a quick climb, he found himself back out on the bustling streets of Coruscant, the ambient noise drowning out the sounds of his earlier escape. Just a few blocks over, he spotted a line of parked speeders, a mix of private and governmental models abandoned amidst the clamor of everyday city life. He felt a surge of hope as he approached an unassuming speeder—a battered old model that seemed to be salvaged from the refuse of the more affluent citizens. Its dull green paint was peeling, but the engine looked intact. "Here's to second chances," Y/N muttered, quickly scanning the area for witnesses before sliding into the driver's seat. He punched the ignition, and the speeder roared to life, vibrations humming through his body. The thrill of speed surged back into him; this was freedom. With a squeeze of the throttle, he shot forward, navigating through the maze of Coruscant's underbelly. As the lights of the city zipped past, he kept a sharp eye on the streets and sky. The Senate was not far, but given the situation, he needed a distraction before moving in. "You can do this," he whispered to himself, focusing on the route ahead. But only minutes into the flight, the speeder began to stutter. With a grumbling sputter, it lost power. Alarms blared in protest as the dashboard lit up like Coruscant's skyline. "No, no, no! Not now!" Y/N slammed down on the controls, coaxing the vehicle to stabilize when—pop!—the engine coughed ominously, and the speeder lurched to a halt, sending him sprawling forward against the dashboard. "Damn it!" He glanced around quickly. He was in an alleyway leading from the underlevels to a more populated surface road, but the nearest obstruction loomed over him—a tall, dusty building where he could easily hide. He stepped out, assessing the damaged speeder with annoyance. Smoke trailed from the engine housing, and he could see sparks glimmering. "This isn't good," he muttered, kicking the side of the speeder in frustration. It was a risk leaving it here, but staying put also meant inevitable capture. Suddenly, his thoughts were interrupted by the distant echoes of the city's commotion filtering through the walls. The Senate meeting was truly buzzing; he could feel the tension even from here. The approach of footsteps in the alleyway jolted him back into focus. Not wanting to wait around for a clone patrol or some random pedestrian to find him, Y/N made a split-second decision. "Not going to get caught here," he thought, scrambling to gather a few essentials before making a hasty retreat into the depths of the adjoining building. He glanced back just in time to see a pair of gangsters scanning the speeder, silhouetted against the pale lights of the alleyway. "Quick, keep moving," he urged himself, disappearing into the shadows that danced along the walls. Inside, the building felt abandoned—a whisper of what once had been. The air was thick with dust, and structural beams clashed with the remnants of old machinery and discarded equipment that littered the floor. Y/N wandered deeper into the structure, trying to remain as quiet as possible while searching for a way to either create a distraction or find another means of transport. The murmurs from the outside faded, and it seemed like he made a fortunate escape, but he couldn't shake the feeling that time was not on his side. His eye caught a glimmer of light seeping from a doorway at the end of the corridor. Walking cautiously, he tightened his grip on his blaster. Whatever was behind the door could be a risk, but staying here would leave him vulnerable. As he pushed the door open, it creaked loudly, and he peeked inside. The space beyond was filled with old maintenance droids, their limbs still and lifeless in the dim light, but one of them caught his attention. A battered but functional speeder in the far corner was practically begging to be used—less conspicuous and better maintained than the last. "Now we're talking," he murmured. With a careful sweep of the surroundings, Y/N maneuvered inside, scanning the speeder's systems as he rolled up the door. The cockpit door was slightly ajar as he inspected the controls—the droid's former owner must have been a mechanic, as the speeder was outfitted with some impressive tech. He punched the ignition, and the speeder came to life, humming eagerly. With a grin of satisfaction, Y/N steered it out of the maintenance shed and onto the main thoroughfare. "Alright, time to head to the Senate," he declared, the excitement bubbling within him as the city sped by. Surrounded by the waves of citizens, all unaware of the unfolding conspiracy, he knew he had a chance—a shot at taking down Orn Free Taa and making a stand for Ryloth. But as he navigated through the streets, fate took another twisted turn. The speeder began to sputter once more, the engine whining in protest before it abruptly started losing power. "No, not again!" Y/N howled in frustration. He pulled over to the side, dismounting briefly to search for the problem. As he tried to investigate the engine, he felt panic creeping back in. The overhead lights of Coruscant flickered ominously, and he could sense the shadows closing in. "Come on, be something simple," he muttered, ripping open a panel beneath the controls. He discovered a wire sparking furiously, desperately needing a fix he didn't have the time to make. Salvaging his resolve, Y/N swore under his breath. "Surely these glow-sentient droids left something for me to work with!" Just as he was sorting through tools on the dashboard, the distinct sound of an approaching clone trooper gunship echoed from around the above. They were relentless and closing in fast. "Just great," he muttered, quickly stuffing his tools back into place. He had to think on his feet—get out and regroup. Taking a final glance at the speeder, he reluctantly abandoned it, bolting down the alley with all his might. Ahead was a series of stairways leading up toward the more crowded levels. Every breath ignited a fire in his chest. He doubted he could outrun the clones if they saw him, but he resolved to find another way. "Come on, come on," he breathed, pushing himself forward, determined to find a diversion. If he was going to make a stand, he needed all the resources he could muster. As he sprinted up the steps, the clamor of the city rose around him, drowning out the chatter of impending doom. A derelict building rose above him, with scrappers wandering inside and coming out with strips of metal to create new buildings. Y/N saw one enter yet another alley, and quietly followed him, waiting for an opportunity to strike. As he began looking through a chest filled with cheap spice. "Drugs, really?" Y/N muttered, before slamming the hilt of his vibroblade into the man's head. Y/N grabbed his ID and pass to the site, and wandered inside.