𝗔𝗵𝘀𝗼𝗸𝗮 𝗧𝗮𝗻𝗼

Chapter Nine

"Ow!" Ahsoka hissed under her breath, muttering a few choice words that Anakin had told her not to say, despite him using them constantly.

She let the broken glass land back on the tray it had come from, before grabbing her hand to staunch the thick stream of red dripping down her palm.

What in the world?

She glared at the broken cup before examining the damage done to her hand.

It really wasn't that bad — she had definitely had worse, she knew, so, rolling her eyes, she stuck her bleeding hand under the hot stream of water coming from the sanitizer.

Nice going, Ahsoka. Real attentive.

She shook her head slightly in exasperation at her own distracted mistake. Her thoughts had been so consumed with the Twi'leks warning of sorts, that she hadn't been paying enough attention to her exterior surroundings.

Honestly, Ahsoka really didn't know what to think about what the Twi'lek had told her. Immediately after the words had left her mouth, Darra had seemed almost as taken aback as Ahsoka, and fled quickly, leaving Ahsoka blinking in surprise for a few moments.

A lot of what the Twi'lek had said confirmed what Ahsoka had been feeling. Stay under the radar. Yep, that was definitely on Ahsokas list of objectives.

She wondered if the reason she was dwelling to much on Darras words was because she missed having the guidance that came with experience and age.

At the Temple, there had always been someone older, wiser, or more experienced whose reassuring presence alleviated the stress and anxiety that came with being alone and unsure, even if Ahsoka did not call on them directly for help.

Now, though, Ahsoka was alone.

And because of that, Darra was really the only basis of knowledge she had currently, even if the Twi'lek was a bit closed off and harsh. She figured it was almost like a substitute, of sorts, that at least gave her some idea of what was happening, no matter how vague or indifferent said substitute was.

Almost as a humorless joke, Ahsoka wondered if there had been some pamphlet or book that she had missed. How an Ex-Jedi Survives in the Lower Levels: a Guide. Maybe she should have double checked the archives before turning her back on the one stable thing in her life, amongst all the warfare and chaos.

Almost out of bitter irony she imagined the scene. Sorry, I'm not coming back, but before I go, could I just borrow that one book?

The pathetic attempt at a joke did nothing to lessen the hard lump in her throat that appeared whenever she thought of the past few days, the cold block of ice chilling her chest, suffocating her lungs, or the tight knot in her stomach that had appeared at the start of the ordeal, and had yet to be vanquished.

Of course, Ahsoka wasn't that naive. She just really wished she could have some guidance.

She missed the security of always having someone backing her up, or knowing someone who was more sure than she was about something.

She missed being able to ask Anakin, or Obi-Wan, or Rex, or even Yoda her questions; missed turning to them when she was unsure.

Now, she had no second opinion or reassurance that she was doing the correct thing — just her intuition — and maybe an indifferent Twi'lek, she reminded herself, though she wasn't sure how Darra would take to being asked any questions that she might deem irrelevant.

Ahsokas eyes glazed over as she was lost in thought again. The exhaustion of just everything was starting to impede on her focus. She would need to rest soon, she knew, but she convinced herself that she had enough energy, or willpower, to keep going until she had a firmer grasp on the situation.