The Padawan and the Rebel

The Youngling: Purpose

"Where?" she breathed.

"Christophsis. There's a separatist invasion going on, and we have to stop it." She was pretty much thrumming with excitement.

Adhara's mouth went dry, a question poised on her lips. One she knew she had to ask, but was afraid to. Because Ahsoka had been beside her side for nine years, and now this was the end. She had to know how many hours, how many minutes she had left with her friend.

But at the same time, she didn't want to know. She wanted to be suspended in this moment for forever, so Ahsoka would never leave and Adhara's heart would never break.

"When do you go?" She breathed.

"Tomorrow at dawn."

It was later than Adhara expected, but still it made her heart twang. She looked at Ahsoka, absorbing her features - that orange-red skin, the colour of dusk, blue eyes that seemed to glow in the dark like a lightsaber at night, head tails that dipped passed her shoulder. Sometimes when Adhara was bored she would find herself sketching out the markings on Ahsoka's face, swirling along the page in intricate detail.

And now she would be gone. That orange skin, those blue eyes that peered at her through the night, that mouth that curled into a sly smile that promised Adhara chaos if she took her hand.

But it was also the mouth that whispered stories to her when she was four and couldn't sleep because of the memories haunting her. Those were the hands that held hers when she drifted off to sleep, when the temple had been to much, and Ahsoka had taken her hand and guided her through. Hands that had once been soft and silky, now calloused from wielding her saber. But they were still Ahsoka's hands. And she was still the girl who had stepped into Adhara's life when she needed her most and helped her.

And now she would be gone.

Adhara fought back panic, fought back pain, trying not to let her emotions show through her eyes, but she had never hidden anything from Ahsoka. Ahsoka, who had become home when she had been wrenched from Eshan, from her family.

She didn't know how to be, how to exist, without Ahsoka by her side.

And that, she realized, was probably why she wasn't a padawan.

What had Master Yoda said to them over and over again? That to harbor connections with another person made you vulnerable to the dark side. That any kind of emotion led to fear and hatred, to the dark side, and that having a relationship with someone was the first step to that. To be attached to someone led to jealously and fear of loss, Master Yoda said. It's better to trust in yourself, and in the Force.

But Adhara had ignored him. She'd told herself Ahsoka was different, for no other reason than because Adhara could not imagine her life without her. Because Ahsoka was there when she woke up and when she went to sleep, and she couldn't understand how a friendship that made her so happy could be anything but good.

But now... now her eyes were opened as fear ricocheted through her, exactly as Yoda had warned it would. Because Ahsoka would be gone, gone, gone, and Adhara would be here.

Missing her.

Becoming exactly what Yoda had warned her not to become.

She would never become a padawan if she continued to harbor these feelings. and Ahsoka? She was already a padawan, which meant she felt nothing towards Adhara. She would move on, and forget her.

It hurt more than Adhara cared to admit. It was a punch to her stomach. It made bile rise up her throat.

Purpose over passion, she reminded herself. Purpose over everything.

And that included Ahsoka.

So she inclined her head, swallowing down everything. Resolving to be better. Her voice was serene as she spoke. "Well then, may the Force be with you, padawan Tano."

Ahsoka's smile was like the sun. "Perhaps we will meet again."

The words wrenched Ahsoka's gut. Broke her heart into pieces. But all she said was, "Perhaps."

***

For the first time in eleven years, Adhara couldn't sleep.

Words thundered and screamed in her head like a storm, in the lilt of Ahsoka's voice. Adhara flinched with each syllable.

We're in this together. You can count on me.

We will save the galaxy, Adhara.

I don't need saving. But I always need you.

Had they all just been lies, whispered in her weakest moments? Had they truly meant nothing? Had she meant nothing at all to the Togruta who had become her home?

On the bunk above her, Ahsoka shifted, sleeping peacefully. Her last night in the dormitory.

Her last night with Adhara, and she slept through it, as if it did not matter.

As if she did not matter.

Adhara rolled over, and for the first time since she was four, let the tears fall, let the emotions, the pain, the anguish, consume her and break her and rip her soul apart. She allowed herself to become glass, and let her emotions hold the hammer, splintering her into a thousand pieces. And each crack of the glass was Ahsoka's name, each shard of glass the broken heart her friend had unknowingly ripped apart.

Adhara gave herself this one moment. This one night.

And then she pieced herself back together, into a wobbly, messy version of who she was before. Commanded her tears to stop falling. And then forced herself to be better.

Purpose over Passion.

Perhaps, over time, she would forget Ahsoka, too. Perhaps she would just be a distant memory.

Purpose over everything.

And the hurt would be less, because Adhara would make it that way. She would become the Jedi she was destined to become.

Purpose over passion.

But first...to forget. To let go.

Purpose over everything.

To become nothing but a Jedi.

Purpose over passion. Purpose over everything.

"Goodbye, Ahsoka," she whispered. "May the Force be with you."

The bunk above her was silent as the night.