Slaves Of The Empire {1}

One | Moving Forward

She almost reached out to touch Brakka's closed, orderly mind. Almost. But it had been so long since she'd used the Force in any real capacity, and if she failed...

Indecision stayed her hand a few seconds too long, and then the stewardess was crossing her arms behind her back and waddling back down the hallway – and any chance of more information with her. The guards remained, and from the leers on their faces Ahsoka had no doubt they intended to stay and watch them.

"Pigs," she muttered, and went to take the skimpy outfit one aide offered her. As Ahsoka shucked her sleeping tunic, Ashalla looked to her for reassurance. Ahsoka bit her lip, but kept her eyes down. She had not the heart to meet her gaze now.

It was an unusually cold morning, but even in the main hall of the manor the humidity hung thick and heavy on the air in such a way that Ahsoka knew it would be a scorching day once the sun came up. She hoped whatever money their master was getting out of this would be enough for a decent new climate control system.

Her conscience bristled at her callous train of thought, but Ahsoka was quick to shove it back down. Perhaps there was some hope for her yet if she wasn't totally desensitized to the plight of the oppressed after everything she'd been through. Either way, now was not the time to dwell on it.

The guards herded the girls into the room and into a line with the male slaves none too gently. To distract herself from their wandering hands, Ahsoka turned her focus to the arrival of the half-asleep stragglers who'd been off warming beds during the night. One of them, a Twi'lek male, came in with the master, as did... Anakin?

First Ahsoka felt like she was going to be sick. Then she thought she could fly.

Anakin's coming, her heart sang as she looked at the golden-haired man, Anakin's found me, he's here to rescue me – to rescue all of us and take us home...

The man stepped out of the backlit hall, and the illusion abruptly fizzled out. The height and hair were right, but the face was too gaunt, the eyes too lifeless a shade of grey, the skin too sickly pale for the likes of Anakin Skywalker. Even the rich brown cloak the man wore had padded shoulders to make him look bigger than he was. This had to be the Imperator's representative.

Ahsoka retreated behind her walls of ice, a necessary perversion of her old Jedi teachings to keep away the grief that should have overwhelmed her by now. Only there was it safe to think the bitter truth: Anakin was gone. Not dead, she hoped, but definitely not here. And as it always had during the Clone Wars, that left Ahsoka to pick up the slack and do what had to be done in his stead.

Her gaze slanted to the side before she could think about it, zeroing in on Ashalla's quaking form a few girls down from her. The representative walked the length of the line, eyeing each slave critically and tapping the occasional note into his datapad. Her heart sank when he gave Ashalla a long, appreciative look. Even as he moved on, it was obvious she was one of the chosen six.

The girl had no help available to her. Rape, torture and perhaps even death awaited her at Noreino House, even if seeing her cousin again beyond the odd comm call would give her a measure of comfort. Ahsoka owed her nothing, and yet...

She felt a hand on her shoulder, or a memory of one – not quite there, but still tangible – and she looked again at the golden-haired representative who was about to read his verdict aloud.

Onderon was worth something to the Empire. Ahsoka had seen as much in the amount of troops stationed even in smaller towns such as this one, and sensed as much in rogue flashes before she learned to keep her gifts properly under wraps. If the Imperator was as important to both the planet and the Empire as she'd heard, there was a good chance he'd have access to lots of top-secret information – the fates of fallen Jedi and the whereabouts of the survivors, for one.

It was a long shot, but the only shot she had at doing something after eleven months in chains. If nothing else, it would save poor Ashalla from the belly of the beast, and dangers against which Ahsoka was much better equipped.

Her mind made up, Ahsoka reached through the barriers she'd built to separate herself from the energy that danced in tune with her emotional center. At first, calling the Force back to her side was like grasping at half-dried mud: flaky and unyielding in some places, slippery and elusive in others. But she remembered how to move with it before long, and the muddiness faded into a slow-moving stream that was solid enough to grasp, should she wish it.

As the representative opened his mouth, she stood tall and proud. Her power was diminished, but sheer strength of will would make up for it. Then, she planted a single thought in his mind like a seed, urging it to grow until he could do nothing but look at her and know she is beautiful, she is desirable, she is worth hungering after.

She is beautiful, she is desirable, she is worth hungering after. The little Twi'lek girl does not compare. She is beautiful, she is desirable, she is worth–

"This one," the man said, pointing to her instead of Ashalla. By then all eyes were on Ahsoka: her pent-up power was getting the better of her and broadcasting the spillover into the other minds present, but she didn't dare relent. She couldn't risk losing the Imperator's representative until he'd made his other choices.

He went back down the line, choosing five others and motioning for them and their master to follow him. As Ahsoka moved into step behind him, she glanced back at Ashalla. The girl's wide eyes rapidly filled with tears as she watched the six of them go. She didn't know how, and couldn't begin to guess it, but Ahsoka could feel Ashalla knew what she'd done.

Thank you, Ashalla mouthed. Ahsoka managed to nod in answer before the nearest guard pushed her forward, and she had to turn away.

The sad but strangely hopeful smile the pretty Twi'lek had worn in that final moment stayed with Ahsoka all through the flight to Noreino House in Kyzeron, as much as the cuffs around her wrists ached and the sharp tang of the other girls' fear polluted what little air there was in the cramped cargo bay.

The stage is set for the tale about to unfold, and this chapter gave us a bit of context in terms of the emotional state and present circumstances of our main protagonist. Nearly two years have passed since the fall of the Republic, and the galaxy is a very different place – particularly on the planet Onderon. But who is this Lord Imperator whose name inspires so much fear? What is the nature of the deal Ahsoka's master made with him? Will Ahsoka's mission to find information about her friends at his residence succeed? Only time will tell...

*starts humming 'Icy' by Kim Petras* Now I got an ice cold heart... Or Ahsoka does, anyway.

I took a lot of cues from the Star Wars: Ahsoka novel when (re)writing this chapter. In the book Ahsoka spends a long time as a muted version of herself unwilling to get close to anyone save in professional settings for her own safety. Reaching into the Force is painful for her because the emptiness of it reminds her of everything she's lost.

The fall of the Republic and the Jedi happened differently in SOTE, and meditating isn't as painful for Ahsoka here, but using her powers is still dangerous. Ahsoka's been beaten down and only survived it by retreating inward, but hey, I think the fact that she took action and saved someone means there's hope for her. I guess we'll have to see if it's a continuing trend...