The Republic has fallen.
In the final days of the Clone Wars, Chancellor Palpatine died under mysterious circumstances. With the Senate struggling to retain a sense of unity, it was the perfect time for the Separatists to strike. And strike they did...
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Far beneath her, sandwiched between the plush mattress in Lux's bedroom and its frame, Ahsoka's transmitter pulsed a familiar pattern. She stirred at the faint tremor and kicked the sheets off her body, slogging back to wakefulness as quickly as she could manage.
The remnants of her midday nap clung to her every step of the way, and getting a thought from one synapse to the next felt like wading through knee-deep mud. She groaned as she pulled the dull grey device from its hiding place. That was the last time she messaged Rex for four of the six hours she usually spent sleeping – even if it was one of his rare days off.
Ahsoka entered the commands to establish a link with the caller, Bail Organa, but put the connection on hold before any greetings were exchanged. She'd already discussed new protocols for communicating with him – protocols meant to make the best of the added difficulties Noreino House presented. He'd understand her silence meant she was ready to talk; she only had to get to a more secure location.
Even if 'secure' was a very relative assessment for any part of the palace.
She tugged on a pair of sandals she'd left at the foot of the bed and padded to the door, reaching for her shawl as she passed the coat rack near Lux's little walk-in closet. She paused when she found the velvet-within-silk of one of his capes instead.
She recognized it by feel as the one he'd worn this morning for a meeting with the foremen of some of his father's construction projects. He'd spent long enough fussing with the clasp at his neck to get frustrated, his fingers delicate by most standards but still too large to fit the pieces together when one was bent out of shape. She'd gone over to help him, and the luxurious fabric under her skin had been as enthralling as the frantic hummingbird thrum of his heartbeat below.
He'd pulled away quickly after that. He hadn't let her close to him for more than a moment since they'd returned to Kyzeron two days before.
The longer she stood there, her nails digging into the cape, the more she was aware of the way it smelled. What started as the faintest whiff of citrus and herbs in her nostrils, easily dismissed, soon came out in full force.
It wasn't as strong as it had been three nights ago as they'd lain curled up on the blanket on the grounds, or even on that impromptu walk where she'd caved and allowed him to embrace her, desperate for comfort. But it was still so rich and flavorful she could almost taste it – taste him.
Ahsoka's mouth watered. She swallowed quickly, disgusted with herself, and left Lux's apartments in such a hurry she forgot her shawl entirely.
She turned transmitter's speaker down as low as it would go and tightened its range to pick up only the sound of her voice. Then, pushing the button to resume the call, she tucked the device into her bodice and out of sight.
"This is Origin. Fulcrum, do you read me?" Senator Organa inquired. Ahsoka suspected his codename was a reference to being one of the four Republic Senators who held the key to EF-4, but she wasn't going to ask. Unconfirmed suspicions gave her the freedom to lie while technically telling the truth, should she ever find herself on the business end of an Elite storm trooper's electrostaff.
