Umbara: One-Shot with Ahsoka

Umbara Aftermath

Disclaimer & Note: Not my characters, but I love them dearly. Except Krell. And yes, yes, I know I should be finishing my two other fanfictions first. Sorry. 

________________________________________________________________________________

Ahsoka didn't blink. Didn't think.

The hum of a saber that was most certainly not her own forced a reaction out of her – an instinctual need to protect – that arose from a deep, primal part of her.

Her words were guttural. A snarl with fangs bared in a vicious curl of her lip.

"Do not threaten my men."

Krell's blue tip was mere inches from slicing Rex's throat.

Ahsoka's weapon was outstretched, paralleled in a flawless reflection of the Master's actions.

The green light was close enough to reflect off the leathery, bulbous sac of skin hanging from the overgrown frog's face.

"Ahsok -"

She didn't have the ability to take face Krell and protect her Captain at the same time. Clenching her jaw, the Togruta's eyes never left the dark glare staring back at her.

"Stand down, Captain, and get your men out."

"But, sir -"

There was no time for debate.

Growling, she ground out, "Now, Rex."

There was an instant of hesitation – an instant where Ahsoka brutally suffocated the urge to scream at him to please, Force, just leave – before she saw, out of the corner of her eye, his armored boots shuffle back and angry voice ring out in the control room.

"Pull back, men."

Though she physically did not relax a hair's breadth, Ahsoka internally heaved a sigh of relief.

Now she only had to worry about herself.

Krell's gullet bounced dangerously close as boots stamped out of the room. "You would dare threaten me? A mere Padawan?" He rumbled as the door slid shut with a foreboding hiss.

Ahsoka was done with his disrespect. His dishonor.

Cold and steady, thoughts of possible repercussions marched through her mind, but she knew what she had to do, kriff the consequences. It was the right thing to do.

"You will explain your action, Master." Ahsoka spit the word out, bitter on her tongue. He did not deserve that title.

Stepping back, Krell pulled his meaty hands behind his back, an extinguished hilt resting within them and strolled to the window. Casual, as though he did not have a lightsaber pointed at him, words began dripping from his lips like tar, sticky and dark.

"You'll find, youngling, I do not need to do anything I don't want to. However, I think it'll be fitting for you to learn my reasoning before I kill you and you men, branded as traitors to the Republic."

Ahsoka bared her teeth once more. One part of her roared like an inferno, hot under her skin, but her other half – that which Master Kenobi had groomed most between her two Masters – flowed from her, cool and aloof.

"The only traitor here is you."

A poisonous chuckle spewed from him.

"Perhaps. But I am far beyond simple Republic versus Separatists. The true war is between the Light and the Dark." He paused, adjusting a hand to grip the handle of his second lightsaber.

Ahsoka could feel the pulse of the Force anxious around them. What happened here was vital. She may not have the ability to sense Shatterpoints like Master Windu, but their actions would change future.

That much was plain to see.

________________________________________________________________________________

"You know you will not win this battle, youngling."

Ahsoka grinned viciously, adrenaline racing through her. She knew that. "No, likely not. But Anakin doesn't take well to having his family harmed. So, if you kill me, I can swear on the Force that my Master will not let you live." Her smug vindictiveness goaded at him.

His eyes narrowed and a roar erupted from him as he raced toward her.

________________________________________________________________________________

Ahsoka watched as Rex put a bullet through Krell's brain.

She smiled, well aware that the satisfaction seeping through her blood was very much not worthy of a Jedi.

Ahsoka didn't care. Rex deserved to hear the thud of his dead weight slam face first against the unforgiving floor.

Cetar. That's for my brothers, cheeskar nok.

________________________________________________________________________________

The world around her swayed as Kix rewrapped her bandage with a fresh layer of bacta on the stump of her left lek.

Pain pulsed from her wound, but Ahsoka simply grit her teeth. She had nothing to complain about. Her men had died under her watch.

There were rows on rows of dead men, eyes closed, facing the dark Umbara sky. Their helmets tucked neatly under their arms.

Bile clawed a burning trail up her throat with only a second of warning. Ripping herself from the medic's steady hands, the Jedi fell on her knees, hands smashing the grimy ground beneath her as vomit choked its way out of her.

It was just acid.

She gagged.

My men. Hardcase. Oz. Ringo. Jets. Blaze. Astro. Mecha. Karking hell, some of them didn't even have names yet. I don't even know all their names and they're dead.

Tears mixed with spit and strings of slime hung from her mouth.

The blaster bolts seemed almost normal if it wasn't for the fact a brother had likely put that lethal wound there.

Another empty retch resounded in the sickly air.

I don't deserve to cry. Not here. Not now. Kriff.

It was the lightsaber slashes across their suits – burnt, black, and cauterized that broke her.

Shredded the little restraint she had left.

That could have been Kix, Tup. It was almost Jesse and Fives.

That could have been Rex.

Claws dug into her montrals, sending searing streaks of pain coursing through her. Ahsoka sobbed into her knees, unable to stop the continuous upheaval of her stomach that raw and sour in air, assaulting her senses.

She felt like she was falling, spiraling out of control and she couldn't stop it.

The apologies fell from her mouth, but they felt empty – shallow. There was nothing she could do to bring these men back and she should have been better.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry – Rex – I'm sorr –"

It was an avalanche of her pain – her sorrow her regret. But –

It's not good enough. 

________________________________________________________________________________

Translation: "Cetar. That's for my brothers, cheeskar nok." : Cetar is Mando'a - kneel in submission. Cheeskar nok is Huttese - betrayer scum.