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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"What's going on here?" Lux demanded as he stepped forward, the words low and cold. Ahsoka felt her eyes widen. Could she make some sort of excuse and get him out of the way before he made a mess of things? She really doubted it.
"That's the Lord Imperator's son, ain't it?" the brigand furthest from her hissed nervously. His teeth and gums were blackened by years of glitterstim abuse.
"Yes." She tamping down an unexpected upsurge of anger at even such an offhand reference to Lux's rank – he was more than some silly, entitled boy. Pitching her voice so high it squeaked and trembled with relief, she added, "He's my master."
Lux met her gaze for a split-second as he stepped forward, his every muscle coiled and ready to spring beneath a façade of austere rigidity.
"Jek, let's get outta here, or there's gonna be trouble with Lord Noreino," one of the two former sentinels croaked. There were some murmurs of agreement from two others – and then, quickly enough to make a smile nearly break through her carefully crafted look of fear, they began backing away.
"Cowards!" the Human woman shrieked, and threw her flask after them. As it clattered to the floor, she stumbled closer to Lux and jabbed a finger at his chest. "Someone's gotta teach this sniveling sonuvabitch a lesson, anyway. His father's always saying it, that he's gotta man up and– and learn how the galaxy works."
A muscle jumped in Lux's jaw. "Watch your mouth."
The woman pushed a few stringy locks hair out of her face and leaned closer to him. "In fact, Lordy Zakhan'd probably thank us for showing this here pup who he needs to be in this new Empire."
Lux hesitated, his posture tightening, but at the critical second when Ahsoka was certain he would raise his hand, he went lax. His eyes flashed up to meet hers, and when she saw something like an apology there, she understood. He was banking on her fighting skills to get them out so he wouldn't be forced to strike the first blow – never mind that she'd said she wasn't a fighter. The woman's words had created an impasse where no one could move for fear of attack now or retribution later.
Damn your ethics, Ahsoka thought for the umpteenth time. Forsaking the old formality of a snippy one-liner, she snapped her arm up with all the power she'd been holding in reserve. Thanks to some last-minute calibrations with her montrals, her aim was as true as ever, and her elbow struck the Twi'lek squarely on the nose.
He fell back with a howl of pain, letting go of Ahsoka completely to cradle his injured face. Before he could get too far out of range, she shifted her stance and kicked him in the ribs hard enough to send him sprawling into the Human woman. They collided gracelessly and landed in a dazed, misshapen pile at Lux's feet.
"Contemplate the morality of the situation later, would you?" Ahsoka called over to him when she didn't hear him move. "I can't take them all on my own!"
That was a lie, of course. But even if this little incident forced her to show her hand, she could still stuff a few cards up her metaphorical sleeve to keep them out of sight. Let Lux believe what he wanted to about her fighting ability – if he stepped in, she'd have to do little that might confirm her true level of skill.
