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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**IMPORTANT NOTICE IN THE AUTHOR'S NOTE – PLEASE READ IT!**
In the privacy of her comfortable little room in Bonteri Villa, Ahsoka dropped her transmitter carelessly onto her pillow, stood up, and stretched.
It had been a long day, aided in no way by the late night waiting up for Rex's reply and the promise of another early start for training the next morning. Despite that, she wasn't tired. Adrenaline coursed through her veins, fuelling her, pushing her to seek distractions lest the weight of the promises she'd made catch up to her, holding her down so the more painful things she'd just learned could swarm in.
She was itching for a run – the kind that cleared her head of everything but the burn in her chest and the deep ache in her muscles, and would knock her out the second her head touched the pillow.
As she tilted her head toward the brightly painted far wall to work a few kinks out of her neck, she glanced wistfully at the door. It was feasible, provided she didn't get close enough to the edge of the villa's protective ray shield to trip the proximity alarms and spook the guards. Grinning to herself, Ahsoka stuffed the transmitter under her mattress and sauntered up to the door.
Reality sank in again as her fingers brushed the control panel. Proper Jedi didn't go out for runs when they were restless; they meditated until they'd come to the heart of the issue plaguing them, and took any action needed to nullify the problem. Then, they let it go.
But Ahsoka had been an atypical Jedi long before she met Anakin, and if she had one solution that worked, why take a chance on another? Even now that the Force had lightened, and the shadow cast by that unknown something Ahsoka felt smoldering on the edges of her shields every now and then had vanished into the ether, she had to be careful. There were still hundreds of Elites on the planet.
She huffed, annoyed at her own hypocrisy and even more annoyed by how good she was at convincing herself. She'd already taken a bigger risk a few days ago with that healing trance than she ever would with simple meditation. She couldn't keep using her circumstances as an excuse to skip the parts of Jedi life she enjoyed less than others while still indulging in the rest. After all–
Lux's presence whipped past her and down the hallway beyond the door, seething with anger and self-deprecation. Using the Force to quiet the door as she opened it, she stuck her head out and glanced after him.
She was just in time to spot the edge of his cloak – a simple woolen grey one he wore around the villa for warmth rather than show – disappearing around the corner. Ahsoka smiled through her concern for him. Now she had the perfect excuse for going out: asking what was wrong and if she could do anything to help.
She stepped back inside for a warmer long-sleeved tunic to layer over her sleeping clothes. Then, slipping on a pair of boots, she hurried out after him.
