Chapter Text
“I understand you feel defeated, but I've learned to see things differently. There’s a future for us, one where we're all free. But it's up to us to make it happen.”
—Kanan Jarrus
No matter what else in the galaxy changed, sunset on Coruscant was always beautiful, the sky streaked with fuchsia and orange that lit everything in the Temple gold.
Ahsoka scurried through the halls, bowing quickly to the Masters and Knights and waving at her fellow Padawans. This time of day was her favorite, when classes and meetings had just ended and the Temple corridors were bustling with beings.
The chatter and camaraderie were a relief after the grueling campaign on Vjun Minor, where she had commanded a fleet of starfighters to support Master Kenobi’s troops on the ground. They had triumphed in the end, but she had lost Glider and Carrion, and their deaths were still weighing heavily on her.
The path to Master Skywalker’s quarters was comforting in its familiarity. Though she knew his entry codes, she hit the door chime out of courtesy.
“Yeah?” Master Skywalker called, his voice faint through the durasteel.
“I’ve returned, Master,” Ahsoka said.
“Well, come on in!”
When she entered the room, he was pushing goggles up onto his head, soot smeared on his cheek. Most Jedi’s quarters were fairly empty, tidy and lacking personal effects—Ahsoka’s own included—but Master Skywalker’s had a spray of podracing posters on the wall; display models of various spaceships were littered around the room, and tools and dismantled droid parts covered every other surface. Being here always comforted her, made her bond with Master Skywalker sing.
“Hey, Snips,” he said. He seemed to have been welding something at his desk; it looked like a protocol droid’s servo. “You’re back sooner than I expected.”
Ahsoka put a hand on her hip and cocked it, grinning as she said, “Yeah, well, you should know better than to underestimate me.”
Master Skywalker smiled back at her, but there was something hollow in his eyes, and she could feel his conflict through the Force.
“What’s wrong?” she immediately asked.
Master Skywalker rubbed his temple. He gestured for her to sit on one of the many crates in the room. “We lost Master Tiplar on Ringo Vinda.”
Sympathy bubbled in her. Though they didn't know each other very well, Master Tiplar had always been kind to her, and she was renowned for her bravery, always leading her men from the front.
“We'll get those clankers next time, Master,” she said, thumping her fist to her palm.
Master Skywalker shook his head. “It wasn’t the Separatists—she was shot by one of our own.”
“What?” Ahsoka gasped. “A traitor?”
“We’re not sure. Tup seemed to just suddenly lose it on the battlefield."
“No,” Ahsoka whispered. Not sweet, anxious Tup, who was quietly clever and blushed whenever she congratulated him on a job well done.
“I’ve seen other soldiers get overwhelmed and become confused on the battlefield," Master Skywalker said grimly. “But to kill a general—I don’t know. Something’s not adding up.”
“Where is he now?”
“Kix couldn’t figure out what was wrong, so we sent Tup to Kamino. But his escort was ambushed by the Separatists—a whole squadron of commando droids showed up.”
Ahsoka frowned. “Why would the Separatists waste a squadron of commando droids on retrieving a single trooper?”
“I wondered the same thing,” Master Skywalker said. “So Rex, Fives, and I pursued them, and we eventually got Tup out of there and over to Kamino. He’s there now, with Fives.”
She heaved a sigh of relief. “I hope he’ll be okay. They’ll be able to help him, right?”
“I hope so,” Master Skywalker said. “I don’t know, though, Ahsoka: He seemed pretty out of it and said he didn’t remember what had happened. But Kix said his vitals seemed perfectly healthy.”
Just as she was going to respond, her wrist comlink buzzed. “Tano speaking.”
“Hey, Commander,” Broadside said, barely audible over the busy chaos of Coruscant’s streets, “me and the boys are going to 79’s to commemorate Glider and Carrion. We were wondering if you’d be interested in joining us.”
Ahsoka looked up and cocked her head. “Master, do you need me for anything tonight?”
“No, you deserve a break,” Master Skywalker said, shaking his head. “Go, have some fun before we’re sent on another mission. And toast Glider and Carrion for me. They were good men—and impressive pilots.”
Ahsoka nodded. “We will. Thanks, Master. Keep me posted about Tup?”
Master Skywalker nodded. “I will,” he promised.
Over the comlink, Ahsoka said, “I’d like that, Broadside. I’m still at the Temple, though. Give me half an hour to meet you there?”
“Sure, Commander, our ETA is 0800,” Broadside said, perking up at her acceptance. “Feel free to join us at your convenience, sir.”
Fives surveyed the bar, desperately looking for someone he knew—someone who might believe his impossible story and help him contact Rex and General Skywalker. The room was dim, though, lit only by neon, and the pulsing bodies and throbbing music made his head hurt.
There.
At the other end of the bar, Jesse and Kix sat shoulder to shoulder, turned toward each other and smiling indulgently. Fives hesitated for a click, reluctant to interrupt their date. He knew they never got as much time alone together as they wanted.
But a moment later, Kix got up, laying a hand on Jesse’s shoulder briefly, then made his way through the crowd. Fives sighed in relief when he saw he was heading for the refresher—an opportunity.
Careful not to alarm anyone around him with hasty movements, he plastered a neutral expression on his face and wove his way to the refresher as well.
Kix was the only being inside. He stood at the sink, primping himself in the mirror, checking his immaculately trimmed hair and brushing invisible dust off his armor. Fives didn’t know why he bothered, given that he was already bonded to the only being he had ever had eyes for, and Jesse was still as obsessed with him as he'd been as a shiny.
“So I guess the 501st is back on Coruscant?” Fives said, testing the situation gingerly. He didn’t want to alarm Kix and risk his presence being reported. Once, Fives had trusted his brothers completely. But nothing had been the same after Umbara.
“Oh, yeah,” Kix said easily. “We just got back from Ringo Vinda. The strangest thing happened out there.”
Approaching him, Fives removed his cap. “Yeah. I know.”
Kix gasped. “Fives?” He backed up, his clumsy movement belying his tipsiness. “Whoa. What’s going on? They say you tried to assassinate the Chancellor, and you’re infected with that virus that killed Tup.”
“I don’t have time to explain right now,” Fives said, leaning on the sink. His head was muddy, and he felt like the details were slipping out of his grasp. “All I can tell you is—is that I’m being framed. All of us, even the Jedi, are in grave danger.”
“But—but w-what can I do, Fives?” Kix said, taken aback. “How can I help?”
Good ol’ Kix, always going out of his way to help his brothers. “I need to talk to Rex,” Fives said. “Or...or General Skywalker.”
"Well, they’ve been tasked with finding you. Just—just turn yourself in!”
“No!” He grasped Kix’s shoulders, terror surging through him at the thought. “No, I’ll never get to them. You don’t understand. What I’m mixed up in—it goes all the way to the top. The highest levels are involved in the conspiracy. I have to talk to General Skywalker and Rex directly. Alone.”
He shoved Kix away, suddenly doubting this plan. Rex might believe him, but what if the General didn’t? Everyone knew he was close with the Chancellor. As one of the longest-serving soldiers of the 501st, Fives had considered himself close to the General as well—but he was a clone. His experience on Kamino had reminded him that clones were not to be saved, not to be believed, not to be kept around if they caused any sort of problems. There, reconditioning wasn’t just the vague threat brothers threw around when they were being teased. And now it wouldn’t be for him here on Coruscant either.
“Look, I can contact Rex,” Kix said gently, watching with concern as Fives spiraled, “but I can’t guarantee he’ll bring the General.”
“Well, that’s good, good,” Fives said. It was better than nothing. Maybe it would be better if the General didn’t come—for Rex to be the one to bring the intel to him. He would trust Rex.
As he was thinking, Kix’s face lit up. “Wait, what about the Commander?” he suggested. “I saw her here earlier, arm-wrestling brothers from the 212th and talking to Hurricane Company. She should be able to help you reach the General.”
The Commander. Fives thought of Commander Tano and how she still mourned the loss of every man in the 501st; how proud of him and Echo she had been when they returned from ARC training; how she had comforted him after Echo died—sneaking out food from the mess hall, holding him as he broke down, and keeping watch when he finally collapsed so she could wake him from his persistent nightmares.
Once, when Fives had been beating himself up for not being fast enough to protect her from a detonator explosion, she had assured him that she’d always trusted him to watch her back, and that he had still never failed her; her voice and her smile had been so confident despite the pain she must’ve been in from the shrapnel embedded within her skin.
He hoped she would still be willing to trust him now, with something much more dangerous than a bomb.
“Yes,” Fives said. “Yes, you’re right—she might help me. Where did you last see her?”
“Heading upstairs with Broadside and Contrail.”
“Thanks, Kix,” Fives said, relieved. “I appreciate it. Here, here are the coordinates for Rex.” He grabbed Kix’s elbow and punched them into his comlink. “Just make sure he meets me there.”
“Right. Good luck, Fives,” Kix said quietly.
When Fives exited the refresher, Coruscant Guards were already combing the bar. Cursing, he stuck to the shadows and went upstairs, searching desperately for Commander Tano. He found her with a group of 501st pilots, leaning back on the rail and laughing as she elbowed Hawk teasingly.
Fives positioned himself so that he was in her eye line, then purposefully stumbled against a clone who was talking quietly with a Chagrian, making them snap at him in annoyance. At the commotion, Commander Tano glanced over, as did Hawk and Broadside.
“You boys okay?” she called.
“Eh, it’s just a shiny who can’t handle his drink,” Broadside said.
Fives feigned embarrassment, muttering that he was fine and backing away. He snatched an abandoned drink from two clones making out against the rail and settled against the wall near them, pretending to drink it. He tapped his feet so that he looked like a lonely clone bobbing to the music by himself.
When he saw Commander Tano look his way, frowning, he crossed his arms and quickly signed, Mayday. Then, On the run. Help. Silently.
She stared at him, puzzled. She was good at identifying each of his brothers, even before they had any tattoos or armor modifications, so he hoped she could tell who he was despite his shiny armor and newly shaved head, and the cap he had borrowed from the deck officer.
Briefly, she glanced down at her hands, which were down by her hips. Fives watched as they formed the sign for, Where do you want me? It had been created to determine battlefield positions, directing a soldier to take point or take up the rear, but Fives got her meaning.
Isk, he signed. Nine. Cargo hold. Now.
He didn’t stick around to see if she had understood. Warily, he slipped through the crowd, careful to avoid the Guards. Heart pounding, he grabbed a speeder bike and rode it down to the Coruscant undercity. He had just arrived at the landing platform of a munitions warehouse in sector I-9 when he heard another vehicle approaching.
He darted behind a tall stack of haphazardly piled crates. When he peeked through them, he saw Commander Tano jump off the bike and look around. Suddenly, she ignited her lightsaber and leaped into the air again. Fives tensed.
The distinct scream of a probe droid sounded, and the Commander grimly stamped its memory circuits out. The tense knot in Fives's chest loosened ever so slightly. He hadn’t even spotted it. But the Commander knew he was being pursued and was helping him, choosing to trust him. At least for the time being.
“Fives?” she whispered, creeping into the warehouse.
“Here, Commander,” Fives said from behind a haphazard stack of crates. He hesitated before he exited the shadows, painfully aware that he didn’t have a blaster on him. “Leave your weapons.”
She frowned but obeyed, setting her lightsabers on the nearest crate. They rolled to the edge and stopped with a faint clink. The Commander raised her hands before her, fingers spread.
“Okay, Fives,” she said carefully. “I’m unarmed.”
Fives sighed in relief and activated the ray shield, trapping her before he stepped out into the open. He rubbed at his left eye, which was blurring.
The Commander reeled back and smacked the barrier with the palm of her hand. “Fives? What’s going on? What are you doing?”
“Sorry, sir,” Fives said, “but I need you to listen to me.”
The Commander’s expression softened. “I’m listening. But what’s going on? Contrail said there’s an army-wide bulletin for your capture.” At the thought, terror spiked within him, which she likely sensed; her tone gentled. “Fives? I’m worried about you.”
“I don’t know if you heard about Tup and Master Tiplar—”
She nodded. “My master told me about it. I’m so sorry about Tup. I know you two were close. He was a good man, brave and kind.”
Fives’s breath trembled. He couldn’t think about Tup, not now, or he’d just break down. First, he had to tell someone about the conspiracy, then figure out how to hide from the Guards and from Palpatine. After that, he would mourn, would say his remembrances and add Tup to the ever-growing list.
“Thank you,” he said simply, then launched into his explanation, his words coming out jagged and panicked: “I was framed because I know the truth—the truth about a plot, a massive deception. There’s a sinister plot in the works against the Jedi. I have proof of it. I can prove that everything I know is true, beyond a shadow of a doubt.”
Commander Tano’s eyes were wide, but her voice was steady: “Tell me.”
“We took Tup to Kamino,” Fives said, pacing back and forth before the ray shield. “There, I discovered the vod'e were created for the enemy, and that they built organic chips into our genetic code to make us do whatever the sponsor wants. The Kaminoans claim the chip suppresses the aggression we inherited from the template, but I found out what they really do is make us more violent, take away our free will. And you know how little we already have, Commander—”
The Commander was staring at him, something like rage simmering in her gaze. “I know,” she said firmly.
Pacing was making Fives dizzy. He stopped and took a deep breath, wringing his hands.
“When the time comes, the enemy can activate the chips, and all the vod'e—every single brother—will turn on the Jedi and kill them like Tup killed General Tiplar. His glitched and activated too early, and the Kaminoans didn’t want it getting out, so they let him die and sent me to be reconditioned. This... It’s bigger than any of us, than anything I could have imagined.”
Commander Tano’s expression could only be described as raw fury. When she spoke, something unplaceable changed in the room; her voice was vibroblade-sharp and cold like durasteel:
“Who controls the switch?”
“Wait,” Fives said, startled. He was starting to feel more and more out of it; Nala Se’s drugs must have been kicking in. She had undoubtedly intended to sully his credibility. “You believe me?”
“Of course I believe you,” Commander Tano said. “I’ll always trust you, remember?”
Fives almost cried then. He should have never doubted her faith. For the first time in days, he felt the faintest glimmer of hope.
“Thank you. Thank you for trusting me.” He hesitated, willing his words to come out evenly. “It’s Palpatine,” he said.
She gasped, horror flashing across her face. “The Chancellor?!”
Her fists clenched at her sides, and the low warehouse lights unmistakably flickered. The ray shield mechanism shattered, and the Commander didn’t seem to notice as its parts rained down on her.
Fives stood his ground as well. “Yeah, the Chancellor controls the switch,” he said. “I don’t know to what extent he’s in on the plot, but I know he orchestrated much of it. He told me in the medical bay about the horrors that are coming, and laughed at the idea that nobody would believe me.”
The Commander closed her eyes and took a deep breath, appearing to steady herself.
“Well, I guess I never liked him anyway,” she said lightly, though there was little humor in her expression. “The way he talks to my master has always given me the creeps. And he always shoos me away like a glowbug.”
Fives raised his eyebrows, then rubbed his temples at the pain that shot through his head at the motion. “That’s pretty treasonous to say, Commander,” he managed to get out, the words slurring together.
She grinned, the fierce fire in her eyes strangely comforting. “Oh, that’s nothing. Our next move is going to be much more illegal.”
Fives hadn’t even gotten there, so occupied he’d been with presenting his case and trying not to collapse. But the Commander was already sketching out a plan, thank kriff.
“First we have to get you somewhere safe,” she said. “The Guard is accusing you of attempted assassination—which is pretty convenient, given what you’ve just told me about the Chancellor.”
Fives nodded. He knew his chances of survival were low, especially if he was going to have to run while in this drugged state.
The Commander chewed her lip. “We can’t put any vod'e in danger—the Chancellor would expect you to be with them, anyway. But you need to lay low with someone we can trust, someone who will be able to defend you if I’m shipped out.”
“I don’t know any civilians, sir,” Fives said. “Much less armed ones. What about a Jedi?”
“We can’t tell my master—not yet, at least,” she said, crossing her arms and thinking. “The Chancellor is his friend. If we don’t have evidence, he won’t believe us.”
At her words, Fives nodded, relieved that Kix had suggested he speak to Commander Tano. Who knew what might have happened if the General had met him here but hadn’t believed his story?
“I don’t know if General Kenobi or Senator Amidala would believe us either,” she continued. “Maybe Barriss would, but she’s still out in the Rim. I would go to Riyo, but I know she was just called back to Pantora...”
Fives was barely following the names, his limbs feeling bizarrely far away. He attempted to move his fingers but couldn’t surmise whether he’d succeeded.
“Oh!” Commander Tano said. “I know someone,” she said. “An old friend. When I first met him, he didn’t believe in the Republic; he thought it corrupt. I think he’ll believe this story. And nobody will suspect that someone just starting their career would harbor a fugitive.”
She glanced at him, and her expression softened at his confused state. She laid a hand on his arm, and he tried not to flinch at the unexpected contact.
“You need medical attention, Fives. Do you trust me?”
“I trust you, sir,” Fives said. “If you believe this being might help us, then so will I.”
“Commander, I have to ask—what if I get your friend in trouble?”
Ahsoka smiled at Fives in what she hoped was a reassuring way. “You won't,” she promised.
They had made it to Lux’s veranda by way of her grappling hook and Fives’s firm grip, and were now standing on a ledge beside it. Ahsoka was wearing a cloak she had traded for a ration bar in the undercity, and Fives had attained a Coruscant Guard helmet from a trooper they had knocked out. His voice sounded strange in a way that had nothing to do with the vocoder, and he had nearly toppled off the building as they made their way up, which was extremely out of character for any ARC trooper—much less one of the best in the 501st.
With the assistance of the Force, Ahsoka leaped onto the railing and tugged Fives up.
Lux was waiting for them on the veranda, arms crossed and eyebrows raised. Ahsoka had commed him on the way and explained very vaguely that she needed his help immediately.
“Hey, Lux,” she said.
“Ahsoka,” he greeted warmly.
They hadn’t spoken directly since Onderon, though they’d attempted several times to reconnect since Lux had entered the Senate. But he was always swamped with his new duties, and the Outer Rim Sieges meant Ahsoka rarely ever stepped foot on Coruscant these days.
“What kind of trouble have you brought me now?” Lux said with a quirk of the mouth.
He’d had another growth spurt and was at least a head taller than her now. Dabs of jade crystal dangled from his ears on copper chains, and the sleek and silvery Onderonian formalwear flattered his broadening shoulders. But, to Ahsoka’s relief, she only recognized that in a distant sort of way, with none of the fixation that had consumed her in the past.
“Excuse me,” she huffed. “I seem to remember it being you who usually brought me trouble.”
He chuckled. “Well, then allow me to return the favor.”
Ahsoka nodded gratefully and gestured at Fives. “This is my friend Fives,” she said. “He needs a medikit and a place to stay while I figure out our next move.”
Lux’s gaze traveled to Fives, who stood at attention beside her. “You must be the ARC trooper who’s got the Coruscant Guard so riled up.” He grinned impishly and extended his hand. “It's a pleasure to meet you, Fives.”
Fives stared down at the hand, then up at Lux, who cocked his head. Ahsoka realized suddenly that this might be the first time Fives had been offered the gesture—one of respect between implied equals. She nudged him with her elbow, and he shook the proffered hand, looking confused.
“The pleasure is mine, Senator,” he said stiffly.
Lux led them through the glass doors and into his apartment. He shut the drapes, movements casual, and gestured for them to sit while he grabbed medical supplies.
The living room was a grand space with a high ceiling and curved, colorful walls topped with intricate crown molding. The windows must have looked out onto the city, but they had all been covered—for this meeting, Ahsoka assumed. Beneath their feet was a fluffy burgundy carpet, and the ornate chandelier that hung overhead reminded her of the gigantic, many-petaled flowers found in Onderon’s jungles.
Fives stared at the plush goldenrod sofa, then down at his borrowed uniform. “Shall I remove my armor, sir?”
Lux shrugged, setting a shiny metal box on the table between the sofas. “Do as you like,” he said. “It doesn’t matter to me. And it’s just Lux.”
Fives glanced at Ahsoka, then began to strip his kit from his body, neatly stacking the bright white components on the ground beside them. He still didn’t seem well, his movements slow as honey jelly.
Lux cocked his head. “What do you need from medikit?”
“Ah—I’m not sure, but I believe I was drugged, sir,” Fives said. “Blurry vision, inability to concentrate, constant migraine...”
Quickly, Ahsoka thought back to what Kix had taught her about battlefield medicine. “A mild sedative should help bring him down.”
Nodding, Lux rummaged through the kit and retrieved a vial of pills.
“Thank you, Senator,” Fives said, accepting it.
Ahsoka took a seat, slumping back into the cushions. Lux sat down across from her and asked, “So—mind giving me a hint what’s going on here?”
Ahsoka held her hand up to stop him. “First of all, what’s the holocam and holorecorder setup in these rooms?”
“I already disabled them,” Lux assured her, withdrawing a jammer from his pocket.
“Good,” Ahsoka said, grateful, then launched into an explanation. Fives settled on the other end of the sofa and pitched in at her prompting.
Lux sat back after they were finished, staring in their direction without seeming to see them. “Then—my mother was right, in a way. The Republic has become too corrupt. It’s being—used. The emergency powers the Chancellor seized, the conflicts he’s been enflaming...”
“Maybe, but that still doesn’t mean the Separatists are in the right,” Ahsoka interjected.
He shook his head. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to rejoin the CIS. I just—I wish my mother had known.”
Fives’s head whipped toward Ahsoka. “He’s a Seppie?!”
Ahsoka hid a giggle at how flabbergasted he was. “Lux’s mother was a Separatist senator,” she said. “But he decided to go down a different path after we took back Onderon. In case it helps—Rex taught him everything he knows about battle.”
Fives relaxed at the mention of Rex but still eyed Lux suspiciously.
For a while, they discussed the logistics of Fives staying in Lux’s apartment. Lux showed Fives his guest bedroom and the ridiculously enormous refresher attached to it. Fives looked incredibly uncomfortable just walking into the luxurious lodgings, but Ahsoka was glad to know he would be treated well here.
“All right,” she said after Fives had reluctantly given Lux the clothing measurements he had requested. “I’m going to head back to the Temple. Fives—the men are going to need to know about this. Which vod'e would you like to tell first?” Who do you trust? she didn’t say.
Fives thought for a moment. “Definitely Rex. Jesse and Kix. Let’s start there, sir.”
“Sounds like a plan. I’ll come up with a reason for them to accompany me here.” She looked at Fives and lowered her voice. “Is this safehouse acceptable? I know it’s not ideal, but Lux will protect you.”
“Beats running from the Guards,” Fives said, head ducked. “Thanks, Commander. And thank you for believing me.”
Ahsoka grasped his forearm in the vod'e clasp, her grip firm.
“I’ll always believe you, Fives. Now get some rest. I’ll be back in the morning.” She nodded at Lux. “Sorry for springing this on you, Lux. We appreciate your aid in our time of need. Can I count on you to protect my friend?”
Lux nodded, his features serious. “Always,” he promised. “We’ll see you in the morning.”
“See you,” Ahsoka echoed. She showed herself out.
The door slid shut behind her, but she stayed there for a moment, trying to release her stress and anger into the Force. She had felt so furious back at the warehouse, consumed by rage and spite and fear for the vod'e. Master Skywalker got like that sometimes, especially when they encountered slavers and Toydarians; Ahsoka shivered at the memory of the searing rage that sometimes shook the air around him.
Sighing to herself, she made her way to the turbolift. Getting caught up in her anger would only distract her; right now she needed to be there for Fives—for the 501st, who had become something of a family to her, and all their brothers, too.
And the rest of her family, the Jedi—they were counting on her as well, even if they didn’t know it yet. She had to prevent the grisly future Palpatine had conveyed to Fives, the one in which the Order was razed to the ground.
She had to keep her head clear, her mind focused on the impossible task at hand. Emotion, yet peace. Passion, yet serenity. Meditation would have to be her priority for the rest of the night.
Then, tomorrow, the rest.