"Master Yoda's light-years away, so it's me you've got to persuade," Anakin said. "And seeing as I can't ship you back to Coruscant yet, you might as well make yourself useful. Rex, give her an acquaint of the position. And don't take any backchat from her."
Rex checked the charge on his rifle and both sidearms, then gestured to the stairs. "Very good, sir. Come on, youngling."
She followed him without further argument, scowling, but Anakin saw her lips move soundlessly: Padawan. She really cared about her status, that one.
"And if Captain Rex gives you an order," Anakin said, "you take it, okay?"
Ahsoka narrowed her eyes a fraction. "Yes, Skyguy."
Stang, he didn't have time to play games with a kid. He watched her disappear down the smoke-stained stairwell with Rex before he felt he could breathe again.
Kenobi sat next to the mobile comm station, one ear cocked to the chatter of static thrown up by the solar storm ripping through the upper layers of Christophsis's atmosphere. "Don't you think you're a little hard on her?"
"No. This isn't a game."
"I admit she's not what I expected in terms of self-discipline." Kenobi paused as the white noise seemed to resolve into a clear comm signal, but it vanished again. There was still no window to make contact with Coruscant. "But then neither were you."
"I had a better excuse," said Anakin. "And I didn't play the brat in the middle of a war, either."
"You're not that much older than she is."
"Oh, I am, Master," Anakin said quietly. "A lifetime older."
Kenobi just looked at him, one eyebrow slightly raised. There might have been the suggestion of a smile under the beard. Then it faded as he appeared to realize what Anakin meant.
"Yes, I know what war does to you," Kenobi said at last. He didn't ask Anakin to go on, although he must have felt his pain from time to time in the Force. But it was more than the war. Kenobi never asked for any details about what had happened on Tatooine, and whether that was from tact or disinterest, Anakin didn't know. "Well, then, you're old enough to cut her some slack."
You don't know what it is to love, Master. Or to lose. You didn't even know your own mother.
Anakin hadn't yet settled on a consistent view of his former Master-and he still called him Master, and thought of him as such-so that half smile, benign as it was, made him wonder if he was being scolded. Sometimes he felt Kenobi was stability and safety; sometimes he thought he was an overbearing older brother who held him back and even competed with him.
He'd told Padme that. She'd been taken aback by it.
And he didn't want to take me as a Padawan, did he? He only did it out of duty.
Anakin often found himself ambushed by thoughts he didn't want. It was even worse sometimes than the recurring memory of the Tusken village, because he only had to face its ghosts, but it was harder to handle his sporadic resentments and doubts about a Master he cared for and respected.
"I've got some maintenance to do," Anakin said, grabbing a battered comlink from the makeshift console. "I'll be back soon."
It was his hint that he wanted some space. Kenobi never asked why. Usually, it was to find privacy to comm Padme or to compose a message to her that he could send when he next got a chance. It was hard to be apart. It was even harder to keep their relationship secret.
No attachments. I know. But I can't live that way, Master.
Anakin found a quiet room two floors beneath the observation level and settled into a corner. The room must once have been an entertainment suite; a large holovid projector jutted from one wall, cables exposed, framed by the pockmarks and scattered black debris from a cannon round that had passed through the room to leave a hole in the far wall. Plush upholstered seats-brilliant green Farus shimmersilk with a close-cut pile-lay tipped on one side, pleekwood legs snapped off, pale stuffing spilling onto the floor in a way that looked distressingly like brain tissue.
Anakin dismantled the comlink almost without thinking, the probes and microspanners as natural in his hands as an extension of his own body. Putting things back together was soothing. It gave him control over events just long enough to calm his thoughts.
Skyguy. I bet she thinks that's cute. It's just juvenile. Ahsoka really annoyed him.
He wasn't sure why, beyond the fact that he didn't relish responsibility for-or power over-others. And she talked too much. And she was far too cocky, in that naive, chirpy, why-can't-we-fix-it way, as if he and the clone troopers had never been in combat before. When it came to battle-well, he'd still take lessons from them, thanks. And she could do the same.
The Jedi Council didn't want me, either. Being the Chosen One didn't count for anything. Master Yoda wouldn't train me, or Windu.
Every member of the Jedi Council had had something more pressing to do than help him work out what this terrible, galaxy-changing power of his meant, and how he should live in its shadow.
He still wasn't sure.
Anakin recalled standing there in that grand, polished Jedi Council Chamber, surrounded by what felt like fear, and disdain, and bewilderment-who were those Masters to feel bewildered, when he was the one uprooted from everything he knew and told he had a destiny?-and feeling that the only person there who cared if he lived or died was Master Qui-Gon Jinn. And they stopped him training the Chosen One.
Qui-Gon hadn't cared what the Jedi Council said. He'd trained him anyway, a Padawan in all but name.
Why am I thinking of all this now? Haven't I put it behind me? Haven't I had enough bad memories since then to take their place? Haven't I vindicated Master Qui-Gon?
If he was consumed by anything, it should have been the death of his mother. Right then, he wasn't even thinking of Padme.
Anakin realized he'd reassembled the comlink without even being conscious of it. He tested the power switches. It worked the first time. Sometimes the little victories made all the difference.
Maybe she's like me. Maybe nobody else wanted to train her, either.
Anakin didn't want to do it, but he knew how it felt to be rejected. It was time to see if he could repair the rocky start to his relationship with his new Padawan as easily as he'd fixed the comlink.
* * *
CENTRAL PLAZA, CRYSTAL CITY
Rex picked his way through the rubble of what had once been a beautiful city square, Skywalker's new Padawan at his side.
He hoped she was grateful for a hasty exit. He wondered if she realized that Skywalker didn't suffer fools gladly, and that if she'd pushed him much further, she'd have learned that the hard way. The men liked Skywalker; he was a soldier's soldier, someone who understood the troops, but-no, and he had that edge to him. Rex didn't see it as a failing. There was no but. It was a necessity in a good officer. You had to know who was boss.
Ahsoka paused and looked up at him. "Shouldn't you be wearing your helmet?"
Ilex's boots crunched on a shattered marble relief that looked like part of the fountain. "I've got my comm earpiece." He tapped his ear. He thought she wanted to learn SOPs, standard operating procedures. "And we're monitoring for snipers."
"Have you thought about moving that line back?" Ahsoka pointed to the artillery position. "They'd have better cover that way."
Ah. Maybe he was overestimating the scope of the teachable moment. This wasn't a clone kid. She was a know-all, or at least too scared to admit she didn't know much. He had to deal with it, or Skywalker would have his hands full. "Thank you, but General Skywalker thinks they're fine where they are."
"But they need cover."
"They also need range."
"What if I gave you an order to move the cannons? You're a captain, and I'm a Jedi, so I technically outrank you, right?"
"Technically, you're only a youngling."
"Padawan!"
She looked as if she was going to continue, but she stopped of her own accord. Rex didn't need to interrupt her. It was as good a time as any to do what a fellow clone captain called picturizing, a lovely mild wo
rd for putting someone in their place.
"Look, littl'un," Rex said, "why don't I explain how things are in the real world?"
Ahsoka bristled visibly. Rex had never served with Togrutas before, so he wasn't sure what was normal for their youngsters. But he knew how a Jedi should behave, and she wasn't doing it.
"I still think..."
This time, he did interrupt. "Are you scared?"
"No!"
"Well, you should be. Because if you're not scared in a war, then you haven't grasped the severity of your situation." Rex sat down on a chunk of masonry so he was at eye level with her. He preferred training by example, but that would have involved letting her get blown up, and he had to cut her some slack. She was just a kid, full of a kid's weird mix of uncertainty and overconfidence about a brand-new rank, as if it would stop a blaster bolt if she brandished it enough. "I take my orders from General Skywalker. It's called the chain of command, and it matters, because we all have to be clear who's in charge, or else we'll be running around like nuna. And you take your orders from him, too, because you're his Padawan. With me so far?"
That defiant jut of her chin had receded a little. "Yes, Captain."
"Want to learn the most important things about being a soldier? I mean the things they don't teach you at the Temple."
"How would you know what they teach Jedi?"
"By watching you ..."
"Okay." Ahsoka dropped her chin another fraction. "Experience matters."
Rex ratcheted back a few notches. There was no point rubbing a kid's nose in it. You had to climb down with them. "One," he said. "Orders. You follow orders. They keep you alive. Two, you're part of a team. We look out for our buddies-I cover your back, you cover mine. And three, an officer rank doesn't give you automatic respect. You earn it. It's not just Skywalker's rank that makes us give him one hundred percent. It's because he treats us with respect, and he puts himself on the line with us."
Rex paused to let it sink in. He took a guess that she wanted desperately to be taken seriously, and treated like an adult. She'd grow up all too soon in this war anyway.
Togrutas had head-tails, but unlike Twi'leks, Togrutas had three, much shorter than the twin Twi'lek lekku. Ahsoka's-vividly striped-now hung down in front of her shoulders in a way that made her look crestfallen. "That makes sense," she said at last.
"So . . . are you scared?"
"Yes. Are you?"
"You bet."
"But you're all bred to be fearless."
Rex laughed. "All the same, eh?"
"Well . . . you are clones."
Rex sat his helmet on his knee. He couldn't show her the head-up display projected onto the inside of his visor, because the helmet wouldn't fit over her head-tails. But he could transmit something from his database to her 'pad. The lesson was nearly complete. They'd get on just fine after this, he knew it.
"Like Togrutas," he said. "You're all pretty much the same, too."
"What?"
"Take a look at the species database we're given. It says so." Rex slid his hand inside the helmet and activated the link. "Come on-check your 'pad."
Ahsoka grabbed the datapad from her belt and stared at the screen. At first her frown was just one of concentration, but then it deepened into concern. She narrowed her eyes. "Well, that's just not true." She started reading aloud. "Most Togrutas are not independent. Many species are under the impression that Togrutas are venomous . . . Togrutas enjoy eating thiamars, small rodent-like creatures . . . well, that's not fair. I'm not like that at all."
Rex smiled. Point made. Ahsoka met his eyes for a few moments, then nodded in concession.
"Do we have an understanding, Padawan?"
"Yes, Captain." She smiled back, restrained at first, then with a broad grin; yes, Togrutas did have the sharp predator's teeth of their ancestors. But the poor kid must have felt terribly alone right then. "There's nothing quite like experience."
"Good. Come on, let's walk the perimeter." Rex stood up and beckoned her to follow. He could hear the local comm traffic in his earpiece; no droid activity, not yet. That worried him more than it comforted him. The tinnies would be back. He ran through the contingency plans in his head, the last-ditch defense they might have to put into operation if they weren't relieved soon.
"At least we don't have to worry about civilians. That's the worst thing when you're fighting in an urban area-the risk of civvy casualties. That limits our attack. The tinnies don't have any feelings about killing noncombatants, of course, and they just keep shelling, so we're handicapped by our rules of engagement."
A small creature-nothing Rex could identify-shot out from the rubble and raced away from them. Ahsoka's head jerked around; her eyes never left the creature as she walked, her head eerily steady-unnaturally steady-the whole time. It was a hard-wired reflex reaction to rapid movements. In that moment, Rex saw her for what she was: still a predator, a fast and precise hunter, just as he was the agile, opportunistic, cooperative team animal his ancestors had been. In a war like this, a predator was a great asset.
She's got the right stuff. Let's hope we can keep her from killing herself proving it.
The tiny ball of dark fur darted a few more meters to another vantage point. "Please, not lunch . . . ," Rex said. "At least, not while I'm looking."
"No, rodents give me gas." Ahsoka laughed, and turned her head away from the creature. Then she scanned the horizon slowly, her huge eyes slightly narrowed. Of course; she'd have terrific long-distance vision, a legacy of her predator heritage. Then she pointed, extending her arm slowly. "What's that?"
Rex hadn't noticed it before. From the sudden burst of comm chatter in his ear, the obs post had spotted it at the same time Ahsoka had. It was a huge orange ball, translucent and glowing slightly as it slowly swallowed buildings on the far edge of the city.
It was moving.
No; it was expanding.
Rex's stomach knotted. "That's going to make things damned near impossible."
"You didn't answer, Rex-what is it?"
"It's an energy field," he said, turning back to the battalion's makeshift operating base. "There goes our edge. Cannon won't penetrate that. And we don't have the numbers to keep the droids pinned down. Come on, back to base."
"But you've got a plan, right?"
"We've always got a plan. And another . . . and another. Just have to keep trying until we find one that works, and hope we don't die before that."
She trotted after him and broke into a run. "Master Yoda might get support here in time."
Rex paused to watch the expanding sphere for a few moments, estimating the speed of advance. It would overwhelm them long before anyone flew to the rescue.
"Well, you need experience, littl'un. Here's where you start getting it."
"Don't worry," she said. "I'll watch your back."
Rex didn't doubt it.
"And I'll watch yours," he said.
* * *
COMM STATION
The holochart of Crystal City made the Separatists' strategy painfully clear.
Anakin watched the moving points of light that indicated droid troops. They were advancing behind the leading edge of the energy shield, moving back into the center of the city. One column was heading straight for the artillery position in the square. He felt helpless, and he didn't handle helpless well.
Kenobi tilted his head slightly to one side. "It's hard to pin-point the field generator precisely, but it's got to be in this area somewhere. The field's elliptical, which means it's probably within this radius." He prodded his forefinger into the meshwork of light and made a loop to indicate the range of positions.
"Cannon's not going to make a dent in that, so I say we save our ordnance for later. In the meantime, all we can do is try to engage them in confined spaces."
"We'll draw them into the buildings," Rex said. "They've got to find us to fight us. They can't fire their own cannon from inside the shield, so let's make their defenses work ag
ainst them."
Ahsoka watched in silence. Anakin wondered what Rex had said to her to subdue her annoying ebullience. She seemed to be calculating, eyes darting from one side of the holochart to the other.
"Why don't we just take out the generator?" she said. She seemed to be asking Rex. "Or is it not that simple?"
"Correct," said Anakin. "It's not that simple."
"Suicide mission," Rex said. "Not that I couldn't get plenty of volunteers from the ranks, but we'd probably waste a lot of men getting nowhere, and at least we know we stand a chance if we can pin down the tinnies inside buildings. They're not good at fighting house-to-house."
"I could do it," Ahsoka said. "Let me try, Skyguy."
Rex gave her a look that Anakin couldn't quite read, but it wasn't annoyance. He felt it: a kind of sad guilt.
"You don't have to prove anything, littl'un," Rex said quietly.
"I can do it. I know I can. I'm small and I'm fast." She lowered her chin slightly. "And where better to use Jedi skills?"
"Very well, Anakin, take Ahsoka and penetrate the Sep lines," said Kenobi. He stabbed his finger into the holochart again. "Rex and I can stage a diversion here, and that should make it easier for you to slip through."
"We'll need to defend the artillery position, sir," Rex said. "But if we can't draw them into the buildings, they'll just roll right down the street into the square and take out our arty pieces, and there'll be very little we can do about it. And then it'll be endex for all of us."
"I can do it," Ahsoka said. She shot Anakin a glance."We can do it."
Kenobi didn't comment. He walked away to the comm console to talk to Clone Commander Cody. Ahsoka seemed engrossed in the chart, and increased the magnification to show individual streets as if she was planning a route. Anakin took a few paces and stood in the doorway, then gave Rex a discreet jerk of his head to indicate he wanted to talk to him.
"Don't tell me you can do mind influence, too, Rex," Anakin said quietly. "But it's impressive, whatever it is."
"Okay, I might have overdone the pep talk on how to be a good officer, sir."
"It worked."
"She's desperate to get it right. I'd hate to think I made her feel she has to do something suicidal to earn my respect."