The soft glare of the setting sun washed over the pale stone. The clean, white bricks blurred from the salty sting in her eyes as she delivered the last words to end everything she had ever known.

"I know."

She didn't turn to see the conflicted eyes of the man behind her — she couldn't. For the first time in her life, she was too afraid.

Without a falter in her step — because she knew if she hesitated she would never move from the spot in the glare of the setting sun — she moved forward.

The white beams of light filtering through the clouds were not the only things blinding her. The salty blur began to sting her cheeks, and she walked on, forcing herself not to think of regret, or her Master staring heartbrokenly at her back as she walked away from the Order — and from him.

The sheer magnitude of what her last footfalls on the stone staircase meant overwhelmed her senses, and she continued on, not being able to pay attention to the lively city around her filled with roaring speeders and busy people.

How could she, really, when she had finally felt her sense of purpose — the meaning of her life — leave her, as she dismounted the staircase and went on?

The pale white stone, clean and crisp, an unreachable beacon above the dark and lost streets below, faded from view.

And for the first time in her life, Ahsoka Tano felt truly alone.

No friends.

No family.

No plan.

No purpose.

No guidance.

And as the realization hit her that she really had nothing, the streets that she had always seen from a disconnected point of view, where she never had to survive in them, just pass through them, seemed a whole lot bigger than she remembered from walking them next to her Master. 

Think, think, think. She repeated over and over in her head.

But she couldn't think.

The twisting, manafesting, pain clouded everything. Rising in her throat, and sitting in the pit of her stomach like a rock — no, not a rock. A spike — a burning hot, sharp spike.

No, Ahsoka couldn't think. Couldn't hear anything accept the echoeing mantra in her head that she was no longer held to, and just those phrases, the promise and knowledge behind them — everything she had ever known to be true, unwavering certainty — was nothing more than just meaningless words to her now.

There is no emotion, there is peace.

No. This was not peace. The swirling, inundating storm inside of her was not peace.

There is no ignorance, there is knowledge.

But knowledge of what? No, Ahsoka did not know anything anymore. Nothing made sense, but for the first time, she was able to see past her ignorance. In her, no their, belief that knowledge would save them from ignorance, the Jedi had become ignorant to the very fact that it was not so absolute.

There is no passion, there is serenity.

But at what cost? The justice behind the mantra had been forgotten when faced with her trial, and the truth not a priority — just the blame, until the passion of her Master had saved it. But even that was not enough.

There is no chaos, there is harmony.

Harmony. Ahsoka almost wanted to laugh — but she had to choke back a sob instead. There is no more harmony, she thought. The galaxy is in chaos, and we — they — stick to a belief in harmony. It had lost its meaning through the clouded conscience of the Order.

There is no death, there is the Force.

Yes, she thought. But there are worse things than death. And she had a constant reminder of the fact in the nauseating churning of her emotions. Emotions, that until now, she was not meant to feel.

Think, think, think, she pressed again, almost collapsing against the brick wall of a building.

The world was upside down, and nothing was making sense. Nothing could make sense.

The sky could fall, or the planet implode, and Ahsoka Tano would still be lost. Not in the physical sense, but in her mind. Okay, so the sky had fallen, then why shouldn't that make sense? Everything she had ever known had disappeared, replaced with uncertainty and disbelief. Anything except what she had known would make sense. So who was she to decide that the sky couldn't fall? After all, it seemed to her that her own sky was falling, pressing down on her shoulders, crushing her spirit and senses alike.

Leaning her forearm against the bricks of the wall, she didn't even feel the rough, cold stone beneath her bare skin. Instead, she only felt numb.

I dont know. I dont know. I dont know.

There was nothing to know. Everything around her was dark, monochromatic, nothing.

The traffic of horns and speeders disturbing the cool night air fell on deaf ears — the chaos around her was muted by the chaos within.

The ringing in her ears was the only constant she knew anymore, and her raspy breaths sung out into the night, almost as if there were no oxygen to breathe. It made sense, she thought, that the oxygen had disappeared, just like her faith, her hope, and her life had just moments before.

Ringing in her ears.

Get a grip, Ahsoka.

The sky was falling.

I can't. I dont know. I dont know. I dont know.

Why couldn't she breathe?

Think!

Her thoughts didn't even make sense.

I dont know. I can't.

Panic.

Ahsoka!

Lost.

I dont kno—

Fear.

You are Ahsoka Tano. And no one can ever take that.

Clarity.

That is your certainty — your constant.

A guide.

Believe in that.

The colors became more vibrant, and the muted motion around her replaced the pounding in her ears.

She felt her chest rise and fall as the precious oxygen filled the place of panic, and her breathes came slower.

Her mind stopped racing at light speed, and she pressed her forehead to the cool, rough stone of the wall, centering herself, clearing her mind, and forcing down her panic and nausea.

"Okay. Okay. Okay." She muttered. It helped to think aloud — Anakin had taught her that, but when she thought his name, a wave of pain and sorrow and regret almost made her double over. She felt the bile rise in her throat, and the pit of her stomach clench in a nauseating fashion, so, suffocating the urge to vomit, she closed her mind, feeling nothing.

"That is not your path anymore; do not follow it." She said aloud, her shaky, hoarse voice echoed into the empty alleyway around her, and she removed her head from the wall to finally take in her surroundings.

Only to realize that she was lost.

But to her surprise, it helped her clear her mind.

Yes, she thought. I can deal with this. This is something I can fix.

So she focused on that. Her sense of control over her trembling body came back, and she used the situation as her guide; her purpose.

She closed her eyes briefly and took a shaky breath. She wanted to reassure herself — to tell herself that everything would be okay, but she knew that would be a lie.

Okay, she thought. Okay, okay... What are the facts? From her countless missions and teachings at the Jedi Temple, she knew that the most valuable thing that she could use when faced with indecision were facts.

Remember, Snips, whenever you're overwhelmed, just go over what you already know.

The familiar, comforting voice of Anakin Skywalker filled her conscience, creating a balance between pain, longing, and regret, and comfort, gratefulness, and warmth. She felt the burning spike in her stomach mediate for just a moment, before remembering that she would never hear that voice again.

She pushed the conflict down inside of her and instead, in what Anakin would have called one of the rare times she listened to him, she opened her eyes and began to collect the information that was available to her.

Centering herself in the certainty of the intangible constant of information, Ahsoka went over the facts, finally calming her racing mind, pounding heart, and churning stomach.

Alright, she began. The facts...

She swept her gaze over her surroundings, taking them in; interpreting them like she remembered doing on the battlefield in the midst of steaming blasters and singed air.

Up — she could still see the stars, and she began to recognize some of the constellations she had read about before at the Temple.

There, that one! She thought. The twinkling structure of stars took the shape of an akul — she remembered it specifically because it reminded her of her akul-tooth headdress.

"Okay, okay. That's.... North..." She raised her trembling arm as she spoke aloud, her voice shaky and vulnerable, but becoming more like her old self as she pointed toward the shining constellation above.

Left — she lowered her raised hand slowly, and turned her head to face outside of the alleyway. A cool wind met her face, slightly alleviating the sting of her cheeks from the salt that had dried on them.

Closing her eyes, she welcomed the soft breeze. Her throat felt raw, fresh, and sore from trying to control her tears. She felt vulnerable as she took another shaky breath, still trembling, though slightly less so. Her head pounded in the tell-tale signs of a headache from dehydration. Her body was sore and tired, and she remembered feeling the same sort of exhaustion after the few times she had cried when at the Temple.

She finally opened her eyes, still stinging from the dried salt and tears. Now, with a cool breeze blowing against her cheeks, she felt more at ease — like she wasn't completely alone in the world. She scanned her surroundings, and now that the panic had been slowly ebbing away, she felt a pang if recognition.

Shining like a beacon across the street, a busy diner was swarming with beings in the nightlife of Coruscant. She focused enough to peer through the window, and was met with a familiar sight. A Besalisk, four arms swirling around in concentration, was running the counter.

A Besalisk... She thought. Why do I recognize him... It took her a minute of frustrating patience, but then — Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Dex. That was his name, she decided, hoping she was correct. What felt like a long time ago, she remembered Obi-Wan taking her and Anakin to meet him — she couldn't remember why they were on the streets of Coruscant instead of a battlefield, but she remembered the information he had given them had been reliable.

But she couldn't just go in there — she had to have a reason besides just knowing the Besalisk. She didn't have any credits, so she couldn't buy any food, and she didn't even know why the fact that she recognized him comforted her — it wasn't like she could do anything about it.

Suddenly, she felt very alone and vulnerable again. Subconsciously, she placed her hands on her hips, searching for the familiar weight that always reassured her — and found them missing.

No, not missing: gone. She had given up that privledge when she left the Temple. Now, she felt even more vulnerable than ever — naked, even, without the weight of her two lightsabers thumping against her hips.

Her eyes stung afresh with new salty tears, and her stomach twisted painfully, nauseatingly, as she forced the bile down and choked back another sob. The clouds that had just seemed to lift from her mind took their place again, more concentrated than ever.

No, she thought. No, no, no. I am done feeling sorry for myself. Get a grip Ahsoka!

But her semi-pep talk didn't work. She pressed her hands to her face, one hand pressed hard against her mouth, trying to muffle the horrible feeling as silent tears slipped down her cheeks, and she slipped down the wall.

After a few moments of uncontrollable emotion, she forced herself to calm down.

It's just like the battlefield, Ahsoka, she told herself, leaning her head back against the wall behind her and closing her eyes as her salty, wet cheeks began to dry.

Remember. It's the same as controlling your panic in the War. She told herself, and she found that relating her situation to something familiar helped alleviate the burning, pressurized emotions weighing her down.

She sighed in exhaustion, hiccuping slightly as her sobs died down, and she was able to control herself again.

Her face felt hot and raw, stinging in the night air, and her panic began to subside.

Think, Ahsoka. She urged. What do you need?

Food. She thought, and it was true enough. She was hungry, but not cripplingly so — she had gone far longer without food or energy to sustain her, and if she was still keeping up with the analogy of fighting a war, then she decided that she would be fine for a while longer.

Water. She continued on with her list, still leaning up against the cool, rough stone behind her. I need water, she thought again. That she knew was true — her head was pounding from the dehydration that crying brought in its wake, and she knew she would need something to drink, and soon.

Credits, she thought. I need credits to get food and water. Credits. How was she to get those?

A job! Her conscience answered her own question. But how to get a job?

The Jedi Temple had prepared Ahsoka Tano for the unthinkable — warfare, battle strategy, and sacrifice. But it hadn't taught her to leave. Now, facesd with the real unthinkable situation, Ahsoka Tano had no idea what to do.

A job, she thought again. Now, she had a goal. She rose shakily to her feet, feeling slightly better. Now that she had an external motive, she didn't have to focus on the conflict within.

Okay, okay. She thought, because now she had a reason to go see Dex — to ask him how she could get a job.

Focusing on her goal, her motive, her new purpose, Ahsoka Tano strode, albeit a little shakily, across the street to the lively diner, bursting with the beings of Coruscant.

:::

So, first chapter! Alright, in this one I focused a lot more on her internal conflict than her external conflict, and used third-person limited for narration. (Meaning, it is third-person, but focused on one characters point of view.)

I have a few ideas of where I'm going with this book, but we'll see what happens, because 1) I am writing a few other books, and 2) school and sports and homework.

How did you think the chapter was? I tried to keep Ahsoka in character, so How'd I do with that? How was the writing style? (I tried to keep a lot of description, but if it got confusing then let me know).

Please don't hesitate to drop and criticism (constructive preferred), and PLEASE call me out on if I assassinated the original characters, because I hate when that happens.

Alright, thanks for reading!

*this is unedited, so please excuse any mistakes (I know that there are definitely a few, especially because I'm using my phone to type this, and 1) I hate typing apostrophes on phones (don't ask me why), and 2) autocorrect hates me. So if you spot any, please let me know! (I love how I'm writing this like anyone is actually going to read it, but, oh well...)

Also, this book is mostly for fun, and I wasn't even really planning on posting it, but I thought Oh well, what's the harm in it? So here we are.

Anyway, thanks for reading! Bye!

9/27/20

Word count: 2635