Two years ago...

When Anakin pushed open the secret door into the basement of Chancellor Palpatine's manor, the air was so charged with fear even a person blind and deaf to the Force would sense it.

"Master...?" he began, looking back at Obi-Wan over his shoulder. His old teacher nodded, looking troubled.

In the same heartbeat, Anakin felt Ahsoka's mental shields go up through their bond, locking any Force wielder but himself and Obi-Wan out of her mind. A glance at her from the corner of his eye brought back a small frame that was all balanced posture and battle-ready muscles. Pride briefly rose up through Anakin's unease before it was overtaken again – but it wasn't completely overcome.

I wish I'd bet money against Obi-Wan's estimate. She'll definitely make full Knight before nineteen, he thought, and nearly smiled.

"I sense it too," Ahsoka murmured, drawing Anakin back to the present, and scampered on ahead. Anakin and Obi-Wan slowed their pace on reflex, falling back on old strategies that had long become reflex: letting Ahsoka act as vanguard with her speed and precision while Anakin waited to dive in with the heavy artillery and cause some damage. Obi-Wan came last, covering the rear and ready to smooth things over, should Knight or Padawan get drawn too far into the heat of battle.

A soft pulse in Ahsoka's aura signalled the all-clear, but Anakin wasn't going to drop his guard just yet – and, by the feel of things, neither was Obi-Wan. Their caution was rewarded when, a few seconds later, Ahsoka came skidding back down the hallway. Her big blue eyes were dark with worry.

"A reassessment may be in order," she said. Anakin tensed. That was one of the first code phrases and gestures they'd developed for tense situations when they didn't want anyone to know what they were planning: Expect trouble.

But Anakin found himself frowning once he put the two pieces of information together. An all-clear, but with the expectation of trouble? What did that mean?

Catching his confusion through their bond, Ahsoka added, "Admiral Tarkin just turned the conference room into a witch trial."

Obi-Wan hissed out a terse breath between his teeth, the closest he ever let himself get to swearing. As one, the three of them picked up the pace, and after a few seconds, a biting voice raised loud enough to intimidate reached their ears.

"–and should anyone so much as think of betraying news of the chancellor's passing to the Separatists," Tarkin was saying – spitting, more like –, "I will have the lot of you tried for treason against the Galactic Republic and executed, as is befitting of the lowest criminals. In fact–"

As they crossed from the foyer into the conference room, Obi-Wan sped to the front of their group with a subtle warning look at Anakin and Ahsoka. "Hello, Admiral Tarkin," he broke in when Tarkin took a breath, folding his hands demurely into his sleeves. "My condolences on your loss. It was my understanding that you were a friend of Chancellor Palpatine's."

Tarkin spluttered into silence, his cadence lost, and the chancellor's staff exchanged relieved looks. The undercurrent of fear was still there, but seeping into it was... hope. A chance of rescue. As Anakin glanced between the admiral's scowl and the Jedi Master's pleasant smile, he realized what Obi-Wan was doing: he was setting himself up as a civil alternative to Tarkin, and the one the staff would be more likely to confide in if there was anything they hadn't already told Ahsoka or Anakin himself.

Clever, he thought, forming up on Obi-Wan's right side while Ahsoka took his left as Anakin's old teacher crossed into the conference room where, up until a moment ago, Tarkin had been holding court uncontested. He was definitely angry, but that wasn't the whole reason why he was worked up. It couldn't be. Tarkin had always seemed rigidly logical, and set on doing whatever needed to be done in the theatre of war as efficiently as possible – something that was worthy of respect.

Perhaps grief was bringing out the worst in both of them.

"Admiral," Anakin greeted him with a polite nod as they drew near. Tarkin didn't so much as glance at him. Anakin crossed his arms, miffed, but didn't comment. Obi-Wan may have been the fabled Negotiator, but even Anakin could feel the tension in this moment – tension he'd only worsen by calling Tarkin out.

"Might I have a word?" Obi-Wan said, hooking an arm around Tarkin's dusky green sleeve and towing him back out into the foyer. The second they'd left the servants' earshot, his charming, fatherly demeanor began to thaw. "What in blazes are you on about? Admiral Tarkin, I cannot condone this approach with individuals who may be witnesses to the chancellor's death!"

Tarkin's eyes were chips of polar ice. "You dare question the competence of my approach after the way the Order's prized Hero With No Fear bungled the simple task of escorting an errant Senator away from our investigation?"

First Tarkin ignored him, and now he insulted him? Anakin's patience was thinner than usual today – not that it was ever particularly generous to begin with – and he couldn't let that kind of talk stand, even for a grieving man. "Hey, you're–"

An elbow to the side cut him off halfway through the next word. Calculating the angle and its likely origin, he shot Ahsoka a glare. She glared right back before shifting her gaze pointedly to the back of Obi-Wan's head. Anakin growled and sent an image of a rude gesture through their bond. Ahsoka's reply was to move behind Obi-Wan, the closest cover from Tarkin's sharp eyes, and execute it.

"It's hardly incompetent, Admiral," Obi-Wan said, sounding appalled by the accusation, but the indignant flicker in his aura betrayed him to his fellow Jedi. His voice softened, regaining some of its lost diplomacy. "Merely... heavy-handed. These are not Republic officers sworn to obey your orders; they're private citizens whose job security has become questionable at best, who now have to explain their every move to law enforcement. You cannot know how they'll react to blunt coercion."

"They may not be under my command, General Kenobi, but they swore an oath to serve the Republic when they came into the chancellor's employ." Tarkin's eyes narrowed. "That counts for much, as you'll soon see."

"As the Council's choice of investigator, Anakin may have something to say about that," was Obi-Wan's only retort.

Catching Obi-Wan's drift, before Tarkin could interject, Anakin said, "While the both of you have my utmost respect, Admiral, you and General Kenobi are here only as observers. I welcome your advice, and hey, you can even badmouth my way of doing things if you want. But unless you take it up with your superiors, you're not here to get involved." Anakin allowed himself a sharp smile. "Seems to me that observers are only meant to do what the word implies: observe."

"In that case, I anxiously await your report," Tarkin bit out, and stalked toward the grand, twisting staircases. Based on the noises Anakin heard coming from above, he assumed Tarkin was hoping to rendezvous with the forensics crew before Anakin and Ahsoka could start watching him too closely.

Well, tough luck, Anakin thought, grinning. Serves you right, thinking you can slight me and get away with it. "I'm going to check out that bloodstain we heard about. Someone had to keep an eye on Tarkin, anyway."

"Right." Obi-Wan nodded to Ahsoka. "Come along, Ahsoka – someone should console those poor servants, too."

"You're the nicest by a long shot." She frowned. "What could I do?"

"I may have the gentlest manner of the three of us," Obi-Wan said with a longsuffering smile, "but you, Padawan, have the advantages of youth and a less threatening size than an adult Human male. That may set some people at ease."

"Just because you said that, I'm going to outgrow the both of you."

Anakin snorted. "Good luck with that, Snips. You got your species' only growth spurt two years ago, and that barely gave you three more inches."

Ahsoka rolled her eyes. "Montrals, Master, montrals."

"Those count?"

"Anakin," Obi-Wan blew out around a sigh. "We waste time."

"Oh, sure, blame me," Anakin said, just for the satisfaction of the last word. Obi-Wan's raised eyebrow quelled the little rush of victory before he could really enjoy it, and as he made for the staircase in turn, he murmured, "Sorry, Master."

As the pair stepped back into the conference room – Ahsoka angling her head so Anakin could see the derogatory roll of her eyes, which he probably deserved – he took the steps two at a time to the stately second-floor reception room. He couldn't see Tarkin in the crowd of specialists combing the area for anything out of the ordinary, but he could sense a fierce maelstrom of anger turning around on itself not far away. Not wanting to waste a moment, Anakin put his hands on his hips and said in a loud voice, "All right, which one of you is Lieutenant Chiikwa?"

A Zeltron of about thirty Standard with tapered eyes and close-cropped blue-black hair stepped forward, switched a datapad to their – her? no, the neutral pronoun felt right to him in the Force – left hand to offer Anakin a prim salute with their right. "Dasir Chiikwa at your service, General Skywalker."

"At ease. Now, tell me more about that bloodstain."

Lieutenant Chiikwa motioned down a hallway on one side of the reception room. "It's in the corridor leading toward the chancellor's bedroom suite," they said, and began walking in that direction. "Our people just got a sample to the lab a few minutes ago, but the heavier-duty spectroscopy scanners we have here have been working on it long enough to churn out some preliminary findings. The blood is Human, biologically female, and the genetic code is similar to records we have on file of one of the cleaners: a Ms. Dubor."

"Similar?" Anakin echoed, frowning.

"Yes, sir. It would be a perfect match if not for a few strange distortions. Our working theory is that someone hit it with an intense cleaning product – the kind you'd use to get rid of microbial contamination. My team has seen results like these from products of the same kind before."

"And Ms. Dubor?" Anakin asked as they turned down what was, based off the angle of the fading sunlight, probably the easternmost corridor. "Last I heard, you thought the size of the stain suggested a possibly life-threatening injury."

"I did."

Anakin raised a brow. "And?"

Chiikwa sighed. "Well, sir, considering the woman is alive and kicking, we've had to revise on that point."

Anakin couldn't hold back a smile. He liked this person's sense of humor. "Anything else you can tell me? Specifics that would catch someone in a lie? That would be a big help, if I find out this was the result of foul play."

"The blood has been there thirty-four days," Chiikwa said as the pair came to a stop. This part of the manor had more of the shiny, metallic interior décor that was popular on Coruscant than the quiet stateliness of a Naboo home. "Since Ms. Dubor hasn't gone on a one-way trip to a funeral home, it's possible she took a blow to the head with something sharp enough to cut. Head injuries can bleed extensively..."

"With comparatively little damage provided nothing breaches the skull," Anakin finished. "It's different on the battlefield, but the odds are good someone on the chancellor's payroll would have access to the top medical services on the planet. Recovery from a head injury would take at most a few days."

The corner of Lieutenant Chiikwa's mouth quirked up. "My team's thoughts exactly, General Skywalker."

Anakin scanned the hallway, and spotted a squarish, heavy-looking metal vase perched on a spindly shelving unit. "That could've done it," he said. The unit's twin was just beside the corner where the bloodstain had been found, and someone could easily have moved the vase during a bout of redecorating.

"We thought of that, but for obvious reasons polished metal is easier to clean than porous wood panels. There was no residue of any kind on the vase, and without an injury to match the vase's edges with..."

"So any way we go about it, we keep coming back to Ms. Dubor. I'd like to hear what she has to say about this. You don't mind...?"

"Back here would be more of a hindrance than a help – we're just about to run some more tests – but where the stairs meet the reception room, by all means."

Anakin nodded, then lifted his comm to his face and entered the commands to activate a direct link with the matching device on Ahsoka's wrist.

"Commander Tano."

"Ahsoka, could you send up one of the cleaning ladies? Last name Dubor."

There was the sound of muffled conversation in the background for a few seconds before Ahsoka spoke again. "She's heading there now."

"Great. Skywalker out."

Inclining his head politely to Lieutenant Chiikwa, Anakin set off at a fast clip back down the hallway and through the reception room. The cleaner was waiting for him at the top of the stairwell, one darkly tanned hand tracing wide, looping circles on the balustrade. Anakin was surprised to notice the fourth finger was missing from the second joint up. What was left was marred by a long, twisting scar that stretched all the way down the hand to a large mole at the base of the thumb.

Maybe that's what caused the bloodstain, Anakin thought, but he dismissed the idea almost as soon as it occurred to him. He'd had learned a thing or two about the particulars of different kinds of injuries in the last few years, and there wouldn't be that kind of blood loss over such a wide area from a severed finger – not if the person had the sense to try to staunch the bleeding.

"Vikla Dubor," the woman said. "Call me Vik. Everyone else does... General," she added, and winced.

Thinking quickly, Anakin lifted his hands in a pacifying gesture and reassured her, "I'm not a stickler for rank. If I'm to call you Vik, then please, call me Anakin."

Vik relaxed a fraction, sweeping her scarred fingers through her short, orderly bangs. "Right... well... good. But I'm not sure what I can do for you. I wasn't even in the house when the, uh... when the chancellor was found."

"I didn't want to ask you about that, actually. Tell me, did something happen to you a few weeks ago?"

The tension snapped back to Vik's shoulders, and Anakin wondered if he shouldn't have gone for a softer approach. "I... well, a lot happened. The chancellor was busy promoting Senator Amidala's Naboo–Pantoran cultural exchange, and–"

Well, too late for a soft approach now. "The injury, Vik. Tell me about that."

"I'm sorry. I don't want you to think I'm withholding information from the investigation or anything. I was just worried it would hurt my prospects if anyone found out." She took a breath. "When you work for the leader of the literal Republic, the stakes are high. I'm just a cleaning lady, and clumsy accidents can get you fired."

"What happened?" Anakin pressed.

"I wasn't watching where I was going when I was cleaning up. I hit a shelf behind me, and a vase on top of it fell and hit me on the head... here." She reached back to part her hair, rubbing at some unseen bump or scar. "Tanil and Kushdaa found me some time after that. They told me I'd blacked out, and there was blood all around me on the floor..."

"And you kept this from your employers?"

"We hit the stain with a deep clean the second my head was clear enough to work. I made do with a bacta patch until I could get to the medcenter after my shift. I figured it was no harm done." Vik laughed tiredly, and murmured, "I didn't expect a whole damn murder investigation would come and make it look like a crime scene."

The rest of Vik's account had felt perfectly truthful to Anakin's trained senses, but something about that last sentence tickled at the back of his mind. There was more to it, more he wasn't seeing about–

A clatter and cries of alarm from below drew his attention again. He scrubbed his prosthetic hand over his face. "Stars, if Tarkin found a back stairwell and went back to harass your coworkers again, I swear..."

The Zygerrian staff member, Tanil Vitej, shot out of the conference room like a tooka with its tail on fire. Ahsoka followed a few steps before skidding to a halt, primary lightsaber unlit but held at the ready in her hand.

"Master!" she snapped in a particular warning tone she'd perfected until that one word conveyed whole conversations. Anakin didn't think more on it; he leapt, vaulting over the balustrade and landing in a Force-cushioned crouch beside her.

Obi-Wan reached Ahsoka's side as Anakin's boots hit the marble. The Jedi Master's cloak was nowhere to be seen, and Anakin could tell by the familiar tension between his brow that he too was bracing for a fight.

"What's going on?" Anakin demanded.

"She just took off. Running has to mean she's hiding something," Ahsoka bit out. "Kark it, I knew something was up with her, but I couldn't watch everyone."

Anakin threw his cloak aside and took off at a run. "Then come on!" he called over his shoulder. "She was heading for the tunnels, and if she knows her way through them we'll never catch up to her."

"Right!" Ahsoka put on a burst of speed and reached his side a second later. Obi-Wan was a little slower, but Anakin and Ahsoka adjusted to match his pace automatically. When in doubt of the resources of an enemy – if Vitej even was an enemy – it was better to engage as one unit. Besides, no one could outrun a Jedi.

There was no way. Right?

"How the hell is she so fast?" Anakin gasped out.

Beside him, Ahsoka rolled her eyes, and shot a glance at Master Kenobi. He'd been flagging, but not in a way that suggested tiredness. He'd opted for a slower run to conserve his strength now that their most efficient tactic was no good: using the Force to push themselves forward as they ran. It was more like a series of horizontal jumps than truly running, and it required concentration none of them had right now.

Not to mention it required a relatively open space – or at least a straight line. Vitej had led them down into the evacuation tunnels between the Senate buildings, the chancellor's manor, and the Temple, and though high-ceilinged and clean, the passages curved and twisted unpredictably through the framework of Coruscant's uppermost ground level. In places, beams cut across the path at odd angles, and the sharp turns could change a jump executed too hastily into a serious concussion.

Well, it would for a Human, anyway. Obi-Wan and Anakin were cocking their heads to listen for stray sounds and squinting their eyes in the low light like they couldn't see very well, and from the stronger than usual burn of their auras, she knew they were using the Force to compensate. Ahsoka had no such difficulty.

Ahsoka hissed out a curse against Humans and their dull senses between breaths. Had she been alone, she might've caught Vitej by now.

They needed a plan, and quickly. Ahsoka had no idea how many hidden exits lay along these tunnels, and a member of the chancellor's staff would've had plenty of plausible excuses to acquaint herself with them. Broadcasting her idea to her two fellow Jedi through the Force, she braced herself to put on a burst of speed.

Obi-Wan's hand brushed her shoulder, stopping her. "No, Ahsoka, wait – we don't know what we're dealing with!"

"And we won't find out unless I get out there," Ahsoka snarled back, shunting the strength she'd been holding in reserve in tensed muscles and deeper breaths down into her legs.

Ahead of them, Vitej rounded a sharp corner. When the three Jedi did the same, they found themselves staring down an abnormally straight section of tunnel – at least a klick long, if Ahsoka had to guess.

The Zygerrian was nowhere to be seen.

"Kriff this all to hell," Ahsoka hissed, jogging to a stop. Obi-Wan shot her a reproachful glare, but she ignored it. She'd find the time to look like a model Padawan once this crook was safely in custody and writing up a confession.

"There's no way she could've sprinted a klick in less than thirty seconds," Anakin said, and bent to rest his hands on his knees. "Maybe she had a speeder waiting for her? I still don't know why she didn't just steal ours; it was right there."

Obi-Wan shook his head. "Anakin, in such close quarters, we would've heard the engine for certain. No, she's cleverer than that..."

The soft whirr-click of a door sliding into its frame and locking there drew Ahsoka's attention. Or had that been settling machinery? Who knew what kinds of power lines and sewers were running through the walls of this place; after all, it had been designed to blend in with the surrounding city infrastructure.

The Force prickled, ice shards of awareness stabbing up out of the waves that washed back to her. There was a sentient life sign behind an apparently blank wall.

"Quiet," she snapped, and focused all her energy on listening.

A tooka scuffling through the wall of the tunnel on its way back to its nest. Some small rodents Ahsoka didn't recognize by aura – probably stowaways from another planet that had made their way here – shifting in their dens. And...

The fine ticks of a locking mechanism bolting shut. Smiling grimly at Obi-Wan, she ignited her lightsabers and slashed a circle big enough for them to pass through single file into the side of the tunnel. A sharp push with the Force, and the makeshift hatch fell away to reveal a cavernous room beyond.

Anakin gaped at the rows upon rows of unoccupied bunk beds styled like clone trooper barracks; the room could easily sleep several thousand people. His eyes went even wider when he saw the crates upon crates of rations and high-quality medical supplies, emblazoned with a symbol that looked like the Republic crest, only harsher... more angular. Alien.

It filled her with a sense of unease she couldn't quite explain. Something told her they had never been meant to find this place.

"Where are we?" Anakin asked, looking awed. "Some kind of emergency bunker? There's enough here to keep a cruiser's crew and pilots and a whole regiment of ground troops for months..."

"We'll come back later and find out," Obi-Wan said, pointing to a door along the adjacent wall. There was a flicker of movement there, vaguely person-shaped, wearing the same colors as the chancellor's household staff uniform. "Hurry, now!"

"If you insist," Ahsoka chirped, and took off at a dead sprint. She ignored the startled flashes of Anakin and Obi-Wan's auras in the Force and yelled entreaties to come back, flinging herself through the door a second before it closed.

The cool, slightly musty air of the Lower Levels of Coruscant whipped over her as she spun in midair and landed in a crouch, but she realized too late she was moving too fast to control the stop. Her side struck the flimsy metal handrail on the far side of the landing of a precarious metal staircase hard enough to leave a nasty bruise. The impact rattled down the handrail's poorly maintained joints in a dozen resounding clangs.

Winded, side burning, Ahsoka struggled to her feet. The Force screamed a warning, and she dodged to the side just in time to avoid an incoming blaster bolt. Vitej must've been concealing a weapon on her. Gritting her teeth, Ahsoka called one saber into her hand and deflected the next two shots, her wrist angled just right to knock a small blaster clean out of Tanil Vitej's hand.

The Zygerrian screeched at her, a hissing shriek of frustration and rage that was barely sentient. Breathing heavily, she backed down a few stairs, chattering to herself in no language Ahsoka knew.

Wait. That wasn't true.

In a flash, Ahsoka matched the inflection and the sharp clicks that punctuated every phrase of guttural groans and high squeaks to old memories, mostly forgotten now that the nightmares had passed. Her eyes widened.

The chancellor's Zygerrian servant was speaking Geonosian.

Two blue lightsabers slid through the wall beside Ahsoka, spewing tiny jets of scalding metal down onto the landing. They split from one another, carving matching arcs into the door until a slab fell away. Anakin and Obi-Wan leapt through the rudimentary hatch almost before it fell open, and with a final jagged whistle, Vitej – if it was even Vitej they were chasing – took off down the stairs.

Before their quarry could get too far, Ahsoka forced herself into a waking meditation, pushing her senses to their very limits. It was almost impossible to tell them apart in passing, but now that Ahsoka knew what to look for... yes, the space the fleeing Zygerrian inhabited was giving off two separate auras.

"Come on!" she said, tossing her cloak aside and leaping off the landing of the staircase onto the roof of an adjacent building. The touchdown on the dust-streaked duracrete was considerably more graceful this time, but her side smarted painfully when her boots met solid ground. She breathed through it and dismissed it. She'd fought harder battles with far worse.

"Ahsoka!" Anakin yelled from above, both in warning and concern.

"I'll explain later! Just follow her!" she said, and leapt to the next building across from the bunker.

At a glance, the hidden annex seemed to be the upper stories of an especially massive warehouse. Clearly it wasn't what it appeared, if the ominous feeling she'd had before was any indication, but there wasn't time to think about that now. There wasn't even time for Jedi morality, and the simple logic of waiting for allies to back her should the situation take the lingering promise of hostility and deliver on it. As she sprang into a run along a block of adjoined buildings, Ahsoka gave herself over completely to the thrill of the hunt that was threaded into her very genetic structure.

Now, there was only her, and her prey.

She tracked Vitej quickly, matching stray sounds to the passage of a sentient being at a run and snatches of the scent of sweat on fur to the Zygerrian herself even with several stories between them. Saliva pooled in Ahsoka's mouth, and her jaw hung open as much to pant for breath as it did to make ready for a killing bite.

Ahsoka drew herself back from the edge with the sacred principle that Jedi did not kill unarmed opponents – something she had to hold to, even if she couldn't be sure Vitej wasn't hiding other weapons in her loose servant's uniform. Lifting her wrist comm to her face, she opened a link to both Anakin and Obi-Wan.

"Master Kenobi!" Ahsoka barked into the comm, narrowly avoiding hurtling straight into a protruding chimney stack. "Was it the Council who oversaw building the escape tunnels? Do you know the area?"

"Not well, but–"

"Are there any food processing facilities nearby?" Muffled beeping noises intruded on the call, and Ahsoka assumed Anakin was double-checking. "The kind that would have carbon freezing units?" she added.

"There's a carbon freezing plant half a klick west," Anakin broke in a second later. He transmitted the coordinates to her, and Ahsoka toggled the stats of the active link off the comm's holographic function to pull up a map. She matched the shape of the graphic representation to a squat factory up ahead, hunching into the gap between the line of office buildings that had become her personal freeway.

"Spread out and cut her off until she has no choice but to go inside," she instructed. "I'm faster, so go I'll lie in wait and handle things from there."

She could sense Obi-Wan wanted to protest this abrupt change – takeover, if Ahsoka was being honest – in leadership without any explanation. Far more familiar with Ahsoka's style of command, Anakin ended the comm before the Jedi Master could get a word in with a simple, "We copy. Good hunting, Snips."

Ahsoka increased her speed to a dead sprint, ignoring the way her legs and lungs were starting to throb a sharper, longer-lasting counterpoint to the gradually dulling burn in her side. Within moments she'd passed the Zygerrian, whose pace was slowing (as she got more and more tired, Ahsoka could only hope), and was surging on ahead to the series of rickety-looking walkways connecting the tops of the office buildings to the factory ahead.

Beneath them was what had to be at least a three-klick drop to the ground.

Ahsoka gulped in a dry throat and glued her eyes to the walkway. She had to cross it too slowly for her liking to keep from rattling the metal – she'd learned from her last mistake – but the lost time didn't cost her. Vitej was definitely flagging, now. Anakin and Obi-Wan might even catch her before she reached the factory.

Or they might not. You can't take that chance, Ahsoka told herself, and pushed on ahead. She slipped out of the dim light of the perpetual slate grey sky that was the level above into the processing plant through an open window just as Vitej thundered across the first few feet of another walkway several stories down.

It was late enough in the day that a smaller pool of night shift workers had already phased out the daytime employees. These looked up at her blearily as she scampered past, not awake enough yet to do more than wonder why a teenager with lightsabers at her hip was speeding across the loading bay. The droids were a different story: more than one swore at her in Binary as she leapt over conveyer belts and dodged between crates of carbon-frozen food awaiting pickup.

Then, at last, she spotted what she was looking for as she pounded down the stairs to the factory floor: a vaultlike construction that, if Ahsoka had to guess, was a walk-in freezer. "Clear the area in the name of the Jedi Order!" she hollered as she came to a stop in front of it. "We are in pursuit of a suspect who may have concealed weapons on her person! Clear the area – get deeper into the factory!"

People scattered, Ahsoka's warning enough to break through the still-foggy start to the work day, and the droid loaders tottered after them. She reached for Obi-Wan and Anakin in the Force, broadcasting her position and relaying instructions to lead the Zygerrian there in quick pulses of thought and feeling.

Running footsteps and two familiar auras drew nearer. Groaning through her teeth from the strain, Ahsoka unlatched the massive door and pulled it open wide enough to admit a humanoid. Then, she dove behind a pile of crates across the hall and ripped her connection to the Force wide open.

The factory hallway burst into exaggerated sensory detail, the subtle way the grains of dust from a few dirty streaks on the metal at her back were being ground into her arm and tunic as vivid to her as gravel rubbing against her body. Vitej drew nearer, her heavy breathing and lagging steps loud in Ahsoka's montrals.

She sucked in a breath. She would only get one shot at this.

The Zygerrian streaked past, but Ahsoka's timing was perfect. She snapped her hands out, calling on the Force and pressing on Vitej's side with concussive power. Before the Zygerrian could so much as cry out, she was being flung to the side and through the door, landing in a tangle of limbs amidst the frozen foodstuffs.

The cold got her attention. With a horrified yell, she turned and leapt for the door. But Ahsoka was ready for her. She slammed her shoulder into the door and forced it shut before Vitej could get close, locking it and stumbling back to where Anakin and Obi-Wan had come to a stop.

Anakin put his hands on her shoulders, lending her silent strength through their bond. "Ahsoka, what–"

"That's not Tanil Vitej. Or at least not completely," she cut in, panting, and cradled her left arm. The adrenaline was beginning to wear off, and her shoulder stung where she'd thrown it against the freezer door. "When I was running I heard her speaking Geonosian."

Obi-Wan frowned at her, though he did cast a concerned glance at the freezer when its occupant began howling like a wounded gundark. "The Geonosians are xenophobes, Ahsoka, but it's not impossible to learn their language. Most protocol droids could teach it to you."

"Then reach out for her. There are two auras – one that's her, and one that's been lying latent until now. It's a Geonosian brain worm." Ahsoka couldn't keep from curling her lip. "Trust me, I've had way too much experience with what those things do to hosts that aren't bugs."

As one, Obi-Wan and Anakin shut their eyes. The Force thrummed around them as they reached out to confirm what Ahsoka had already sensed. When they opened their eyes again, one after the other, their expressions quickly turned grim.

It was then that Ahsoka realized the screaming, barely audible through the thick durasteel and insulation, had stopped. Warily she stepped toward the freezer, only for Anakin to butt her shoulder gently, a faint smile that was half-affection, half-reassurance on his face. I'll handle this, his body language said. Catch your breath.

Then, he flipped the latch and pulled the door open. A quiet squish sounded as he stepped inside, and Anakin angled his face to flash Obi-Wan a sheepish look. He gestured to the thin yellow worm half-squashed beneath his foot, and nausea swirled in Ahsoka's gut.

Obi-Wan pinched the bridge of his nose. "Another unfathomably rare chance to study a brain worm, and somehow, yet again, it winds up beneath your boot."

"Okay, this time it was an accident!"

Vitej stirred from where she'd collapsed on the floor. Her adrenaline spiking again, Ahsoka reached for her lightsabers. Anakin and Obi-Wan did the same.

"Goodness, why is it so cold?" Vitej asked no one in particular, rubbing her thin shoulders. "Lord Riiklen can't stand the cold, even in the dead of summer... I'll speak with the steward – yes, I will. My Lord is off at court with Queen Miraj, but if he comes back and finds the villa in such a state..." She glanced about her sleepily, and her eyes sharpened with awareness when she saw the three Jedi standing before her. "Who are you? What are you doing here?"

A sinking feeling in her gut, Ahsoka followed a hunch and asked, "Can you tell us where 'here' is?"

"Lord Riiklen's villa in the Kevishde subcontinent of Zygerria, of course." She put a pale-furred hand to her forehead. "Goodness, my head is pounding... Perhaps they assigned me to the kitchens instead by accident? I've so often told them I have a bad reaction to the fumes of the wawor fruit."

"Zygerria?" Obi-Wan echoed.

Vitej nodded.

Anakin and Obi-Wan shared an apprehensive look, and for all the confidence in the gesture as Anakin rested a hand on Ahsoka's shoulder again, their bond told Ahsoka everything she needed to know. "We may have a problem," she said.

"You can say that again," Anakin muttered, and swore colorfully.

Two years in the past, Anakin and Ahsoka, aided by Obi-Wan, have finally made a major breakthrough in their investigation into the death of Chancellor Palpatine: the discovery of a Geonosian brain worm infiltrator. However, the worm is dead, and the host appears to have lost her memory. Will the two Jedi investigators manage to glean anything useful from the Zygerrian? Could there be more subterfuge hidden in plain sight for the team to uncover? Will Tarkin be as much of a hindrance as he seems to be? Only time will tell...

Hello everyone! Apologies for the slight delay on this chapter, but, as I said, it's a long one, and required some extra love. It might've even been longer if I'd added some more description to the locations Ahsoka was moving through, but I felt like at a run, she'd be less likely to notice the details. So I let myself off the hook ^-^''

You fine folks may remember the Expect trouble code phrase from fifteen or so chapters ago, when Rex first got back into contact with Ahsoka. At the time I never actually explained what the code phrase to convey that warning was, so this chapter was a fun excuse to think of one and integrate it.

It was also a nice opportunity to give an example of something Ahsoka reflects on when she first goes to speak with Ludda at the inn. The Jedi use the Force to read people and their identities, if those go contrary to the way they've chosen to present themselves. I think it would be in bad taste to dive into someone's mind without consent, not to mention deeply un-Jedi-like, but that certain things – emotions, fears, stray thoughts, personality traits – are always coming off a person in the Force, and make up their aura like a sun's corona bursting outward as solar flares. In this case, one of the things Lieutenant Chiikwa was projecting was that they don't identify as a woman, which is how a person might perceive them if said onlooker didn't ask their pronouns. 

It was just a small detail, but it gave me joy to include it. Little things like these make a story feel more complete to me.

Next chapter (which will come June 30th, and the one after that on July 14th) we'll get back to Vader and Lux in the present as they make good on some travel plans, and prepare to counter the Rebellion from two fronts. Talk to you guys then!

"My Lord, are you certain we cannot convince you to stay longer?"

Vader bit his lip against a curse at the sound of Agent Kallus' voice. He was seriously tempted to duck down a few side passages to hide his destination, as obvious as it probably was already. He'd left most of the officers on the overbridge stunned by his abrupt arrival and even more abrupt declaration that his ship was being prepared as he spoke, and that it was his intention to leave the station immediately – too stunned, he'd hoped, for anyone to think to follow him.

It was probably his own fault that Kallus had been the one to catch up to him. Vader had a long stride to match his height, and he didn't walk slowly, even without the suit to add to his natural strength. Kallus had spent nearly three weeks scurrying at Vader's exoskeleton-enhanced heels. He'd surely built up his endurance by now.

Forcing calmness, Vader said, "I'm not the one you must convince, Agent Kallus, and convincing the Emperor of anything once his mind is made up is an exercise in futility. He has decided my presence is needed to quash unrest on Garel, and his will is law."

"Of course, of course," Kallus backtracked, and Vader narrowly kept a snort quiet enough for his vocoder to register it nothing more than an especially loud breath. Usually his tact of throwing people off their guard with whip-sharp avowals of the Emperor's power when they began to question it didn't work on Kallus. Maybe the other man was more rattled than he was letting on.

Or more elated that Vader was leaving, and hurrying after his departing guest now to put himself above suspicion.

Political muscles Vader had felt growing tougher and stronger in the last few months tensed, searching for clues in Kallus' manner. There was nothing there he could see, and questing probes with the Force came back blank as soon as they hit Kallus' mental defenses, but perhaps if he asked a few careful questions...

No. Vader had to remain resolute. Any sign of being more than the Emperor's attack dog, tunnel vision-blinded to anything but the task before him, and he risked tipping the rebel operative aboard the station off to his scheme. Vader had no proof, of course, but Kallus could very well be that operative.