Word came from Kuro that afternoon.

Alynna––

A friend of a friend in the kitchens managed to get me the comm code you asked for. She passed my name and yours along to our allies, and when they got in touch with me, I told them of your plans – nothing specific, I promise, and certainly not the history you told Ashalla and me not to speak of. Just enough to give you a chit of admittance.

I hope you're not angry with me for that; I know I'm walking a line, but I would so hate to anger you when you take such risks as it is. I only thought you'd do better with them if you had someone to make an introduction.

They told me they'll meet with you, and asked me tell you to go to the Moonspinner Inn tomorrow morning or afternoon and ask for Ludda. The address is attached, and the owner and staff can be trusted. No one will ask questions.

If your absence tomorrow would be noticed by the wrong people or you think someone reduced the range of your tracker again, I'm to pass along the comm code so you can find a better time together. Since you aren't known to them, our friends would prefer to risk a meeting than a comm code that could be used to track them. I'm sure you can understand that, of course.

I hope this helps.

Kuro.

Ahsoka reread the message projected above her transmitter one last time as she belted a traditional Onderonian peasant's tunic over her pants. Once she felt certain she'd committed the address of the inn to memory, she dismissed the hologram and put the device back in its new hiding spot: the hollow base of a small metal sculpture adorning the low table by the couch that had become Lux's sleeping place. Then, draping a gauzy maroon shawl over her shoulders, she left the suite.

Word from Kuro less than three days after she'd asked him to get into contact with the Amavikkas had been a surprise, to be sure, but a welcome one. Even more welcome was further news that Lux would be in meetings with his father's officials all through the morning, giving her plenty of time to get to the inn, meet with Ludda, and get back. With the gala only two days away and all of Noreino House's denizens – both noble and common – in an uproar, she definitely wouldn't be missed.

Unless Lux came after her with another request like the dancing practice. But he'd retreated even farther behind his walls since then, so she doubted it.

She'd have to find Kuro once the chaos died down and make sure he knew how thankful she was he'd taken the initiative and gotten her this meeting, as well. He was so meek and apologetic, always expecting retribution even when he'd done well... But there was a time not far into the past when she'd been like that, too.

Ahsoka took the stairs down to the ground floor, following the smell of day-old booze until she reached the cool, dim hallways near the slave quarters where the brigands lurked – the same place she'd nearly been cornered a month before. Then, wrapping her shawl around her head to keep eyes off her face, she adopted the overconfident predator's gait of the extremely well-armed and joined them.

Since her return to Kyzeron, she'd been thinking long and hard about how to get in and out of Noreino House undetected. Now, with a few pointers from Kuro, she was fairly sure she'd cracked it. Zakhan Noreino had two courts: one composed of bourgeoisie merchants and rich socialites, and the other made up of the shady contractors, brothel madams, slave traders, and bounty hunters who did his dirty work in Kyzeron. Ahsoka had no chance of infiltrating the ranks of the wealthy and powerful; their faces and family names were what got them through locked doors. The scum and villainy, however, depending on how far they'd managed to worm into Zakhan's favor, were given pass cards that granted them a day's access to the palace. Passes that didn't have names or physical descriptions – only numbers.

And, in teaching Ahsoka how to avoid pickpockets, Anakin had inadvertently taught her what to look for when aiming to rob someone herself.

It was easy enough to single out the ones that in the GAR would have been dubbed 'shinies' – soldiers fresh out of training and eager to prove themselves, named for their shiny armor unmarred by the grit and scrapes of battle. The smarter shinies of Noreino House's less glamorous court moved more carefully than their fellows, not confident enough yet of their place in the pecking order to drop their guard. The stupid ones bragged, high on the near-impossible success of being here, and their arrogance gave Ahsoka the perfect smokescreen.

Ahsoka chose well. Neither her target nor the group he was regaling with extravagant (and likely false) tales of his exploits in Lord Noreino's service noticed when she filched his money pouch right off his belt, withdrew the card, and slid the pouch into the pocket of a particularly engrossed listener. Once it was discovered, the theft and still-missing pass would probably start a brawl – but by then, of course, Ahsoka would be long gone.

She left them in the middle of a charming story of battling two dozen bounty hunters, back to back with their host's Heir-Designate and guns blazing. If only they knew what Lux is really like, Ahsoka thought, and snorted.

She was still fighting back laughter after she'd left through the servant's exit, presented her pass, and moved into the street beyond. But the sound choked away to nothing when Ahsoka reached a landmark Kuro had told her to keep an eye out for if she was bound for the slums: an abstract rendition of the eight original Great Houses' crests in intertwining tendrils and dashes of fine Onderonian iron, crowned with the newcomer Noreino crest in a shimmering gold finish.

The sculpture was tastefully wrought, if a little showy, standing at the edge of the empty plaza most considered the boundary between the upper and lower class boroughs of the city. In the bright sun of a clear morning, the blue-silver and yellow metals shone like a beacon, and perhaps in a way, that was what it was. According to Kuro, the sculpture marked the furthest ranges of most Noreino slaves' trackers before the devices started sending electric shocks up the poor sufferers' spines.

Ahsoka had gleaned over the past month that Zakhan Noreino still had the controls for her tracker – just as he did for every other innocent he was holding hostage – but had changed its parameters for their travels to make Lux the center of its inactive zone rather than Noreino House in Kyzeron. He'd also granted Lux the clearance to change how large that zone was, depending on how far away from or close to her he was going to be that day.

Unfortunately, Ahsoka had no way of knowing if her tracker's range was still the same as it had been before their departure, when Lux had gone to call on the local Lesser Houses and she'd snuck off to Dashonderon – a leash with hundreds of klicks of leeway. There was a good chance she'd cross that statue and collapse to the ground. Zakhan's foot soldiers and the local Imperial troops all knew the signs of electrocution; she'd be spotted and on her way back to the palace in minutes, and what could she say then that would explain her actions?

If her tracker did come online, the pain would be debilitating – worse than a shock collar or cuffs despite the much lower intensity because it wouldn't stop. Onderonian slavers didn't want their property dead. Eventually, enough shocks would scare her into submission, or weaken her mind so much she would do exactly as commanded.

Ahsoka shook herself and took a few deep breaths. I am one with the Force and the Force is with me, she thought, turning the words of power over and over in her mind until the sweat streaking down her spine was more from the already impressive heat than nerves. There was no possible way to pass through or shield herself from something that was inside her body, even though she still couldn't fully explain what she'd done with the ray shield.

Still, the mantra gave her some comfort, and with it, she found the strength to take the first step, and the next. And the next. And the one after that. The tracker in her chest didn't flare, didn't send so much as a single warning spark zipping through her flesh; almost before she knew it, she was at the foot of the steps leading up to Moonspinner Inn's front door.

Buoyed by her good fortune, Ahsoka climbed the steps and entered the unassuming building with a confident gait and a smile on her face. She found herself in a modest taproom with dark wooden paneling, equipped with perhaps six or seven small tables. The table in the far corner was occupied by a Human of middle years with short brown hair, tan skin, and a slender build, who was nibbling at what appeared to be a late breakfast. There was no one else in the room save a short Twi'lek woman behind the counter that seemed to double as a bar and a front desk.

Ahsoka headed there first, in no hurry to probe the Force for information about her fellow patron when she didn't even dare to check how many Elites were in the area. Still, something prickled at the back of her mind when she looked at the other diner – a spark of barely-there awareness that was less the external insight of the Force and more instinct.

Before she could reach the bar Ahsoka had the strangest feeling something had alighted on her shoulder – a big palm with rough calluses, her mind supplied, which was holding her back in a silent request to wait. But there was no pressure on her skin to speak of and no information her lekku could bring back about someone standing beside her.

She paused when she realized she'd felt this phantom touch before, in the seconds leading up to her decision to go out of her way and save Ashalla. She'd thought it was some kind of memory, then; a personification of her history in the Temple, lesson upon moral lesson urging her to do what was right. Now, she wasn't so sure. This felt older than her Jedi teachings. Deeper.

The hold shifted into a pull, guiding her to that corner table. With a quiet sigh, Ahsoka took a leap of faith and did as it asked, walking over to the solitary diner's table and sitting down in one of the two empty seats.

The stranger smiled at her, nodding in welcome. "I had a feeling you would know without someone telling you. Kuro said you were very clever."

"Are you the one I'm supposed to meet with?" Ahsoka asked, crossing her arms on the table and leaning forward.

"I am Ludda. I go by they and them."

Ahsoka started. In the Temple, the Force had always given her clairvoyance enough to correctly guess her fellow Jedi's genders – or at least which pronouns they preferred – when they differed from what appearances suggested. Outside of it, the topic had never come up. It was a little off-putting to have the information offered to her so bluntly, so without pretenses.

Still, she couldn't deny it was an equally effective way to avoid any possibility of miscommunication, especially now that she couldn't always fall back on the Force whenever she pleased. After a moment's hesitation, following Ludda's example, she replied, "I'm Alynna. I go by she and her."

"Welcome, Alynna. Have you known the Mother's mysteries?"

Recognizing the ritual feeling to the words, Ahsoka answered with the closest thing she had to a defined religion: "I have known a One which is similar – pervasive, nurturing, gentle. It has guided me and protected me through many difficult times."

"I see. Kuro underlined how eager you were to get in touch with us and has told us much about your abilities, but he didn't say what you were planning," Ludda said. They had a subtle accent, a cadence to their words that reminded Ahsoka a little of the way Anakin spoke, only stronger, richer. "What did you hope to accomplish by allying with the Amavikkas, Alynna?"

Ahsoka hadn't gone into this meeting with any expectations, unsure how organized and well-connected a group she'd find herself dealing with. But this felt like a report to Command post-mission or the applications for promotions she'd helped her more skilled troops prepare for once upon a time. This a rhythm she could slip back into easily, and welcome respite.

"Sharing information and resources," she said. "I'm in the process of building a network of informants and agents to get around unjust Imperial and Great House restrictions on the common people and provide them with aid, if they need it.

"The taxes and the labors of the outer villages' miners and foresters are being used to enrich the walled cities like Kyzeron. You'd think Kyzeron would be better off for it, but the lower classes still suffer; they're always one wrong move against the rich away from being made into slaves themselves. When the social contract has been broken, they have the obligation to take the law into their own hands."

"Slavery?" Ludda arched a slender, brow as they returned to their meal, selecting a piece of flatbread and chewing it slowly. There was a delicate, almost aristocratic grace to their bearing; every move Ludda made felt like steps to a dance. "What one considers slavery, another sees as working off a debt incurred by staying too long on Onderon without permission from the government. Foreigners have to earn their keep while their applications for citizenship are processed somehow, don't they?"

"Institutionalized slavery is slavery nonetheless," Ahsoka shot back. "I live in Noreino House. The rich and powerful don't call them indentured workers – they call them slaves. They make deals with slavers to capture people from other worlds and imprison them on Onderon until even the most lenient travel visas would've expired. They lease 'indentured workers' from the government to carry out their sentences however they see fit; it's what happened to me. The Lord Imperator and his goonies in government know exactly what they're doing and who will benefit."

Ludda smiled, and Ahsoka had the distinct impression she was being tested. "And what are you doing to change it, child?"

"In the outer villages, the Great Houses make the rules. The minimum wage is protected by the Crown, but in most cases employers have a monopoly on the supplies and services their workers need to survive. If they raise the prices high enough that minimum wage won't cover basic needs, the miners and foresters get forced back to work overtime for a handful of credits just to make ends meet. Often they're not even paid at all, but the extra work will sometimes get them a bonus at the end of the month."

Ludda nodded for Ahsoka to go on.

"I organized several teams across a few dozen mining villages to smuggle iron out to processing facilities and distributors, where it can be sold for a better price," she said, exhaling a sigh of relief through her nose. It was a relief to edge out of the philosophical debate. She'd learned well under Obi-Wan's instruction, but it would never be her forte. "People I trust are in charge of making the transactions. The money will be distributed to whoever needs it to purchase supplies and pay bills to give them a better quality of life."

"So, a better future built on a foundation of deception and theft."

"Repossession – payment for services rendered but not compensated. As for the deception, well, I have secrets worth protecting."

"What's secret is sacred," Ludda said, an approving look crossing their face. It disappeared a moment later as they shook their head, dark brown bangs flying out of their eyes. "But that's a fine line to walk, Alynna. What if your new distribution of resources formed a new class of rich and powerful, who were well placed to unleash the same sort of oppression and violence on those who are suffering?"

"That wouldn't happen."

"But how could you make sure?"

Ahsoka paused. She hadn't considered this, and it surprised her that she'd never thought to doubt any of her new allies. "Perhaps I'll train some of the recruits as enforcers to hold their compatriots responsible."

"Would you use those enforcers to attack Imperial and Great House targets? Kuro said you're ex-Republic military," Ludda cut in, sharp as a vibroblade.

Ahsoka gaped. "No! No, I want to do this without violence. I have to believe it can be done without violence."

"The people in the outer villages are angry. They might not agree."

"I'm guiding their anger in the right direction."

"And yet you are the one they call Lady Kindness." Ahsoka opened her mouth to deny it, to lie, but Ludda held up a hand. "There is no other you could be. When a person puts on the cloak of myth and legend, they'll often find it much too large to fit comfortably. You've presented yourself as a messiah, and zealots will flock to you if you let them.

"But life on Onderon these last few years has made many people hard and unforgiving. Not everyone who remembers the old tales of Lady Kindness and Lord Serenity and their siblings has goodness in their heart, and encouraging them to disobey their own laws isn't going to help."

Ahsoka felt her conviction slipping. She took a calming breath and grabbed onto it as best she could, summoning enough outrage to bristle instead of cave. "My interpretation of the law allows people to support each other. And this is starting to feel like an interrogation."

Ludda smiled gently. "It's nothing of the sort. But you can't avoid the Empire and still succeed in your goals without knowing yourself and your limits. You trust your people a great deal, but it seems there is much about yourself and your goals for Onderon that you still do not know, Alynna."

Ahsoka sighed. This was going badly, and she didn't know how to fix it. She started to wish Lux were here to smooth things over, but she shook the idea away as soon as she caught herself. Lux was sequestered away behind mountains of ice and snow, and whether she should try climbing them to reach him again was a debate for another time and place. But when would that even be?

There's too much on my plate. Realization slammed down on her, bone-deep exhaustion she hadn't even felt before now her filling her like a reservoir in a flood. Ahsoka hunched forward, trying to hold herself steady against the onslaught, but she barely had the strength to hang on.

Was she instinctively seeking out the resources and connections for a long siege and bracing these people to meet it? How long would it be before she started teaching them to defend themselves, all the while running up lists of targets to strike to win the planet quickly?

Bail Organa hadn't pushed her to specify how much she wanted Onderon to progress before she left, or even if she wanted it to join the Rebellion. She hadn't even started digging into Lord Vader's interest in Onderon, and she'd promised to look into that weeks ago. Why had she let herself believe vague proclamations that she needed to help these people would convince him to let her go? Spike hadn't been wrong; the Rebellion was in desperate need of experienced Jedi to lead it.

Ahsoka rubbed a hand over her face. She wanted to leave, wanted to go back to the villa where things had made at least a little more sense, and–

And that was exactly the kind of talk she'd lost most of the last year to. Ludda was baiting her, testing her resolve by throwing her insecurities back in her face.

Rex said you're tough as beskar, and he's right, she told herself, and the voice her mind conjured to say it with was startlingly like Anakin's. Don't show Ludda your insecurities or your exhaustion. Keep going. Show them your empathy and your desire to help people. Even if it's misplaced, that kind of drive leaves an impression.

That invisible hand pressed on her shoulder again as if in reassurance. Ahsoka took a breath and forced herself to smile as she met Ludda's eyes.

"I... I've been through a lot since I was sold. I didn't trust anyone for a lot of that time, and most days, I still don't." Memories of past trauma welled up, sensing an opening. Ahsoka swept them aside with a thought. Now wasn't the time for that, either. "But to a point, necessity compels me, and if it's an equivalent exchange, it's usually safe to assume the people I'm working with won't stab me in the back.

"Still, I can't be everywhere at once – that's why I need your help. I bet you can tell I'm new to this, and I want to help as many people as I can, but I don't have the reach or the connections the Amavikkas do. After all, you've been on Onderon a lot longer than I have, and I wasn't all that productive before a few weeks ago.

"But even if I'm still learning how to organize and mobilize people, I know what I can bring to the table. I can train recruits to fight enemies in open combat if need be, but more importantly, I can strategize. I can understand a big picture. I can make sure supplies get from one place to the next. And," Ahsoka said, deciding the time was finally right to play her trump card, "in exchange for your help, I can offer you a way through the lockdown paywall preventing long-range communications."

Ludda's brows shot up. "How is that possible?"

"I had a feeling that was giving you trouble, even if you prefer to meet in person," Ahsoka said, and this time, her smile wasn't forced. "I made a friend in the outer villages who really knows her way around transmitters. I got her grandmother out of a bad situation, and in exchange, she promised to share her knowledge with anyone who needed it – and even people who didn't. The Empire and the Great Houses have taken things from everyone on Onderon, and we're stronger together, hearing each other's stories and empathizing.

"The Amavikkas protect slaves who already exist and do everything in their power to free them. What I would do – what I'm already doing – is keeping people who are nearly as vulnerable from becoming slaves themselves. We can help each other. As far as I'm concerned, we're each working one half of the same mission."

Ludda sat back in their chair, smiling just as warmly. "Would the One who protects you by any chance happen the Force, child?"

Ahsoka schooled her face into a neutral expression. "I will neither confirm nor deny that. Uncertainty keeps us safe from the Emperor's Elite storm troopers."

"What's secret is sacred," Ludda repeated with a knowing look. "The less the depuran know, the better."

Ahsoka frowned. " 'Depuran'?"

"In my native tongue, it's the plural word for a master, or an oppressor." Ludda didn't volunteer that native tongue was. "And what of your depur, Alynna? Kuro said in his message to us that he is not like most others, but you've been very prolific these past few weeks. You must be as clever as the great Shape-Changer themself to avoid discovery for so long."

"He's less a master and more a– a friend. It's his father Zakhan Noreino who presents the real problem. Lux is... good. Kind. I've seen into his heart, and I know what his father's done disgusts him."

A shadow crossed Ludda's face, but it was gone before Ahsoka could decide what it meant. "And he encourages your affection? Your friendship?"

"He doesn't really have anyone else to turn to."

"And do you know that for a fact?"

Ahsoka didn't. At first glance, Lux didn't seem to have any friends, but she didn't know everything about him; she didn't even understand why he'd been so cold lately, though she suspected it had something to do with his father's influence. She'd made assumptions and allowed those to carry her.

Ahsoka's lekku flushed. Ludda had a way of getting under her skin and pointing out everything she hadn't considered, and she wasn't sure if she liked it.

"I... no," she said finally.

"When depur is kind and welcomes your affection but makes no move to restore your freedom, he is really taking advantage of the situation."

"He isn't taking advantage!" That kiss she hadn't wanted to discuss and he hadn't pressed her on flashed through her mind. Was he being cold now because he'd taken what he wished, tasting her and discarding her to move onto better things at the gala? She didn't want to believe that. "He... he couldn't..."

Ludda pursed their lips, their eyes soft. "I've upset you."

"Well, yes, you've upset me," Ahsoka snapped.

"Then listen, Alynna – here is another story. Long ago, on a planet far from here, a clever desert girl fell in love with the slave her father kept as a stable hand for their eopies. The girl was a Child of the Mother, as her own mother had been before her, but her father was an offworlder who had become one of depur's thugs.

"On paper, the stable hand was owned by the whole family, which meant that technically, the desert girl owned them, too. But she knew that in their heart, as all Children of the Mother do, that the stable hand owned themself, and she conspired for them to escape together." Ludda smiled fondly, as though reminiscing. "She cut out the stable hand's transmitter – the equivalent to a slave tracker on their parched, ruthless world – and they fled her family's farm, following their freedom trail to a jungle planet with more water than they could ever drink."

"What happened to them?" Ahsoka asked softly, but she had a feeling she already knew.

"I married my desert girl, Tosi, and helped her open an inn that would be a safe harbor for others like me who were following freedom trails of their own." Ludda glanced across the taproom, and the Twi'lek woman shot them a fond smile.

"She loved you enough to free you."

"She did. Let this be a lesson, Alynna: be careful, and reserve your trust for those who deserve it. If your depur's son is as deserving as you believe, he will prove it to you by freeing you."

"But he– he doesn't– we're not like that. He doesn't love me."

"Doesn't he?" Ludda asked, grinning.

Ahsoka flushed darker. "But you yourself said I don't know everything about him for a fact! Hell, we only met a month and a half ago. That's too soon to know."

"Then that is something you'll have to discover that for yourself – as you will have to do for many other things, I think." Ludda put another piece of flatbread in their mouth and chewed for a long time before speaking again. "But you came here on business, and I still haven't given you an answer."

"I don't expect an answer. You'll need to discuss this with other people, first."

"I'll give you one anyway. I speak for those of us on Onderon, and I say that we will help you. But we are few, and there aren't many resources we can offer."

Light filled Ahsoka's chest, burning the dark, turbulent floodwater away with a purifying flame. "That doesn't matter," she said hurriedly. "I'll take anything you can give me. You have no idea how much this means to me."

"One of the things I can give you, though, could be very precious. I don't know your story, child, but I know the look in your eye – all Children of the Mother have it. I can offer you freedom, if you wish to take it. We have supplies here for a surgery, and Tosi has removed many trackers before yours."

The fire guttered, and Ahsoka hesitated. Freedom was a way back to Rex and the Rebellion. It was also the means to turn her little network of the oppressed and subjugated among Onderon's populace from a newborn thing still taking its first steps to a powerhouse worth reckoning with. Had Ahsoka not cut herself off from the Force almost entirely before returning to Kyzeron, she had a feeling she would've sensed a nexus here, the same as she'd felt that night in Lux's office – a thrumming convergence of possibilities.

But she still had things to do as Alynna Taari, the pleasure slave who could go places a Jedi could not. And even if Lux was acting strange, she had to give him the chance to pass Ludda's test. That ghostly hand that was foreign yet familiar pressed down on her shoulder, imbuing her with strength, and she found it in her to laugh as she said, "Thank you, but it's not time, yet. I'd be leaving things unfinished."

"The slave who makes free," Ludda murmured, and something pulsed at the back of Ahsoka's mind – a truth she could sense if she stretched for it, but not close her fingers around tightly enough to understand. "I might've known; that story that has repeated itself many times over, and it will repeat many more before the end. I suppose that means our business is concluded for the meantime?"

Ahsoka nodded. "I suppose it does."

"Before you leave, may I know your true name? Not the one the depuran call you by – the one that belongs to you and you alone."

Ahsoka shook her head. "My slave name is a dangerous enough secret to bear. My true name could kill, should the Elites catch wind of it."

"You own yourself, Alynna," Ludda said, small mouth upturned in an understanding little smile, "and you shall name yourself or remain anonymous as you wish. But for your dealings with me, allow me to give you one of our own." Ludda held their hands out over the table, and, raising a brow, Ahsoka took them.

"I name you Alynna Ekkreth, after the Shape-Changer, the slave who makes free by their cunning and sacrifice," Ludda whispered, eyes shut, and traced an odd mark over the back of her left hand. "In Basic, Ekkreth is known as the Sky-walker."

Ekkreth. Skywalker. They named me Skywalker. It felt like a sign, and tears jumped to Ahsoka's eyes before she could stop them; she had to blink fiercely to keep them from spilling over completely. Then, mumbling her thanks to Ludda and Tosi – for a mumble was all she could manage – she said farewell and left the inn.

The water still lingering in the corners of her eyes made everything around her blur as she trekked back to the palace, oiled over in a rainbow sheen. Her steps were light and carefree, and she barely felt the soles of her thin shoes hit the ground. Ahsoka had to be making an easy target for pickpockets or bored patrols of storm troopers – a confident, unaware young woman leaving poorer quarter for a more reputable borough – but neither one nor the other bothered her.

Perhaps the name Ekkreth had put some kind of protective magic on her, allowing her to move about a city still under martial law as she pleased. It was as perfect a day as a slave could ever have, and she was going to enjoy it to the fullest.

A familiar stride on a quiet street and an even more familiar scent hitting the roof of her mouth shattered the spell and brought her back to herself. On silent feet, she retreated behind a decorative outcropping on a nearby building and flattened her body against the brick. Thinking quickly, she pulled her shawl tighter around her face. The deception wouldn't hold if he came close, but if Ahsoka was lucky...

Lux paused at the intersection and brushed a fold of his cloak aside to consult at the holographic display on his wrist comm, as though checking directions. Then, nodding to himself, he turned the corner... and walked right past her hiding place, totally oblivious to her presence.

Ahsoka watched as he approached a specific building – a tall, tastefully decorated townhouse sandwiched between the half-dozen others running the length of the block – and knocked thrice on the door. It slid open to admit him, and he hurried inside without a backward glance.

She started to follow him, but the prudent streak that had kept her alive since the rise of the Empire – a prudent streak that had been largely absent in the last few weeks – decided to kick in then, stopping her before she got close to the house in question. Ludda had been right in saying that she didn't know everything about Lux. Loath as she was to believe it, it was entirely possible he was involved in something nefarious, and she didn't dare tap into the Force to check for dangers.

What if there were cams or watchers hidden in deceptive corners? How would she make her approach without being spotted – the rooftops? She'd been lucky enough already in avoiding patrols, and nothing would draw attention like a Togruta girl flinging herself across alleyways.

The Skywalker School of Improvisation had taught her well, but there were just too many variables here. With a sigh, she forced herself to continue on her way back to the palace, and the harsh embrace of feigned servitude. She hadn't thought too much about it before, the feigning. Now, something about it felt different.

Skywalker – the slave who makes free, Ahsoka thought, turning Ludda's words over in her mind. She grinned. I like the sound of that.

Fulcrum to the Rebellion, Lady Kindness to the Onderon dissidents, and now Alynna Ekkreth to the Amavikkas, Ahsoka has gained a new ally and new clarity to match. Will Lux pass Ludda's test in time to convince Ahsoka his intentions are good, especially now that he's been acting so weird? And what is the meaning of the phantom touch Ahsoka keeps feeling even when she isn't open to the Force? Is Ludda's decision to give Ahsoka Anakin's name a coincidence, or a sign of something more at play here? Only time will tell...

In this chapter I borrowed VERY VERY HEAVILY from the fan works of the illustrious Fialleril, whose rich, beautiful fanfics can be found on AO3 and many headcanons about Tatooine slave culture can be found on Tumblr. "The Slave Who Makes Free" and "Trickster Steals the Moon" from the Double Agent Vader series are the ones that played the biggest impact on this chapter, hence the title. Would highly recommend a read, by the way, because the whole series is fantastic, but I'm still going to make everything I reference as clear as I can for people who don't want to consult secondary texts just for SOTE!

Though with their permission I've used planets and characters created by a few fellow Wattpaders in the past, usually I'm hesitant to use this level of world building from other creators. Honestly, though, I've reread these pieces so many times it feels like canon and I can't imagine Tatooine slave culture any other way. (For example, in the language of the slaves, when introducing yourself you also state your pronouns after your name, which I alluded to here with Ludda.) So in the absence of doing my own thing, I'll give huge thanks where thanks is due.

I'm excited for you all to get to know Ludda. They're a fun character and a really helpful way for Ahsoka to confront the trauma of the past year, as well as some other things that have been challenging for her this past month. Now that she's had some time to come back to herself, she'll be thinking a little more deeply about what got her into this mess in the first place and kept her there. Only once she has a spare moment, of course – she wasn't kidding when she realized she's really overloaded.

Also, I'm sorry this chapter is late, friends, but WOW I have been absolutely dead this week. Creative muse? Don't know her. Willpower to get out of bed? Checked out last weekend. I feel like a bit of a jerk for saying I won't post another chapter next week... But you guys remember how I was with the Rhythm of War release? No spare brain cells for ANYTHING. Shadow and Bone just so happens to be dropping tomorrow, and I can already sense I won't get anything else done before next Wednesday.

But, to make up for it, here's a sneak peek of the next chapter, which I'm hoping will be well worth the wait.

She kept herself still for a long moment, studying him, before a slow, blinding grin split her beautiful face. "It's perfect," she said, and it was.

Wearing this piece kindled a curious feeling in his gut – nostalgic and a little conflicted, certainly, but to his surprise, not unpleasant or aggrieved. Pride. 

As well it should, Lux thought, grinning. He looked like a prince.

"Lux, this is..." Alynna started to reach for him, then seemed to think better of it. "I mean, you've got lots of nice clothes, but the way you wear these ones..."

Forgetting he was supposed to seem cool, to appear unattached, forgetting all of it, Lux grabbed her hand and squeezed it. "You'll come to the gala, won't you?"

"I told you how I am at parties – and I doubt anybody would want me there, beyond the types with wandering hands."

It was a test, but Lux knew how to pass it. "I'll want you there. Please, let me share the night with you. Once the thrill of the fine clothing and finer wine wears off, I know I'll be miserable." He took a breath. "This is the last favor I'll ever ask of you."

She raised a brow at him. "You think you can keep a promise like that?"

Lux couldn't answer that. His plans were still too fragile, too new. He couldn't be sure he'd be able to free her and get her away without his father finding out – let alone do it all quickly. She smiled at him anyway, as if she somehow understood, twining her fingers through his and pressing her cheek to his shoulder.

For a long time, they said nothing – just stood gazing at the ethereal prince of silk and silver in the mirror before them, and the warrior he loved standing beside."

Talk to you all in two weeks!