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tabula - memswap
note: during the event, ahsoka will an amnesiac and will lose all her memories.
memories are listed chronological order.
note: during the event, ahsoka will an amnesiac and will lose all her memories.
memories are listed chronological order.
The Beginning - Melinoe
He speaks to her, about the temple, about the planet (Coo-ru-sant?), and of how everyone is excited to meet her. She asks who "everyone" is, a little snippy, and receives a warm laugh in response.
"The Jedi, little 'Soka," he responds, delighted. "The other children especially."
There are others? She didn't know that! It's exciting. She beams a smile, satisfied, and is lowered to the ground once they step into the temple. The child rushes ahead of the man to look around, her short legs not carrying her very far but that matters not. Her face falls as she turns her head, trying to capture as much as she can with her eyes, marveling with wonder. This is where she's going to live?
"Yes little one," the man answers as her head turns over her shoulder with the question. "This temple is your new home. It's only the beginning too."
The beginning?
He laughs. "Well, it is a large temple!"
She chirps a happy laugh in response, easily taken in by his joke. It's a good one. This is a good place. Warmth floods her as he turns to lead her down an adjacent corridor. She looks back to the main hall, smile bright, before turning head and running to chase after his slow walk.
Youngling Days - Katsuki
A child wakes up in a room not solely hers, another bed across from hers with another child waking up just a little slower than her. The two get dressed, though she is much faster than her roommate, and once she's ready to go she's all but running out the door. In the hallway other children are leaving their rooms, some as quick as her and others knowing there is no rush. After all, they will get where they need to go on time.
Even so, the child races to be the first to their destination. A few others join along the race, excitement brimming in them. Yet as soon as they burst into the room, all of them trying to make a claim that they were there first, a woman in regal attire chastises them.
"Younglings, control yourselves. You are not in competition - being first is the prize of an arrogant child. Patient are the Jedi."
The children smile sheepishly and mutter their apologies, a couple addressing her as Master Nu in respect. She joins the chorus, but truthfully she's not that sorry.
The memories then turn to montage. There are moments where she wears a helmet and wields a training lightsaber to deflect blaster shots fired by targeting droids. Many other times she is in a training dojo, being swept off her feet, throwing punches, and teaching herself to do a flip off the ground. Few times she meditates in a quiet room full of other students.
She starts off a child, no more than five years old. As each moment of each day flips by rapid and cut, she grows into a young teen. All the while her movements become sharper, her hits stronger, and her focus clearer. This is the training of a Jedi, she thinks, unwavering and ready to tackle each day ahead.
This is all she has ever known, and all she has ever wanted.
Lightsaber - Raihan
Inside a room sits a girl, alone, sitting on her knees in meditation. In front of her is a workshop table laid out with metal pieces and a green crystal. It is flat and low enough to stand below her eye-level, specially made for a single purpose. An elderly voice echoes in her-
"Forge your lightsaber, you must. But alone you shall not be, for the Force is with you. Always remember, Ahsoka Tano."
His words were the last given to her before the doors closed. Her thoughts, momentarily drift to the other younglings in her cohort. Faces of humans, twi'leks, mirialans, rodians, arconaians - so many younglings, ready to take the next step. Is she?
She sucks in a breath and banishes them from her mind. One by one her thoughts clear away, any stray thought made to flicker, an idea she refuses to grab. As the chaos quiets inside, the crystal begins to rise up. To her surprise, and momentary loss of focus, it hums. Not just any hum - it is a song. Melodic and unique, unlike any tune she has ever heard. For a moment she thinks to open her eyes, to see it, but she reels temptation back.
One does not need to see to hear. To understand. To accept.
I am one with the Force, and the Force is with me.
Her voice repeats this refrain in mind, the only time in the memory her voice is heard. A young voice full of faith, and trusting of what she does not see. Even so, the pieces appear in her mind. The emitter, the hilt, the switch, the sleeve, and of course the crystal. Its warm yet haunting hum continues, soothing and powerful, reaching out to her. She reaches back, her hand extends-
Her eyes open. In her hand, gripped firm, is her lightsaber. A green blade hums the same melody, refined, strong. They have come to an understanding.
The Master - Tifa
"My apologies, young one. It's time for a proper introduction."
A kind bearded-man speaks as he approaches a young girl half his size, to which she tilts her head up to meet his eyes. Tall crystals stand in the distance under a light lavender skyline, as voices and noise in the background detail a busy battle station. Including the bearded-man, there is also a younger one with scruffy hair and a scar running down his eye. The girl grins and introduces herself as the new padawan learner and gives her name to them. She holds herself upright and tall even as they clearly overshadow her. No matter what, she knows this is where she belongs.
"I'm Obi-wan Kenobi, your new master."
The girl's expression turns curious, as she realizes he was not informed. This may get awkward. Shame, for them that is. Though she is at his service, carefully worded to not offend, she has been assigned to Master Skywalker.
She points to him, the scruffy haired man, already knowing full well who he is. His reputation, as well, precedes him. He is, after all, the so-called great Chosen One adopted into the Order around the same time she was. Only while she was but a few years old, he was already nine. He even made it to Jedi Knight while she only just got her Padawan rank! Favoritism much?
He immediately voices his protest, stringing an impressive amount of 'nos' together as he walks behind and around Kenobi. The girl again asserts her claim, stating that 'Master Yoda' was very specific that he would supervise her Jedi training. Is he going to question the Grandmaster of the entire Order? That sure would be like what she's heard about him so far.
"But that doesn't make any sense-"
"We'll have to sort this out later," Kenobi quickly interrupts, sensing an argument brewing. "It won't be long before those droids figure out a way around our cannons."
Skywalker huffs and agrees to check things out, but he doesn't even get a chance to walk away before Obi-wan insists he take the girl along. She grins bright, aware of the frustration she has caused, excited to begin her first day as a Jedi. After all, there is a war to win.
The Blockade - Cloud
"Commander, we've been caught in a trap!"
The voice of a man over a radio opens the memory, warning a young commander as she pilots a small spacecraft. Around her, out in the stars of the galaxy, ships converge on a dogfight in space. No matter the sound of lasers firing in a place normally devoid of any, the girl coolly responds that the man is overreacting. She orders blue squadron to stay the course.
The men listen to her order, for they recognize her as their commanding officer for the mission even over those who supervise her. Why back down? The enemy won't, and they need to be just as aggressive. There's a whole planet of people counting on them to break this blockade.
"I'm ordering you to return to the ship! We're going to need your help."
And then, after a beat, a younger man's voice sternly agrees. "Ahsoka, it's too risky. Get your pilots out of there."
Frustrated, she continues the pursuit against their wishes. Their caution doesn't make sense to her. They can win this. Her squadron formation shakes noticeably and, just as she urges them to stay the course, a ship is destroyed. The younger man orders her again to return, to which she agrees with attitude in her snip response. After that shakeup it may be better after all, so much as she won't admit it.
But as they retreat - following orders she insists - the enemy takes the opportunity to charge their assault. One by one the ships of her squadron are blown to pieces, until the last - piloted by a soldier named Ax - is wiped out. Of the entire squadron, she alone returns to the home ship before it escapes into hyperspace. A crushing weight falls over her as she enters the landing bay, knowing her failure was their loss. More than that, it was pride and arrogance that got them killed.
All hers. Her fault.
The Lesson - Ren
"Master Skywalker. Your padawan's progress, I would like to see."
There is an air of authority, respect and decisiveness in the words spoken by the stout green man who slowly walks into the training dojo. Even as he addresses the master in black, his eyes focus on the padawan in red. She turns her head to her master, uncertain, but his nod is all she needs to trust in. She addresses the newcomer as Master Yoda, approaches, and assumes a stance.
Yoda declines, and bows to her. The girl, apologizing for an obvious error, deactivates her sword and bows back. The reasons why are unspoken in what is tradition. Yet once more before their duel commences, Yoda tells her to wield both of her blades. "Two lightsabers you have. Two, you shall use."
She activates both, hesitation clear, but wears a face of determination as they both assumes their stances. There is silence in their standoff, no one moving, and then--
--without a moment to react, Yoda charges and knocks her to the ground.
He chides her form and, pride wounded, she gracefully hops back to her feet and charges at him next. Her swings, elegant yet unrefined, sweep only into air as he dodges and sweeps her off her feet again. As she seethes on the ground, he addresses her again-
"What makes you unique, makes you strong," his voice cuts firm with wisdom as she rises up. "This you muse use. Yourself, you must always be."
She pauses, taking in and repeating his words, and once more assumes stance. The purposes of this lesson has become clear to her. With that clarity, she is ready to face the Grandmaster of the Jedi Order again.
Yoda advances again, only things are different now. The girl deflects each swing he makes, establishing a rhythm of blow for blow, tit for tat. He catches her blades and rotates them high, breaking guard, and leaps up to strike her back. Yet, just before it seems she will be cut down, her sabers cross together and meet his blade in clash. She smiles as her knees bend slightly, determined to keep strong against his weight, until he jumps back and to the ground.
Warmly, he praises her - "Done well, you have." - and once more they bow together. Imparting final words onto her, and to her master beside her, the memory fades.
The Cohort - Leo
"What is the gathering, Padawan Tano?"
Outside, on a large landing platform outside of a temple, stands a girl and a group of children. Younglings, to be more exact, the trainees of the Jedi Order. They rush to meet the girl in front of her spacecraft, one large enough to transport everyone to where they must go. The most noticeable thing about the children - Petro, Ganodi, Byph, Katooni, Zatt, and Gungi - is that only one of them is a human, and a second is human passing. The rest are noticeably aliens.
She tells them the time has come for them to build their own lightsabers. The group erupts into cheers, and she lets them have their fun for a few moments. After all, it is a momentous occasion for a would-be padawan. When the moments pass she returns to her announcement, warning them the task will not be without peril. More than that, her voice turns soft, there is no place more sacred to the Jedi.
The memory then shifts, blizzard storms howling as they all get off the spacecraft. All the children and the girl who leads them now wear bulky winter coats, protections from the elements around them, and walk slow up a wall of ice. The girl instructs them on their first task, leading the demonstration with a raise of a hand. Every child follows, lifting theirs, moving a section of the ice down to what appears to be collapse. Instead, it reveals entrance to an inner-sanctum.
The group moves inside and within the great hall of ice find a green man in the center. Small enough to perch on a small pedestal, the children address him as Master Yoda, just before he begins to address them. The girl stands to the side, allowing him to take control of the situation, a swell of pride in her heart. This is a ceremony she has participated in many years ago, around the same age as these children. She is only a few years older than them, and so she understands their excitement and desire for one of the crystals the master refers to.
To be allowed to come here once more as a guest, as a supervisor for these children, is a great honor. She hopes to repeat it many more times to come.
Visions - Kaiba
"Are you happy child? Your master... does he treat you well?"
A voice calls out from the darkness, awakening a young girl from slumber in a cavern of illuminated crystals. The girl turns her head, the voice faintly recognizable, and after moments her eyes catch the speaker in front of the burning fire she set. It is her. An older her, the tails of her horns falling in such a way to denote age. The girl stands, and makes her demands while reaching for her blade.
The woman speaks, calm and clear. She is her future, her potential. The girl raises her blades, green lightsabers sparking outward, but the woman lifts her hands to pacify. She tells the girl that seeds of a dark side have been planted by her master within her. The girl denounces the woman's claims, passionately defending her master, staring at the woman with determination. Darkness? In Anakin? Never. Though he is not the traditional Jedi standard, he is a good man. That counts for so much more. His kindness, his passion, only make him that much stronger.
Whatever trick this may be, she will not accept it. This is not her future.
The woman's voice raises in a boom that echoes in the cavern. "Be warned. You may never see your future if you remain his student. Leave this planet!"
Then a man's voice, soft and concerned, cuts. "Ahsoka?"
The girl awakens from her slumber again. Only this time outside of the vision in her dreams.
Daughter - Ann
A void, without sign of life. There is no sight, no sound, nobody. Nothing. Devoid of all life, and even death. Around, there are lines of white that form a pattern. Floors, windows, paths. The lines are thin and feel prepared at every moment to disappear.
Then a light steps forward down the path. Bright and gradually taking shape from a formless spot. The light carefully sculpts and changes and in a stretch of time (minutes or hours? days or weeks? who can be sure-) takes its final form. Long green hair flowers from the top of the humanoid figure, as the light gives way to a face, a body, clothing, born one at a time, one after the other.
It is a woman. She appears to be human, and yet there is a bone deep feeling that she is anything but. She is not even mortal, and only exists so long as the light continues to burn.
The light, as she steps forward, dulls. It makes her easier to see, but it is clear she is in pain. No... no, that isn't right. She is not in pain - she is sad. Struck with grief, as she gazes with pity. They are the eyes of compassion witnessing another's pain.
The Jedi's pain.
Have you begun to feel again? My brother's power is strong. No one is immune to the poison.
The poison... yes. Yes, she remembers now. It's coming back to her. The Son, the memory of his visage coming back to her, as he tapped a finger to her forehead and killed her. She was made to fight Anakin and Obi-Wan, though she cannot remember why or how. They spoke, but the words were not hers. Not entirely at least.
Then, you are-
Yes. I am Daughter. I am glad you have remembered. It means the transfer is working.
Daughter's voice is strong with comfort and it melts her anxieties away. However what does she mean? The... transfer?
My life has come to an end, just as yours did, at the hand of Son. However, that does not mean we must both suffer this fate. You are young, and your time is not now.
The Daughter smiles, though it is not a happy one. Yet to call it sad would also be wrong. It simply is.
Your Master is nearly finished. Soon, you will leave Mortis and return to your life as it was.
What will happen to you? You will be gone.
No one is ever really gone. There will always be light, and there will always be dark. Together, they will balance. You will be part of that balance, as will your friends, your foes, and everyone in between.
The Daughter steps forward and raises a finger. It brushes warm against skin, wiping away a gentle wet damp as she pulls it back.
Do not cry. You will not even remember this. The pain will be but a dream. One day you will return here. For now, you will go back there.
No--
Farewell, child. I will be watching. Always.
The girl gasps for air, body jerking up as her lungs fill and expel excess in a string of heavy coughs. Before she can fully open her eyes a pair of arms embrace her, bringing her in close with warmth and care. Her senses are dull and slow to return, but once she is pulled back she sees it is her Master. She turns from him to a bearded man, weakly asking what's going on.
The man, smiling, responds vaguely "Um... not much. It's good to see you."
Judgment - Seph
In a dimly lit lobby, four people walk forward. Two faceless guards shroud in white, a man with a scar over his eye, and a girl in red. They step onto a platform, which in no wasted time begins to rise. The platform passes through a gate and the outer ring stops at the base. Only the inner ring, where the girl alone stands, continues to reach to the tallest heights of the vertical chamber. Once it stops she looks up to a group of men, stationed at their seats far above her. Two are human men, the other three aliens of various races. Silently they gaze down at her.
She knows they are prepared to pass judgment.
"Padawan Tano, serious charges have been levied against you. How plead you?"
The girl proclaims her innocence in no uncertain words, speaking from her heart and raising her voice to be heard by those who would think otherwise.
The men begin their interrogations, their voices controlled and without the same emotion as her responses. They use recent incidences against her, continuing even as she denies their accusations. She admits her senses are clouded, to which the oldest of the group agrees - for her and for many other things. It is neutral, as much as they can make it sound.
"You've already made your decision, haven't you?" The man with the scar growls from below, his voice carrying even from so far down the room. She cannot see him, but one need only hear the anger in his voice. "This meeting is just a formality!"
The room is silent for a moment, and the old green man declares a decision has been made - even if they are not in agreement. The bald man concludes-
"It is the Council's opinion that Padawan Ahsoka Tano has committed sedition against the Republic, and thus will be expelled from the Jedi Order."
"You can't do this!" screams the scarred man, though the girl cannot see him from her position. Her heart sinks before she can steel it. There is both grief and vindication. She knew this is how it would end.
Another one of the men begin to explain how she will be stripped of rank, turned in to the Republic courts to await her trial, but she only hears it as a distant echo as the memory blurs. Before it ends, a string of beads is snapped off the back of her head by a guard.
"From this moment forward, you are barred from the Jedi Order."
Barriss - Legion
In a galactic court room, steel walls shining with a silver gleam, it feels like the whole Republic has come to watch one girl sentenced to death on this day. The girl's face is broadcast on a large screen at the top center of the room, so that everyone may see the face of a killer. An expression of pain and despair, of a girl knowing what her verdict is without hope of escape.
"Ahsoka Tano," begins an elderly man, standing from his throne, playing the judge today. "By an overwhelming count of-"
"Chancellor!" calls out the voice of a man from behind.
The girl, and surely everyone else in the room, turn to see who has interrupted the court. A great offense, and one never committed. The man advances, behind him a group of faceless guards shrouded in white and another girl. He declares that she is responsible for all the crimes that the girl on trial has been accused of, to both the old man and the court. The dark clothes she wears contrasts her yellow skin, her head hung low as she is introduced by the man-
"Barriss Offee! Member of the Jedi Order, and traitor."
The only sound that echoes in the court are gasps and murmurs, this shocking turn of events unexpected when all seemed clear moments before the verdict. The girl, just as shocked. She calls out her name, voice soft with disbelief, asking if it's true. Her heart shakes with fear for what she knows is about to happen. She doesn't want to hear it. It can't be true, it can't. Barriss... her best friend, did this? The bombing, the murders, the framing.
Why?
The man, called Skywalker by the old man, tells Barriss to tell the truth with threat in his voice.
Barriss, uncertainty in her expression, steps forward. The screens switch to her, capturing a confession for a whole Republic to witness. And even though this memory is not hers, her confession is the strongest thing remembered:
"I did it. Because I've come to realize what many people in the Republic have come to realize, that the Jedi are the ones responsible for this war. That we've so lost our way that we have become villains in this conflict, that we are the ones that should be put on trial, all of us!
And my attack on the Temple was an attack on what the Jedi have become: an army fighting for the dark side, fallen from the Light that we once held so dear. This Republic is failing! It's only a matter of time."
There is no sound that follows. The old man orders the guards to take her away, and she turns with a mournful expression. Despite her words, her voice, her tone, was not fill with hateful anger or venom. It was fear, desperation, and without hope.
This is what the girl thinks as she watches her friend - for that is what Barriss was truly - taken away. One of the strictest Padawans in her belief in the Force, in the Jedi, has lost her hope in all that they do. In all that they are. Even as she returns the smile of the man who brought Barriss in, she can only hold it for a few moments before her true feelings surface on her face.
She is saved, but she is not happy. It only affirms the doubts she has had since this incident began.
Maul - Parsee
"Were you not cast out of your order?"
A palace throne room broken and in disarray opens the memory of two. A tall horned man with jet black skin and red facial markings addresses a woman wearing a blue uniform that denotes her loyalties. They know of each other, but are not acquainted until this moment. No introductions are necessary and so he begins with interrogation.
The woman makes clear she left, firm in her decision, and he retorts that it was the hypocrisy of her order that led her to that choice. She bites back a response, as if he could ever speak for her and all the reasons she walked from the only life she ever knew. However there is no malice in his words - he acknowledges they were both pawns in a grander scheme. Their argument across the hall ensues as he makes claim that the world order that they know is about change, and that it is too late for the Jedi to stop it. She doesn't believe him, in any of it. Together, he drawls, the two of them can.
"Every choice you have made has led you to this moment."
[ Clip ]
The glass windows of the hall shatter from the siege outside, and the woman contemplates in silence. A lot races through her mind with so little time to dwell or deliberate. The man, Maul, is someone she has heard many rumors about. He slayed one of the most beloved Masters in the Order, a man from before her induction, and was thought to be killed not long after that. Now he has usurped the throne of a once great nation and orchestrated civil war. To what end? He doesn't care about any of them. He also does not care about her.
She agrees to his offer, carefully choosing her words, but only if he tells her what he wants with 'Anakin Skywalker'. In mind she has no intention of joining with him, but she must make him at least believe for the moment. Anything to get him talking, as he so loves to do. The man scoffs and details how he has been groomed to take the position of an apprentice to his former master, Darth Sidious.
Fear, anger, heartache, denial. These feelings flood the memory as the woman calls him a liar and takes hold of her blades. The man's vision is flawed. Her Master, Anakin, would never fall to the dark side. To even make claim is blasphemy. If he has no useful information, then there is no need to continue negotiations.
"I see the padawan needs one last lesson."
He wields a metal hilt horizontal as two blades burst to life on both sides. The battle of light and dark begins ]
Clones - Cole
In a mechanical control deck, an alarm screams on and off at every other beat of a second. From a window looking down below, a small army of men in uniform and helmet stand strong and in wait. It is clear, as they look up to the window, their attention is directed at the two in the control room.
One of the two is like them, another soldier clad in helmet. The other, a woman assessing the situation. Together, they plot an escape. The soldier proposes they put up a fight against the men below. The woman gently refuses because they both know there are too many. Besides, she doesn't want to kill them. She has been fighting them off for hours, running and hiding everywhere she can on this ship. The memory recognizes that even the soldier in front of her, another like them, had turned his guns on her earlier. She took a risk and saved him from the chip that made him do it, plating on the side of his head proof of her rescue.
There is no chance she can save the others in the same way. It's life or death now. She will choose life, as she always has.
The solider disagrees.
"I hate to tell you this, but they don't care. This ship is going down and those soldiers, my brothers, are willing to die and take you and me along with them!"
No words follow, the screeching alarm continuing in haunting refrain. However, suddenly, it muffles and a clarity comes. The woman steps toward the soldier, sadness in her eyes, and reaches to lift his helmet off. The soldier, tear-stained, looks away in a fool's attempt to hide his pain. A pain they both share in knowing he is right.
The men down there are good. The woman makes no uncertain word of it. No matter what may come, even if they are willing to die, she will not be the one who kills them. There is no question of how she will see it through uttered or asked. They both know she won't back down from this. Her partner looks at her grim.
"So we're just going to surrender? Admit defeat?"
No.
"Well, I don't see any other option."
Their eyes cascade downward as the memory fades.
The End - Hornet
A wasteland expanding into an orange horizon, a massive structure looming up ahead in ruin, and helmets spiked into tall pipes in front of solid mounds of dirt. It is not the site of a battle or a ceremony - these are mass graves. To count each and every one would be overwhelming, inviting pain like throwing a boulder into the ocean knowing it will sink to the floor. Why bother? It won't change. She must save her strength, in body and spirit.
Each of these graves has a name. Not written, never spoken, but echoing in the memory. Slow and quiet, a list that could go on and on, a name for every soldier, every man, they are putting to rest. Among the graves walk two people. Together they drag the bodies, dig up the ground with their hands and shovels, carefully lay the corpse to rest, and spike a helmet - a soldier's helmet - atop the ground they now rest in.
One of them is a man, bald and harried, who resembles the faces of every man buried to a near identical degree. The other is a woman, long white and blue tails falling from her head, orange skin bruised and patched in the dirt. Neither of them proposed the idea to bury these men - they simply knew they must.
They know every soldier, every man, put in the ground. Though they did not kill these men, and even though these men tried to kill them, none of that matters either. They were good soldiers and they will be treated with respect.
The memory flashes through each of these scenes, from the dragging, the burying, the spiking, never lingering too long. The last fragmented scene looms long over the end of their work. The woman, now cloaked in grey, looks over the graves. It gives her no relief, because she can only think there was more she could have done. If she had done this, or that, maybe they wouldn't have to bury anyone. The most she feels is gratitude for all they had done in their lives, however short they were.
She holds a metal hilt in her hand, heavy in palm, and finishes her lingering gaze with letting it roll off her fingers and fall to the ground with a thud. This is the end. Her footsteps walking away are the last thing heard before the memory ends.