Sneak-Peek of Crown Of Lazarus Arc 4 for Revenge Of The Fifth!
Here's a small sneak-peek of the first part of the first chapter of Crown Of Lazarus Arc 4 ;)
Chapter 1: HEAD UNDERWATER, STONES ON MY BACK
This was bad. Ahsoka knew this was bad. She had screwed up - no, kriffed up so completely and utterly royalty. She had been so sure of herself, when the battle had started - so sure that she could carve a way through the Separatist blockade over Ryloth, so sure that she could lead the squad of fighters she had been placed in charge of to victory.
But she got too cocky. Enemy reinforcements had arrived at the exact wrong time, but she was so sure that she could still make it, that they could still get past the blockade-
And now the clones, the lives she had been tasked to lead and protect, the lives that Anakin had put in her care, were gone, dead, atomized and floating endlessly through the cosmic abyss over Rhyloth.
She felt tears well in her eyes as she sat in her fighter, shame and regret and guilt and grief and horror and a million other horrid, awful emotions storming her, and her throat was choked with tears and she was shaking and she felt like she was about to throw up and pass out-
A soft rapping on the front of her fighter caught her attention, had her eyes shooting up and, through her blurry, swimming vision (when had she started hyperventilating?) she saw Smoke standing there, helmetless, brown eyes wide.
He hates me, she thought. I killed his brothers. He hates me. He's going to yell at me. Anakin hates me, too, that's why he's not here-
She fell into sobs, curling in on herself as she felt the Resolute jump to hyperspace.
“Commander!” She heard him call, his voice sounding faint and far away. “Shavit, she's having a panic attack - Coyote! Coyote! Get your shebs over here!”
The fighter opened up, and she sobbed harder, hiding her face in her arms as she curled up into the smallest ball she could, shame so potent and heavy in her body she thought she would start bleeding it out her nose.
“Commander, Ahsoka, ad’ika- calm, calm, calm,” Smoke was saying, resting his head on the edge of the fighter so that his head was slightly lower than hers in a posture of worry and care. “Please, ad'ika, udesii, udesii.”
Ahsoka didn't know what the words meant, but the low rumbling tones of Smoke’s accent when he said them had her unfurling from her ball, crawling out of the fighter and into his arms, sobbing so hard her vision began to black out.
“S-Smoke- I-I’m s-so s-sorry-” she blubbered, her shame only growing as he squeezed her tight. She was acting like such a pathetic child, after she had just gotten her squadron killed, and oh Force Axe and Swoop and Kickback and Tucker were all dead because of her-
“It's not your fault, ad’ika, it's not your fault, it was bad luck, it's not your fault,” Smoke was murmuring, rubbing soothing circles on her back.
“Nobody blames you, kid,” Coyote chimed in. “We all know it wasn't your fault. This is war. That was a trap. We all have to just get over it and keep on pushing through.”
Ahsoka sobbed harder at his words. How could she possibly ever ‘just get over’ what she had just done?! Smoke gripped her tighter, undoubtedly glaring daggers at the other clone.
“Wait, no- that's not what I meant- argh,” Coyote growled. “I was trying to tell you it's not your fault and that nobody hates you or blames you for what happened.”
“A-Anakin,” she sobbed out.
“He’d be here to say the same thing, if he could,” Smoke told her fiercely. “He’s just, uh- busy, right now.”
The lie rang out in the Force, and she sobbed harder.
“Y-You’re lying!” She wailed. “I c-can f-feel it! He h-hates m-me!”
“Kriff, Smoke, just tell her the truth,” Coyote growled. “Kid, he’d be here if he could, but right now he’s currently pinned under about three metric tonnes of vulture droid and space wreckage right now in what remains of the bridge.”
Ahsoka’s breath stopped as Smoke let out a sharp, scolding, affronted “Coyote!”
“He’s alive!” Coyote defended, and Ahsoka went limp with relief, a rush of very confusing emotions surging through her. “Just, well, trapped. But! Don’t you worry about him, because Rex, Appo, Kix, Scatter, and Admiral Yularen are all handling it. He’ll be out soon, bruised and probably needing a few hours in the MedBay, but he’ll be totally fine.”
The Force didn’t sour and ring out like Coyote had just told a lie, but rather it gave an odd little flutter at the statement - Ahsoka sniffled, brow scrunching up in confusion as she tried to figure out what that meant, but exhaustion hit her like a flood wave and she let out a large yawn.
“You need to rest, ad’ika,” Smoke told her gently yet firmly, lifting her up. She clung onto him, nuzzling her face in his shoulder, beginning to walk out of the hanger. As they wandered through the halls, she continued to cry softly, no longer hysterical but still deeply upset, but Smoke didn’t judge or say anything, simply started to let out a series of loud, low hums as they walked.
“...What are you doing?” She asked after a minute, her voice a hoarse whisper, wavy and weak and watery from all the sobbing she had been doing.
Smoke paused in his stride, letting out an embarrassed cough that felt strange against Ahsoka’s montrals.
“Ah, well, General can purr, and I can’t, but I know it makes you feel better, so I- I figured I’d try,” Smoke muttered, and Ahsoka didn’t need to see his face to know how red it must be.
Ahsoka grinned, letting out a squeaky little purr of her own. It was something togrutas could do, albeit not well - vestigial purring phonation, the scientific term for it was. Anakin’s loud, deep, rumbling purrs that felt like soothing thunder or a faraway landslide were something that, as far as she knew, was unique to him and a select few other species.
Smoke carried her the rest of the way to her room, keying in the code that she sleepily murmured to him before setting her down inside, swaying slightly on her feet as she regained her balance.
“I’ll grab you some water and some snacks,” Smoke said. “You do… whatever you need to do.”
Ahsoka nodded, forcing herself over to the ‘fresher to wash her face, taking a quick sonic shower before stepping into her softest pair of pajamas, curling up in her bed under the numerous blankets Anakin had collected for her. Just as she was starting to drift off, Smoke reappeared, a huge basket of various jerkies, salamis, sausages, and carnivore candies in his arms.
“General always makes sure we have a big stock of these,” he explained, setting it down by her bed as she gaped.
“Okay, why are you saying it like that?” She asked, shaking her head as she grabbed a piece of jerky, hungrily ripping the package apart and devouring it.
“...Saying what like what?” Smoke questioned, shifting nervously.
She narrowed her eyes at him.
“You keep saying ‘general’. Not ‘the general’, just ‘general’. Why?”
“Oh… Have I?’ Smoke hummed non-convincingly. “Must just be a weird new habit I picked up… Anyway, I have to get back to duty, but if you need anything, Coyote’s available okay bye-”
Smoke practically fled the room, leaving her completely flummoxed as to what his deal was before she decided that she didn’t really have the emotional capacity to care, instead laying down to eat jerky and fall asleep.
She was out within seconds.
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