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Ahch-To

Ahsoka paged through the ancient Jedi texts one more time, careful not to turn the pages—literal pages—too quickly for fear they would disintegrate in her hands. It’d been months since she’d come to Ahch-To and found the library that was almost all that remained of the first Jedi temple. Since then, she had read and reread the books, meditating on their meaning, returning to each book in turn after she’d finished with another one so she could place them in the fullest, most intimate context.

It had taken her much time, much expansion of her limited worldview in order to see through the eyes of those long-dead Jedi mystics. Even more to translate and commit their words to holo; she nearly had a conniption at the thought of this ancient wisdom being entrusted to frail paper for so long.

Imagine if some idiot had burned it.

But now, after years of searching and months of research, she thought she had grasped the smallest principle of that original, unrefined vision of the Force. She didn’t consider herself a Jedi or a master of anything, but she at least knew more than she did before. Enough, perhaps, to save her friend.

If Ahsoka had difficulty grasping the concepts of a galaxy where hyperdrive travel was nigh-impossible and the Republic itself was a distant dream, she had no problem whatsoever recalling that night fifteen years prior. The Jedi Order had fallen, the Republic been broken into something it had never been meant to be, and Anakin… she couldn’t even think of what had happened to Anakin.

All that was left of him, it seemed, was Padme, and she was critically wounded, barely clinging to life after having delivered her twin children.

It had been decided. Obi-Wan would look after Luke. Bail would defend Leia. And Padme would be frozen in carbonite. There was talk that perhaps, in time, new bacta technology would allow her to be healed… but the unspoken truth was that after losing so much, none of them could bear to let her go, even from the semblance of life carbonite freezing offered.

And so for fifteen years, Ahsoka had protected her. Escorting her far from the Empire, so that at least her friends could know that all wasn’t lost. Maybe she was little more than a symbol, but Ahsoka didn’t care. She wouldn’t give Padme Amidala up.

And in the dark corners of the galaxy, she heard rumors of the Jedi. Tales untouched by time, unvarnished by Republic holonews or CIS propaganda. Tales that even whispered of Jedi who could bring the dead back to life.

It was nonsense, of course. Dead was dead. Once a soul was one with the Force, there was no returning to the body, any more than a butterfly could return to the chrysalis. But she detected a seed of truth in those stories. Perhaps an injury—even a grievous injury—could be healed.

Certainly, she had known Jedi who could achieve amazing feats, showing that what the Force truly was, was Life itself. So she hunted. Scoured. Following every rumor, every whisper, as if she were winding the root of the Jedi back to the very beginning, long before she had entered or left the Order. And then, finally, she had found Ahch-To. And now, finally, she felt herself ready.

She went to the carbonite slab and accessed the control on the side. She couldn’t bear to look at Padme, though her eyes helplessly ran to her. The statue she had become. Somehow regal, graceful, not showing the suffering she was in even as the carbonite froze her in time. Ahsoka began the defrosting process, watching as red heat ran out of the mechanisms alongside the slab, warming the frozen carbonite gasses, reviving the barely-alive body within.

And as they did, Ahsoka reached out with the Force, just as the books had taught her. She felt out Padme’s tiny, straggling life and saw the network of energy that should sustain her, how it twisted and convoluted where it should’ve been flowing freely. And, with an artisan’s light touch, she bridged the gaps—pushing new life force into Padme—watching it flow into the parts of Padme that had been strangled and dying when the carbonite freezing had taken hold of her.

As life rushed into the healthy part of her, Ahsoka spread it through the damaged portion of her body too. The shock of returning life should’ve killed Padme, but instead, it woke her, pushing her stalling life through her veins and arteries, restarting the process of biology that had come nearly to a standstill.

When Padme breathed, it was with all of her lungs, and the oxygen stretched into all of her body.

“Ahsoka… Ahsoka, is that you… I can’t see…”

“It’ll pass,” Ahsoka assured her, wondering how Padme knew it was her if the carbonite freezing had affected her vision. Perhaps the feel of her had translated into Padme’s senses along with the life she’d shared with her. “It’s alright. You’re safe now. You’re going to live.”

“Where am I? What’s happened? Ahsoka… what’s going on?”

“That’s a long story. And I suppose our first priority should be getting close enough to the Holonet to find out exactly what’s going on; it’s been a while since I’ve checked the news myself. But don’t exert yourself. I’ll tell you all I know. It’s been fifteen years. The Emperor—Palpatine—is still in power. And as far as I know, your children are safe.”

“What about Anakin?”

“That’s… more complicated.”