My Crack Headcanon is Sith use holocrons for two reasons: 1) horcuxes, 2) blackmail. The Sith Empire would make Game of Thrones look like kindergarten so every Darth worth the title has extortion-worthy evidence on all those other Darths they know.
Now since they're Sith, its not morally dubious stuff because all they care about is power. So they record their rivals being pathetic dumbasses. All Sith blackmail is basically Evil Space Wizard’s funniest home videos.
Fond of spitting upon rivals in death, their last words to any Jedi killing them are usually along the lines of “blackmail’s in the seventh obsidian-clad vault. Top shelf. To the left. Key’s in the Krayt Dragon’s skull.”
Of course these vaults were also Tomb of Horrors worthy trap-filled dungeons so either the Sith would off their killers or said killers would use their blackmail material on their rivals. Win-win.
Tragically all the Jedi's blackmail material on the Sith no longer applies to any living Sith or the Clone Wars would've been over real quick
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Working with Obi-Wan Kenobi’s grand padawan was…different. He had heard a lot about Skywalker and Kenobi as a team through many forms – propaganda, gossip, billboards, reports, victories, losses, campaigns. They were a popular topic. They seemed to pull off some of the most insane mission parameters and come out alive from fighting varying horrifying villains and Separatists, darksiders and Sith.
Feemor quickly figured out Ahsoka was quite a bit like Anakin Skywalker. Which sounded awful, now, knowing what he had done and what he had become, but he had meant it in a better way. At least, nothing that extreme. She was fast paced and protective with a strong sense of justice and a decent moral compass. She didn’t seem to understand some of the intricacies of governments, politics and the war effort, she cared about the people. She seemed to go back and forth between cynicism and belief in people. It was an interesting combination.
He wondered if Obi-Wan could help her smooth out some of those more high-strung tendencies.
Then again, Feemor didn’t really know Obi-Wan very well either.
Feemor and Ahsoka spent most of the evacuation helping groups of people and shuttling themselves back and forth with supplies. A few recovering 501st and a of couple Coruscant Guard had joined them on one of the trips. They had lost Rex quickly into the evacuation, before even their first trip back to Ahsoka’s ship. Luckily Feemor had spotted what had happened with him and had to quickly explain to a near panicking Ahsoka that he had simply helped a padawan carry a trooper to the medical bay for surgery when she noticed his absence. He was probably still there.
***
“Are you going to take a shuttle to Obi-Wan’s venator?” Feemor asked quietly. It was their first trip back to the 332nd venator, their shuttle piled full of supplies, clothes and other resources. A few soldiers came along with them, although huddled in the back with one another. Some of them were a little too scared to be hanging around Jedi at this point. It wouldn’t be long before everyone was packed onto the ships of Obi-Wan’s forces, ready to flee away from their brainwashed friends and the Sith wanting them dead for no other reason than existing.
“I want to,” Ahsoka replied after a hesitation. She didn’t look at him. She was piloting, Feemor had gotten the impression she wouldn’t have led him pilot, even if he had tried. “I want to see him. I want him to tell me everything is going to be okay. I have so many questions. I want him to have the answers,” she paused and glanced down. “I know he won’t.”
Feemor didn’t reply, just kept his eyes on her, soft and understanding. What did one say to that?
Ahsoka just looked up into the stars once again, determined driven into her expression. “But I should stay with the 332nd. They have been burned enough by the jedi.”
He wasn’t sure what that meant exactly, as it seemed that the 332nd, although betrayed by Skywalker by brainwashing their brothers, had been, at the very least, kept away from that horrible end. Skywalker was only one jedi. What other jedi could they have been burned by?
“Will you?” her voice was quiet and a bit sudden after the stretched silence.
“Maybe,” Feemor shrugged. “Even if I don’t the first time, it isn’t a long trip to Kamino. I need to talk to him, at some point, but I don’t think there will be a good time any moment soon,” he admitted.
The young togruta glanced at him. “You haven’t taken the moment in, what? Thirty years? You never know when you will lose the chance forever. Do it quickly, Master. Before it is too late and one of you is gone.”
***
Rex jogged up to them and silently helped pack up their shuttle. He hadn’t said a word until Feemor had tried to strike up a conversation on the ride over to the 332ndship but Rex kept his answers to a bare minimum, mostly one-word answers. His hands were nearly shaking.
“I saw General Kenobi,” Rex barely muttered out while in the cockpit with Ahsoka and Feemor. The latter figured he was probably talking with her. “He seemed mostly uninjured. It was a little hard to tell because his robes were so dirty. He was wearing his old armor.”
It was the most Feemor had heard Rex speak at that point.
“Is that so. What did you talk about?” Ahsoka’s voice was almost disconnected, like she was talking through a machine. She didn’t sound interested even though Feemor was fairly certain she was.
She didn’t meet his eyes but that didn’t stop the captain from staring at her. He chose his words carefully. “Feelings, mostly.”
“Did you talk about… you know…”
Rex paused and looked away. “Some. You should probably talk about it with him yourself. I think it would do both of you some good.”
Feemor suspected they could make one more trip after this before the evacuation was complete. The end of the conversation was clear.
***
They had done several trips back and forth but this last one, was alone with only supplies in their cargo bay. They had brought up a few clones but not many, most had wanted to stay with the rest of the 501st, many of which still recovering from short surgeries.
He didn’t know how the conversation came up, but he knew why. Ahsoka cared a lot about the clones, especially those under her command. It hurt her, he imagined, watching the ones she worked personally with be brainwashed by her former master. Perhaps it was that reason that she latched onto them instead of the betrayal of her old master. Feemor had his only issues with his teacher, but they paled in comparison to hers. His master just threw him away and got himself killed by a Sith. Hers became one.
She talked, rather ranted, about the unfairness of what was happening with her friends. With Commander Appo and all of the other 501st members that she cared so much about. She talked about the blindness and cowardice of the jedi, just leaving and abandoning them to the fate of a droid, to be used by the Empire for whatever means.
Feemor tried to gently remind her that the jedi were trying to save the helpless and their children. That the jedi do not currently have the numbers or the resources or a plan to rescue them all at this time.
“The jedi will come back for them,” he promised at the end, quiet and gentle. He knew it to be true, the Jedi would come back for the clones, for anyone who needed them. It was a part of their identity, to help those who couldn’t help themselves. But it was even more poignant for the clones, he knew. The Jedi would itch to help them, unwilling to leave their friends to such a fate.
“They didn’t for me.”
Her voice was strained and angry but so quiet, Feemor nearly doesn’t hear her. He understands abandonment. His own master had repudiated for something that not only wasn’t Feemor’s fault, but also something he never had any control over. It never had anything to do with him specifically, it was Xanatos who had ruined it all. And Qui-Gon’s love for Xanatos had just torn the older master apart even more.
He did not remind her that the Jedi did ask her to return.
She was just upset and mixing her feelings, much like any teenager who had been wronged, would.
“They’re just trying to survive, Ahsoka,” Feemor replied, instead. “We cannot help the clones if we are all dead.”
Ahsoka had stopped talking and stared out at the venators they passed, peacefully and ignorantly sweeping the planet, orbiting in a protective barrier, waiting for an attack that would probably never come. Her gaze had settled on one, just a little out of the way, further than the others out in the open space before she turned the controls, sharply curving them towards the ship, instead of away from it.
“Ahsoka, what are you doing?” Feemor asked warily.
The teenager didn’t answer. Instead, she turned the ship even tighter and then straightened out towards the unfamiliar venator.
“Ahsoka!” he yelped. “That is not the ship we want!”
She continued to hold her silence and no matter what Feemor says or does, she continues to fly their shuttle right toward the docking area of the larger venator. She even used the Force to push him nearly out of the chair when he tried to stop her.
“You are going to get us killed,” he hissed. “I’m sure plenty, if not all, of the Coruscant Guards have had their chips activated!”
Swallowing hand, she slowed down, now far too close to turn back now, clicking in comm codes and landing on the outskirts of the bay with a heavy thunk. The Jedi master stared at her, eyes wide.
“We need to get out of here,” he tried again but the togruta female just stood, stone faced and determined. “The rest of the Jedi are going to be leaving soon and we need to be with the 332nd so we can keep up with them.”
“We are going to take this ship,” Ahsoka announced, her tone giving no room for debate. She stood up and grabbed her sabers, marching away. Feemor sighed, running his hands along his face. This was going to be something else.
The clones, so engrossed in their chip activation, had not even noticed the unscheduled landing of an unfamiliar shuttle.
It didn’t stop Feemor from hesitating when they snuck off the ship. As they snuck down the ramp, out of sight, he glanced around. A partially crashed into the wall was a Jedi Delta-7 Interceptor, complete with a dead jedi inside, the bubble that usually encased them in the cockpit broken apart in shards. Neither of them recognized her but she was easily identified as a jedi, even from a distance. She had been shot several times; her chest riddled with blaster shots. Her gorget armor piece had helped her survive, at least until she had got to her ship, but she hadn’t gotten any farther. The engine had been shot out. Feemor hoped she died on impact; he didn’t know if her killers would have had granted her a quick death from bleeding out.
Ahsoka snarled. Feemor looked and felt sick.
A couple of the nonclone natborn officers were laughing on the balcony. The hum and although dulling light were easily distinguishable and identifiable as a lightsaber, whirling and flying through the air. They had taken her lightsaber. They had taken it and were playing with it like it was some kind of toy.
“It’s not even that they don’t care,” Ahsoka choked out, nearly in tears. “They are happy,they are glad, we are being killed off.”
Feemor noticed her use of the term we. It continued.
“We are being killed and they are celebrating…they love that we are dying, leaving our bodies to rot without care, where we are cut down. Distracting us, our ways, playing with part of our souls like children while they murder our children.”
She just cried silently.
“Come on, Ahsoka. Let’s find a place to hide and make a plan.”
***
The two of them snuck through the halls, barely keeping out of sight of the clones. With nothing in their minds, it was easy to keep their attention away. They didn’t want to see anyone – they didn’t see anyone so using a brief signal in the Force to look away was easy to the both of them.
They hid in a few closets, taking down several key troopers throughout some of the ship during their way to the bridge, stripping them of weapons and communications and giving them heavy sleep suggestions. They would be out for hours at the very least. They had talked about a plan, to take the bridge and use the natborn officers to take over the ship. Lock them all in the bridge, including Feemor and Ahsoka, which would keep the clones out but still safe. The plan hadn’t gotten much further than that.
Nearing the bridge, Feemor had pulled Ahsoka into a supply closet as several officers had passed by. To their infinite luck, the officers had stopped nearby to speak to one another, forcing the two jedi to stay in the closet until they were done with their conversation and passed out of sight.
“Master Obi-Wan will like you,” Ahsoka declared, confidently. Her voice was hushed and subdued, but it did nothing to take away from the sentiment.
“You think so?” A welcome topic for Feemor, to be sure.
“I dragged you into something random and unexpected and dangerous. You tried to talk me out of it but then, eventually, just went with it and helped me,” Ahsoka explained. “Just trust me on this one.”
***
“I kind of prefer them this way,” one of the officers noted, watching as lines of clone troopers marched, perfect and silent, down the hall. “They don’t talk, pretending to be men. They just do what they are told.”
“Without complaint,” another snickered, giving one of the clones a shove. The man sprawled to the ground, helmet smashing into the floor. He just got up and kept walking again. No one had even flinched.
Both of the officers laughed.
Ahsoka nearly burst out from their hiding place around the corner, but Feemor held her back. They were close but they couldn’t give away their position yet. It would surely get them killed.
He pulled her away, towards the bridge. They were so close.
As they got nearer, Feemor and Ahsoka dipped into an empty room to prepare. “Three guards, all clones,” Feemor reported, taking a glance in the direction. He pulled back as Ahsoka’s lightsaber snapped in her hands, unignited.
“I’m faster,” Ahsoka noted. It was true of course, if only because she was so much younger than him, but he was rather amused at her assumption of his lack of speed. He wasn’t lacking, as he had noted to himself, the only thing she had on him in terms of that was youth. “You handle the guards with sleep suggestions, and I’ll start clearing a path in the bridge.”
Feemor actually found it a tad entertaining and a bit insulting as well that she had to clarify the sleep suggestion part, as if she thought he was going to purposefully murder a couple of brainwashed clones. “We need some of them alive, Ahsoka,” he shot back.
She turned to stare at him momentarily. “Yeah. Yeah. I know.”
Taking the bridge wasn’t difficult. They didn’t see it coming and were completely unprepared for an assault by two jedi. Ahsoka had taken out the communications officer first – all of the bridge had been quickly replaced with natborns, unsurprisingly – and had nearly taken off his limbs. In the end, it hadn’t mattered. He was dead.
A few of the officers did end up dead, mostly due to Feemor and Ahsoka reflecting blaster bolts back at them. The rest had surrendered fairly quickly. Upon ordering communications throughout the ship to be blocked, Ahsoka worked on the technology part of the controls of the ship, while Feemor cuffed and herded their hostages away from said controls.
“Alright,” Feemor smiled, something wicked and cold. “This is how things are going to go. We are the leaders on the ship now. You will stay here for the duration of your stay. You will not communicate with anyone – not that you could anyways – and if you somehow do, upon someone figuring out what has happened because of it, bad things will happen. You will not let any of the clones on the bridge or tell them that we are here. Do you understand the rules?”
Everyone was rather hesitant, shooting him horrible looks but they nodded.
“Fantastic. Then, we can move along,” he turned and walked towards Ahsoka, keeping a blatant eye on their prisoners.
“Ah, Ahsoka?” he questioned. “This was great and all but now we have at least hundreds of brainwashed clones aboard. What are we going to be doing with them?”
Ahsoka just shrugged. “For now, nothing.”
Ahsoka walked towards the holotable in the middle of the bridge, Feemor trailing behind her uncertainly. She clicked in a comm code and Feemor shifted uncomfortably on the other side of the table. He couldn’t believe they had taken the ship. Keeping it, that was going to be another story. He had no idea what she had in mind; what she was going to do with this entire ship full of brainwashed clones. It wasn’t like the two of them could just take them down or something.
Jesse and Echo, if Feemor remembered correctly, popped up on the table in the blue holoform. “Commander!” Echo greeted, easily. “We were expecting you back hours ago! Is everything okay?”
“Just fine, Echo,” Ahsoka nodded, seriously. “Any word on General Kenobi’s ships and the other Jedi around?”
“Leaving quite soon sir,” Jesse responded this time. “The last couple of ships have left the planet. They will be leaving for Kamino promptly. Rex said he is going to stay with the… with the rest of the 501st, Appo isn’t doing so well.”
“We actually suggested it,” Echo butted in. The look on their faces were pained and mournful. Jesse struggled to speak again but once he started, his voice got stronger.
“What about you, where are you?”
“When are you coming?”
Ahsoka paused and took a deep breath. Feemor watched, carefully. “You go on to Kamino without us, boys,” she started.
The other two began to protest, rather vehemently. “Never sir!”
“You really think we would leave without you?”
Ahsoka nearly let out a laugh but settled for a smirk. “Don’t worry. I will meet you on our next destination. Master Feemor and I…. well, we found ourselves another ride.
