With the fall of Mos Verath, the entire planet was beginning to shake free of its chains. Word of the 501st's victory spread like a wildfire. Across the outer territories, slaves were rising—armed with stolen weapons, makeshift armor, and raw, desperate courage.
But chaos breeds danger.
Where the Hutt mercenaries and slavers still had power, retaliation was brutal.
And that's why Anakin wasn't resting.
Inside the fortress-turned-base, Anakin stood over a large tactical map projected in a glowing three-dimensional hologram. Rex stood beside him, organizing troop movements. Sarah and her Spartan squad had already departed east, clearing several small camps with ruthless efficiency.
Anakin pointed at the furthest marker.
"Slave camps here, here, and here. Reports say Hutts loyalists are gathering at these outposts, trying to fortify."
Rex nodded. "Orders, sir?"
Anakin clipped his lightsaber back to his belt.
"Ahsoka and I will hit the western outposts. Sarah handles the southern fronts. You—"
"I'll lock down the fortress, reinforce, and coordinate incoming supplies," Rex finished with a grin.
Anakin smirked. "You're getting good at reading my mind, old man."
Rex laughed. "Been doing it for years, sir."
Anakin turned and called out, "Tano! Gear up! You're with me."
Ahsoka came jogging in from the courtyard, twin sabers at her sides, a determined expression on her face.
"Ready, Master!"
Anakin gave a short nod.
"Let's see if you're ready to survive outside the walls."
Crossing the Dunes
The two rode on repulsor bikes across the endless dunes, the engines leaving long trails of dust behind them.
The first slaver camp loomed ahead—rusted durasteel fences surrounding an open-air prison pit, guards patrolling with heavy blasters and shock whips.
Anakin pulled his bike to a stop at the crest of a dune, surveying the encampment.
"Ahsoka," he said, dismounting smoothly, "this isn't a sparring ring. You adapt—or you die. Fast."
Ahsoka swallowed hard, nodding. "I understand."
"No you don't," Anakin said, harsh but not cruel. "Not yet."
He crouched beside her, pointing.
"First lesson: Observe everything. Patterns. Gaps. Weaknesses."
Ahsoka narrowed her eyes, focusing. She could just make out a section of fence half-buried in sand. A weak point.
"There," she said quickly.
Anakin smiled slightly.
"Good."
He rose, igniting his saber with a sharp snap-hiss.
"Now follow me."
Anakin leapt over the wall in a Force-propelled arc, landing among the stunned guards like a thunderbolt. His blade was a flashing blur, disarming, disabling, overwhelming.
Ahsoka followed—nimbler, lighter, slicing through weapon stocks, slashing at bindings, freeing slaves.
It was going smoothly—too smoothly.
From behind one of the rusty towers, a heavy turret swung into position.
The gunner lined up on Ahsoka—too fast for her to notice—and fired.
Anakin's senses screamed.
He shoved Ahsoka sideways with the Force, barely pushing her clear as the turret round exploded against the sand.
Ahsoka hit the ground hard, rolling up to a kneel, breathing fast.
Anakin was already moving—his saber flashing once, twice—and the gunner collapsed, his weapon slagged and burning.
He stormed back toward her, fierce and furious.
"You didn't sense it! You got tunnel vision!" he barked.
Ahsoka bristled. "I was trying—"
"Trying gets you killed!"
He knelt in front of her, gripping her shoulder tightly.
"The galaxy doesn't care about trying. Out here—you're either faster or you're dead!"
Ahsoka blinked back tears of frustration but nodded.
Anakin's tone softened slightly.
"But you learned and your alive that's what matters."
He offered a hand. She grabbed it, hauling herself up.
"Let's finish this," Ahsoka said, grimly determined.
The next camp was even worse—armed speeders, sniper nests, trained Hutt bounty hunters.
Anakin watched Ahsoka carefully.
This time, she didn't charge in blindly.
She observed.
She adapted.
Using the natural rises of the dunes for cover, Ahsoka stalked the perimeter like a hunter, sensing the rhythms of the guards. She used subtle Force nudges to misdirect patrols. She slid through their blind spots.
When the attack came, she was a blur.
Her twin green sabers danced like fireflies through the darkness, disarming three guards before they could blink. When a sniper fired at her from a high tower, she didn't panic—she caught the bolt with her saber in mid-spin, redirecting it into the turret's base.
Anakin, watching from the dunes, smiled proudly.
She wasn't perfect yet.
But she was becoming something As they regrouped, a final mercenary squad tried to rush them.
Anakin stepped forward alone.
He didn't hesitate. Didn't flinch.
With the Force swirling around him like a living storm, he charged directly into their ranks.
He fought with no wasted movement—no hesitation. Blades clashed. Blasters barked.
He flowed through them like a predator among sheep.
Every slash was precise.
Every Force push was lethal.
Within moments, the mercenaries were unconscious or groaning in the sand.
Ahsoka stared at him—truly seeing, for the first time, the warrior beneath the Jedi robe.
"Master…" she whispered, awe in her voice.
Anakin turned back toward her, breathing evenly, his amethyst saber still humming low in the dusk.
"This is what we do," he said.
"Not because we love war.
Not because we want glory."
He deactivated his blade.
"But because no one else will stand for them."
Ahsoka stepped forward, her expression hardening into something sharper, fiercer.
"I understand."
He smiled.
"Good."
They mounted their bikes again.
Ahead, another camp burned on the horizon.
Another chain waiting to be shattered.