Chapter One: Incoming Sandstorm

When: Between 'The Clone Wars' movie and the start of 'The Clone Wars' TV series.

Jabba's son had been returned, Count Dooku's plot foiled, and everything was supposed to tie up in a nice, neat little bow. In her imagination, they would fly into Tatooine's twin sunset and to the stars, off to their next adventure in the galaxy. Her master would begin teaching her about the galaxy's many worlds, amused at her eagerness to learn. She would impress him with her piloting, and he'd let her fiddle with a ship or two. The clones would be there to joke around with, and Master Kenobi would be standing alongside her master, an even-tempered presence among the 501st and the Third Systems Army.

She hadn't realized, however, that Tatooine was at the edge of nowhere, nearly beyond the Outer Rim.

And it was hot. Very, very hot, even in the shade of the abandoned market stall they were underneath. Sandy too.

A wind picked up, and she gritted her teeth against the sand ripping over her skin. How she wished she had a poncho like the locals wore. She worked some saliva into her mouth before speaking. "Master?"

Anakin's jaw tightened at the epithet, and he cursed when the wires of his comlink slipped from his fingers. Beside him, R2-D2 chirped like he was laughing. "What, Snips?"

"Why didn't we stay at Jabba's palace?"

"Let's just say the Hutts and I don't get along." He peeled one of his gloves off and tossed it on the ground, muttering something about receptors and an outpost and damn this dust ball.

Ahsoka angled herself away from the leers of some passing men, rubbing where the sand caught on her forearm. "Force that stings."

"Welcome to Tatooine."

She frowned, watching the chattering of the people about them, the vendors proclaiming their wares, and the constant moans of banthas. "So you grew up here?"

"Unfortunately. Anymore questions about my personal life?"

Ahsoka huffed, folding her arms over her chest. "Master, you could at least tell me why we are here and not en route to the ship? Are we waiting for a transport or something? And why are you fiddling with a communicator instead of using R2?"

Master Skywalker muttered something in the guttural language everyone seemed to be speaking around them. He continued to tinker with the comlink, not answering her.

"Oh sure, don't answer me." Some sand caught in her throat, and she coughed hard. She couldn't quite believe that people would actually choose to live on this dismal planet. It was a dump, filled with the vilest scum the galaxy could offer. Just from her post she could see a prostitute on a corner, a few beggar women hobbling about, and some pick-pockets that could not have been much younger than herself. There were vendors screaming a bit too loudly, sand people hurrying droids along, and bantha herders whipping their giant beasts.

The air about them reeked with grease, sweat, excrement, and ship fuel. Should she concentrate, she could probably pick out a lady's perfume or some dried spices used in cooking. Regardless of the chaos, racial slurs, and machine noise there was a child's laughter and a sidewalk musician playing a flute.

There's always light in the darkness, Ahsoka mused before a smuggler spit at her feet. She stiffened at the words he spat, knowing by his cackle they were not too kind.

Anakin's head snapped up, and he shouted something back at the man. A vein in his forehead throbbed while he stared the smuggler down, daring him to say something. The communicator in hand was dangerously close to being crushed in his grip. Even sitting on the ground covered in sweat and dirt, he exuded power.

The smuggler scoffed and walked away muttering, scratching at the back of his head.

"What did he say?" Ahsoka asked, staring after him. She glanced at her master, whose expression was still tense. "What did you say?"

"Nothing I should repeat in Basic." Anakin settled back against the wall and tore off his other glove. He didn't seem to notice his padawan's audible gasp when his bionic hand was visible. "Could you do me a favor Snips and climb on the stall?"

R2 squealed, rolling back and forth. Sand crunched beneath his treads, and he squealed again, oil squirting out onto the ground.

Ahsoka blinked, assuming it had something to do with the smuggler. She stepped into the road, gritting her teeth when another gust of wind raked sand over her skin. A few people skirted around her once they saw her lightsaber, but more grumbled and spat. Using her finger, she planned out her jumps and grinned before starting to run. The wood of the stall scraped against her palms when she grabbed onto it, and she flipped onto the awning without trouble. It bowed under her weight, and she moved to the framework quickly.

"What am I looking for?" Ahsoka stood shakily, cupping a hand to her eyes and squinting. The harsh suns glinted off the sand and gave everything a white shine. "All I see is sand."

"Surprise." The comlink chimed, and Anakin sighed in relief before speaking again. "Look to the horizon. What do you see?"

Another wind whipped through the area, stronger than before. Ahsoka closed her eyes and covered her mouth with an arm to prevent choking on sand. She counted the seconds until the wind passed, slowly cracking her eyes open and peering into the distance. "I can't see Jabba's palace anymore...all I see is sand. A giant wall of sand! It's coming closer!"

"It's a sandstorm, Ahsoka. It won't be here for awhile. We have-"

The comlink beeped, and the Chosen One flipped it over in his palm to reveal the holocron of Captain Rex. He grinned. "Glad it's you answering and not the Admiral."

The clone captain shook his head and chuckled. "You're a sight for sore eyes, General. There have been some nasty rumors going 'round. No one seems to know what's happening."

Anakin rubbed the back of his neck. "I've been a bit busy. Haven't had time to write a mission report."

"We've been trying to get a signal down to that dustball for the past few hours."

"Haven't got the comlink working until just now. Sand got in it and fried the circuits. Had to rewire it manually."

"What about your R2 unit?"

"Worse. He can barely move."

R2-D2 chirp sounded indignant, and he rammed his shell into his master's legs.

"Aren't you just full of excuses? Could you send a signal up, General? Maybe we can send a shuttle down."

"There's a sandstorm coming in. You can't see past it from space. It's be nearly impossible to land."

Rex took off his helmet and tucked it under his arm. He let out a low whistle. "Must be really bad if you say it's impossible. How long will you be stuck on planet?"

"A few standard days. Five at the most. Stay in orbit around the planet, and do not engage in any sort of combat. I'll send a signal up once the storm passes. Meet me at the Mos Eisley hangar in seven days."

"Roger that, General." Rex set his helmet down and leaned against the holotable. He must have been alone to think it okay to abandon formality and protocol. "How's the kid?"

"I'm right here," Ahsoka exclaimed while she jumped down, neatly avoiding R2 and scaring away a Jawa. She slid next to her master, waving at the clone captain. "Hey Rexie."

"Commander. Glad to see you safe."

Anakin turned the comlink so it focused better on him. "Relay my words to General Kenobi, if you can. Commander Cody will do too."

Captain Rex cracked a smile. "Not the Admiral? He'll be disappointed he-"

Somewhere beyond their view, a door hissed open. Footsteps sounded, deliberate and fast. "Captain Rex! Who are you talking too?! Is that that the General-"

"Another time, Admiral."

Admiral Yularen came into focus, exasperation on his schooled face. "General-"

Anakin cut the transmission and stood, grabbing his gloves. He shoved the communicator into his pocket before beginning to tug on his gloves. Smoke came from somewhere inside R2 when the astromech wheeled after him. "Come on, Snips. Let's go see if someone will give us a ride out to the Tosche Station."

A flash of metal caught in the sunlight, nearly blinding her.

"What's the metal on your hand?" Ahsoka asked, rising to her feet. She did her best not to cower at the look he gave her. "Your..um…on your flesh hand."

"A ring." He began to walk, weaving through the throngs of people expertly. He didn't seem to notice her hurrying to catch up. A peddler came up to them offering ponchos, and he took two after a rapid fire discussion in the same language the smuggler had spoken in.

"Where are we staying?" Ahsoka asked when he had tossed her the poncho. It was made of tough hemp, but it was a welcome barrier between her skin and the sand.

Anakin stared straight ahead, something of a smile crossing his face. "You'll see."

Author's note: Hey folks! What's this, a story on a Wednesday? And it's not Obi-Wan related? Le gasp!

I haven't figured out a schedule, but I'm thinking this one will be updated every two Wednesdays.

I've always wondered what happened between the end of The Clone Wars movie and the beginning of the show. Something had to have happened. It would be their luck to get caught in a sandstorm, wouldn't it?

Ta for now!

ii Digestive Reader ii