Ahsoka's speeder was constantly in need of repairs, worse than any of Anakin's ships. She endeavored to push Anakin out of her mind but every now and again he'd slip in, she'd complain to herself about her state of finance and her speeder's state of disrepair and she'd say, "Good going Snips."

It bugged her.

The docks on Nar Shadda weren't a safe place to park her wreck but it wasn't like she had anything worth stealing. She'd given up her lightsabers long ago, never gotten them back after they were confiscated by the Order. And even as a Jedi she'd never had too much in terms of possessions. She'd gotten the speeder secondhand with credits Obi Wan lent her but the loan was wearing thin and she hadn't made much of her own. Repaying him, for now, was out of the question.

Getting her speeder fixed was also out of the question, so she locked it and sighed. She needed something to eat.

It was almost painful to have such sensitive hearing in a place like Nar Shadda. And the Force did not dull the soundscape any more than it calmed the city. As Ahsoka walked she heard screams, threats, scams, deals, contracts made and broken. And she could feel lives snuffed out just as quickly. She made herself numb to it all and walked into the first bar she found, ignoring the Pazaak players and posturing mercs in favor of taking a seat at the bar and putting the last of her credits on the table.

She spent them on a bowl of gruel and ate without tasting. Not that it had a taste.

Some of the patrons leered at her and Ahsoka didn't need to open herself to the Force to feel their eyes on her back. She'd covered up with a leather jacket – just as useless in case of crashes – but all the same.

She waved a hand and said, "Mind your own business," and most of them turned back to whatever they'd been doing.

She could have fallen prey to temptation and pushed some of them to forget their credits. Padawan or no, she didn't much like the idea. It would be a last resort. She'd try to find work first.

At first she watched the bulletins fly over the board behind the bar. Small time criminals. Easy bounties. She'd be contending with much rougher mercenaries than the criminals themselves. Maybe a few of the mercs would have bounties on their head. But Ahsoka was one person and she knew without Anakin or Obi Wan to watch her back she needed to be careful.

A hand slipped past her and onto the counter, laying a few credits on the counter. "How much for a night?"

Ahsoka scowled and said, "Watch yourself," to the cowled man. Twi'lek. His orange head tails peeked out from under his cowl and twitched angrily. "You would do well not to patronize me."

She reached out with the Force, her second or maybe third abuse of the night. It was not difficult. It was tiring. She wanted not to rely on it. After all, she was no longer a Jedi.

After a while Ahsoka settled on a mark. Spice dealer, small time, name unimportant. She didn't stress the details except the ones on his face. Human. Blond, thin hair. Jagged teeth and gray skin under the eyes. A slight frame but still larger than hers.

She travelled down to a loading dock well below where she'd parked her speeder and simply approached. She introduced herself – "My name is Ahsoka Tano. I've come to collect your bounty," – she waited for him to yield. When he pulled a blaster on her, she quickly disarmed him and turned the pistol on him. She flipped it to stun but didn't say a word.

He bolted and Ahsoka bolted right after him, and they raced through the streets between piles of trash and empty crates and vagabonds while Ahsoka searched for a way to head him off that didn't involve a flashy reveal. Subtlety.

The man scurried into a warehouse and Ahsoka tailed him closely, in, down a passage he hastily concealed, and into a waiting band of Spice dealers and their muscle.

Ahsoka swore and turned. She should have heard that coming. Should have felt it, should have seen it. Her senses were getting dull.

Before Ahsoka could escape the warehouse a pair of Mandalorians blocked the gates. She could take them. She pulled her pistol and switched it from stun and aimed.

The pistol flew out of her hand. She gaped for half a second before daring a glance upward at a red and black painted visage. A Zabrak, his horns glaring from his skull, skin rough and craggy, glared down from a balcony in the rafters. Ahsoka didn't think on it. She ran at the pair of Mandalorians ready to leap past them.

The Force weighed heavily on her before she could jump and she felt as though it grasped at her. She fought to push it away but it was resilient. She couldn't jump like she wanted to and then it was almost on her neck and—

"Who are you?" the Zabrak called down, his voice wispy. Thin. Almost mild.

Ahsoka pushed back through the Force and knocked back the two Mandalorians. She rushed out from between them and kept running without a second thought.

Until she was far enough away and her stomach growled.

Ahsoka lived in the docks for a while, dodging mercenaries and spice dealers. The tables had quickly turned and a bounty went out for her head, though she'd run into one or two mercs who specified that she was wanted alive, more or less unharmed, and it would be best if she'd please just step into the forcefield. Yeah right.

Her speeder had long been scrapped, not by her, and she wasn't sure how she was going to get out of Nar Shadda without it. She'd have to step up her game, bring down some mercs, maybe even stoop to their level. But she didn't. She had a lot of pride, so much that she'd been warned against it over and over. But she didn't have so much of it that she wouldn't ask for help.

Just not Anakin's help.

Obi Wan at least could keep a secret. She had found a rather discrete warehouse to hole up in and it had become her place of refuge amidst all the mercenaries. She'd learned to make minor repairs to her technologies in the Temple but Anakin had taught her a little more ingenuity than that. It was easy enough to make a basic comlink which she could use to contact her old friend.

The second she had caught a signal she said, "Master Kenobi?"

He answered slowly, tiredly. She couldn't get a visual but his voice was mild and lofty. "Yes? Who is this?"

"This is Ahsoka. I'm sorry to bother you so late."

"It's no trouble at all. Are you alright?"

She wasn't any of his responsibility anymore. She wanted him to care. Wanted to be friends. But he wasn't there when the Order turned its back on her, and though he was there now, it couldn't change things.

"I'm alright, Master Kenobi," she assured him. "I seem to have been stranded on Nar Shadda. My speeder found some technical difficulties and I—"

"Ahsoka I'm so sorry," he said. "I can't help you there right now. We have no jurisdiction in the Outer Rim and—"

"It's fine," Ahsoka cut him off, not wanting to hear another word. "I knew the risks when I came. Do you know anyone who can help me here?"

"If you send me your coordinates I'll see if I can look someone up. In the meantime, stay safe, Ahsoka."

"Always," she said, forcing a smile. She sent her coordinates and closed the link and let herself sleep.

Ahsoka slept in a nest of tattered blankets and clothes piled together to form a makeshift bunk atop a pile of crates. It gave her a good vantage point over the entrance, a little hatch on the floor. There were other entrances once, but they'd been blocked off by solid walls of lead. It deadened the sounds, except from that one side of the warehouse.

There were other stacks of empty crates, some had once contained some sort of grain but now only held dust and rodents. It was a lonely place, but it was safe. No one had followed her back.