Yo thanks to WintersLoneWolf for pointing out the major publishing error on the last chapter, can't believe I didn't notice that for more then a month lmao...anyway here's chapter three, revamped and (hopefully) better!

There's a little bit of PTSD in this one.

Through the damp, filthy alleys and streets of Lower Coruscant, a single speeder carrying a hooded rider raced through the night.

Anakin held his body closer to the rented speeder-bike, trying to increase speed as he navigated the cramped darkness that was the city slums, ignoring the startled beggars and lowlife lining the streets and shadows. He turned sharply, pausing beneath a flickering streetlight to pull up a holo-map and check his position.

Not too long now, Snips. He thought, noting the tavern's coordinates. Only a few klicks left to go, and he'd be able to get her out of there and back home, where Padme was waiting.

Somewhere inside of him, the experience-strengthened logic was whispering hushed worries and concerns of everywhere this plan could go to pieces. While Ahsoka was aware of his and Padme's relationship, and while Padme knew her situation and was more than willing to take Ahsoka in and protect her as needed, it was still dangerous, to himself and his beloved.

All it'd take is one slip, a briefest mention of an extra pair of shoes from a serving droid to a custodian manager, a curious remark of the extra cup on the table by a passing senator, or the careful gaze of Obi-Wan or any of the other Jedi Masters, and everything would come crashing down. He'd be banished from the Council in disgrace, Padme would be rejected by the Senate faster than a Public Works bill, and Ahsoka would immediately be thrown into prison, where it is doubtful that she might ever make it out again.

And yet, the raw desire to bring Ahsoka back, to have her live with him and Padme as something happy and normal, something akin to a family, was something that overruled any of his hesitation. More-or-less an orphan, who was Anakin to turn down the smallest chance for that?

A smile tugged at the corner of his lip as he thought about it, the three of them living in happy domesticity. Something he had never conceived possible, something that was impossible, and yet he had thought of it, created a dream out of it, wondering of how great it would be to have Ahsoka as a playful younger sister-figure, have Obi-wan drop in as the brother, and then he and Padme, or course, living peacefully as husband and wife. Sharing tea on the balcony as the artificial sun set and cast it's soft colors over the city, having pillow fights and late-night talks on the couch, even enjoying a simple meal together. The impossible dream of a lonely slave boy on Tatooine, still impossible now, but just a little less so.

Come on, Skyguy. Act now, dream later, Snips is counting on you. He scolded himself, gearing up the bike once more and racing off in the direction of the bar. A cursory glance at the time on his holopad told him he had spent too long reminiscing and not nearly enough rushing, and he kicked off, going twice as fast as he should be legally, so fast, anyone watching would have seen a muted streak of brown and felt a brush of wind, and then nothing.

Except for one bystander, high above on a roof. Holding a pair of binoculars to their silver-masked face, as they stared down at Anakin, catching a glimpse of the coordinates on his holopad, and then his face before it was covered and he was gone; but it was enough to confirm their thoughts.

Stowing away the binoculars, they turned away from the edge of the building and began the run, leaping roof to roof in the direction of a grimy, dimly lit bar.

The stun gun poked once more at her belly, and Ahsoka fought hard not to flinch at the cool metallic touch.

The Rodian's face was twisted in a cruel smirk, the face made by a predator before pouncing upon prey. The sparse few patrons of the bar, a Twi-lek woman sitting with a Bothan man, a human sitting with a holopad and a gnarled Weequay, the anxious Dug bartender, the panicking serving droid hovering between tables; all were frozen with fear, or maybe anticipation? Beneath their nervous faces, Ahsoka detected malice, and sensed the movements of guns and knives being drawn, of hands tightening on glass bottles to break and use as weapons.

It was the bartender who broke the silence, shoving a fleshy hand between Ahsoka and the Rodian. "Take it outside," He huffed, looking worried but furious, nostrils twitching with anger. "I'm not having any of your bullwash, Greedo. Not today."

Before Greedo could speak, a shot rang out, and he collapsed. A circular patch, scorched there from a stun bolt, smoked on the back of his vest. The Weequay, now standing with a pistol in his hand, turned to aim it at her.

"I been lookin' fer you," He rasped, grinning a toothless smile. "Ze Separatists got a fine bounty on yer head, come along slowly now."

A glass bottle suddenly came down over his head, and he collapsed. The shot he had been aiming at her head hit her mug instead, bursting it into a small shower of clay shards and earning a furious shout from the bartender. Ahsoka, however, did not move, keeping her face as blank and emotionless as possible.

The wielder of the bottle was the Bothan, furred face twitching into what was a grin, though it could just as easily be a grimace. His Twi-lek companion drew a large sniper rifle from beneath the table ( How did she get that in here?! Ahsoka thought indignantly. I can't even take soap containers on public transports! ) and aimed it leisurely at her.

He snorted and huffed, snout twitching as the Twi-lek translated easily, still maintaining a grip on the gun. "You're coming with us, quietly please. No fuss, please?" She ended with a prissy pout, cocking the gun as she did so.

A shaky hand sudden materialized by her throat, holding a knife. The human, sweating but determined, shook his head almost comically. "Not happening. I need that money more than you."

Ahsoka could barely keep track of what in the kriffin' hell was going on, but now all bounty hunters were more occupied with each other then her, which was a good enough distraction for her. Reaching over the counter, she grabbed a large bottle of something and threw it, smashing it at the far side of the room to her right. It was barely enough to make all of them glance over, but it was enough for her to leap onto the counter and to jump at the door.

Even as she was flying through the air, some hand snatched her out of the air by her cloak, and she fell, choking, to the hard cement floor. Someone fell onto her, and in no time at all she was buried beneath a tangle of bodies and flailing fists.

There was so much sound, so much screaming, so much yelling and gunfire, and somewhere, someone was laughing, raucous and rasped, punctuated by sharp hisses and snarls. The acrid smell of alcohol was mixed with smoke and blaster-fire, of charred flesh and burned hair, filling her nostrils and strangling her, overwhelming her. Something sharp, a broken bottle maybe, or was it a clawed hand? Scraped against her leg and drew a raw stinging line, and her resolve and frayed nerves faltered, as a primal fear seized at her heart.

She wasn't in a dirty bar anymore. The hard surface she was lying on wasn't cement, it was hard-packed dirt surrounded by strange leafy ferns. The dim lights above weren't from cheap broken lamps, it was from a clouded sun filtering through moss-covered branches and leaves. She was on that Trandoshan moon again, as the overgrown lizards searched and hunted and laughed, and she couldn't run anymore, her lungs were bursting, they were upon her, she was going to die, help help help help help-

A sound, too panicked to be a roar, too guttural and raw for a scream, was ripped from her lungs, and then the people on top of her were gone, thrown against the walls and counter-top, stunned and confused. The source of the sudden burst came from a wave of Force, the fading fiery remnants of which left her feeling slightly cold and empty and exposed, a frightened beast in a strange land. And then she was outside and running, running, running, climbing the side of the bar, leaping to the next building, then the other, and it wasn't rooftops that she was jumping and rushing through, it was the thick branches of tall trees, the nonexistent sounds of reptilian growling and engine hums chasing behind her.

At long last, she stopped, the sounds long since faded and her legs long since given out. The night's previous events had already torn all the energy from her frame, and now her legs shook and heart hammered as she slid down against a wall, gasping for breath as sobs were torn from her, short and painful. Every inch ached, a draining pain that settled into her bones and rendered her incapable of doing anything but cry.

It wasn't real. She told herself, even as tears began to trail down her face and her ribs rattled with every shaky breath. It was just a flashback. It's okay, you're okay, you're still in Coruscant. Anakin will be here any moment to help you. It'll be okay.

Except...and now she groaned and cursed, wiping at the tears furiously and she struggled to her feet. She was standing on the balcony of some abandoned apartment building, the glow of the bar no longer visible to her. She had to recontact him, or get back there before he arrived, the first of which was damn near impossible and the second of which was nearly as unlikely in her shaken condition.

No point in crying over spilled Bantha milk. She thought, and placed a leg on the railing in preparation to call upon the Force to carry her back to the tavern, before the strains of people talking echoing from below froze her in place. One of them with the familiar throaty accent of a Trandoshan.

"Are you sure she was here?" It hissed, and Ahsoka clenched her fist so tightly she could feel her nails through the glove.

"Sure as all hell, Tooth." Replied another curiously accented voice, and she realized it was the Twi-lek that she and Okar had served earlier that day.

"Well, she can't have gone far. It took way too much research and scoping for her to get away this easily from me." Tooth replies, and the sounds of snuffling reached her, turning her blood cold. Trandoshans were renowned for their sense of smell, and even from this high up, she knew that it would not be long before she was located, even with the stench of alcohol and oil that clung heavily to her clothes.

A bright bolt of blue light suddenly shot up, right in front of her face. She yelped and stumbled backwards, and from below Tooth laughed cruelly. "We got her!" He crowed. "Up there!" And then a grappling hook latched itself to the railing, tied to rope leading below.

Mother-of-kriff-all! She turned, but the entrance that led onto the balcony was nailed down with heavy boards. With a lightsaber or a little time, she'd be fine, but she had neither. The way she had come was by jumping, and the fatigue clinging to her made it doubtful that she'd be as successful as she was when she came.

Caught in between panic and confusion, a single scaled hand grasped the edge of the balcony, and all thoughts were cleared from her head. Instead, the Force, and only the Force, warmth and comfort and reassurance, flowed from her spine and mind and directed her hands towards the appearance of an ugly, scaled head.

"There you are!" Tooth snarled with triumph, but the smirk melted when he realized what position he was in. It was the first thing to be known when fighting a Jedi: Don't stay at the edge.

The Force rushed from her, a tidal wave of invisible energy that crashed into him, and he was thrown across to crash into the building opposite. His limp body slid down to collapse bonelessly onto a fire escape. His Twi-lek accomplice shouted something, before a well aimed kick knocked the hook loose and send him tumbling down as well.

The night was silent for a moment, before pierced by a loud jarring chirp.

Tooth, albeit battered, was not dead, and from his throat a loud high-pitched chirp echoed through the streets. A warning sign, one that meant reinforcements and danger, and a promise of a captured youngling. Ahsoka called upon the Force one more time, to carry her away, back to the tavern where Anakin was surely waiting and frantic, back to Okar who had a bed and a meal for her, anywhere but here.

But gods, she was so tired. An Ahsoka from two years ago or so would be furious with her, angry and irritated with her idling and exhaustion, her sensitivity to the pressure of everything and how it overwhelmed her, crippled her. The Ahsoka right now couldn't find the energy to care.

The bright side of it, if there was one, was that now she was too tired to be nervous and cry. Instead, she began to look for a way out.

Rooftop leaping was not an option. The closest roof belonged to the building where she had just shoved Tooth off to, several dozen meters away, and she was incapable of pulling another leaping spree again. The fire escape of this building was long since rusted and gone, lying in pieces a couple hundred feet below. The only thing not deteriorating or destroyed in this place was the boards covering up the entrances inside the apartment, which Ahsoka could get nothing out of except a stinging shoulder and a string of curses.

As she contemplated, another grappling hook shot out and latched itself to the apartment wall near her, looking far more small and sleek then the one Tooth had used. It was attached to a taut black cable, which led to a building a few klicks to her left. An impossible distance to jump, even if she was fresh and energized, but not impossible to climb. A black silhouette on the other end motioned quickly, making the universal sign for Hurry over here!

There was no room, no time for hesitation. People were running somewhere below, towards her. Something thumped at the boarded up entrance, a loud terrifying drumbeat, and the sounds of yelling orders and victorious cries drifted towards her. The whoosh of a jetpack joined the chorus, and she barely caught a glimpse of a blue lipless smile, cruel red eyes, a wide round brim of a hat before she grabbed onto the end of the cable and pulled. The hook came loose and she was falling, stunning streaks of energy flying around her, a loose rope wrapped haphazardly around her right arm as she neared the ground.

Then she was jolted upwards, accompanied by a crack and something cold forming in her forearm. Reeled in like a scalefish on a line, she found herself lying on a rooftop, staring at the stars in the sky as a silver-masked face bent loomed above hers.

The person offered a hand, which she accepted with her left. Immediately, arcs of purplish electricity rushed up her arm, encircling her like a furious biting web. Every muscle tensed painfully, as the painful, prickling sensation of a thousand stabbing knives rushed throughout her, attacking every nerve. It was too much for her weary, flagging brain to comprehend, and she fled, deep inside her, where there was nothing but darkness and quiet and nothing.

The only thought she could think before blackness overtook her was how lovely the stars looked, reflected in that shining visor.

There was, how one might say, a slight problem.

Anakin, arriving at the bar, found nothing but several police speeders, a group of arrested unhappy bar-goers, an infuriated raving dug, and no Padawan.

"Easy, boys." He said, flashing an identification profile for them, when the came to shoo him away. "I'm just here to look for someone."

The bartender saw him, and grabbed him by both shoulders, and Anakin had to fight a wave of revulsion when he was reminded of Sebulba, his old racing rival from Tatooine.

"Jedi!" He sputtered, fleshy ears twitching wildly. "That girl, she did this! The ex-terrorist! I demand justice, fairness I deserve-"

"Enough. Hold on. Stop." Anakin pushed him off, trying to keep his face from twisting to one of loathing. The 'ex-terrorist', was that really what she was being called? Anger twisted, violent and boiling in his gut, and he tampered down the urge to destroy this person, and everyone else within a thirty foot radius. "You mean Ahsoka?"

"Yes!" He whined, tearing at his whiskers. "She came here, and then everything descended into chaos! Destroyed my bar! Ran away!"

"Ran where?" Fear trickled down his back, cold and evil. "Where did she go?"

"Climbed my bar like a Kowakian monkey lizard, and took off. I think she went that way," And he pointed with a flat circular finger in the vague direction of an abandoned apartment tower. "Saw lights and explosions over there too. I wouldn't be surprised if she wrecked the place, tried to offer help and that's what I get!"

Anakin left him rambling, and walked towards the tower, staring at it. It was far away, more than several kilos away. Knowing Ahsoka, she probably jumped over there, but he had no idea of knowing how far she had gone or if she was even still there.

He sighed frustratedly, running his metal hand through his hair. This was turning into a wild-goose chase instead of a rescue mission, if he found her he'd be sticking a tracking device on her shoes, he thought.

An idea sparked in his mind, and he contemplated it slowly. They hadn't been Master and Padawan for more than half a year, so the mental connection was probably faded and gone. And yet, wasn't it worth a shot?

Closing his eyes, Anakin opened his mind and found the Force, as ready to serve and be molded as ever. Channeling it, he sent out probes, searching for a familiar presence, touching lightly upon minds before leaving and repeating. He spread the radius from one klick to two, two klicks to three, searching, cross-examining, feeling.

And finally, something familiar emerged. With a burst of joy, he recognized it, the same happy-go-lucky apprentice he had spent so long with, but that joy quickly melted away when he realized how changed it was, barely recognizable, like a battlefield after a war. Submerged in darkness, as if perpetually drowning, suffocating in despair.

Snips? He called out, sifting through the blackness with increasing panic. Snips!

A voice, dull, tinny, muted, as if from a broken radio, echoed back. Skyguy?

Tears almost burst forth from behind Anakin's closed eyes, and relief sagged his shoulders. Yeah, it's me. Where are you?

The reply was slow and befuddled, as if the replier was half asleep. I...dunno. Silver and stars. Uhm...think I got duped.

Wait, what? What do you mean? It was unnerving, hearing his normally quick-witted and sharp friend so slow and lethargic. Are you alright?

I think I got kidnapped, Was the reply, and Anakin's relief was gone faster than a credit chip in the hands of a hutt. I'm kinda knocked out right now...no idea where I am. Uh, was on a tall balcony last I checked. Near the balcony. Not anymore.

Just...sit tight. I'll be there quick. A barely-noticeable affirmative response, and she was gone, slipped away into the darkness once more, where he could not follow.

Actually...there was something now, a small feeling of warmth. Anakin took a step forward, and it increased slightly; he stepped back, and it grew cold. A homing beacon.

Leave it to Snips to figure something like this out, even while passed out. He thought with a grin. Sending a quick "I'll be late, love you" message to Padme, he jumped onto the speeder and left, leaving nothing behind but a cloud of dust and an aggravated Dug.

Thanks so much for the support! I've been stuck with writer's block for a long, long while, so it's always appreciated to know people still like reading my stuff. Please enjoy, and as always, leave a review!