Chapter Text
The eyes of the black mask stared her down. The words that it spoke held no resemblance to her old Master. No warmth or kindness, no glimmer of mischief. They were cold. Dispassionate. Rigid and uncaring, even as Ahsoka’s heart found new ways to break as he spoke.
“Anakin Skywalker was weak.” The sound of his mechanical breathing filling the air between them. “I destroyed him.”
Ahsoka’s eyes burned with unshed tears. “Then I will avenge his death.” Her words settled like a lodestone in her gut.
On the floor, behind him, Ezra started to inch away.
Go, she urged him silently, unwilling to reach out with the Force lest she draw his attention. Go!
He watched her as Ezra scrambled backwards. Was she imagining it, or did he tilt his head as he considered her? “Revenge is not the Jedi way.”
Ahsoka clenched her jaw. “I’m no Jedi.”
She ignited her lightsabers and charged. His bloodred lightsaber met her twin white blades and -
Ahsoka fought better than she ever had in her life and it was the only reason she lasted longer than six seconds. With every blow, she could feel his raw strength bearing down on her, promising to crush her if she made a mistake.
But there were no mistakes. Ahsoka was fast and fierce and honed by twenty years of near-constant warfare. Determination coursed through her like liquid fire, white-hot and pure against the twisting, corrupted force of the Temple - determination that of all his uncountable victims, she would be his last.
He bore down on her, delivering blow after crushing blow. She blocked them all, every memory of every fight and spar and training session surfacing in an instant. She could see it in the way he fought - the decisiveness, the power, the straightforwardness she’d always admired - but there was none of the familiar grace. Only brutality.
Perhaps that was her mistake.
Perhaps she was so blinded by seeing her old Master that she lost sight of Darth Vader.
A staggering blow send Ahsoka skidding towards the temple edge; she just managed to keep her footing when the Force slammed into her -
- and she fell.
When she woke, the temple was crumbling, and Ezra’s presence in the Force screamed with panic.
She didn’t remember how she climbed back up the Temple, or how she found her lightsabers after the fall - the memory was blanked out behind a wall of not Ezra too and she screamed as she lunged -
Her lightsabers hit. Vader shouted in pain as he fell; Ahsoka didn’t, but she bit her tongue bloody to stop her cry. Her whole body ached, she must have broken something in that fall.
“Ahsoka!” Ezra cried. “Come on, hurry!”
It didn’t matter. All she had to do was get up and -
“Ahsoka.”
That voice - that voice was -
Ahsoka turned, eyes wide, to see a rend in the mask - and behind it -
“Ahsoka.”
“Anakin,” she gasped out.
Please, a wild part of her cried out, please just come with me we can fix this please please please Anakin come back -
Come back I miss you.
Vader - Anakin - Vader climbed to his feet, staring at her, but Ahsoka’s feet were frozen to the ground. His eye - not blue, but yellow, burning with anger (desperate, pleading, it’s him oh it’s him please let it be really him -) stared at her, the weight of his judgement bearing down on her.
“I won’t leave you,” she blurted, unable to stop herself and meaning every word. “Not this time.”
For a moment, Anakin stared at her.
The silence stretched between them as Anakin stared at her, his eyes wide, as his gaze dropped to the floor before looking back up at her.
For a moment, Ahsoka allowed herself to hope.
Please.
“Then you will die.”
The sound of Vader’s lightsaber igniting broke her heart.
“Ahsoka!” Ezra screamed. Ahsoka threw her hand towards him, Force-pushing him back towards the shuttle.
This creature had been her master, once upon a time.
Their final spar would be her burden. No one else’s.
So when she slammed her lightsabers into the floor of the crumbling Temple and saw the red blade bearing down on her, she reached for the Force and closed her eyes.
I’m sorry, Rex.
The pain was excruciating.
Rex couldn’t believe he was going to die fighting alongside Ewoks. In stormtrooper armor. That was just - just insulting.
But insulting or not, he could feel the blaster wound eating at him from the inside, sapping his strength. They were outgunned and outnumbered - casualties were inevitable. And his luck had finally run out.
Another blaster bolt took him in the knee. Rex fell.
“No!” someone cried - was that Beezer? “C’mon, Gramps, get up!”
Gramps. Force, he was only thirty-six, he didn’t want to die at thirty-six(-slash-seventy-two, a voice whispered in the back of his mind, unbidden.)
Rex didn’t want to die. He didn’t come to Endor just to die -
(- but what did he know of peace? He'd served his purpose.)
Rex struggled to get to his feet, but his body wouldn’t obey him. The blaster wound in his side throbbed and burned and he couldn’t feel his injured leg.
I don't want to die.
I don't want to die.
- Rex.
That was impossible - Ahsoka had died on Malachor V, seven years ago, killed by -
Fresh rage surged through Rex’s body. He heaved himself to his feet, legs shaking as he brought his blaster to bear. Darth Vader might not be here, might not be able to personally answer for killing her, his Commander, his Jedi, his friend - but he could damn well make the rest of the Empire pay for it.
Rex!
Ahsoka’s soundless shout was all the warning Rex had before the blaster bolt tore through his chest. He collapsed, choking on ash and embers - Beezer slung his arm over her shoulders; he tried to help, tried to make his legs move as she dragged him off to the side, but he just -
He couldn’t.
“Easy, Gramps,” Beezer said, her voice taking on a frantic edge as she let him slump back at the base of a tree. “Take it easy, old man, you’re going to be okay!”
I don't want to die.
Rex looked at her. Force, but she was young - dragged into this war when Alderaan was lost, all sharp loss and vicious skill and a heart too big for battle. Her eyes were wide as she pulled off his armor, her fingers fumbling with the clasps, trying to apply a bacta patch that wouldn't work fast enough.
He swatted her hands away weakly. “Go,” he rasped. “Fight. You -” The words snarled in his throat, tangling into a red-hot knot of pain and threatening to choke him.
“I’m not leaving!” Beezer shouted at him, tears running down her face. “You stupid old man, you’re stuck with me!”
You’re stuck with me, Skyguy.
“Win this,” he demanded, grasping desperately at her arm. “For -” for her, “for me.” I didn't want to die for this -
If there was a reply, Rex never heard it.