Chapter Text
It was quiet as she walked into the chamber. The soft clacking of plastoid was nearly thunderous amidst the oppressive silence.
She could feel the eyes of those who stood on the observation deck watching her, following her steps as she was marched onto the platform. A line of red-clad soldiers stood there, waiting. Across from them was a solitary wall, where shackles hung in the center.
She supposed she should feel something as she was led to it, as her small hands were released from the binders, only to be secured above her. Anger. Shame. Fear.
All she could seem to muster was tired resignation.
She stared blankly ahead as one of the troopers asked her a question. Her weary gaze shifted to him as he said something again, gesturing to a scrap of black cloth in his hand. A blindfold, she realized. She shook her head minutely as she returned to staring blankly ahead of her. She had faced death many times. Too many times. She stared it in the face, ready to accept whatever the Force had in store for her. This time would be no different.
Except that it was.
All those other times, all the other encounters where she was sure she would breathe her last, she was fighting for something. She could take solace in the fact that she was going to die protecting the Republic, its ideals, all that it stood for. A bulwark of strength, democracy, and freedom. She was protecting her fellow soldiers, her friends, her Master, her brothers. Her family.
Now, though? Now there was nothing. Her death would save no one, would help no one. It would just be another footnote in the manifesto of someone who simply wanted to hurt others. To hurt the Jedi. It would be another piece of collateral damage in a never ending conflict. It was meaningless.
Well. Maybe not meaningless. It meant something to her. It meant that the institution that she fought for, bled for, didn’t value her as anything other than a tool. It meant that the people who raised her, who she thought cared about her, would turn her out on the whim of a politician with almost no questions asked. It meant that everything she believed in, everything she did, everything she once fought for, was a lie.
And so, she was tired. Maybe this was for the best. She could finally rest. Rest from fighting. Rest from the grief of losing friends on a bloody battlefield every day. Rest from feeling a little bit of her soul chip away with each conflict.
She didn’t really believe that. But pretending she did stopped the devastation from ripping through her anew as the firing squad readied themselves.
She didn’t look up to where the observers stood as the booming voice of the Chancellor echoed through the room, listing her crimes
and the ensuing punishment. Even with the Force-suppressing collar, she could practically feel Tarkin’s smugness, his eyes likely boring down on her with imperiousness. She wouldn’t look up at him. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Neither would she look at the Council members standing to his right. Their cool indifference weighed more heavily on her than any malice or hatred ever could.
She jolted out of her reverie as Fox shouted for his men to take aim. Fear and regret came crashing down on her in an instant. She frantically thought of her men, her vode. Who would watch their backs now? Who would cover them in a hail of blaster fire? Would they mourn her? Or would they scorn her memory, believing her to be a murderer? A traitor? Aruetii? Would they hate her? It was childish, but she didn’t care. They were her family. The thought that they might believe the worst about her burned worse than a lightsaber to the gut. She could feel tears burning in her eyes but she would not let them fall. Her vode taught her to be stronger than that. She would honor them even now, at the end.
The selfish part of her wished Anakin was there, that she wasn’t facing oblivion alone. She wished that she could cling to him for strength, for the comfort that she could always rely on, as she faced one last battle. The selfless part of her was glad that he wasn’t here to witness this. (He was still out trying to prove her innocence, trying to save her. He had always had trouble letting go.) While she regretted that his tireless pursuit was all for naught, she was grateful for his unwavering faith. For his love. She prayed to the Force that he would know how much she loved him too. That he would take comfort in that. That he wouldn’t tear himself apart with guilt and self-loathing, as he was wont to do when he believed that he failed the people he cared for.
The tension in the chamber rose to a deafening crescendo.
A woman’s voice, unfamiliar yet somehow safe and warm, filled her montrals.
You must face death, Ahsoka. Do not fear it.
She took a steadying breath and lifted a defiant chin. She stared down the barrels of seven blasters. Into blank, red-accented faceplates. She made sure her eyes met every single visor, knowing she was meeting their eyes beneath. It was time, her piercing gaze stopping at Fox’s visor last, boring into the familiar brown eyes that lay beneath.
Several things happened at once.
A clipped shout, Fire!
A fierce bellow, STOP!
The discharge of blasters.
A swell of power filling the atmosphere, palpable and raw.
The feeling of darkness closing in on her.
A scalding heat tearing into her chest.
Ahsoka sagged in her chains and her vision dimmed, her blood pounding in her montrals. Her breath came in ragged gasps, every movement in her sternum filled her with white-hot agony.
She could hear muffled voices shouting, but didn’t register anything they were saying. One voice came closer than the rest as her chains were broken and her Force-suppressing collar was shattered. She fell forward into strong arms with a weak cry.
She was lowered to the floor, and she finally gained enough awareness to look up. Above her, Anakin’s ocean-blue eyes stared into hers, wide and desperate and panicked. Rex’s face hovered opposite him, his expression much the same.
She tried to form words around her choked gasps, but none would come.
Ahsoka?!
He cried, his voice panicked, Ahsoka, stay with me! You’re going to be alright! Obi-wan, we need a medic now!
She heard shuffling in the background, but paid it no mind, her eyes solely focused on her Master.
She had so much to tell him, to tell both of them, and no breath, no voice to do so. Force, her chest hurt. Every jagged inhale pulled at the burn, causing a fresh wave of agony to wrack through her entire being. She just wanted it to stop.
But she had to tell them. She couldn’t leave them like this.
Hey, no, don’t try to talk, save your strength, little one,
Anakin told her as she tried once more to form words around her pathetic attempts to breathe, We’re going to get you help, you hear me? You’re going to be fine!
She shook her head. She’d seen enough of war to know that there was no surviving a shot like this. It was a miracle she had even survived this long. Living wasn’t an option anymore, and she’d be damned if she didn’t get a chance to say her piece one last time. Besides, she had to tell Rex, had to tell her to vode. She couldn’t leave them thinking she would ever hurt one of them, especially after the hell they’d faced at Umbara. To her, that was worse than death.
She gathered her waning strength and pushed images to her master across their bond. She showed him flashes of her brothers, of Fives and Jessie and Kix and the rest of Torrent Company, along with feelings of desperation and apology and love. She flicked her gaze to Rex and back, imploring him to understand.
When his eyes widened and filled with tears, she knew he did.
She wants- she needs you and the men to know that she didn’t do it,
Anakin told his Captain, she wants you to tell them that she’s sorry, that she lo-
he took in a shuddering breath, that she loves you all.
Rex’s face was stricken, his amber eyes wide and full of regret and anguish as he met her gaze.
Of course, we believe you!
he exclaimed as he grabbed her hand in his, his grip strong and steady and warm, his voice warbling with emotion, You have nothing to be sorry for, little’un. We failed you. We’re the ones who’re sorry. Ni ceta, vod’ika, ni ceta…
Tears of relief trickled down her face. They hadn’t given up on her. Her vode believed in her.
She managed a small smile and squeezed his hands in return as she shifted her gaze to Anakin.
So much she wished she could say, wished she could do. She wished she could smooth the lines from his furrowed brow, wished she could wipe the tears from his cheeks, wished he didn’t have to go on without her.
But she wasn’t a child anymore, hadn’t been since the moment she stepped onto her first battlefield, and she didn’t believe in wishes. So, she gave him what comfort she could. She grasped their bond with two metaphorical hands and flooded it with every ounce of love, every scrap of adoration and gratitude she had ever felt for her mentor, her friend, her brother. She poured in every smile, every joke, every nickname, every bit of tenderness and closeness they ever had. She sent him her impression of him, the supernova of Light, the ultimate beacon of goodness and kindness and compassion and honor and selflessness in her life. I love you, Skyguy, she thought at him as loudly as she could, never forget.
She could only faintly feel his presence, his shock, his regret, his love and affection, at the other end; her strength was fading exponentially with every passing second. He was saying something, maybe shouting? But what, she couldn't hear. Her hearing was becoming more and more muffled, as though she was being placed underwater, and her vision darkened on her brothers’ faces.
As she attempted to surrender herself to the Force, she balked at the oozing blackness she found instead. She thought she would feel peaceful when she gave herself over to death, but as the darkness wrapped around her, it didn’t feel comforting, it was smothering. All at once she felt like she was drowning, shadows covering her, pulling her further and further into an abyss. She would have screamed, cried out for Anakin, if they weren’t filling her mouth, clamping down on her to silence her. She thrashed, reached out in desperation, attempting to claw her way back to the surface, back to the light, but she was too weak. The last of her fight left her and she was sucked down away from the light and into the sickening void.