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Anakin Skywalker is perfectly aware that there’s something morbidly wrong in his brain chemistry. The roar of the battlefield and the adrenaline of teetering on the brink of death should not make him feel so alive. Obi-Wan would most certainly not approve, yet here he stands in the middle of a blazing landscape, blaster bolts showering down on him and his men and finally he can breathe.
This planet is covered in grassy fields, ones that remind him of Naboo, though such a gorgeous planet would never be overrun by the fires that burn here. Naboo wouldn’t fall prey to the clanking of battle droids and booming of explosions. Anakin would never let that happen.
Dooku is here somewhere, Ahsoka has been sent ahead with Rex and a few of the boys to scout him out while Anakin plants himself firmly in the middle of the chaos. The smell of plasma fills his nose, he can feel the proximity burns singe his cheeks as he allows a shot or two to come just a little too close. It feels good.
The mission objective is simple: capture Dooku. Master Fisto is somewhere else on this planet, currently trying to free the city and its citizens but Anakin has kept the same mission objective he’s sworn himself to ever since that day on Geonosis. Find Dooku. Capture Dooku. Hopefully, be allowed to assist in the execution of Dooku.
At the very least, he should be allowed to spectate.
Dogma is running up to Anakin now, a strange panic present in the Force that he is sure such a seasoned trooper should be past by now. It’s not like him, which means something must be wrong. As the man nears Anakin, the two shelter behind a nearby rock formation, one left behind by the ancient tribes of this planet, before it was colonised and built up.
‘What is it, Dogma?’ Anakin shouts over the cacophony of battle around them.
‘It’s the Commander, Sir! Captain Rex says she’s been captured by Count Dooku, they’re in the Separatist fortress and being forced to retreat. Sounds like Dooku knew we were coming for him,’ Dogma explains and Anakin feels a river of ice cold water cascade down his spine. His fingers clench around his lightsaber hilt, the black grips he manufactured on them digging into his gloved palm.
‘Then we have to go find her, what are you waiting for!’ Anakin springs up immediately, narrowly dodging a red flash that streaks past his temple. A hand shoots out and grabs his wrist and Anakin can’t help but frown at Dogma’s complete disregard for protocol. Not that he has any particular regard for it himself, merely that Dogma sticks to his rules like wood to a tree.
‘Sir, Rex and his men are two klicks out, Dooku is long gone, we don’t know where he’s taken her,’ Dogma explains hurriedly. ‘We should regroup with Rex before we make any decisions,’
A harsh twist forms in Anakin’s gut and he’s about to snap at Dogma, but he can hear Padmé’s words in his head, reminding him that just because he doesn’t like an answer doesn’t mean it’s not right. Anakin doesn’t like this answer.
Grumbling under his breath, Anakin leaps over the rock and starts deflecting blaster bolts with renewed fervour, aiming them back at the droids from which they came and watching them go down one by one. The minutes slog by like hours and Anakin keeps resisting the urge to check his chrono, wondering where the hell Rex is. Every second he wastes here is a second Ahsoka is in danger, alone with a man Anakin desperately wants to see at his feet.
Like some cruelly constructed holomovie, just as Rex and his men come into view, running towards them from the East, shooting at the droids to the North, all gunfire ceases from the Separatists. Everyone skids to a halt, Rex now by Anakin’s side where he belongs, and as the two signal to the men to cease their fire as well, Anakin’s comm link starts to beep. It’s all a part of Dooku’s plan. The bastard is always one step ahead.
‘Is everyone accounted for, Rex?’ Anakin asks before he even thinks about answering and he receives a nod from his Captain.
He answers the call on his wrist.
An image of Dooku springs up from the device, a face Anakin would only be too pleased to never see again unless it were mounted on a spike in his room so it can be the last thing he sees before he goes to bed and the first thing he sees when he wakes up. He thinks that, perhaps, that might be enough to soothe the burning fire in his stomach.
‘Dooku,’ he sneers.
‘Skywalker,’ Dooku counters, though his tone is far more amicable than anything Anakin thinks he could mimic. ‘Your Padawan is endlessly chatty. Is that all you have managed to teach her?’
The man steps aside with a snide smirk, allowing the camera to project the image of Ahsoka knelt behind him, hands bound in cuffs that link up to a collar around her neck. A gag has been tied around her mouth, though nothing can stop the girl from offering up her most withering glare. A bubble of pride forms in Anakin’s chest.
‘Oh, I never needed to teach her that. I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough all the things I’ve taught her since we last met,’ Anakin snarls, but even as the words leave his mouth he feels his heart sinking in his chest, down to his stomach and falling through the ground beneath him.
The collar around Ahsoka’s neck is no ordinary collar, there’s a light flashing at the front and a rectangular package strapped to the back of it. Explosives. Not good. Rex must notice the same because there’s a sharp intake of breath next to him and he sees the Captain’s finger tense around the trigger of his pistol.
Dooku steps back into the frame, now holding a trigger in his right hand, thumb hovering over the button, and a sly look on his face.
‘Do you truly think me so unprepared for an assault as primitive as your own? Master Fisto can take the city if he wants, but there won’t be much of a city left after long. Do you understand my meaning?’ Dooku speaks calmly, a master laying down a game for those considered beneath him to play. ‘Ahsoka is a long way from my fortress by now, but as I’m sure your technicians are just finding, this connection cannot be traced—’
Anakin looks to his right where one of his men indeed confirms that they cannot get a read on Ahsoka’s location. The blood in Anakin’s veins is dangerously close to boiling over, he can feel it, just as he can feel Rex shaking with barely concealed anger next to him.
‘I’m sure you are aware of the concept of a Dead Man’s Trigger, General Skywalker?’ Dooku is grinning now, a slick and disturbing image, as he sweeps over to Ahsoka, kneeling down next to her and wrenching the girl’s hand towards him.
Ahsoka does her best to fight it, swinging her legs around to kick at Dooku’s bent knees, yelling through the gag in her mouth and snarling at him. At one point, she manages to free her wrist from the man’s grasp entirely, but he merely nods to someone who cannot be seen and then her whole body is seizing, streaks of lightning coursing through her for only a second. Ahsoka goes limp and Dooku picks up her hand again, slipping the trigger into her palm and closing her thumb over it.
‘I do hope you have taught her resilience, Skywalker, how long do you think she can hold onto the trigger? An hour? Perhaps two? I shall leave the connection open, you will be able to see and hear her, but I’m afraid, Ahsoka,’ Dooku now turns to the young girl, grabbing her jaw harshly in his grip, ‘you shall be rather on your own,’
Anakin should say something. Should tell her he’ll find her, that she just needs to hold on and he’ll be there before she knows it. All he can do is stare. Dooku turns back to him, he’s never wanted a man dead with such intensity before.
‘Happy hunting, my friend,’
Dooku leaves the frame chuckling to himself, and then he hears a door close and Ahsoka is, indeed, left entirely on her own. She remembers where the camera is, though, because she looks up at it, eyes set firmly and Anakin knows what she’s telling him. She’s got this.
Because of course she does, Ahsoka is the strongest person he knows and if anyone can handle this, Ahsoka can. Nothing bad can happen to Ahsoka, it’s simply not possible, not something the universe could ever inflict upon her. There is no reality in which Anakin loses Ahsoka.
‘Rex, Fives, Jesse, Dogma, Tup, and Kix you’re coming with me. The rest of you, clear up, tend to the wounded, then return to camp and await further orders. Am I understood?’ Anakin calls to the group of men now gathered around. In the time he’s spent staring down Dooku, Anakin hadn’t noticed that the Separatist droids have entirely retreated, leaving them standing in an open field, fires still burning freely around them, grass singed and brown. It crunches underneath Anakin’s boots as he leads his group away from the chorus of affirmatives behind him.
Anakin has no idea where to start, Ahsoka is still being projected from his wrist comm, sitting cross-legged with her eyes shut, thumb pressed calmly down on the trigger in her hand. Anakin reaches out to her in the Force, trying to send gentle reassurances that he’s going to find her. He tries not to let her see the fear beginning to pool in the pit of his stomach.
He has no idea where to begin.
‘Tup, take my commlink, it’s your job to keep an eye on Ahsoka, tell me everything that happens, you do not take your eyes off of her, understood?’ Anakin orders, detaching the device and handing it over to the shiny.
‘Yes, sir!’ he responds immediately, taking the device from his leader.
‘Dogma, you stay with Tup, watch his back,’ Anakin continues and then addresses the group at large. ‘We start at the fortress, see if we can figure out where he may have taken her,’
‘We saw a ship as we were leaving, it was heading West, it looked like Dooku’s model, he’s probably taken her out that way,’ Fives supplies and, as vague and potentially incorrect as it may be, it’s something. It’s all they have.
And so they set off towards the fortress, five klicks away (five klicks too far). Anakin leads the way, lightsaber gripped in his hand merely for the comforting weight of it, Rex is half a step behind him, one pistol gripped in his right hand, leaving his left free. The others stay close behind. Nobody speaks, nobody has anything to say because there is nothing to say. There is only one goal, only one thing that matters: find Ahsoka. Save Ahsoka.
They’ve only been walking for ten minutes when a loud shout comes from behind, a scream Anakin has become awfully familiar with after fighting a war with her for two years.
Ahsoka.
‘Sir!’ Tup cries as Anakin spins around, pushing past Fives and Jesse to get a better look at the hologram of Ahsoka, convulsing unnaturally as electricity courses through her body once again. She shouts in pain and Anakin’s eyes zero in on the trigger in her hand. When the electricity hits her, the muscles tense and she won’t let go, but it’s only there for a second and then it’s gone. Ahsoka’s scream fades and her muscles relax, leaving Anakin to wait with bated breath to see if she manages to hold on.
Ahsoka slumps to the side slightly, free hand bracing herself against the floor, arm shaking, but her thumb holds down the trigger resolutely. The vice around Anakin’s heart eases ever so slightly and air fills his lungs once more.
‘He’s testing her. We need to move,’ Anakin says tersely. There’s nothing he can say that will help, Ahsoka can’t even hear him. All he can do is find her.
Every few minutes, Ahsoka screams behind him. At first, Anakin whips around every time, eyes trained on the trigger but she never once lets go. Even when the shocks last longer and her screams grow quieter as exhaustion takes over and her voice becomes hoarse. Her thumb does not waver.
Eventually, Anakin stops looking. It won’t do any good, the only good he can do is to keep going. They reach the fortress soon enough and as Ahsoka’s pitiful whimpers echo off of the abandoned walls, Anakin sets his men off to find any clue as to where their missing Padawan is.
***
Ahsoka can do this. She’s got this. Totally got this.
Every nerve buzzes with this strange mix of numbness and agonising pain. Except her thumb. Her thumb is alive, consistent and steady on the smooth button in her palm. Her hand is getting sweaty and she’s having to find a careful balance between squeezing hard enough it doesn’t fall from her grasp, but not so hard it goes shooting to the floor with the slick sweat now coating it.
And every time she finds that perfect balance, another wave of pain washes over her body, sending her straight to the floor and crying out pathetically. Anakin wouldn’t be this weak. Anakin would have found his way out on his own, but Ahsoka can’t move. She’s bound to the spot, scared to move for fear of setting the explosive off.
But Anakin is going to find her. Ahsoka has to believe that as she clutches the device in her hand desperately, begging her muscles not to fail her now, begging not to be let down by her own body. She has trained for this, Anakin has taught her endurance, she’s been through hell before and she can do it again. Ahsoka can do this.
She has to.
When the pain becomes too much for Ahsoka to even heave herself up in between the spurts of torment, she curls over on her side, shivering. Each inch of her body aches in a different way, throbbing painfully in every nerve and she’s not sure how much more she can take.
That isn’t a train of thought Ahsoka is willing to entertain. It isn’t only her life on the line here, it’s the lives of every other citizen in the city, blissfully unaware of their impending doom. Ahsoka won’t let it happen. She just has to hold on a little longer, she promised Anakin she would hold on until he got here. Even if only her head, she’s sure he has to know. He knows her too well by now. Ahsoka Tano does not give up.
Even as she lies there in the foetal position, cowering over the trigger as wet tears spill from her eyes, over her nose and across her lekku, Ahsoka does not give up. Her muscles begin to spasm even without the electricity and she has to clamp both hands around the trigger to hold the button down.
Time passes by in weird pulses, ebbing and flowing like the tide on some strange planet where gravity is weak and there are no rules nature must abide by. There are no rules in war. Only pain and death. If they’re lucky, someone might tell them they won the battle, being partnered with Anakin means they’re often told they won but Ahsoka has never understood the concept of victory.
Even as her brothers cheer around her and Rex grins, sweaty and panting as he pulls off his helmet when the tinnies are on the run, she’s never understood. How can victory exist when so many people are dead?
Her train of thought keeps getting interrupted, though, and she cannot reach an answer to each question that crosses her mind before the pain returns. She doesn’t scream anymore, barely even whimpers. Mostly, Ahsoka just sobs and silently begs for Anakin and Rex to come bursting through the door and make it stop.
Please, just make it stop. Master, please…
Ahsoka doesn’t know where she is. It’s dark, completely pitch black around her, save for the blindingly harsh light beaming down on her face. Pain like this is not something Ahsoka has ever known and she isn’t sure why she feels it now. All she knows is that she cannot let go. There’s something in her hand, she isn’t sure what, but she cannot let go of it.
Don’t let go. Don’t let go. Do. Not. Let. Go.
It’s all she knows.
Her face is wet, in fact everything is wet. Her clothes are soaked with sweat, she must smell awful, but then again she once ended up in the 501st’s changing room by the simulation room and she’s not sure anything has ever smelled worse than that. Not even the smell of her own charring flesh.
Ahsoka can’t hold on for much longer. Everything hurts and her nerves are on fire, there’s ice pouring down her back and she never realised pain like this existed. How can she feel so numb and yet feel every spike and sear of electricity bubbling through her body?
Anakin never prepared her for this. Anakin never told her that this could happen. Anakin never showed her what to do. In every situation Ahsoka’s found herself in, every time she’s sure it’s the end for her, she’s had Anakin’s training and, somewhere in it, he’s taught her what to do. Ahsoka can’t find any answer to help now, no wise words spoken in her Master’s voice can save her now.
This is it.
***
They can all see it. Rex and every single one of his men can see Ahsoka, a soft blue glow extending from the palm of Tup’s hand, crumpled up on the floor. It’s a mere glimpse in the corner of Rex’s eye as he follows Anakin, keeping up the harsh sprint they have all taken up in the desperate hope of reaching the girl in time. She’s fading fast, hand shaking with the effort of holding onto the Dead Man’s Trigger and while Rex knows that Ahsoka is the strongest person he’s ever met, everyone has a limit. And he’s sure that this is her’s.
So Rex doesn’t think about how Ahsoka is convulsing on the floor and Rex doesn’t think about the whimpering cries spilling over her lips. He doesn’t think about the incoherent whispers she is uttering and he doesn’t even consider the pleading look in her eyes whenever she gathers the courage to open them. Even though he can only see her in the corner of his eye, she is all he can see.
But there’s a door up ahead, an end to this winding tunnel they’ve been following underground for longer than any of them can track. Anakin is in front, of course, and he reaches the door first, slamming his hand against the control panel to open it. The panel beeps. It flashes red.
Anakin curses loudly and just as Fives steps forward to offer his services in slicing it, there’s a blue glow lighting the tunnel, it swipes through the air and the smell of burning metal takes over. The broken panel shorts out the circuit and the door slides open.
They’re through in seconds, all of them filing in and shouting for Ahsoka, trying to capture her attention before she can slip away. Anakin, ever level-headed in times like this, heads straight to the control panel, ripping out a wire and then Ahsoka relaxes.
Her muscles go slack, mouth hanging open and her hand falls away from where it was clutched against her chest. Rex is there in a second, skidding to his knees next to her with the horrible noise of plastoid scraping on metal as his hand wraps around hers. His thumb lands firmly on top of Ahsoka’s, clamping it down on the trigger before she can let go.
‘I’ve got you, kid. I’ve got you,’ he tells her, trying to remember his training, forcing himself to breathe as Kix settles down on the other side of her, beginning to assess her battered body. ‘Just breathe, ad’ika, you’re okay,’
But she isn’t okay. Rex doesn’t think he’s seen someone cling to life while looking so not okay. She’s burned all over, skin melted all over her body, sticking to her clothes and the floor beneath her. Her fingers are raw, Rex can feel how his hand over hers is only serving to peel more flesh away from bone. But he can’t let go.
Anakin is cursing somewhere behind him, talking furiously with Fives about bomb defusal and how to get the trigger out of his Padawan’s hand without causing irreparable damage. Rex just holds Ahsoka’s hand.
There are harsh, jagged scars zig-zagging across her exposed skin where the electricity has coursed through her. Her whole body is burned, though it’s worst around her neck where the shock collar sits. All Rex can do is watch Ahsoka groaning on the floor, rolling over onto her back, but Kix tells him to keep her on her side. So he grabs her shoulder to pull her back over, but then she yelps and Rex feels sick.
‘I’m sorry, ad’ika, I’m so sorry. It’s going to be okay, Kix is going to help you,’ Rex insists, looking at his brother helplessly but there is no reassurance in the cold determination written over the medic’s face. Under Rex’s gloved palm, there’s a mess of sticky, melted skin that peels away from the muscle of Ahsoka’s shoulder. The whole room smells of charred meat and blood. Nobody teaches a soldier this part of war. This is purely for them to learn the hard way.
‘Keep talking to her, Rex. There’s nothing I can do for her here, she needs a bacta tank if she’s going to make it,’ Kix explains mechanically. It’s not the first time Rex has had an issue with the medic’s unfeeling tone, but Jesse has pointed out several times that he only speaks this way because he cares. Rex bites back a scowl.
‘Well, can’t you give her something for the pain?’ Rex asks desperately, looking down at the girl’s face. She doesn’t even look to be in pain. Uncomfortable, perhaps but more than anything, Ahsoka looks resigned. Never before has Rex known her to give up.
‘Find me a vein and I’ll pump her with everything I’ve got,’ Kix snaps back, clearly reaching his own breaking point. It shuts Rex up, though, and he gazes down at his Commander, a child and he knows Kix is right. Kix is always right. There’s nothing to be done here. They need to get her home.
‘Stay here, keep that trigger finger down and we’ll figure out how to get her home, understood?’ Kix is giving the orders now as he and Jesse rise, not even waiting for an answer. Rex is left on the floor with Ahsoka, wanting nothing more than to wrap her up and hide her away forever, yet too terrified to touch her. Her hand is slick underneath his and he tells himself that it’s just sweat. It’s just sweat from the effort of holding down the button, not molten flesh slipping about under his fingers. Even Ahsoka’s montrals are burned, white turned black, and blue stripes lost among the damage. There’s nothing Rex can do.
They need to defuse the bombs now so they can bring Ahsoka home, and then they’ll get her in a bacta tank and everything will be okay. Ahsoka will be okay. She has to be. Defuse, home, bacta, okay. It’s all going to be okay.
‘They’re gonna get you out of here, ad’ika, I swear to you. We’ll get you home, you’ll be okay. I promise you’re going to be okay,’ Rex vows, quiet so only Ahsoka can hear over the laboured puffs of her breath.
‘Rex,’
He’s pretty sure that’s what she’s saying. It’s more of a garbled croak than anything else, a desperate plea jumbled by burned lips and exhausted lungs.
‘I’m here, kid, I’m here. Not going anywhere,’ Rex tells her, squeezing her shoulder where he’s holding her on her side ever so gently. Just a quiet assurance.
‘Rex,’
She says it over and over, like a prayer to a higher being though Rex doesn’t know what she’s praying for. There’s nothing for him to say, nothing that Rex can do.
‘Got it!’ Fives cries triumphantly. Rex’s head whips around to his brother who nods at him encouragingly. ‘Go on, it’s defused,’
As much as Rex trusts his brothers endlessly, there’s still that unnerving trepidation that sits in his gut as he carefully untangles his hand from Ahsoka’s, keeping his thumb in the trigger all the while. He will let go, after everything else, he won’t have this on Ahsoka’s conscience. Not that any of them would live long enough to know.
Rex does it quickly, like ripping off a band-aid, he rips his thumb away and stares at the device expectantly. Nothing happens.
‘Told you,’ Five smirks. ‘Come on, let’s go! General Fisto will be finishing up in the city, we can get the kriff out of here,’
Nothing has ever sounded better to Rex as he inches Ahsoka into his arms with endless care and slowly stands. Two slick arms wrap around Rex’s neck and he’s selfishly grateful for the air filter in his helmet because he knows the stench will be unbearable. There’s only one thing left for him to do now.
‘Time to go home, ad’ika,’