A/N I was inspired to write this by a fanfic from ao3 called Forever Fifteen. Please make sure to check it out! Also, I plan on updating Thorns soon, but I just haven't had the time. Shouldn't be any more than a week though.
Ashala can hear the screams of her brothers and sisters. Their anguished, blood curling cries cut straight to her heart. She deflects a blaster bolt as she makes her way to a youngling crèche.
One, two, three, four. Keep running Tamaline! she thinks. Her brown eyes narrow with concentration. The young woman tries to ignore the clones, men she has fought with, cried with, killed with, who fall by her hand.
Ashala's lungs burn as she forces herself to move. Her head hurts as she feels force presence after force presence dissipating. Her breath comes in gasps as she leans against a wall. Almost to the stairwell Tamaline! she thinks. You can do this!
The young Jedi stumbles up the steps, her green blade humming by her side. Ashala deflects shot after shot the clones fire, her lightsaber just an emerald streak. Bodies drop dead on the floor and the twenty-one year old's patience snaps. She goes on the offensive and her blade arcs. Heads, arms, hands, they're all lopped off in her path of destruction.
Finally, finally, she reaches the crèche. Ashala's always had a way with the younglings and when she could, she'd used to spend her time with them. She vaguely takes in the crèche name above the entrance, Drakon, before freezing. The doors are open. The doors are open. The clones have already reached them.
Ashala steps into the room warily, her lightsaber raised. Her blood turns to ice at the sight before her. Small, broken bodies lay sprawled out across the floor. Wrecked 'saber hilts are still held by lifeless hands and snarls mar the faces of the dead.
The young Jedi staggers forward and her knees give out. Golden-brown hands clutch at her head and Ashala's shoulders rack with sobs. A scream tears from her throat and she vomits, consumed by grief and rage and hatred and someone make this nightmare stop!
Ashala rises to her feet shakily. She closed her eyes and inhales deeply. She recalls the Jedi Code and repeats it out loud.
"There is no emotion, there is peace.
There is no passion, there is serenity.
There is no chaos, there is harmony.
There is no death, there is the Force."
The young woman takes comfort in the Code, especially the last line; the younglings are one with the Force. They are whole now. Complete. The pain in her chest doesn't dull however and the hatred for every non-Jedi in the Temple only burns with more fury. Ashala closes the eyes of the fallen and sighs. She releases her negative emotions into the Force. She wipes her mouth with the hem of her sleeve.
Suddenly, she senses a warning through the Force. Ashala doesn't have time to think. She raises her lightsaber hurriedly and deflects the attacks aimed towards her. The young Jedi winces; her form is getting sloppy.
Her thoughts are interrupted by a fierce pain that shoots up her left arm; a blaster has found its mark. Crying out in alarm, Ashala draws power from the Force. She pushes the clones who've stormed into the crèche back down the stairs.
Panting, Ashala's eyes scan for any possible escape route; she can't exactly go the way she came. Then, she sees the window. It's ludicrous, something not even Anakin Skywalker would have attempted, but she has no choice.
Ashala limps over to the window overlooking the Republic and swings her lightsaber down with all her might. The glass explodes and cuts at her skin, sending waves of pain through her. Ashala hisses in agony, her face twisting in a grimace, but she still jumps.
The young Jedi Knight feels the wind whipping through her hair. She winces at the whiplash she's getting and thanks the stars she had the good sense to deactivate her 'saber before leaping out of a window Force knows how many stories high. Ashala's eyes widen with horror when she spots a balcony below. Using the Force, she shifts her body so that she can reach a few simple curtains to slow her fall.
Ashala reaches them just in time. She grunts with pain and exertion but her fingers hold on to the only chance she has at survival in a vice like grip. The young Jedi can feel herself slowing down but she still crashes into the balcony so quickly it's like a blur.
The pain she feels is far worse than anything else she's ever experienced before. Ashala screams, not caring who hears, and her eyes swim with unshead tears. Her legs are on fire and her spinal cord feels like it's been shattered into a million tiny pieces. And then, it stops. Ashala feels her stomach clench with dread and she is still suffering from the aftershocks of her impact.
Her shoulders heave as she struggles for breath and she trembles all over but that's nothing compared to the terror she feels. Lifting her head, Ashala glances at the damage done to her legs and blanches. They're twisted at such an odd, unnatural angle it makes the Jedi want to vomit all over again. But why doesn't she feel anything? Ashala knows. Deep down, she's aware of the answer; she's paralyzed.
The Jedi just lies on the ground for a moment, staring up at the sky in horror and disbelief before something draws her attention. It's a comlink. Using her arms, Ashala drags herself into an upright position. There are still pain filled shouts and blaster fire, but the noise has lessened.
Ashala activates the device desperately and watches as it flickers to life. Hope worms its way into her heart, only for it to be stomped down as the comlink fails. I need to warn everyone outside of the Temple! Ashala thinks. Kriffing hells you blasted thing, WORK! she mentally roars the last part but it's of no consequence. The Jedi's shoulders sag with defeat. She lets out a broken wail, like that of a wounded animal before wrapping her arms around herself, uncaring of the pain in her left one.
"There is no emotion, there is peace.
There is no ignorance, there is knowledge,
There is no passion, there is serenity.
There is no chaos, there is harmony
There is no death, there is the Force."
As Ashala says these words, her resolve strengthens. She may be beaten, she may be paralyzed, she may have lost countless brothers and sisters, but she is still a Jedi. She was dubbed a Knight of the Republic and she'll be fekked if she doesn't die like one. She activates her lightsaber, steeling herself.
When the clones arrive, Ashala is ready. There, in a pool of her own blood, legs horrible disfigured, she takes as many of them down as she can. It is not out of revenge, no, although eh time of forgiveness is long past, but because how can Ashala call herself a Jedi is she does not defend herself and the Temple, the place where she was raised?
As round after round of blaster fire hits Ashala, the fierce, determined light in her eyes never fades. As the life drains out of her and she slumps against the rail of the balcony, her lips twitch upwards into a smile.
I lived, breathed, and died like a true Jedi, she manages to think. Now, I join the Force as one also. Ashala's eyes flutter and close. They never open again.