All alone in a cold gray cell, Ahsoka Tano prepared to die. Her small hands clenched tightly around her knees, which she had pulled up to her chest, and her eyes were closed with intense concentration. Her lips moved silently as she repeated an old Jedi mantra under her breath: I am one with the Force, and the Force is with me.
Ahsoka Tano was no Jedi, not anymore. She had been expelled from that sacred order, the one she had been a part of since she was but a toddler. Not only that, she had been cast away like garbage, forced to endure a trial rigged against her, and sentenced to rot in a cell while the Senate endlessly bickered over which method of execution would be the most humane.
Humane? Ha! She would have been dead weeks ago if Grievous had captured her. She would have died a long, torturous death, yet that would still be more humane than the festering hellhole she had been thrown into. Her captors never raised a hand against her, and the isolated cell she was assigned had no other prisoners nearby to torment her, yet Ahsoka still felt prison slowly eating away at her sanity.
She heard voices outside, and the Force surged. As the footsteps approached, Ahsoka straightened, and clamped her hands over her chest with feigned confidence. The door slid open with an obnoxious squeal, and Padmé Amidala entered.
Her face had gained several new lines since Ahsoka had last seen her, and her eyes were downcast with barely contained grief. "Hello," Padmé said weakly. She sat down next to Ahsoka, and briefly wrapped her arm around the young Togruta. The guard coughed loudly, and Padmé drew back.
Ahsoka looked up. "Any news?" She asked, already knowing the answer.
Padmé nodded. "They...they've come to a decision." She swallowed hard, laced her hands together. "We've come to a decision."
She rubbed her temples. "And?"
"The...the execution is...is tomorrow," Padmé said. Her voice hitched, and she turned away. "I'm...I'm so sorry, Ahsoka."
Ahsoka felt her heart plummet in her chest. "How...how...?"
"An...an injection of...of chemicals tailored specifically to your body chemistry. They...they say...it'll be a good death. Quick...easy...painless." Sighing, she turned back to Ahsoka, tears staining her face. "I'm...I'm sorry, Ahsoka."
"I'm...I'm sorry, too."
A look of confusion crossed Padmé's face. "Why? You have nothing to be sorry for."
"Yes, I do. I'm sorry...I'm sorry for leaving you."
Padmé took her hand and gently squeezed it. "It's not your fault, Ahsoka. The blame is all mine. I...I failed."
She shook her head. "No, you didn't."
"If I had succeeded...you'd...be back... in the...in the temple. You'd be safe."
Ahsoka let out a humorless laugh. "Yeah, right! Like they'd ever let me back in."
"Even if you were proven innocent?"
"No one gets a second chance, Padmé," Ahsoka replied. Gently, she pulled her hand out of Padmé's grip. "Not with the Jedi."
Padmé straightened, in an instant transitioning from heartbroken friend to Senator. "That can't be right," she said.
Ahsoka blinked sadly up at her. "I don't know if it's right," she said softly. "But I know for a fact that it's true."