Desperation
"The Force called me here. There must be something I can do." Ahsoka thought.
She dodged two shots from Cad Bane, ducked beneath a brutal swipe from Bossk's claws, and deflected a shot from C-21 Highsinger, all while keeping a firm force grip on Ventress's saber. "It's just another mission. Just a bunch of droids with blasters. Nothing I haven't dealt with before. Oh, but I should keep them alive. Bane is scum, but Embo is honorable, Sugi is a hero, and I don't even know—"
Ventress screamed.
A pulsing wave of force energy was carried in that hellish sound. Bane and Bossk were knocked off their feet. Sugi dropped to one knee, clutching her heart. Embo's dog ran away, master following close behind. The scarred human and the rodian were convulsing on the ground, frothing from the moth.
A terrible tremor coursed through Ahsoka's montrals. Her horns heard sounds more acutely than human skin flaps, which made Ventress's wail all the more debilitating. Through the blinding agony, Ahsoka wondered if she was feeling her montrals being rent from her head. Then she questioned if cutting them off would be worth ending the pain.
Fett squeezed the trigger again, aiming for the base of Ventress's spine.
Ventress's force scream intensified.
The cacophony did nothing to hinder C-21. The droid took advantage of the situation by blasting a shot through Ahsoka's shoulder.
Her arm went limp, and the lightsaber fell from her grasp.
Somehow the new pain cut through the old, and the familiarity of a blaster wound gave Ahsoka clarity. "The Force brought me here," she thought. "If it wants me to die, there's nothing I'll be able to do to stop that, so don't think about it. If I'm supposed to just escape, it wouldn't have brought me here. So I must be able to help Ventress somehow. Just think. I've been in worse situations. I escaped Grievous while protecting younglings. No one died then. No one dies today. Just think."
Fett fired a third time, into Ventress's throat.
The scream stopped.
Ahsoka stopped thinking.
She felt anger.
Maybe someone will die today.
With her one working arm, Ahsoka reached out and pulled the Mandalorian warrior away from Ventress. She realized when his armor slammed into her that he was heavier than she anticipated, but that didn't matter. The force was her ally, and it flowed through her small frame. She kicked his legs out from behind him and forced him to his knees. Boba flailed wildly but ineffectually as her good hand snaked around his torso and began crushing his relatively unarmored throat.
"Get away or he dies!" she cried. Something was wrong with her hearing, everything sounded like she was underwater.
The assorted bounty hunters did not run. Most of them didn't move. Dengar and Greedo were out cold. Sugi looked like she was recovering from a heart attack. Highsinger and Bossk looked unsure of how to proceed. Bossk looked to Boba for instruction. Highsinger looked to Cad Bane.
Ventress wasn't moving.
Focus.
"Hostage ain't worth much if the other party don't much care for 'em." Bane said, his voice strangely distorted in Ahsoka's mind. He wasted no time in in leveling a shot at Ahsoka.
Ahsoka quickly hid behind Fett's Mandalorian armor. Bane's shot ricocheted off Boba's forehead.
"Cute trick. But what do you think happens after you kill him? You're still outnumbered, and—" he took a second shot. This one went wide, hitting the ground near Ahsoka's feet.
Ahsoka realized the intention of his new aim too late. The metal cylinder on the ground next to her exploded, the crystal within rupturing in a roaring flash of yellow light. The yellow lightsaber that had served her so well since Mortis was now useless.
The explosion was small, harmless, but the roaring in her montrals wouldn't stop, the sound growing and building and hammering on her psyche. And then it stopped. Everything stopped. There was no sound.
The distraction was costly. Boba slammed his head backwards, breaking Ahsoka's nose. He managed to squirm out of her grasp, but he had Ahsoka's attention now. While he struggled to get to his feet, Ahsoka's focused her strength once again and struck. Her fist was guided to his jetpack, and while she felt her middle finger break from the impact, the jetpack ignited, terribly burning Ahsoka's legs, but shooting Fett into the sky, away from her.
"That's another bounty hunter out of the fight, at least for the moment," Ahsoka thought, ignoring her compounding injuries, quickly rolling to dodge Bane and C-21's renewed laser fire, and to put out her flaming leggings. "I need a weapon."
Ventress's lightsaber laid next to her unmoving body.
Focus.
Ahsoka scrambled to her knees, ignoring the fresh wave of pain from her burnt legs, and reached out with the Force.
Her old green lightsaber launched into the air, ready to protect her once again.
Bossk caught it. With a hissing grunt and a twist of his powerful arms, he snapped her first lightsaber in two.
Ahsoka's heart sank. Her adrenaline abandoned her. All her pain and exhaustion seemed to crash down upon her at once. It was all she could do to not pass out. She would die here, and she'd done nothing to save Asajj.
Cad Bane sauntered up to her. He aimed his pistol between Ahsoka's weary eyes. She realized he was talking, even if she wasn't hearing.
Staring down death, with no energy for escape or hope of rescue, the most absurd thought entered her mind. She'd seen so many deaths preceded by a clever one-liner or witty quip, but what did it matter at all to the person dying? She found a strange solace that her last thoughts wouldn't be of her killer's choosing.
With an intense shock, she realized that these were her last thoughts. She closed her eyes, not wanting Cad's ugly sneer to be her last sight. She'd always wondered how it might end, hoped that the last action her brain would perform would be to call forth the memory of mentors and masters, pupils and padawans, friends a loved ones, all the greatest things in her life so she could become one with the Force with that satisfaction to guide her.
Instead her mind went to Ventress, wondered what she'd be like if her life had taken another path. She was about Anakin's age; perhaps they would have been friends. Rivals, more likely. The ridiculous image of Asajj in Jedi robes, with a full head of carefully arranged hair swam to the fore of her mind. Despite everything, she felt a small bubble of laughter escape her lips, with an aftertaste of longing and regret.
Ahsoka was still alive. Her strange last thoughts should have been cut short several seconds ago. Curiosity and confusion dragged her eyes open.
Cad Bane had dropped his pistol, was staring at his own chest. A strange, familiar glow pulsed at the surface of Cad's sternum. Then a second bolt found a home in his heart, and a third in his gut. He fell to the ground, dead red eyes staring at his fallen blaster.
Ahsoka turned a bleary eye towards the blast's source on the nearest rooftop. A figure stood there in shiny white armor. Clone armor. Holding a standard DC-15A blaster rifle. Rex? Fives? No, this trooper was skinnier than any of her friends in the 501st.
While Ahsoka looked on, the trooper leapt from the high ground, delivering a flying stomp to C-21 Highsinger's shoulders. The trooper maintained his balance as the droid fell flat on his back, and rapidly unloaded a barrage of shots into the droid until it stopped moving.
Bossk rushed towards the new combatant, weapon forgotten, claws on display. Sugi's stunner caught him full in the back, and the Trandoshan collapsed face-first into the cobbled stone.
Sugi rushed towards Ahsoka, concern and compassion written across her face. She was saying something, but Ahsoka couldn't hear.
The trooper waved his hand and Sugi's weapon twisted in her hand and fired a stunning blast into her own chest. She dropped to the pavement as though dead.
Ahsoka turned to the trooper with new suspicion.
"Clone troopers can't use the Force. Who are you?" Ahsoka asked.
The Mirialan removed her helmet.
Barriss.
The dam Ahsoka had built up around her emotions was weakened by her exhaustion, pain, and desperation. The sight of her old friend reinforced it as never before. She would not show this terrorist how much her betrayal had hurt and confused her. When this disgusting bitch looked on Ahsoka, she would see a Jedi that all the Order should be proud of.
Ahsoka struggled to her feet. Her burns didn't matter. She straightened her shoulders. The blaster wound would heal. She looked down her broken nose at the moss-faced backstabber disgracing the clone uniform.
"What is it that you want, Offee."
Shame crossed Barriss's face. Appropriate. And something like hope as well. Unacceptable. Words spilled from Barriss's lips. Ahsoka had no talent for lip reading, but suspected that she saw the word "sorry" leave her hateful lips. This was some kind of apology, prolonged by Barriss's inability to get to the point. Eventually her lips quit moving, her eyes searching Ahsoka for a reaction.
"…Is that all?" Ahsoka said, striving to fill each vowel with as much disdain as possible, each word with just as much righteousness. "You shouldn't have bothered. I've moved on. The galaxy has moved on. Not that you're likely to make it far before you're arrested anyways. You never were much of a Jedi."
Every word was a lie, but it felt good to hurt her. And judging by her despicable face, Ahsoka's words did still mean something to her.
Barriss's lips began moving again, but then stopped, new suspicion crossing her face. Barriss's eyes darted towards Ahsoka's montrals. Ahsoka wondered if the damage done to them was visible. Whether that was the case or not, Barriss seemed to have jumped to the right conclusion. She holstered her stolen rifle and began waving her arms and fingers around.
Of course she knew sign language. Not that it was of any help, Ahsoka couldn't sign the alphabet.
Barriss seemed to recognize this and changed tact. She waved her hand, pulled the dirt from between the cobblestones to write words in the air. "I can fix you." She removed the trooper gauntlets from her hands and began advancing upon Ahsoka.
Barriss had always been especially talented at using the force for healing; a natural consequence of training under Master Luminara. But the thought of owing Barriss anything, of allowing her to repay the wrongs she'd dealt Ahsoka in any way repulsed the Togruta in every part of her being.
"Get away from me!" Tano snarled.
Barriss sighed, turning away. She didn't speak any more, but the dirt twisted in the air, forming new words, "The one with the jetpack will return. I'll let you save yourself. But I am, truly, sorry."
Ahsoka had no time for her apologies, but the words about Boba reminded her of all that had happened before the Mirialan's appearance, of Ventress.
"…Wait." Ahsoka said, voice cracking, hating her own desperation. "If you mean what you said. If you really mean to make things right, then heal her." Ahsoka gestured feebly to Ventress's unmoving body. She was too shattered to even sense if her partner was still alive, but she had no hope of saving anyone in her condition. Many people had died for her pride. Ventress wouldn't be one of them.
Barriss turned back to look at Ahsoka, and the togruta was startled to see tears slipping down her cheeks. But Barriss's lips were curled in disdain. She spoke to Ahsoka, not bothering to translate herself in any way. She knelt next to Asajj.
For a moment, the cobbled street was perfectly silent.
Ahsoka's strength met its limit, and she collapsed to the ground. She clawed ahold of consciousness, watched Barriss work on her partner.
Barriss stood, raised more dirt words into the air. "She'll live. I sent you to death undeserved, and now I've saved her life undeserved. We're even. Farewell, Ahsoka Tano." Barriss leapt to the nearest rooftop where a shadowy silhouette waited. A pair of lightsabers hung from the unknown figures dark robes, face obscured by a deep hood. The pair of them disappeared from sight.
Ahsoka begged the Force for just a bit more strength.
She never remembered the hour after that. Not the torturous crawl to Ventress's body, nor her halting shuffle as she carried her back to the Banshee. Not the haphazard flight preparation, nor the Slave I's sudden attack.
Not her desperate maneuvering of the unfamiliar controls.
Not the blind jump to hyperspace.