Ahsoka Tano One-Shots

Warm, Welcome Arms

Heyo, human beings from outer space!

I wasn't planning on writing this until approximately a few minutes before I went to bed last night and I thought about it all night which means now I'm sleep deprived and I could't help but get it out on paper becuase inspiration is precious.

Don't let the title deceive you. 

Read on if you dare. 

Guilty. Guilty. Guilty.

The word echoed in Ahsoka's head, ringing in her montrals.

Guilty.

It was over, and there was no hope left for her. She clung to one last shroud that grew closer and closer to flickering out with every step.

"Move it, Tano," gruffed out an all-too-familiar voice as a firm hand shoved her shoulders roughly. Ahsoka stumbled, tripping over her feet. With her hands bound behind her back, her balance was thrown askew, and the Force-suppressing restraints only succeeded in making it worse.

Rough hands grabbed her shoulders and dragged her gracelessly to stability.

Guilty.

Back to walking steadily on her feet, Ahsoka drew in a deep breath and closed her eyes, attempting to center herself in the little of the Force she could reach through her bonds. It was stranger feeling now– unlike she'd ever felt it before– and maybe it was just Ahsoka, but she thought there was little distinction between light and dark.

At her Jedi trial, Master Yoda had said the Dark Side was clouding many events, but she'd felt like it'd blent with the light. It felt even less separate through her bonds during her trial with the Senate, and with the memory of this event, her heart clenched painfully.

Guilty.

Oh, how Anakin and Padmé had tried to prove her innocence, and oh how she was eternally grateful for that, but in the end it'd amounted to nothing: Only two senators had voted for her to walk free, to live, and Ahsoka wished she could know who they were so she could thank them before she was executed.

Guilty.

It was almost funny how a life could be stolen so suddenly. Ahsoka fought back a hysterical laugh as she opened her eyes and looked around at the clones marching her to the room where she'd certainly die.

Guilty.

Oh her brothers, who she loved so dearly, and who looked positively stone-faced as they carried out their orders. Who could blame them? They couldn't disobey orders, not even for her. And if they could, why should they? They weren't her battalion, they were Fox's, adorned in red armor and all.

Guilty,

Ahsoka smothered another laugh. She should be honored, everyone thinking a mere 17-year-old such as herself could be a mastermind in the situation. If only she was this intelligent truly, and then she could've smarted her way out of this whole mess.

But she wasn't smart enough, she was guilty, and now she was going to be dead.

Seventeen, falsely accused, and ready to die.

Guilty.

The clone directly behind her none-too-gently thrust her into the execution room and the whole squad filed in, shutting the heavy door and securing it. Fox himself chained her to the wall, arms up. She felt through the little Force she could that something was off with him, and humored herself in wondering if he was fighting an internal battle of weather to kill a friend or carry out orders.