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Ahsoka has trained for this moment. She should know exactly what to do. Anakin has run through hundreds of scenarios where this could happen and he’s taught her how to deal with each one. But she’s coming back to consciousness now in a Separatist ship and everything is blurry and her head feels fuzzy. Ahsoka can’t remember a single one of Anakin’s teachings.
It’s stupid really; this should never have happened. It was a routine op and there was no reason at all for it to end up like this. It was an infiltration mission that Ahsoka and five of her best men had been sent on to sneak onto Nute Gunray’s ship to download a recording of a secret meeting between the Separatists and three unknown Republic leaders who are rumored to be turning on them.
It’s a mission Ahsoka could run in her sleep, especially with someone as incompetent as Gunray running the ship. Ahsoka has no idea how it happened. Gunray couldn’t have known that they were on the ship - they’d disabled the cameras, snuck in through service corridors and stayed out of sight. Somehow, they knew and now Ahsoka is strapped down to an interrogation board in a dark room, hopefully still on the same ship she had infiltrated.
The straps are tight around her body and every time Ahsoka twists slightly to try and get a better look at the room around her, they rub against her skin. When she looks down at the state she is stuck in, beads of blood are beginning to drip down her arms where the straps rub her bare skin.
Nobody else is in the room with her, but Ahsoka can sense somebody standing outside her door. They’re excited about something, but it’s not a normal excitement. An animalistic hint to the feeling sets Ahsoka on edge and she tries not to focus too much on the feeling.
Instead, she sets her sights on the room around her, trying to clear her head of the remaining fog from whatever sedative was given to her, and squinting through the darkness to try and make out anything that might help her escape. A small weakness in the panelling or a vent she can squeeze through, but the room is air-tight in it’s security and no doubt built to hold somebody like her.
Ahsoka can’t sense anything beyond the one living being outside the room which means that something is blocking her senses. She has no way of telling if Rex and the others have been taken along with her, or if they managed to escape. She hopes they got out. Something about this place is giving her a bad feeling and, selfishly, she hopes that somebody managed to get out and send a distress signal to Anakin.
A long stretch of time passes before Ahsoka senses any change. Enough time goes by that the sedative works its way out of her system and her limbs start to feel more like her own again. Her mind clears enough that she can think straight now, but her senses are still off and when she tries to use the Force to loosen the straps around her body, she finds herself met with what might as well be a duracrete wall.
Anakin would be telling her to use this time to prepare herself, figure out what they’ll have taken her for and make a plan.
In theory, it seemed like smart advice. In practice, Ahsoka reckons he took that banthashit straight out of one of the clones’ stupid reg manuals. Ahsoka knows what they’ll have kidnapped her for; they’re in the middle of a way, the only thing she would be kidnapped for is information. And she can’t really make a plan because she can see that this room is going to be impossible to get out of, if she even manages to get the straps off somehow, there are no weaknesses in the walls to give her a way out.
So she sits and she waits, trying not to move too much and aggravate the wounds on her arms. She wonders if they’re trying to play some kind of mind games with her by leaving her to stew, or maybe they’re working their way through her men before they get to her. Or maybe they’re bringing her to somebody else and waiting until they arrive.
Ahsoka doesn’t have to guess for much longer, though, as the being outside the door seems to perk up, and moments later Ahsoka feels two other life forms approaching her room. It doesn’t feel the way it should, though, there’s something muffled about her senses, like she’s inside a fish bowl and seeing everything through distorted glass.
The door slides open with a hiss and two battle droids enter, holding their weapons to their chests and marching towards her. Behind them are Nute Gunray and a man Ahsoka has not met before dressed in an officer’s uniform and striding towards her with his chest puffed out. The first being Ahsoka had been able to sense stays outside.
Viceroy Gunray hangs behind the other man, and Ahsoka had expected him to look more like a respected Seperatist leader rather than a child trailing after their parent.
‘Well, well, well. Commander Tano, in the flesh,’ the officer says in a silky smooth voice that sets Ahsoka’s teeth on edge. ‘Quite the catch, aren’t you, Commander? What will Count Dooku say when I tell him that I have caught the infamous Ahsoka Tano?’
‘Actually, it was I who―’
‘Quiet!’ the officer snaps, cutting Gunray off abruptly. ‘I am talking to our visitor,’
Ahsoka scowls at the officer, levelling him with the most intimidating look she can musted whilst strapped down to an interrogation board.
‘Who are you?’ Ahsoka snarls, making an effort to show her teeth as she talks, just to prove that even without her lightsabers, she’s a force to be reckoned with.
‘I am Officer Pilgon, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance,’ he responds calmly, entirely unphased by Ahsoka’s efforts.
‘I don’t think you’ll be saying that when I’m through with you,’ Ahsoka retorts.
Pilgon smiles at her in a horrible, condescending way. ‘That’s adorable. When we’re through with you, you won’t be begging for mercy. You’ll be begging for death,’
A jolt of fear pangs in her gut, but Ahsoka shoves it aside without a second thought and maintains the snarl on her face.
‘I don’t fear death,’ she tells him. ‘What do you want from me?’
‘We need information,’ Pilgon explains, once more ignoring her attempts to reciprocate his intimidation. ‘We need to know what the Republic is doing, their tactics, their techniques, who these clone commanders are and what we should know about them. I believe you will have much of this information we require,’
‘I’m not saying a word,’ Ahsoka tells him firmly. This, she at least knows, is the truth. She’ll live a hundred lifetimes of agony before she betrays her brothers.
Pilgon smirks. ‘We’ll see about that,’
He turns on his heel and the two battle droids follow suit but they stop short when continues to watch Ahsoka. Pilgon makes an angry gesture with his hand, motioning the Viceroy to exit the room and he jolts slightly, as if only just realising that their interaction is at an end. He turns abruptly and the group leaves.
The door opens once more with a hiss, but before it shuts, the third being that Ahsoka has absent-mindedly been trying to keep an eye on enters the room.
Ahsoka has never seen a creature quite like this. He has pale green skin and a long, wrinkled face with two tiny black dots for eyes which lock immediately on to Ahsoka. His thick purple lips curve up into a smile and Ahsoka catches a glimps of rows of jagged teeth. A long, reptillian tongue flicks out of his mouth and he hisses.
‘Are you ready?’ He speaks slowly, as if each word is giving him immense pleasure. ‘You belong to me now, and I can’t wait to hear you scream,’
***
It might have been minutes, or hours or even days. It’s hard to keep track for Ahsoka, who is hanging limply against the straps of the board, panting heavily. The sweet taste of blood sits in her mouth as thick, dark red liquid drips from her lips. Her chest aches and her whole body is burning from the pain.
‘I… am not… telling you… anything!’ Ahsoka pants for what must be the hundredth time between heaving breaths as she dares to look up at the creature who is merely grinning at her. A low laugh rattles through his lungs as he walks a lap around her.
‘Oh, I love a challenge. I really do,’ he tells her, raking his long fingers down the backs of her montrals, digging his nails into the flesh at the base of her skull. ‘But, I do have to deliver what Pilgon wants. You’ll break eventually, you just have to decide how much pain you want to go through first,’
He’s back in front of Ahsoka now and she’s still glaring at him. She’s long since given up looking for a way out, given up on fiddling with the straps, given up on looking for escape routes out of the interrogation chamber.
‘I don’t care. I’m not breaking,’ Ahsoka assures him. Again, the creature only grins at her and then the pain explodes through her body again.
Every muscle in Ahsoka’s body seizes in agony as she shouts out against her will. Her fingers curl into fists at her sides and as her body writhes, the straps dig deeper into her skin, drawing more blood to drip down into the growing puddle beneath her feet.
The pain stops as the creature cracks his hand against Ahsoka’s face again and blood spews from her mouth, splattering across his face. He doesn’t so much as flinch.
What this creature is using to cause Ahsoka such pain, she has no idea. It’s not an electrical current, that’s for sure. Perhaps they implanted a chemical release pump somewhere inside her whilst she was sedated, but Ahsoka can’t see a button for her interrogator to press to cause the pain. It’s entirely inexplicable. But Ahsoka is too exhausted to figure it out and too depleted to care.
The pain returns in the blink of an eye and Ahsoka’s jaw clenches so tight she’s sure one of her teeth cracks and her eyes blow wide as she tries to focus on something else. Anything else. But the pain is all she can think about and it’s all there is in the whole universe as it courses through her body and ignites her veins.
It ends eventually with another blow to her face and she leans forwards limply against the restraints.
‘This is all up to you, Commander Tano,’ the creature tells her softly, his reptilian tongue flicking out again and hissing next to her montrals. ‘We can end this right now, no more pain. Just tell me what I need to know,’
‘Never,’ Ahsoka groans and looks up at her interrogator through lidded eyes. She has lost any will to appear defiant or strong in the face of this pain. All she has is her determination to keep her mouth shut.
‘Very well, then,’ the creature sighs and takes a step back. He watches her for a moment before moving again and Ahsoka wonders if he’s starting to get nervous. People like this don’t know what to do when they’re met with someone so determined not to talk. Most others would have broken by now.
Not Ahsoka.
All she can do now is stay resolute in her decision to not say a word and hope that somehow Anakin will find her before death does.
***
Time loses all meaning before long. Ahsoka has no idea how long she has been in these restraints. Very little has any meaning to her now other than pain. There are ridges in her skin where the flesh has been slit open by the straps and dried blood sticks to her skin and her clothes where she has bled so much and so slowly that it’s all dried around the wounds.
The creature comes and goes. He is the only thing that comes anywhere near her and Ahsoka never gets more than a few seconds warning before he comes through the door to prepare herself.
If she takes her best guess, Ahsoka would say it’s been about six standard rotations when a different signature in the Force approaches, one that dominates the several others that follow behind.
This one is full of rage, it is menacing and demanding altogether and Ahsoka knows that something has changed. Jedi do not show fear, but she watches the door, wide-eyed through hazy vision as it hisses open and she waits with bated breath to see who will come through.
It takes a while for Ahsoka to decipher this new-comer’s face. It’s twisted with anger and determination, blood dripping from a wound on their lower lip, and an old scar cuts through his eye.
Anakin.
Ahsoka whimpers as he approaches her, clipping his lightsaber back onto his belt as several clones filter in behind him, taking their positions to clear the room and watch the door. She has never been so glad to see her Master in her life.
‘An easy infiltration mission, she said. Could do it in her sleep, she said,’ Anakin scolds her playfully as he starts loosening the straps around her. ‘What did they do to you, Snips?’
A pitiful laugh bubbles up through her throat and gets caught on the blood and mucus clogging her airways slightly. Anakin’s brow furrows at the sound and he takes the last of the restraints away from her body. Ahsoka winces as the material is peeled out of her skin and, with no strength left to stand, she falls forwards into Anakin’s waiting arms.
‘I’ve got you, Ahsoka,’ he assures her gently, adjusting her so he can lift her up and carry her out. ‘Let’s get you home,’