Hera felt her breath quicken, her heart racing and thumping against her chest. Her hands were above her, dangling from restraints that held her suspended in the air. She didn't know how much longer she could remain.

Opening her eyes, she only saw the panel that led to the door out. The only way out. Hera struggled briefly, her arms twisting against the shackles. She lost hope, sinking her head low. It was useless. She was done for.

As the hours ticked by, Hera guessed that it had been almost two days since the capture, she felt her energy decrease. No one had come for her yet, and she wasn't given any kind of meal or water. Water she desperately needed. Hera tried to lick her lips but her mouth lacked saliva.

Sacrificing herself was a big risk that she took and Hera didn't regret it at first. Now, however, she was frightened of what was to come. There was no indication that Thrawn would see her again, and Hera could manage with tightening her grip around Pryce's neck. The weird creature that had defeated her would be a goner much the same way if she ever were to escape.

Hera was almost certain that the Rebellion would not come rescue her, however, Kanan and the crew might swoop in to save her. Not that she wanted them to, but could sure use some help.

The darkness swirled around in her mind as her eyes closed. This would be the end for Hera Syndulla.

A sound of the automatic door swooshed open, the dark room now flooded with light. Hera was blinded by the sudden light, squinting her eyes. Hearing footsteps, she quickly adjusted them, focusing on the subject stalking towards her. It was Governor Pryce. Hera scowled.

"You'll never win," she barely whispered caused by the dryness of her throat. She coughed, some of which blood was spat.

"I believe I have, Syndulla," Pryce chuckled darkly, "and I'm celebrating the victory with some nice refreshments."

Hera's eyes lowered to where her own blaster was holstered onto Pryce's belt.

"Perhaps you've celebrated too early, Governor Pryce," came a voice from behind, to which belonged to Admiral Thrawn's. He stood, holding two wine glasses. He grinned mischievously.

"To be good hosts, we must celebrate with our new guest."