"The bounty contract was for one jedi, not two!"
"You should not be so surprised that the master was found with his apprentice beside him."
"I lost eighteen of my Morgukai warriors to them! Eighteen!"
"A well-known risk for hunting jedi. Even for nikto bounty hunters such as yourselves. I did warn you not to underestimate them."
Ezra heard the voices floating to him through a hazy fog. Who was that? They didn't sound familiar. His eyelids felt like lead, but he forced them open. He was surprised to find everything dark. Where was he again? This didn't feel like his bunk on the Ghost. He was laying on something hard. And why was it so cold?
"I brought forty Morgukai based on your 'warnings.' You said it would be enough!"
"And according to you, you have the jedi in custody. I do not see the issue here."
Awareness hit Ezra like a bucket of ice water. He remembered what had happened before he lost consciousness. Kanan! He shot up quickly-and immediately regretted it. Dizziness assailed him. The room spun as he tumbled back down onto his back. His head pounded against a metal floor.
He took two deep breaths, waiting for his senses to level out. Honestly, he was a little surprised to be alive right now. Either the dart that brought him down contained something different than the one that hit Kanan, or there was a good chance that his master was alive too. Ezra pushed away his headache, willing his mind to focus. He reached out to the Force.
...And felt nothing. Not only was there a lack of Kanan's presence, now there was no presence at all. He couldn't feel anything. Not the pulse of living beings, not the gentle hum of the land, not the whisper of premonition. Ezra had only known he was Force-sensitive for under a year, but he now realized that even before that time, there had always been...something. He used to chalk it up to sheer dumb luck. It was how he had always managed to stay one step ahead of the recipients of his thieving and trouble-making. It was what helped him survive for so long on his own. To now so suddenly be without it left a bitter taste in his mouth. What have they done to me?
He tried sitting up again, slowly this time. He became aware of every ache plaguing his stiff body. Just how long had he been out? His injured leg felt like it had a knife sticking through it. It had not been bandaged or cleaned, but at least it looked like the blood had clotted on its own. Ezra reached a hand up to rub his sore neck. He started in surprise when his fingers landed on something metal instead of flesh. He quickly felt around with both hands.
His neck seemed to be encased by a metallic ring that hummed softly. A shock collar? Seriously? Ezra had only heard about such things. They were apparently common in the slave market, but were not something the Empire made much use of. Just who were these guys?
Now that his eyes were adjusting, Ezra could see that he appeared to be in some kind of small cell. The room was devoid of furniture and had no door to speak of, but the ceiling was made out of a metal grate with narrow slits. That must be how they put him in here. Dim blue light poured down in small shafts. The light was blocked out temporarily as a bulky body paced on top of the grate. Ezra could not make out much of the person's features from this angle, but his footsteps were heavy. He heard him say in a baritone, gravelly voice, "The issue is that the Force-suppressors that we had were intended for one jedi, and were supposed to last the entirety of the trip! We had to use all of it just to capture them both alive."
Force-suppressors? Is that what they used on him? Some kind of drug that blocked his connection to the Force? Ezra hadn't known such a thing was even possible. Of course to be fair, there was a lot he didn't know about the Force. Maybe it had something to do with the midichlorians, or whatever they were called. Perhaps someone had found a chemical that could drown out their effects for a time.
"You could have killed them," the second voice reasoned calmly. "You still can, if you like. There is still a reward for delivering him dead." This speaker sounded muffled, as if talking over a holo call. His clipped tone was unmistakably Imperial, but Ezra didn't recognize who it was.
"Less than half!" the first person spat back. "The reward for delivering the jedi dead is less than half of what it is for bringing him alive! Unless your offer has changed." His accent sounded the same as the aliens (nikto he had called them?) that attacked the rebels earlier, but this one's Basic was much more solid.
"The offer stands," the Imperial replied. "And so again, I really don't see the problem, Captain."
"I expect double payment when I deliver you both jedi alive," the nikto demanded. "Plus a service charge to replace the men I lost."
"You can't honestly expect that," the Imperial answered evenly. "It's no business of ours how many men you lost. If the jedi were too much for you to capture without great loss, then you should have just killed them from the beginning."
The nikto hissed something that sounded like a swear in his native language. "You have obviously never seen a jedi in person," he said. "Your estimations were wrong. They cannot just be killed. We tried. They knew. They always knew where we would be."
"We'll negotiate payment for the apprentice when you arrive, but your struggles in acquiring the cargo are your own. We hold all the cards here, Captain. If you choose to kill the jedi before they can wake up and cause you more trouble, and then bring us their bodies as proof, you will be paid the agreed upon amount, and the Empire's enemies will be dead. If you manage to contain them until you arrive and deliver them alive, you will also be paid and the Empire will have a valuable source of rebel information. If you choose to jettison them now out of defiance to us, then they will still be dead, and you will not be paid. No matter what you decide, the Empire cannot lose."
Ezra could see the nikto cross his arms stubbornly. "The Empire is not the only party interested in a pair of jedi. Do you think we have slave collars laying around our ship for no reason? The hutts provide quite a profitable market for sentient workers on Nar Shaddaa. I'm sure two from the almost extinct race of the jedi would fetch a handsome price."
The Imperial hesitated. "Do you honestly think the hutts would honor any sort of deal you made with them? Everyone knows you can't trust a hutt."
"But you can trust the Empire to honor their deals?"
The sneer in the response was evident. "Do not compare us to such lowlifes. ...I will speak to my superiors about the compensation fee for the boy. Sending you our coordinates for your hyperspace jump now."
"We are not heading your way until a deal is set. In orbit above Nar Shaddaa is exactly where I need to be if your offer falls flat and I need to contact the hutts instead."
The Imperial sounded frustrated now. "So be it. We will contact you with a new offer as soon as we have one. Just don't let your valuable assets escape in the meantime."
"Oh don't worry agent," the nikto replied smugly. "According to your sources, the serum should keep them out and inhibited for at least 6 hours. It's only been two. But take too long to decide your new price and we won't take the risk of keeping them."
Ezra heard an irritated sigh before the blue light above his cell disappeared, marking the end of the holo call. He quickly laid back down and shut his eyes. He heard the footsteps stomp his way and the clang of the nikto stepping on his grate. The alien seemed to pause there for a moment and then moved a few more steps. After another pause, he stalked away. There came the sound of a door whooshing up and closing, and then silence. Ezra waited at least a minute more before daring to move.
He sat back up and immediately went to work. There wasn't much time. The good news was that he was apparently on a ship that was still in orbit above Nar Shaddaa, which meant that Hera wouldn't be too far away. The bad news was that he had no way to contact her and tell her where he was. Naturally his captors had confiscated his lightsaber and his communicator, but he doubted they had checked all of his secret pockets. He had quite a few. It was one of the reasons he had refused to get a new wardrobe even when the Ghost crew had offered to replace his ragged street clothes.
Ezra dug deep into his left sleeve until his fingers closed around a small, thin object. He didn't have the Force, and he didn't have a proper screwdriver, but he had gotten out of scrapes with less in the past. He produced the lockpick, and then stood to examine the grate. Unsurprisingly, it had an automated lock on one side. Without his tools, he wouldn't be able to slice it. But the other side of the grate was screwed to the floor above with regular door hinges.
He had to stand on his toes on his one good leg while gingerly resting the other against the wall. He dug the pick into the nearest screw and turned it to the left over and over again. The process was agonizingly slow. Any second now, the Imperials could call back to present their new bounty offer, bringing his captors back into the room. He systematically attacked each screw as sweat beaded up on his forehead and his leg throbbed.
Finally, every screw he could reach was loose. After taking a deep breath, he gave a one-legged hop, thrusting his palms flat against the grate. It gave a loud screech as metal slid against metal. The hinges jerked, but did not fall off. Ezra paused, waiting to see if the noise would attract attention. After several seconds passed and no one appeared, he jumped again.
The hinges shook free and went clattering onto the floor. Ezra waited again, but luckily the nikto had either found something very distracting or were overly confident in the power of their serum. With a final hop, he hoisted himself out of the cell and onto the main floor.
The room was dark. It was circular in shape, had no windows, and only the one doorway. He did a quick scan of the walls and ceilings. No ventilation shaft. Drat. He tried to find anything else that might be useful. A few empty crates sat in one corner, but aside from that the only object in the room was the holo projector. It sat in the dead center of a circle of grated flooring. More cells, possibly. Although this honestly looked more like cargo hold than a brig. He saw several locks on the floor that looked newer than the accompanying hinges, leading Ezra to believe that this ship had probably been designed to stow cargo, but had since been converted to contain prisoners.
In the dim lighting, he limped carefully around the small space and peered through the grating. In the cell adjacent to his, he could just make out a long figure in green crumpled up against the wall.
"Kanan!" he cried as loud as he dared. He tried to reach out to him with the Force-and then remembered that he couldn't. Instead he knelt down and pressed his ear against the floor. He could make out the soft sound of slow breathing. Good. So the nikto hadn't lied when he claimed to have captured him alive.
"Don't worry Kanan," he whispered. "I'm going to get us out of here."
How exactly he was going to do that was another issue. While his mind started brainstorming, he set about loosening the screws on the door to his master's cell.
His first priority should be getting a message to Hera, he decided. But how was he going to do that without his communicator? As the last screw fell loose he glanced behind him at the holo table. Could it be possible that it wasn't encrypted? He supposed it was worth a shot. Pocketing the lockpick, he approached the projector and gave its power button an experimental tap. To his surprise, the console responded immediately and asked him for his desired transmission code.
Man, these nikto were dumb. If he could get a message out to Hera and then fiddle with the wiring a bit so that the transmitter was disabled, then the Imperials would not be able to get back with his captors before help arrived. Ezra punched in the code for the main Ghost line. Static and a glitchy, formless blue light resulted.
"Hello?" he said quietly. "Is anyone there? This is Spectre Six calling the Ghost. Come in."
A droid's babble suddenly answered in a frantic voice.
Ezra winced. "Chopper, quiet! I don't have much time. Let me talk to Hera."
Chopper shouted some more and Ezra searched for the volume control on the table.
Hera's face flickered into view. "Spectre Six, we read you! Where are you? Is Spectre One with you?"
"He's here," Ezra confirmed. "Just unconscious. Do you have Spectre Four? Is he alright?"
"He'll live," Hera replied solemnly. "Whatever you did to close the Phantom really sealed it up tight. The people that ambushed you couldn't get to him and decided it wasn't worth it to try. We picked him up and Chopper had to weld a hole in the door just to get it to open."
"Sorry," he said with a grimace. "At least it worked."
"What's your location?"
"We're in a bounty hunter ship in orbit somewhere above Nar Shaddaa. Apparently the Empire has a hefty bounty out for Spectre One after his escape from Mustafar. I heard one of the hunters talking to an Imperial and negotiating a price to deliver both of us. Luckily it sounds like we're worth more alive than dead."
A frown creased Hera's brow. "How are you contacting us? Did they leave you with your comm?"
"No, I'm borrowing their holo projector for now. Can you trace it to our location?"
Sabine appeared beside Hera. "I can trace it...I think. Specs are coming in now." She copied their captain's expression. "Quite clearly actually… There's no encryption at all."
Ezra wasn't one to second guess his good luck. "Good. I have no idea how many people are on this ship, so I can't say what kind of opposition you'll be facing. I don't even know how big this ship is..." He glanced behind him, praying that the door would remain closed.
"Ezra! What do you have on your neck?" Sabine said with sudden alarm.
He looked at her holo image and rubbed the collar with one hand. "Uh, I don't know. A shock collar I guess?"
"That's no shock collar. That's a localized detonator!"
Hera's eyes went wide. "Are you sure?"
"Positive. I'd recognize the design anywhere. They're rare, even on the black market."
"A localized what?" Ezra sputtered, trying not to panic.
"It's a detonator. It has a chip inside that's set to explode if you cross a certain boundary. Or sometimes there's a remote trigger. Slave owners will often put the chips inside a person's body, but if there's not time for that, then the collar works too. They're almost impossible to get off. That's what I've heard, anyway."
Ezra withdrew his hand as if the metal had bitten him. "H-how do I disable it?"
"Mmm, I'm not exactly sure, I've never had to do it before. If I was there, I'm sure I could play with it. But for now look around. Do you see a flat disc anywhere with a red light? Maybe on the wall or the ceiling?"
He swiveled around. His eyes landed immediately on a small blinking light tucked high up on the wall above the door. "Yeah."
"That's the trigger. Whatever you do, do not get too close to it."
Ezra scooted a bit closer to the holo table. "How am I supposed to get out of here? It's attached to the only door!"
"Just sit tight," Hera answered. She moved her hands swiftly as if pressing multiple buttons on the Ghost's control panel. "We're on the way."
Ezra started. "All by yourselves?" It was one thing when their crew went on a mission all together, but with he and Kanan captured and unable to use the Force, Zeb out of commission, and a potential army between them, he did not like the idea of Hera, Sabine and Chopper staging a rescue on their own. He was counting on them calling for backup from the Rebellion. "Can't you contact Fulcrum?"
"We called her as soon as we lost contact with you. But the fleet is still where we left them. We may not have the time to wait."
He opened his mouth to protest when suddenly the connection went dead. The images of Hera and Sabine flickered out abruptly. "Hera? Hey!" He frantically pushed the power button.
The door whooshed open behind him. "You know for a jedi, you're a bit of a disappointment. And every bit as predictable as I expected."
Ezra whirled around. The nikto that had made the call earlier stood in the doorway with crossed arms. He was flanked on either side by two others of his species, both taller and more muscular than he and holding long blaster rifles. Ezra recognized one of them as the leader of the attack on Nar Shaddaa.
Ezra automatically dropped into a defensive stance, pretending that it didn't send shocks of pain up his leg. "What do you mean?" he demanded.
"I mean you've fallen prey to my genius. I heard you waking up earlier boy, so I knew if I let you overhear my little conversation with our Imperial friend, you would come to understand your desperate situation. Desperation is a powerful motivator. All I had to do then was leave you alone with a means for open transmission, wait for you to find a way out of your cell, and let you contact the rest of your rebels. Now as soon as they arrive, we can collect the bounty for the lot of you." He pulled a data pad from inside his jacket and scanned through something. "You all have quite a sum sitting on your heads. You must have really stuck one to the Empire, eh? The highest bounty is for the jedi of course, but when my men found a boy with a laser sword alongside him, I decided to look into it a little deeper before I alerted the Imperials."
Ezra clenched his teeth. "Well you're just out of luck then," he growled. "No one knows we're here. They're not coming."
The captain frowned, seeming to lose his smug attitude. "Don't bother lying to me, boy. We heard your entire transmission. Oh, and your friend was right. If you so much as set one foot over this threshold, your collar will detonate, and we'll have newly painted red walls." He said something in another language to the two guards and then turned to go.
The nikto strode forward and each grabbed Ezra by an arm. "You'll regret this!" he yelled as fear chilled his bones. "We have powerful friends!"
"You aren't the only one," the captain commented casually over his shoulder as he exited the room.
One of the guards grumbled and pointed at the loosened door to Ezra's original space. The other one responded in kind as he keyed open a new cell and roughly tossed the young jedi down into it. The grate slammed shut above his head. This time, the nikto did not leave. He could see them both take a seat on top of the empty crates next to his compartment.
"I mean it! You'll really be sorry!" he shouted defiantly. "We have an army of jedi! They'll take you all out! And did I mention the Emperor is my uncle?!"
One of the nikto barked something that sounded vaguely like "Quiet!" at him before turning to his companion to converse in their own language.
Ezra slammed one fist against the cold wall. Great. Just great. Hera was going to jump straight into a trap. They were all going to be captured and handed over to the Empire. Every last one of them. And it was entirely his fault.
If it hadn't been for his leg, he would have started pacing. Think. He had to think. There was always a way out. Always.
He couldn't sweet talk himself out of this one. Most of his captors didn't understand Basic anyway. He couldn't use the Force, at least not right now. He wondered how long the effects would actually last. He didn't trust what the captain said. If it was really supposed to last six hours, then why had he woken up after only two? Then on the other hand, why hadn't Kanan woken up yet? Maybe they used a lower dose on Ezra?
He took a long breath. No harm in trying again. He reached out to search for the Force. He felt...something. A little tickle on the edge of his mind. It still felt blocked though. Like a muffled voice from far away. He supposed that was progress. Still, it wasn't enough for him to help Hera before it was too late.
With a frustrated sigh, he ran a hand over his face. And that's when it hit him. He stared at his wrist. His slingshot! They hadn't bothered to take it! They must not have realized what it was. How had he not noticed until now? A plan rapidly unfolded before his eyes.
The first part involved an act that had worked successfully for him many times in the past: make your jailers think you're dying. Especially if they're going to get a bigger payout for keeping you alive.
Ezra doubled over and started coughing. He took a deep breath from his chest and really hacked, letting the mucus build in his throat. He rasped and coughed and banged on the walls of his cell. Between wheezes he said weakly, "Please, help me…"
Right on cue, a shadow fell over his cage as the guards hussled over. Ezra coughed once more and then collapsed on the floor. One of them shouted something to the other one. He heard a beep and a click as the door to his cell was unlocked, and then a creak as it swung open.
Quick as a flash, Ezra sat up and let loose an orange ball of energy from his slingshot. The nikto that had leaned over to check on the prisoner got the full blast in his face. With a yowl he stumbled backwards, running into his companion. Ezra took advantage of their confusion to scramble out into the open. He kept firing a constant stream at them both.
The guard that took the initial blast covered his eyes with one hand and flailed with the other, which meant that his weapon tumbled to the ground. Ezra dove for it. He hoisted the heavy gun awkwardly against his shoulder as the second nikto struggled to regain his footing. He was not overly familiar with rifles; this one was quite a bit different than Zeb's. But it had standard settings, which meant a simple mechanism on the barrel should change it from regular shots to stun bolts. Probably. Ezra took his chance and fired on the second guard.
A blue ring of light burst forth and found its target. The nikto jerked and then went limp. Ezra wasted no time in stunning the other one. He let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding when they both lay motionless on the floor.
So much for the easy part. Ezra dropped the rifle and limped over to the unconscious guards. He confiscated their comlinks and keycards. Then with a mighty shove that took way more effort than he was expecting, he dumped one of them into his open cell and sealed the door. After keying open another cell, he did the same for the second guard. By the time that was done, sweat was trickling down his neck. Next time he saw Zeb, he needed to remember to thank him for being "the muscle" on their usual missions. It was hard work, especially when one of your legs felt like it was on fire.
Ezra took a quick moment to breathe. Ok. Now to warn Hera.
Not surprisingly, he found that the room's holo table still had its power externally cut. He examined one of the guards' comlinks. Maybe he could figure out how to slice it so that it could broadcast a signal to the Ghost instead of the other nikto.
Just then a deep rumble shook the ship. A second later another one came, this one more powerful. Ezra had to raise his arms to keep his balance. He could hear shouts of alarm ringing through the hallway somewhere beyond the door. Could Hera be here already?
He flipped on the comlink. Excited voices screamed over each other in the nikto language. If only he could understand it! Where was Sabine when he needed her? At least in Imperial captivity Ezra could have shouted confusing orders in the guise of a storm trooper. Oh well. No time to waste.
He produced another lockpick and went to work picking apart the small comm. The cover popped off the side fairly easily. He brought the device close to his eye to examine the intricate wiring inside. He could take the whole thing apart and put it back together again with ease, but changing the frequency was a more delicate matter. Something like that was usually Sabine's department. He wedged his pick inside and carefully prodded the main transmitter.
Another shock travelled through the infrastructure of the ship. Someone must have been firing on them from the outside. He expected the shields to hold for a while though. What could Hera have been planning, grabbing their attention like that? How was it a rescue if the ship was destroyed and the prisoners along with it? Either this was a ruse to distract the nikto…. or it wasn't Hera. He had to know for sure. He poked at the blue wire connected to the transmitter. If he could get it to reset, perhaps he could enter a new code.
After a full fifteen minutes of meticulous work, the commlink finally rebooted, its memory wiped. By then his feet had become accustomed to the vibrations rattling the floor. He had to hand it to the nikto, they had some powerful shields on this ship. When the comm came back online, he gave it the appropriate code verbally. At first, only static resulted.
"Hello? This is Spectre Six to Spectre Two. Do you read me?"
Static. Suddenly he got a sinking feeling in his stomach. What if his friends were losing the battle outside?"
"Spectre Six to Ghost. Please tell me you're still out there."
"I read you Spectre Six," Hera's very crackly voice answered. "Are you all—? We were worried—lost your transmission."
Ezra felt some of the tension leave his shoulders. "I'm okay. What about you? Are you the one attacking this ship?"
"—Cutting out Spectre Six. Stay where you-we're en route. Keep your comm open so we can—" Her voice dissolved into static.
"You're en route? So you're not here yet?"
There was no answer, but at least now he knew his crew were not the ones getting shot at. Not yet. That must mean someone else had decided to pick on the bounty hunters. Good. If they were distracted enough, maybe they wouldn't notice a couple of missing prisoners. If he could manage to get Kanan to an escape pod, the Ghost could retrieve them without the need for a fight. Now he just needed to figure out how to get out of this room without blowing up…
Ezra heard something large snap just outside the door. Then suddenly he was flying backwards. He slammed hard against the back wall a moment later and slid down to the floor in a heap. Everything flashed white in his eyes. Heat assailed him. All he could hear for one long minute was a high-pitched ringing.
As his vision slowly faded back into existence, he felt around on his hands and knees. There was shrapnel everywhere. He wasn't sure what exactly had exploded, but it must have been bad. The door to the cargo hold was split near the bottom and bent just enough for a stream of smoke to come trailing into the room. He could hear deep voices shouting frantically in the distance.
He tasted blood in his mouth. Pain sunk in from various parts of his body now, not just his leg. Most notable was the sharp sensation spreading from the back of his head. He must have hit the wall pretty good.
Suddenly the room tilted. Ezra thought he was losing his sense of balance until he saw that everything on the floor was sliding to one side. Then he realized what must have happened: they had lost the shields. Whoever was attacking them was not aiming to distract, but to destroy. The ship was going down.
Oh no. No, no, no, not on his watch. He just got Kanan back from Mustafar; he wasn't about to lose him to some blasted bounty hunters. They were getting out of here.
He crawled to Kanan's cell and peered through the grate. His master was still out cold. They really must have used a heavier dose of serum on him. Ezra had to get him out...there had to be a way… He tried to think through the pain.
All at once a new set of voices joined the chorus of shouting. These, while male, were not at all like the nikto. They were smoother and not as deep. They spoke in hurried Huttese, the second most common language in the galaxy. Ezra knew a few words. As a matter of fact, it was the language spoken by-
The refugees! He recognized the voice of the first twi'lek they had met with that day; the one who could not stop thanking Kanan for his kindness. What were they doing here? Ezra inched a tad closer to the busted door. "Hello?" he called out.
The voices abruptly fell silent. He could just see a pair of boots through the newly formed crack in the door. "Spectre Six?" the twi'lek answered.
Ezra could have fainted with relief. His code name had never sounded so wonderful. "We're in here! Can you get us out?"
More pairs of feet ran up to join the first. "We're here to rescue you! Hold on!"
The newcomers spoke quickly to one another as they shuffled around outside the door. "The panel is broken!" the twi'lek reported. "Are you restrained?"
Ezra looked at the sparking control panel next to the doorframe. It must have been damaged on both sides. No hope of opening the door the regular way. "Well no, but we can't go near the door. Any of you guys happen to know how to disable a detonation trigger?"
"Detonation?" the twi'lek echoed. The word sounded a bit strange in his accent and Ezra wondered if something was getting a bit lost in translation. "We had three bombs, but we had to use them to get this far into the ship. None left to blow the door!"
Suddenly another explosion rocked the ship. The floor tilted a little more. The feet outside stumbled, struggling to maintain their balance. Ezra looked at the stubbornly blinking disc on the wall. He still had the nikto's rifle. He wondered if destroying the trigger would disable the collars or make them explode. Really, it was about a fifty-fifty chance either way. He glanced down at Kanan again, weighing the risk.
And that's when he realized that the collar around Kanan's neck was different. It was wider than his and had two protrusions sticking out from the back that looked an awful lot like conduits for an electrical current. A shock collar! The bounty hunters either did not have as many slave collars as they claimed or they were very confident in the amount of Force-suppressor they had given Kanan. Which meant that if the detonator did blow, it would only affect Ezra.
He scooped up the rifle. That was a chance he was willing to take. Before he had even raised the gun into position however, he paused. What good would it do, even if the trigger was disabled? They still couldn't get to their rescuers. Not without a way to get through the busted door. If only he knew what they'd done with his lightsaber! If Sabine were here, she'd have plenty of charges to blow it open with. But there was no time to wait for her to arrive. All he needed was one good bomb.
His fingers found his collar. He had a bomb. If he could get close enough to the door, maybe jump at it, then the resulting blast might just be enough to clear an opening for the refugees to come in and get Kanan. Ezra swallowed hard.
The ship rumbled violently. There wasn't time to debate this with himself. The life support systems could go at any moment. Still, he found that he couldn't get his feet to move. The rifle fell from his grasp as his hands trembled and his heart hammered in his chest. Just do it, he told himself. You're running out of time. Do it now. It's the only way to save Kanan.
The faces of his friends, his new family, flashed through his mind. If he did this, he would never see them again. Hera, who almost never talked about herself, but always wanted to make sure that he was alright. Chopper, who showed, despite his best efforts to deny it, that he cared deeply about his crew. Zeb, whose gruff exterior concealed a fierce loyalty. Sabine, whose optimism gave him hope even in the darkest times. Kanan…
Suddenly Kanan's voice filled his mind. All of us have lost things. And we will take more losses before this is over. But we can't let that stop us from taking risks. We have to move forward. And when the time comes, we have to be ready to sacrifice for something bigger.
Ezra blinked. He understood. He finally understood what his master had been trying to teach him that day. Kanan had demonstrated it when he let himself get captured at the communication tower so that his crew could escape. Now Ezra could follow his example.
"Spectre Six?" the twi'lek called uncertainly.
"Stand back from the door," he answered resolutely. "I have a way to blast it open. Once it's clear, come in and get us, okay?"
The refugee hesitated and then said, "We'll do as you say. Hurry!" He may have suspected what was about to happen, but thankfully did not try to talk Ezra out of it.
As the ship rumbled precariously and smoke swelled ever greater in the room, Ezra clenched the commlink tightly in one hand. Somehow, he'd managed to hold onto it. He flipped the transmitter off and switched it to plain audio recording mode. "Kanan," he said into the device, "sorry it had to be this way. I wish there was another way out, but this time there's not. Please tell everyone I said goodbye, and thanks for everything. These past few months have been the best of my life. Really. You taught me so much. All of you did. I'm sorry I couldn't help you preserve the jedi teachings after all. I guess you and Ahsoka will have to take it from here. ...May the Force be with you, Master."
He was amazed at the sense of peace that came over him as soon as he stopped recording. He was doing the right thing, and it was going to work. Perhaps some amount of premonition was beginning to filter back to him. He bent down to Kanan's cell and keyed it open. Leaning over, he tucked the commlink securely inside one of the pouches on his friend's belt. Hopefully, he would find it later. Ezra closed the door again, but did not lock it. That would provide Kanan shelter from the blast, but would still allow the refugees to pull him out quickly.
Ezra stood and faced the door. He took a deep breath in. This was it. He settled into a crouch, ignoring the pain in his leg. In a minute that wouldn't matter anymore anyway. With another steadying breath, he sprinted forward and jumped for the door.
xXxXxXx
"Wake up Caleb Dume. ...Wake up!"
Caleb seemed to be...floating. Floating in pure darkness. He could not see anything. Where exactly was he? He did not recall how he got here.
"Wake up Caleb!"
That voice...it was Master Billaba's. Had he fallen asleep? Was this a dream? The form of his master faded into view. But she looked different. She was like a being of pure light, stark against the blackness. Why was she glowing?
"Master?" he managed to say. For some reason his voice sounded sluggish.
"Caleb, you need to return. Your padawan is about to die."
His padawan… That didn't make sense. Caleb was the padawan. He didn't have one of his own yet.
Master Billaba drew closer. Strangely, he found that he had to look down at her. Had she gotten shorter, or was he unusually tall? Her solemn brown eyes were filled with compassion.
"You must go now, my apprentice. He is going to sacrifice himself for you, but you must not allow it. You both have an important destiny to fulfill. Together."
Caleb blinked slowly. Nothing made sense. Why was his head so fuzzy? He could not seem to process anything she said. His Master stretched out one hand. "I will help you as much as I am able," she said. "But this will be the only time that I can."
The instant her hand touched his arm, a flood of Force energy rushed into him. He remembered that he was no longer Caleb Dume; he was Kanan Jarrus. He became aware of everything that had happened around him while he slept. And his padawan—
Ezra!
Kanan's eyes snapped open.
xXxXxXx
Ezra shut his eyes as soon as his feet left the floor, but he almost choked when he felt himself stop in midair. Blinking, he looked down to find his body hovering at least a foot off the ground. A loud clang from behind caused him to steal a look over his shoulder. The door to Kanan's cell went flying straight off its hinges and punctured the wall to the left.
Ezra was drawn backwards rapidly. Kanan leapt from his cell in time to catch him with one arm. He firmly gripped his padawan's shoulder.
"K-Kanan?" Ezra stammered in disbelief. Something was very different. He felt it instantly. Some sort of powerful aura surrounded him. He could feel it flowing into him through Kanan's hand. How was he so suddenly awake and able to use the Force?
His master scowled down at the detonation collar. He flicked his free hand. Ezra felt the metal fall off of him. With a gasp, he instinctively rubbed the skin on his liberated neck. Kanan kept the open collar suspended in the air in front of them. Then he made a slashing motion and sent it hurtling toward the door.
Ezra never saw the explosion because Kanan swiftly shielded him with his body. He did, however, feel the considerable heat wave that followed. When they both turned to the door a few seconds later, he paled. A long fissure had been rent in the doorway and the wall alike. Everything around, including the hallway outside, was charred black. He felt sick just looking at it. He wondered how none of the chunks of searing metal that rained down around them even came close to harming them, but he suspected Kanan had something to do with it.
Kanan's hand brushed the back of Ezra's head. He looked up to see his master frowning again, this time as he examined his fingers. They were stained red.
"Oh." Ezra reached back and felt for himself. There was a considerable bump forming, and it was indeed wet. In all the excitement he hadn't had much time to think about where he'd hit his head. "Yeah, about that. I just—oof!"
Kanan surprised him again by hoisting him up onto his back, like a kid taking a piggy-back ride.
"Hey! No really, I'm fine!" he protested, despite the fact that it actually felt wonderful to take the pressure off his leg.
"No arguments," Kanan snapped firmly. It was somewhat of a relief to hear his voice. Ezra had begun to believe that something was not only different, but wrong. The jedi strode forward with his ward clinging to his back. As he stepped through the crack in the wall and into the hallway, five twi'leks peaked around the corner. When they saw Kanan, they lowered their blasters. Ezra recognized them as the very blasters that had been delivered to them earlier that day. Nice to see they were being put to good use.
"Spectre Two," the leader greeted them. "Glad you're alright."
"What's the situation?" Kanan asked in what Ezra recognized as his no-nonsense voice. "Do you have a ship?"
The twi'lek nodded. "This way."
The lights flickered as they all dashed down the hallway. Debris littered the floor. A few pipes protruded awkwardly from the ceiling, leaking some kind of liquid down the grimy metal walls. Ezra had not seen anything outside of the cargo hold, but he guessed that even a bounty hunter's ship was not usually in such disrepair.
"Are you the ones doing this?" Kanan asked the refugees as they ran.
Their leader shook his head, his blue lekku swaying. "Rival nikto gang attacked this ship just as we arrived. The Kintan Kings. Nasty bunch. Known all over Nar Shaddaa. But lucky for us; the Xim's Blade were too distracted trying to defend themselves to stop us from boarding. Looks like they're losing though. We heard the shields blow."
Ezra tightened his grip around Kanan's collarbone to keep from sliding off. "The rest of our crew is headed this way. They're in a Corellian VCX-100 light freighter. Have you seen it?"
"No, but there are many freighter ships in this sector. We may have passed them without realizing it."
"We'll contact them as soon as we're on your ship," Kanan said. "There's no need for them to get involved at this point."
As they rounded a corner, Ezra noticed a series of circular doors positioned close together along the wall. Entrances to the escape pods, most likely. According to the display panel beside each one, the pods themselves were not attached. No wonder their group had encountered no resistance so far. Most of the crew had already abandoned ship.
And Ezra couldn't blame them. They farther they went, the worse conditions got. The smoke became so heavy that it made his eyes water. A shrill alarm was blaring somewhere. Open wires sparked dangerously. He was secretly glad he didn't have to limp through it all himself, and infinitely grateful that he wasn't alone and dragging Kanan's unconscious body.
"We're almost there!" the leader announced. Ezra had to admit he was impressed by the size of this ship. These nikto must have been a pretty influential gang. Which said something about the gang that was currently demolishing them.
They turned another sharp corner-and skidded to a halt. This hallway was engulfed in flames. Burning nikto bodies were scattered about the floor. A large section of the wall had collapsed directly in their path. The twi'leks looked at each other hopelessly.
Kanan narrowed his eyes at the scene. "Where's the entrance?"
The blue twi'lek coughed as he waved at the smoke wafting in his face. "Our ship is docked right through there, but…"
"Alright. Everyone behind me."
Their new friends looked bewildered as their leader translated for them, but they must not have seen the point of arguing. Ezra could feel Kanan's reluctance as they all fell into a single file line behind him. These people may be their allies, but they had not been told that the two humans were jedi. Not even everyone in the Rebellion knew. It wasn't exactly something they wanted to broadcast. The sad truth was that often times you never really knew who you could trust. But there was nothing for it if they were to get out of this alive. Ezra tried to focus on feelings of reassurance, hoping his master would pick up on it through their bond.
Kanan's back straightened a bit. He gently released Ezra so that he slid to his feet. "Stay close to me," he instructed. Ezra watched him raise both hands toward the flames.
Suddenly that strange aura he had felt earlier swelled. It wrapped around Kanan so strongly that Ezra felt it wash through him even without touching the jedi. As a matter of fact, Ezra could have sworn there was a pale blue glow about Kanan. Debris and bodies shifted themselves out of the way, clearing a path.
The twi'leks gasped. Ezra glanced back to see them watching with wide eyes. Kanan started walking and they followed in his footsteps. He waved his hands again. Miraculously, the flames around them sputtered out. With each step he took, the floor cooled. When they came to the broken wall, he gestured for them to stop. He clasped his hands together and Ezra watched amazed as the thick durasteel scrunched itself up and then went flying farther down the hall. Kanan strode forward.
The circular hatch in the flooring that allowed access to a docked ship had been partially welded shut from the heat. Kanan made a motion like yanking on a rope and it popped open, sending drops of molten metal flying. "Let's go!" he called, waving them forward.
The twi'leks remained silent as they cautiously made their way through the hatch and down the ladder into their ship. Ezra let them go first. Just as he moved to follow them, something caught his eye. Among the debris were two familiar objects; one a straight rod and one rectangular. They were lightsaber hilts. "Kanan, look!"
The jedi immediately saw what he was pointing at. They looked to have fallen off the belt of a nikto that was only just recognizable as the captain. He probably realized that he might not make it out of this with his prisoners intact, but at least a rare weapon could fetch a decent price on the black market. Too bad for him an explosion had changed his plans for good. Kanan called both sabers to him. "Good eye," he said, tossing Ezra his.
The boy quickly returned his custom weapon to its hook and his belt and then hobbled down the ladder. The ship he dropped into was dark and cramped. It looked to be about twice the size of the Phantom. Two of the twi'leks were at the helm, frantically adjusting the controls. Kanan slid down to join them. He flicked his wrist, and the ship's door slammed shut. "What's wrong?" he asked, coming up beside the refugees.
The leader examined the writing scrolling across the control panel. "It says the fuel line has been disconnected! It must have been damaged from the outside!"
Kanan frowned. "Is it broken? Or just disconnected?"
The twi'lek did a double take at the panel. "I'm...not sure."
"Let's find out." Kanan closed his eyes, holding up one hand. Ezra wished he could help him. He was tempted to try connecting to the Force again, but his headache was coming back with a vengeance. For now, it would be best to leave it to his teacher.
Their craft rumbled ominously. They needed to detach from the bounty hunter's dying ship as soon as possible. When it blew, so would they. Finally, Kanan lowered his arm. "Try it now," he said.
The refugees activated the controls again. This time the internal lights flicked on, and a reassuring engine hum purred to life. With a decisive snap of the release, they soared away. One of the twi'leks said something in Huttese that sounded like an expression of relief. Even without totally understanding, Ezra couldn't agree more. He sunk into one of the hard seats lining the wall with a sigh. The refugee that had spoken patted him on the shoulder and smiled. He smiled back instinctively.
The reprieve didn't last long. Mere moments after they broke free, their vessel shook as a shot grated against their meager shields. Ezra gripped the edges of his seat. "Where did that come from?"
Kanan hunched, peering out the viewport. "The other nikto gang."
Ezra limped up behind him and looked too. A ship with a design like he had never seen before hovered hauntingly among the stars. It was smaller than a star destroyer, but still an impressive spectacle. Small streaks of light shot from it in various directions. Little orange bursts sprang to life and then quickly died out across the expanse. "They're firing on the escape pods," he realized aloud.
"And they think we're one of them," Kanan agreed.
The refugee swerved their small ship uncertainly. "We'll land on Nar Shaddaa," he said. "You can hide with us until we can contact your crew."
"Wait," Kanan said suddenly, leaning forward and squinting. After a second he threw himself into the co-pilot seat. Ezra watched as he booted up the short range communication transmitter and keyed in a code. "Spectre One hailing the Ghost."
Ezra quickly looked out the window again. Sure enough, he could just barely make out the shape of his new home soaring in between the pods, dodging blasts from the nikto ship.
"We read you Spectre One!" Sabine's excited voice replied. "We've been looking for you! Are you in one of the escape pods?"
"No, we're in a small hauler with some of the members of the Nar Shaddaa cell."
"Is Ezra with you?"
Ezra allowed himself a smile at her concern. He considered making some kind of joke, but he just didn't feel up to it. His head hurt really, really bad.
"He's here," Kanan confirmed. He glanced down at the control board. "This thing has enough fuel for one hyperspace jump. If the fleet hasn't moved, I think we could make it there."
"Copy Spectre One," Hera answered. "Sending coordinates for the jump now. We'll rendezvous there."
As Kanan fiddled with the nav computer, the refugee leader brought their ship around to avoid a floating chunk of wreckage. When he did, the view out the window shifted. Ezra's eyes widened. The ship they had come from was almost completely gone. It was nothing but a mass of chain explosions. Their escape had been a narrow one.
"Navigation complete," Kanan announced. "We'll see you there." He waited until the Ghost zipped out of view in a burst of light and then powered up their own hyperdrive. As the stars turned into long streaks that rapidly gave way to a swirl of cloudy blue, Ezra felt like a huge weight dropped from his shoulders. The feeling was mirrored on the faces of the other passengers.
But with it, the pain set back in. He could feel whatever had been keeping him going start to drain away. He stumbled back to his seat.
Kanan sighed. "We sure are lucky you came," he told the twi'lek leader. "Thanks for the assist, friend."
"Call me Viscar."
"Kanan. ...How did you know where to find us?"
"The last of our group that was supposed to meet with you got chased away by the Xim's Blade before you arrived. They did not have a way to contact you, so came back and reported to us instead. We were too late to save you on Nar Shaddaa, but we knew they usually like to keep their ship in orbit. We borrowed this hauler from a spice smuggler at the spaceport."
"'Borrowed?'"
Viscar grinned. "As long as we return it, it is borrowed, yes?"
"Can't argue with that."
"We are glad to have arrived in time. That boy…" he glanced back at Ezra. "We know of him. We're told he is the one who broadcasted the message of hope. He inspired many of us to stand up against the Empire on our home worlds."
Kanan looked back too, his face tired but filled with pride. Then suddenly his expression changed. He must have known what was coming even before Ezra did. In an abrupt wave of nausea, Ezra retched. When the contents of his stomach were finally emptied, he was surprised to find Kanan kneeling in front of him with a helmet in place. He felt a bit sorry for the smuggler whose helmet it was.
Kanan set the impromptu bucket aside. "Kid, look at me."
Ezra tried, but found it strangely difficult to focus. Everything looked fuzzy. Force, why did his head hurt so much?
Kanan snapped his fingers. "Stay with me Ezra."
He wasn't sure that was an option. Pain was rapidly swallowing him up. He felt his head fall forward onto Kanan's shoulder. He wasn't aware of much else after that.