Chapter Three
Knowing that this was the moment of truth, Ezra gathered all his willpower-Force energy, anger, determination-and met Maul's gaze unflinchingly.
"A complete success," he replied in a confident voice.
"Phoenix Squadron accepted my offer and joined me on the mission. They came away with a full supply of proton bombs, as I had promised."
He squared his shoulders and straightened up to his full height.
"I sowed the seeds for future cooperation and an eventual alliance. Just as you asked."
Maul's eyes continued to drill into Ezra's and the young man felt Maul's Force presence pressing against his mind, slithering along his mental shields, searching for a crack. Summoning all of his power, Ezra bolstered his mental defenses and continued to meet Maul's terrible gaze.
"I completed my mission," Ezra continued defiantly.
Maul said nothing and just continued to stare at his apprentice.
Ezra shifted his shoulders uncomfortably, feeling his defenses straining under Maul's scrutiny.
Finally, Maul spoke in a light voice.
"And what of your friends, Ezra? Did you enjoy seeing them again?"
A flash of guilt and shame burst into Ezra's mind and he relived that awful moment of choking Zeb.
The searing, red haze of rage that had crept over him.
The sight of Zeb writhing in mid-air, clutching at his throat.
Rex's anger and Ezra flinging him against the wall without touching him.
Sabine's horror at his actions.
The feeling of her fist against his nose.
Anger. Pain. Blood. Shame.
Suddenly Ezra was back in that moment, sitting in his A-wing's cockpit, his nose aflame with pain and the hot, wet glimmer of tears in his eyes, staring down at Sabine.
"You're right, Sabine. I don't what I'm becoming."
Ezra could see the last sight of Sabine, standing on the landing deck, staring up at him with a mixture of sadness and determination on her face. He felt a stab of sorrow in his heart at the sight…and then that stab became a surge of frigid horror as he saw someone else beside her. Standing next to Sabine, a malicious grin on his demonic face, was Maul.
The Nightbrother's fiery yellow eyes gleamed with triumph and he stared directly up at Ezra and began to laugh. The mocking, evil laughter filled the cockpit and assailed Ezra's very senses and in the back of his mind he wondered how he could hear Maul's voice through a space-tight canopy.
The entire scene fell apart at that moment and the distant sight of Sabine and Chopper Base vanished into darkness and Ezra found himself on his knees, staring a dark, rough stone floor. But the dark laughter remained, a deep chuckling that still filled Ezra's ears.
Blinking away hot tears pricking at his eyes and ignoring the pain in his hands from the rough stone, Ezra braced himself and stood up. He was still in the Dathomir cavern, standing before Maul. His Master had a cruel smirk on his terrifying visage.
"Well done, my apprentice," Maul remarked, amusement saturating his every word.
"Very well done. You almost hid this from me. Almost."
Ezra couldn't say anything. His mind was still reeling from reliving the painful memory. He could feel his face burning with shame and the tears were still lurking at the edges of his eyes. Clenching his fists at his side, Ezra refused to let them fall. He would not humiliate himself any further. Blinking them away, the young man stared defiantly up at his Master.
"It had nothing to do with the mission," he said after finding his voice. His words sounded weak to him and he could hear his voice cracking.
"Indeed," Maul replied, surprising Ezra by agreeing with him.
"Your Commander Sato will not take issue with your angry outburst. Not when we can provide him with more materiel for his war."
Ezra blinked.
"Then-why did you…?" He stopped mid-sentence, not sure what to say.
Maul just smiled and then began to walk to the center of the cavern, where a low stone altar stood. He gave Ezra a small Force-tug to indicate he should follow. Ezra obeyed and once they reached the altar, Maul turned back to face his student.
"You tell me, apprentice."
He began to stalk around Ezra in a wide circle, his loping prowl reminding Ezra more than anything of being hounded by a Loth-wolf.
"You attacked your friend," Maul continued, his voice suddenly coming from everywhere in the vaulted grotto.
"Why?"
Ezra thought about it for a moment, trying recall what had set off his fit of rage against Zeb.
"He…made me angry," Ezra replied slowly.
"And?"
"I felt so angry," Ezra went on, "I couldn't…. control it."
Maul stopped in front of him and looked at him again.
"And?"
"I lost control," Ezra said in sudden realization.
"I was so angry and I lashed out and it was so instinctive…" his voice trailed off in renewed understanding.
"I lashed out with the Force."
At Maul's encouraging nod, Ezra went on.
"I've gotten so used to utilizing my anger to draw on the Force and strike out with it that the lines between feeling anger and using blurred and I attacked the source of my rage without thinking…."
His voice trailed off again.
This time, Maul finished his sentence for him.
"And that is the importance, my young apprentice."
He gestured about the cavern with his long arms.
"The Dark Side is the source of our power. It only comes to us through anger. We need our rage to open the door to that great power."
He pointed a finger at Ezra's chest, jabbing it right at him.
"The rage you feel is becoming a natural part of you, and that is good. You can draw more and more easily on that power. This is the way to becoming strong. But…"
He raised the finger in warning.
"There is a lesson that all who use the Dark Side must understand, a lesson that far too many never heed."
He abruptly loosed a snarl and curled his hand into an arc.
Ezra was jerked off his feet into the air so rapidly he didn't have any time to react. An invisible vise clamped down on his throat, so hard that he gagged. Pain exploded from his throat and he tried to take a deep breath only to find the air wouldn't enter his lungs. He stared at Maul in horror as his Master curled his hand into a fist and choked his apprentice with the Force.
Black spots began to form in Ezra's vision as his body began to suffer from oxygen deprivation. Summoning all the Force energy he could, he threw it at Maul in a concentrated burst. But his Master was ready for him and had already raised his other hand and resisted Ezra's attack, barely budging his stance.
"This is the lesson," Maul said in an exacting tone.
Ezra's lungs burned from the lack of air and he kicked his legs helplessly in the air.
"Pain, hate and anger are the pathways to power. But above all, control is essential."
Maul clenched his fist tighter for a moment and Ezra felt the pressure on his throat tauten so hard he thought his neck would snap. And then it was gone, as suddenly as it had appeared.
Maul's hand opened and Ezra dropped to the floor with a thud. Lying there, he gasped like a Dathomir scalefish out of water. Taking deep, desperate gulps of air, he inhaled precious breaths of oxygen, thinking that he'd never felt anything so sweet before.
A hand darted down to grab his chin and he found himself staring into Maul's horrible face.
"Above all else, control is key. Control your fear, control your anger, save them for when you need them. Otherwise, they will become your masters and you will become their servant."
Maul released him suddenly and Ezra's head dropped back down to the hard stone floor.
"And that, my apprentice, will cost you very dearly. As it did me…"
His voice trailed off and left the cavern completely silent save for Ezra's quietening breaths.
After several long minutes, Ezra managed to roll onto his back and stared up at the ceiling, his chest rising and falling slowly. Maul loomed over him and, to Ezra's surprise, extended a hand, presumably to help him up. Containing his shock, Ezra reached up to take it and Maul hauled his apprentice to his feet. Ezra swayed on his feet, still dizzy from the lack of oxygen. Maul placed a warm hand gently on his back, steadying him until he could stand on his own.
Ezra took a few more painful breaths before looking back up at Maul.
"I…" he trailed off, not sure what to say. At a loss for what to do, he fell back into old habits and dropped to one knee.
"What is your bidding, Master?"