"Kanan? Kanan! Where are you?"
"Hera? What's going on?" Kanan tapped on his helmet as he spoke. The interference, and Hera's heavy breathing, was making her difficult to hear.
"Ezra and Sabine...the stormtroopers...we need you two down here. Zeb...tell Chopper...ready for takeoff."
Zeb nodded to Kanan. "Go. I'll tell Chopper to get the Ghost warmed up."
"C'mon Ezra, at least try to work with me here."
Even without the burden of gravity, manhandling another person through the ventilation system of an abandoned starship was more difficult than Sabine had appreciated.
The adrenaline surge that had been sustaining Ezra had worn off, and the pain of his injured leg had returned. One look at his ashen face through the visor of his helmet confirmed it – he had gone into shock. It was a look that Sabine had seen before. In her time at the Imperial College on Mandalore, when she and her fellow cadets had been required to undergo training designed to test the limits of their physical and mental endurance.
Up ahead, the ventilation tunnel branched off into several outlets. Bracing herself with one hand against the wall of the tunnel, Sabine pushed Ezra past. As she did, her comm suddenly spluttered into life.
"Get back! Get back!"
"Shine your light on-!"
"Some kind of droid...out of here!"
Sabine lay, frozen with dread, as one by one the stormtroopers' comm channels fell silent. Some kind of droid?
Ezra tapped her on the shoulder, and gestured towards the nearest outlet. Sabine nodded. With shaky fingers, Ezra pulled his lightsaber from his belt and began to cut into the outlet cover.
"Sabine? Ezra? Can you hear me?"
"Hera! Are you alright? What's going on?"
Ezra grunted as he twisted to avoid a shower of sparks from the outlet.
"I-I'm not sure. There must have been more droids down here. Look, Kanan and Zeb are on their way to you now. I'm heading back to the ship to get it warmed up."
"I can't get Kanan on my comm."
"Don't worry – I'm sure he'll find you eventually."
After a few more seconds of cutting, the outlet cover drifted away into the room beyond. Despite Sabine's objections, Ezra went first, with his companion keeping a firm grip around his ankles. They shone their flashlights about, taking in their new surroundings.
"Good news – we're back on the map. No more secret tunnels or storage rooms. According to the schematics...we are in what was one of the maintenance tunnels, near the lower gun deck." Sabine gestured with her free hand up the narrow passageway. "If we keep heading back in that direction, we should run across the ship sooner or later."
She looked over to Ezra, who had drifted a short distance away. His legs remained rigid, as he tried to keep his injured leg as straight as possible. Ezra's eyes were closed, and in that moment Sabine was painfully aware of just how small he looked. The sleeves of his pressure suit were slightly too long, and his helmet was perched at an uncomfortable angle on his forehead. A quick kick brought the Mandalorian level with him.
"Hey kid."
There was no answer.
"Ezra? Is the pain that bad? I can tell Sabine to crack open a medpack for when we get back to-" She broke off when Ezra waved her into silence.
"Do you feel that?"
The Padawan had screwed his eyes shut as tightly as he could.
"Ezra?"
"Cold...so cold."
A wave of fear washed over Sabine as she stared at her companion. Acting on instinct, she activated her night vision filters and looked up and down the tunnel.
"So much fear...so much anger."
Sabine ran her hand across the grip of one of her blasters. The silence was unnerving. Steeling herself, she grabbed hold of Ezra's leg with one hand, and, ignoring his sharp intake of breath, set off down the corridor.
In the ghostly green light of the night vision filter, Sabine saw something move in her peripheral vision almost as soon as she had set off. Some kind of shadow, moving swiftly through the darkness behind them. Sabine caught a glimpse of long, spider-like limbs as she whirled around to face it.
"Sabine!"
"I see it! Get behind me!"
With terrifying speed, the shadow folded itself into a spider-like configuration, and came scuttling towards the pair across the ceiling. Sabine drew a blaster with her free hand, but before she could fire a single shot, a bonelike hand shot out of the gloom and ripped it from her grasp. Another hand pushed her back violently against the wall, while two more tore her away from Ezra and held him aloft like a doll, one hand at his ankle, the other at his throat.
Then, slowly, their attacker lowered its face towards them. Sabine twisted and turned in the iron grip of the creature, but stopped when she caught sight of the grisly apparition before her. A bone white mask, made of metal and ceramics, pitted and scarred around the eye sockets as if it had been burned from the inside out. Chunks of green gel, frozen by the cold, clung to the edges. But as the creature brought itself ever closer, Sabine noticed the eyes. The left was some kind of photoreceptor – standard on nearly every droid in the galaxy. However, despite being encased in metal and sealed behind a shield of transparisteel, the right eye was clearly organic.
Ezra made a quiet choking sound in her earpiece. Desperately, Sabine tried to pry off the metal fingers that were pinning her to the wall, but they refused to budge. As if sensing her struggle, the creature – a cyborg? – cocked its head, and relaxed its grip on their throats. The Padawan gave a gasp of relief, but that turned into a cry of horror as the hand that had been at his throat clamped down on Sabine's helmet with brutal force. Sabine gave a yell of fright, and lashed out, her limbs bouncing silently off the metal limbs that imprisoned her.
At first, she could hear nothing besides her and her companion's panicked breathing. Then, quietly at first, but then with an earsplitting whine, something began to grind at the beskar plating of her helmet. Before she could react, a tiny drill bit had emerged on the other side, carrying with it an equally tiny speaker that dangled down in front of her HUD.
"Nod if you can hear me." The voice that echoed across the connection was an eerie combination of organic and synthetic. Sabine nodded, and the cyborg brought its face so close that it was almost touching her helmet.
"If you value your life, I would suggest you listen very carefully to what I am about to tell you." There was a pause, and Sabine heard a gasp of panic from her companion as their captor drilled into his helmet.
"Those troops the Republic sent to kill me were cowards. They soon ran to their shuttle when I revealed myself to them – but they will return, possibly with Jedi." A durasteel claw scraped silently over the markings on Sabine's helmet. "A Mandalorian. Is Maul sending children to do his dirty work for him?"
Without waiting for a reply, the cyborg pulled both humans up, holding them firmly by their helmets. "Do not attempt to resist me. If I remove my hand, the vacuum will claim you in an instant."
"Feel anything?"
"Quiet, Zeb."
"Sorry."
Kanan didn't answer. With Zeb at his back, the Jedi was threading his way through the dark corridors of the Pride of Utapau IX. His eyes remained closed – they would only distract from his use of the Force. In his mind's eye, he visualised the ship, peeling back layers of durasteel plating as he scanned for a familiar speck of starlight.
The bond between a Jedi and his Padawan was at its strongest in the face of adversity, and the one shared by Ezra and Kanan was no different. At such an early stage in his training, Ezra was showing great promise in his ability to react and respond to the Force in an unconscious way, although his other abilities still required work. It had been this skill that had led the rebels to Kanan's place of imprisonment over Mustafar, and the same skill that had warned of the approach of a dark Lord of the Sith. Now, Kanan would return the favour.
Without warning, the Jedi came to a sudden halt. Zeb swore as quietly as he could as he narrowly avoided crashing into him. With his hands outstretched, Kanan traced a seemingly random pattern on the bulkhead in front of him, murmuring quietly to himself as he did. Then, apparently satisfied, he keyed his comm.
"Hera. I can't get either of the kids on the comm...but it looks like there's no need to worry. They're heading back towards you. "
"Are you sure?"
"Positive. They were moving quickly, too. Did Sabine bring her jetpack along when she went out earlier?"
There was a loud tapping sound from somewhere behind her on the hull of the Ghost. Chopper emerged from his charging console with a querying whistle. Hera rose from the pilot's seat, unable to suppress a smile of relief. The tapping continued as Hera walked briskly to the airlock control panel.
"Alright kids, I heard you the first time." As she walked, Hera noticed Sabine's jetpack hanging from a wall bracket. She frowned, but kept walking. Her experienced fingers danced across the keypad. Outer door...sealed. Pressure equalisers...online. Cabin atmosphere...normal.
Something made a buzzing sound in the cockpit.
"Chop, can you get that for me?"Dutifully, the orange astromech rolled over to the controls.
Emergency seals in place...check. Atmosphere pumps to maximum...confirmed. Airlock checklist complete.
Chopper extended an arm, and opened the comm channel.
Open airlock? Y/N
"Hera?"
The Twi'lek looked up sharply. "Sabine?"
Outside, the tapping resumed. Hera's hand hovered over the control panel.
"Hera...whatever you do..."
Open airlock? Y/N
"...please don't open the door."
A/N: This chapter took a while and is a little on the short side, but I think it came out well in the end. I've got to get a move on with the next few chapters however, as I want the rest of this story to partially mirror the events of Season 2 when it comes out. Thanks for reading, and don't be a lurker – tell me what you think!