Star Wars: Rebels: Hearts of Warriors

Disclaimer: Star Wars Rebels and all Star Wars characters and Lore are not my property, as they are all owned by Lucasfilm and the Walt Disney Company.

A/N: I'll admit, this chapter turned out to be longer than I initially anticipated, but I doubt any of you will complain. The Second Battle/Evacuation of Yavin draws to a close as familiar faces make their stand, a soldier and a parent. Meanwhile, a certain young couple remains in the spotlight amongst the Mandalorians on Dxun, and have to come to terms with what their not-so-willing visit to the jungle moon will entail for the both of them.

Chapter 4: Separation

A tense moment of silence passed, with Ezra clenching his teeth under narrowed eyes as he stared straight through the visor of the Mandalorian ruler, effortlessly sensing the unamused, condescending scowl hidden on the face of the latter, directed right back at him. It only served to enrage him further as he dropped the supply tout he'd been carrying over his shoulder. After doing the same, Sabine delicately placed a hand on his shoulder, and was startled when he immediately shrugged it off.

"What the hell do you mean six weeks?!" the young man clamored in outrage.

"Ezra, please, I can explain what's happening," the young woman tried persuading him to back down. Their situation amongst her people was already precarious enough. She couldn't help but feel a twinge of fear at what he said to her, next.

"I want to hear it from him! I expect answers right now!" as he shouted with venom, his mounting frustration getting the best of him, Ezra pointed his right index finger squarely on Mand'alor. The latter remained silent as two supercommandos approached on his flanks with blasters drawn. Hearing their footsteps, he addressed both without turning around. Sabine was initially relieved at this, but the feeling was not to last.

"Stand down, I'm more than capable of handling this fool," grinning darkly, bemused at the gall of this Jedi, Mand'alor made his next set of words both clear and deadly in tone. "You know a Verd'gotten is a rite of passage all Mandalorian youth seeking to prove themselves as warriors must complete. Perhaps I was placing too much faith in this child of dar'manda in expecting her to explain the details to you?" the veteran Mandalorian ruler shifted his gaze over to Sabine, as if staring straight through her. She felt uneasy, to say the least, but decided to try and convince Ezra to calm down once again.

"Ezra, this is what I agreed to knowingly," her sharp tone and choice of words instantly snapped his attention back to her, those deep blue eyes she'd come to love wide with a mixture of fear and confusion. She offered him a reassuring smile as she gazed into his eyes with her own hazel orbs. "This is something I was supposed to complete when I was sixteen, but I couldn't. I was running around Lothal and the Outer Rim with Kanan, Hera, and the rest of the crew. It was the year we met, remember?" Her heart felt a bit lighter as she saw his expression visibly soften while she spoke. Yes, of course he could recall those early days.

"Correction, you could've completed it back then, you simply chose not to. I have no use for cowards and liars in my ranks, girl," Mand'alor interrupted, stating his addendum as a matter of fact. Before Sabine could even try to formulate a response, Ezra beat her to it, his fury renewed with a vengeance.

"You're insane if you think I'm just going to sit back and watch you send her out there to die! What the hell kind of game are you playing with us, you kriffing bastard?!" he roared unfiltered, spit flying with every other word. The young man knew he probably should've tried some restraint in the interest of diplomacy, or at least to avoid another lecture from Kanan and Hera, later. Oh well, they'd have to chew him out when the time arrived. Right here and now, his frustration with the Mandalorian leader had gone over the boiling point. However, neither he nor his girlfriend were prepared for the raw fury about to be fired back at them.

"What do you hope to accomplish by calling me out, here, boy? Look around you," he gestured in a semicircle with an open hand and arm raised between them, "We're surrounded by some of my finest, the greatest of the greatest, champions of champions. They are men and women who've proven themselves to easily be ten times the warriors you and she are. Do you expect me to apologize? Will that make you feel better?! Shall I simply rescind my entire purpose for bringing the both of you here? Or does screaming make you feel better?! Then by all means, SCREAM YOUR KARKING HEAD OFF FOR ALL I CARE!"

Blinded by rage and perhaps even some fear, Ezra drew and ignited his new lightsaber in the blink of an eye, charging forward with the purple blade held high in both hands as Sabine shrieked after him to no avail. Completely unfazed as the young Jedi closed in on him while roaring in defiance, Mand'alor effortlessly sidestepped the blade as it was brought down on him, balling and tightening his right hand into a fist as he did so. It was all done in the blink of an eye, but it ended with his clenched, gloved fist slamming into Ezra's stomach, the impact so vicious it knocked the wind out of the Rebel and brought him to his knees with a choked gasp. His lightsaber disengaged and fell from his slackened grip as he nearly crumbled into a useless mess at Mand'alor's feet. Dropping her helmet, Sabine rushed to his side and secured him in a protective hold, staring up pleadingly as her ruler towered over them both.

"Mand'alor, your exaltedness, please, I apologize for his outburst and his actions. Neither will be repeated, I'll see to it personally."

It took another tense moment of silence, but after he crossed his arms over his chestplate while staring down the young couple at his feet, the man in question relented. "Very well, I've granted you a second chance, and I will afford him the same. I leave you both to settle in by yourselves. Just know that if this is to be repeated, I'll need far more to justify his life, and yours."

With that said, Mand'alor turned and departed with the duo behind him in tow, not even bothering to spare his not-so-willing guests another glance. Once they recollected themselves, both Ezra and Sabine retrieved their belongings and headed inside, easily finding the spare room they'd been provided. It was spartan as described like any other Mandalorian quarters. When the silence became too unbearable, the young Jedi decided he would be the one to break it.

"You should've told me this 'rite of passage' you agreed to was going to take you away for six weeks," he grumbled under his breath, but loud enough for her to hear. He felt his heart grow heavy as he heard her sigh shakily. He turned to move over to her, but once he was facing her, a hand on his shoulder stopped him. His frustrated mood evaporated the moment his eyes locked onto her own. They looked forlorn, and almost… pleading.

"I was going to, but I know I should've told you sooner. I'm sorry, Ezra. I knew you'd object if you knew, and I just wasn't sure how to break it to you. You have every right to be mad at me, and- wha?!"

She was startled when, in an instant, he moved out of her hand and wrapped her in a warm, snug embrace. She felt her cheeks flush at his abruptness, but returned the hug a moment later. Her eyes were wide, unsure why he reacted this way, but she wasn't going to question it or push him away. She had to resist a shudder as she felt his warm breath fan the nape of her neck, his head resting gently on her shoulder.

"I know this is a difficult time for you, Sabine, probably much more so than me. I'm not angry with you. I just want you to know you can trust me with anything that's bothering you. You know that, right?" as his soft-spoken, reassuring whisper met her ears, her expression relaxed and her lips curled into a warm smile, though her blush remained. Even when he was beside himself, she was still his first priority. His selflessness was just one of the many things she loved about him. She tightened her hold on him in response, letting him know even before she replied his thoughtfulness was not unappreciated.

"I do, Ezra. Of course I know that. I just wasn't thinking clearly."

"You, not thinking clearly? I never would've noticed," he retorted with a cheesy grin, to which she chuckled.

"Stop trying so hard, you already have me," she whispered softly, pulling back just enough to press her lips to his, and he reciprocated gladly. They would enjoy this fleeting time together before the next morning light, savoring what was most precious to them, each other. That night, as they slept with the light of the stars and neighboring moons shining through the thin window, Ezra had another nightmare. It was the same one from before.

Meanwhile, back at Mand'alor's stronghold in Kadelbe, Shysa had been called to the comm room deeper in the complex. A holocall had been received, requiring he answer it personally. The Chieftain of Clan Shysa had recognized the face of the slightly older woman the moment he'd opened the channel she was waiting on.

"Bo-Katan, esteemed leader of the Nite Owls. It's rather early for your weekly report."

"Shysa? Where is Mand'alor? My forces engaged a pirate convoy that our sensors picked up. I figured he'd like to be informed before the scheduled report."

It had been twenty years since the Siege of Mandalore, when she and her fellow defectors from Death Watch, the Nite Owls, joined forces with the True Mandalorians and the Old Republic to vanquish Death Watch once and for all, ending the reign of Maul's corrupt servitors. As was the case with all former members of Death Watch, Mand'alor the Vindicator had decreed the Nite Owls were to be allowed to depart their homeworld, but were forbidden from ever returning. Holdouts who wouldn't submit willingly were hunted down and eliminated, and in the end, Bo-Katan decided it was more worthwhile to agree to his terms. She'd grown weary of all the fighting and death, a state someone of Mandalorian blood did not achieve easily by any means at all. Truthfully, she suspected Mand'alor would've agreed with the sentiment, but he hid it well. While not particularly fond of his strict rules and guidelines for warriors like herself, she was grateful that he agreed to grant her a command of her own. An entire sector on the border with Hutt space answered to her command, and she relished the chance for a skirmish with criminal and pirate scum unfortunate or stupid enough to enter the territory. It wasn't all-out war, and it kept both her and the warriors under her command sharp.

"His exaltedness is currently off-world on an excursion to our border post on Dxun, with two of the Rebellion along with him. I believe a former lieutenant of yours is the mother of one of the duo. Her name is Ursa Wren, correct?" Shysa smirked to himself under his helmet as he saw the woman's eyes go wide in realization.

"Ursa? She was always one of my finest warriors. I'd heard her daughter had been appointed liaison to the Rebellion. Why would Mand'alor take the young Wren and another Rebel to the compound on Dxun?" the veteran female warrior inquired, figuring she had enough time to hear the story if Shysa was willing.

"I suppose I can spare a few minutes to get you up to speed," Mand'alor's first lieutenant sighed, but his tone suggested fatigue rather than irritation. Every time he was left in command at the capital, he was reminded being at the top took a lot out of someone. It only made him respect his only superior officer even more.

As this had been taking place, back inside the main hangar at the Great Temple on Yavin 4, the last Rebel barricade quickly found itself overrun by the superior numbers and firepower of their Imperial foes. Rushing a 501st trooper in his sights, Captain Rex knocked the soldier to the floor before finishing him off with a barrage of blaster bolts through the visor. The former commanding officer in the 501st tried his best to ignore the familiar blue markings on their white armor, the identifying symbol that reminded him of better days. Noticing sharp movement out of the corner of his eye, the old captain narrowly dodged the force pike thrust at the back of his head. He quickly took aim with both of his blasters at his attacker, and found a blaster of Mandalorian design facing him in return.

"You're a bold one, Imperial, but we're not finished yet!" Rex sharply boasted in defiance.

"Surrender now, defector, and I'll take you in alive," Volker offered sincerely. He wasn't surprised when the old clone scoffed, seemingly insulted by the request.

"One thing about me that's never changed, Imperial; I'd sooner die than be a prisoner!"

Careful to avoid stray blaster bolts, the two combatants focused almost squarely on one another as they resumed their fight. Rex quickly found his advantage in firepower was offset by the agile reflexes of his opponent. Ducking, dodging, and rolling wasn't affording either of them a clear advantage. Returning fire with his own blaster, Volker closed in a second time, forcing Rex to cease fire and avoid the pike aimed straight at his chest. A single shot blasted Rex's left pistol out of his hand, but the old clone successfully landed two hits on the Imperial's chestplate, stunning the latter long enough to knock him to the floor. Rex wasted no time kicking the blaster out of his enemy's grip, and took aim at the man's head with his own remaining pistol. Adrenaline and rigid focus coursing through him, the veteran of the Old Republic was almost blind to the chaos around him. The Rebel line had been completely overrun at this point.

Rex pulled the trigger the moment Volker met his fierce gaze, but the Imperial was quick even while down. The old clone had to jump to avoid the black boot that threatened to trip him, but it was a distraction. It was over in the blink of an eye as Volker pulled himself up just enough to thrust his force pike straight into the Rebel captain's torso. Had Rex not been wearing his MK-2 chestplate, he would've easily been run through. Instead, the armor was punctured and rendered damaged beyond repair, but the wound its wearer sustained was mitigated significantly. Still, the entire head of the pike was now embedded in his flesh. Rex heaved out a strained gasp as blood flew from his mouth in the process. As he hit the cold and hard hangar floor, the last of his comrades were finished off.

Volker pressed a button further down the pike's shaft, and sent a strong pulse of electrical energy through the head and into the wounded, pinned body of his foe. Rex's howl of pain was silenced as he was driven into unconsciousness. One of the Wingguard moved over with blaster rifle trained on the Rebel, but halted the moment Volker raised his left hand in objection.

"That won't be necessary," lowering his gaze back to Rex, he continued after wrenching the pike free, "This proud one may envision a so-called 'glorious demise on the battlefield' for himself, but that day is not today," returning his focus to the trooper in his unit who had stepped forward, the Imperial field officer continued, "Take him into custody. Drop him off with a medic and catch up with us, we're pressing forward to the upper levels," as he spoke, he stood and moved to retrieve his discarded blaster. He heard the jet trooper reply from over his shoulder.

"Yes sir!"

Raising his free arm, Commander Rastan motioned for three of his squads to fan out and advance into the hangar. "Secure the area. Shoot to kill all hostiles on sight. Fourth squad, you're with me. Fifth squad, lock down this position. Let's move!" the Stormtrooper officer ordered, and the 501st troopers obeyed without delay.

"Yes sir!"

"On it, sir!"

At the same time, just a few hundred feet further inside the hangar, the central turbolifts had largely fallen silent. In fact, when the doors to the last one still in operation flew open on the level, it was less than ten seconds before General Dodonna would order power cut to the lifts altogether. With Dawn clutched close to her, Hera stepped out of the lift with the two droids from the medical ward in tow. Eyes darting frantically, the Twi'lek quickly ascertained their location. The main hangar bay was mostly deserted at this point, the florescent lights illuminating the stone pillars and walls in conjunction with the duracrete floor. For the most part, only a few empty crates and fuel cell barrels remained scattered about. However, the faint yet telltale sound of multiple footsteps growing louder in rapid succession was not a welcome one. With the evacuation all but complete, they likely weren't friendlies approaching.

"General! Over here!"

Rounding the lifts towards the urgent and hushed voice that had called her, Hera and the droids found a group of four surviving Rebels, two technicians and two soldiers, all wounded and exhausted, clearly worse off than her. She wasted no time organizing them, urging everyone to follow her, waving them along with her free hand.

"Everyone, with me! Hurry!" she ordered in an equally quick but low tone. The entrance to the tunnel that ran to the supply port where the Ghost awaited them wasn't far from their current position. Little Dawn looked up at her mother with wide, curious eyes as the group took off running. They quickly came to a halt as a personnel transport tram rounded a corner of one of the pillars, screeching to a halt in front of the group. Hera's surprise was mitigated when she recognized the two in front in the driver's car. "Chopper! AP-5!"

The troublesome but loyal astromech, operating the steering mechanism with his two retractable limbs, whistled and beeped in binary reply, while the former Imperial droid quickly urged everyone aboard.

"I do believe it's past time we got back to the ship!"

"Seconded!" Hera retorted instantly, "Everyone, get on!"

"Blast them!"

One of the 501st squads arrived not a moment too soon, their sergeant instantly ordering their blasters raised and fired. Two of the Rebels and the logistics droid had almost no time to react before they were shot dead. Hera dove into the seat of a passenger car, shielding Dawn protectively beneath her. The baby released another round of high-pitched crying while the surviving technician and soldier returned fire. The Twi'lek general tugged the medical droid over to help shield her baby as she drew her own blaster to join the firefight.

"Get on!" she shrieked to the two still on the floor, just before the technician was shot through the skull. Desperately trying to use an empty fuel cell for cover, the soldier drew and hurled a thermal detonator at the squad, who reacted instantly.

"Hit the deck!" the sergeant ordered. The soldier didn't get to watch the blast that erupted a moment later; another blaster bolt courtesy of Volker Nostromo sent his lifeless body to the floor. The squad of troopers were able to evade the blast from the thermal detonator in time, the explosion temporarily drowning out Dawn's piercing cry of fear and confusion.

"Punch it!" Hera ordered Chopper, who immediately did as instructed. The tram sped off away from the chaos. Volker motioned for his jet troopers to stand down, but two of the 501st troopers who returned to their feet took aim and resumed firing.

"Cease fire! I said cease fire! There's a child on that tram!" Volker frantically swatted away the barrel of the second trooper's rifle as the first lowered his immediately.

Hera just barely caught this within earshot out of the corner of her eye as the tram rounded another pillar and got out of range. Still, she remained hunched over, clutching her baby to her closely, protectively. Carbon scoring marked the car behind hers, and the sound of blaster bolts shooting above her head, vaporizing through her headrest, remained on repeat, ringing in her ears. The 501st were truly deadly shots. She heaved a heavy sigh of relief the moment the tram cleared the hangar, entering the sublevel tunnel that would take them to the Ghost. Another set of blast doors sealed the way in behind them.

"Attention all units! Lord Vader's shuttle has just touched down! I repeat, Lord Vader has arrived on the battlefield!" the urgent, disciplined voice of Commander Rastan sounded over the comm units of Volker and every trooper present.

"Major General Jan Dodonna, decorated war hero of the Old Republic, betrayer to the Empire. We meet face to face at last. You certainly live up to your reputation. Your defenses and evacuation plan were both formidable," carefully assessing their surroundings as he spoke, Volker knew the end of the battle was within his grasp. He refused to relax his discerning scowl. Delicate matters such as dealing with a cornered adversary required precision.

"Lieutenant Nostromo? I'd heard you were still leading the Wingguard. Your praise is well-received, but clearly your tactics won out in the end," Dodonna replied in a like-manner, almost bemused at facing an Imperial who placed value in civility and honor. It was a rare sight these days.

"It's 'captain', now, actually. Also, I thank you, general, but I can't take full credit. Commander Rastan and his men did their part alongside myself and my own as well," Volker was explanative and respectful, his guard still up, but his manner of conduct still one of courtesy and respect. Dodonna nodded, his expression remaining a near-perfect mirror of the younger officer's

"So, you've made it to the heart of our base. Will you try and take my staff and myself alive, or will we fight to the death?"

"This battle is over, general. Surrender now, and I will personally guarantee no harm will come to what remains of your forces on this moon. If you order their cooperation, I'll see to it they're treated fairly as prisoners of war," Volker Nostromo refused to take his piercing gaze off the older military veteran, making every effort to convey seriousness and sincerity together.

It took several more tense moments of uncertain silence, but Dodonna finally acquiesced. "I have your word, on your honor? If your reputation is half as warranted as I've heard, you dare not defy a promise," the aging general continued to match the fierce gaze of his adversary, focusing for any sign of deception. There were none.

"I would sooner perish than be a coward who used lies to achieve his goals. That much I can also promise you, general."

With a deep sigh and a heavy heart, Major General Jan Dodonna conceded the battle was done. He took comfort in knowing at least the Princess and General Syndulla had made it out. "Very well, I agree to your terms, Captain Nostromo. I'll oversee the surrender personally," as the former Imperial finished, he arched a brow as he noticed the expression of his foe falter, but only for a moment.

"I'm afraid I can't allow that. I said I could personally guarantee the safety of your troops, but whether or not you survive is out of my hands. I'll certainly request my superior be merciful, at least."

"And who is this superior?" Dodonna inquired warily.

Volker Nostromo need not reply, as it was less than a moment later when a foreboding, deep mechanical breathing echoed into the command room from the hallway outside.

All the while, back on the "Smuggler's Moon", Nar Shaddaa, Kanan had patiently waited in silence within the confines of a meeting room behind Noda's storefront. The blind Jedi Knight and the underworld entrepreneur were just finishing up their business, including the details of further munitions and foodstuffs shipments, when an employee of the Quarren had interrupted with an urgent, encrypted message only Noda could decipher. Quickly excusing himself, Noda left Kanan by himself and had been absent for a good twenty minutes. The veteran survivor of the Jedi Order was just beginning to sense something was amiss once more when the door flew open, revealing Noda had returned.

"Ah, good! Shall we get back to business, or… what's wrong?" Kanan asked, his professional voice shifting to one of wariness upon sensing the distressed mood that had taken hold in his host. Clearing his throat, and with sympathetic eyes, Noda elaborated what he had just learned.

~"I regret to inform you, Master Jedi, that we've lost contact with the Rebel base. We got a partial message indicating that Imperial forces had landed near their main installation before the transmission was cut. I have my comm team trying to reestablish a connection, but we've had no luck so far,"~ after he finished, the Quarren took a moment to let Kanan absorb the info, his expression noticeably shifting back and forth between collected and worry. It was clear he was trying to keep a level head in spite of the dire news, and it wasn't easy. Even after spending these last few years as a Jedi Knight, news regarding those close to him, especially now that he was a father, always seemed to challenge his discipline. Noda appeared to notice this, and he spoke up once again, ~"I understand you have family at the base, yes? I assure you, we'll be working into the night to try and hail the Rebellion over all secured channels we've been granted access to by your superiors."~

"I appreciate your honesty and your efforts, Mr. Purungo, but perhaps it would be best if I took my leave, now," Kanan hastily rose to his feet, fully prepared to walk out the door and return to the shuttle without another word. Noda, however, wasn't convinced such action would be prudent. Kanan allowed the Quarren to step closer to him, placing a reassuring, tentacled hand on his shoulder in protest.

~"You know as well as I that it's a good two days of hyperspace travel back to the base. By the time you arrived, the place would no doubt be a smoking ruin, and you'd rush headlong into an empty battlefield, or worse, an Imperial trap. Your wife is one of the base's command staff if I recall correctly?"~ Noda paused as Kanan nodded in affirmation, ~"Then surely she and her peers thought up an evacuation plan? She wouldn't be granted such a position of authority if she were incompetent, am I right?"~

Kanan had to stifle a chuckle at the question. "Hera is many things, but incompetent sure isn't one of them."

~"Ah! Then the chances of survival for her and anyone else there you care about are greater than they may seem! You certainly sound like you have faith in your wife. Use that confidence, and don't despair just yet, Master Jedi."~ At the words of his host, Kanan raised his head, as if his sightless and hidden eyes were peering into the black orbs of the alien in front of him. He allowed himself a weak smile and a light chuckle as he words resonated in his mind.

"I never thought I'd see the day when a Separatist would lecture a Jedi, and be right in doing so," the Rebel mused aloud, to which Noda laughed in good nature.

~"Times change, sometimes rather quickly. Come, no reason for us to remain here while we wait for an update."~

It wasn't too long afterwards when the morning sun rose over Onderon and Dxun, and as difficult as she knew their parting words would be, Sabine still woke Ezra from his slumber. She knew he'd blow his stack if she snuck out without alerting him, and neither of them nor the Rebellion could afford to test Mand'alor's patience any further. The singular ruler of the Mandalorian people had gotten himself up to see her off. Bereft of her jetpack and instead sporting a blue-grey military backpack of survival gear loaned to her in its place, the young Mandalorian walked alongside her boyfriend as Mand'alor and an armed escort brought them to the main gates, nothing but a dirt path and dense jungle waiting for her on the outside just beyond. The couple turned to face one another, with the moment of truth now upon them. They could both practically feel the eyes of the veteran leader burning through the both of them.

"I'll be here when you return, Sabine, no matter what any of these folks say or do to me," he smiled meekly, his eyes and tone sad, yet resigned. Her expression reflected his own as she brought her free hand to cup his cheek, her thumb delicately tracing the familiar scars he obtained years prior.

"Once this is out of the way, nothing will keep me from returning. That's a promise," her own voice conveyed her solemn mood, but also her resolute determination. They both knew well enough by now neither of them would break so easily.

"Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, Sabine," he told her sincerely as he too cupped her face in his hand, not taking his deep blue eyes off her amber ones.

"Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, Ezra," she replied in a like tone, her eyes equally locked on his own. For the moment at least, she didn't give a damn who saw or what they thought.

One of the escort lifted his helmet to spit on the ground in disgust, while another scoffed and looked off to the side. Mand'alor, however, remained still and silent, focusing intently on the faces and eyes of the young couple directly in front of him. And so, after donning her helmet once more, Sabine Wren departed into the foreboding wilderness of Dxun, leaving a proud yet frustrated and worried Ezra Bridger behind. Their trials as a couple in the face of adversity had only just begun.

A/N: Mando'a Translation:

Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum: "I love you"

All right, everyone, I believe this marks the halfway point for this story. The next chapter will feature the aftermath of the battle, and what Mand'alor has in store for Ezra while Sabine is absent. After all, he will have his own trial to complete. ;) As usual, I expect the next chapter to be ready in about another 2 weeks at the latest.

Once again, a well-deserved thanks to Wikked Grin for his assistance in proofreading these chapters, and each and every one of you for reading, favoring, following, and reviewing. What I've said before remains the same, it's your support and response that makes this all worthwhile!