Chapter Three

"Well that's the last of them" Sabine said, her voice slightly muffled through her helmet.

"Yep," Zeb agreed, "We're all fuelled up."

"Ezra," Rex asked, "Are the bombers ready to fly?"

Ezra looked up from where he was kneeling beside Chopper, the orange astromech droid plugged into the Y-Wing at the far end of the platform.

"All set," he replied, his blue eyes shining with intense focus.

He glanced at his team, "Everyone, get back to the Phantom. I'll pilot the lead Y-Wing and Chopper will remote pilot the others out with us. Once we get out of the planet's atmosphere, we'll make for Chopper Base."

As the others began to move, a loud clanging sound echoed across the platform and metal clamps flipped up off the underside of the platform and snapped onto each of the Y-Wings, locking every one of the battered old starfighters into place.

Ezra gaped open-mouthed and then whirled on Chopper.

"Unlock those bombers!" he shouted irately. "Right now!"

Chopper rocketed over to the platform terminal and plugged into the terminal. After a few moments, the astromech blatted negatively.

"He says that all conveyor controls are locked down," Sabine translated for the others.

Ezra groaned in exasperation, "So unlock them!"

Chopper blatted another remark and Sabine sighed as well.

"He says that all controls have been overridden from the control tower."

She pointed at the monolithic sphere of a station, indicating a wide, curving bank of windows near the top.

Ezra's face grew dark with anger.

"Fine," he said heavily, "Sabine, you and Rex stay here with the Y-Wings. As soon as I get the mag-clamps unlocked, you get the bombers flying. Zeb, you stay with the Phantom in case we need a quick getaway."

He turned to Hondo, "Hondo, you know the most about this station. You come with me and help me find the control center."

The Weequay laughed merrily, "Yes, of course partner. Let's go!"

Ezra's dark expression lightened. He could always count on his friend.

The young man dashed off down the long platform towards the main station, Hondo keeping surprisingly well for such an old man.

Passing through a short tunnel, the Rebel and the Pirate reached a tall bulkhead leading up to the main station. The only way up from the platform was a small, metal ladder. As Hondo moved towards the ladder, Ezra put a hand on the Weequay's shoulder.

"Hold on," Ezra cautioned, "Let me go first."

Standing a few meters before the ladder, he concentrated for a moment, summoning his rage.

Do not let your rage be your chain. Uncontrolled rage will transform you into a raving monster. You must reserve your anger for times when you can profit from it.

Reaching back into his mind, Ezra recalled his most angry memories.

Kanan's weary figure, his face covered by an old tarnish mask, concealing the evidence of Maul's treachery.

Ahsoka, her last act to Force push him out of the Temple, leaving her trapped in the Sith Temple with Vader.

His parents, cringing back in their cell from the Imperial stormtroopers.

Anger burned in his heart like a roiling furnace. Seizing that rage, Ezra tapped into the Force, calling to the great energy that suffused all life, pulling it into him. He felt more alive than he ever had, with sheer raw power running through his veins like electricity. He felt powerful, invincible. He could do anything.

Conveying the power into his legs, supercharging his muscles, Ezra leapt upwards with all his strength. The ground grew far away beneath his feet and he quickly realized that he'd underestimated the power he'd channeled. He shot six meters above the top of the bulkhead, and quickly twisted his body in a forward somersault as Kanan had taught him.

The motion carried him through the air, and as he plummeted back downwards, he came out of the somersault to land in a crouch, sending a pulse of Force power into the deck to cushion his landing. Coming to his feet in a single swift motion, Ezra dashed forward into the main hangar of the station. Rushing at him from the opposite direction came a squad of four white-armored stormtroopers, their black E-11 blaster rifles raised and aimed directly at him.

Quickening his pace, Ezra snatched his lightsaber off his belt and gripping the weapon in a firm two-handed grip, ignited the blade with a snap-hiss. A brilliant, solid beam of emerald energy sprouted from the weapon's hilt, humming with controlled power.

Coming into range, the stormtroopers opened fire rapidly, sending a flurry of crimson blaster bolts at the young Jedi. Sweeping his blade up, Ezra wove the shining emerald sword in a blindingly fast set of parries, settling into the Soresu form of lightsaber combat that Kanan had taught him.

Form III emphasized defense above all else, and in his two years of Jedi training, Ezra had grown quite adept at blaster deflection. The crimson packets of lethal energy bounced off the glowing blade and ricocheted back towards the troopers. Most of the rebounds missed the troopers narrowly, caroming off the deck or sailing up into the rafters the hangar. Spinning his blade, Ezra continued to deflect the oncoming barrages and with a twist of his wrists, sent a pair of scarlet bolts flying right back at the trooper that had fired them. Both shots hit him right in the chest, leaving a black smoking hole in the gleaming white armor and dropping him to the deck with a loud clatter.

The three remaining stormtroopers hesitated for a single moment as their comrade fell, and in that moment Ezra moved. Deflecting another volley, the young Jedi charged ahead and leapt high, crossing the distance between himself and the troopers in a single swift bound. The armored soldiers shifted their aim hastily, but the Jedi moved too fast for them to react in time.

Landing directly in front of one of the troopers, Ezra brought his lightsaber down in an overhand strike that split the soldier in half from crown to thigh. The struck trooper fell to the deck in two pieces and a sickly-sweet smell of charred flesh filled the room. Feeling momentarily nauseated, Ezra threw himself into another leap at the two remaining troopers who were firing continuously.

Coming down beside the leftmost stormtrooper, Ezra swept his saber up in a lateral slash that tore through the man's torso, dropping him to the floor. The last trooper locked his rifle on Ezra and opened fire unceasingly, sending a flurry of scarlet high-energy bolts at him. Twirling his blade one-handed, Ezra swatted the oncoming fire aside, blocking bolts that came at his torso and twisting easily out of the way of those that came close.

Gathering the Force, Ezra thrust out his left hand and made a swiping motion, seizing the trooper's rifle in a mental grip and tearing it from his black-gloved hands with all his strength. The weapon flew out of the man's grip as if grabbed by an invisible hand and flew across the wide hangar, clattering to the deck a dozen meters away.

The trooper took a step back, the Force reverberating with his shock as he raised his hands in a feeble defense. Narrowing his eyes in hatred, Ezra leapt forward and in a single fluid motion thrust his emerald lightsaber through the trooper's chestplate, running him through. The soldier began to go slack and Ezra withdrew his weapon swiftly, letting the stormtrooper drop to the floor with a loud thud.

For a moment, the only sound in the deserted hangar was the thrum of Ezra's lightsaber. Then, a loud clapping sound began to echo from behind the young man. Ezra spun with preternatural speed to face the sound and then relaxed.

Standing at the edge of the hangar was Hondo, the old pirate clapping his hands together, a look of amazement on his leathery features.

"Well done, Ezra my boy!" the Weequay exclaimed.

"I haven't seen Jedi magic like that since the Clone Wars!"

Dousing his lightsaber, Ezra grinned at his friend, embarrassed by his praise.

"Thanks, Hondo," he said warmly.

Then his expression grew serious again, "Come on, we've got to get to the control room."

"Ah yes," Hondo said, his face growing grave, "But I am an old man, Ezra. I cannot keep up with you all the way to the top."

His face grew pensive, "I will stay here in the hangar and slice into the Imperial schematics. Then, I can guide you right to the control tower!"

Ezra considered it and then nodded.

"Great, I'll head up then."

With that, the young Jedi dashed across the hangar, heading for the far set of blast doors.