Chapter 10. Hunted

Plateau City, first day of the Galactic Empire

Canan collapsed against an upstairs bedroom wall of the derelict house they were holed up in. He preferred the height and being able to see trouble coming although they had to avoid gaping holes in the floor. It was also cold, a chill in the air despite the warm summer evening outside. He glanced up to where sunlight was streaming in the window. Even though it was as bright and "cheerful" as it was going to get in here, he felt a lowering sense of threat from the city outside. Mira leaned against him silently and he put his arm around the kid's shoulders. He hoped his distraction had allowed the group to escape. He also hoped that people hadn't been injured. He had to dismiss both thoughts though, as his mind jumped to the next problem now that all hope of getting off-planet with the travellers had been quashed.

He was pretty sure it was an off-day today so far as the spaceport went. He remembered that it had factored into Master Jhesa's plans for continuing their journey. Which meant that the first flights out would be in the morning. And the cl-stormtroopers would be all over it with their holoimages. So he needed to get them out quickly. So he needed to sort something out tonight. And he didn't dare bring the little Twi'lek with him now that they'd lost Hera's cover. He sighed. He didn't really dare leave her alone either, but he couldn't split himself in two. And he'd need to have her in the open as little as possible tomorrow.

"Mira, I'm going to have to go out again for a bit," he said quietly. She looked up at him, but didn't otherwise react, tired and having lost too many people today to argue. "I need to go to the spaceport and try get us passage for the morning. We can't be out more than necessary tomorrow and I don't have credits to buy a flight normally."

She nodded reluctantly and pulled her tablecloth around herself. "Come back soon?" she asked in a small voice as he got up. He looked down to her. "I'll try, but I don't know how long it's going to take to bargain a passage." And if this doesn't work, I'm coming back here for the kid and I'm going to steal one if that's what it takes to get us out of here. She nodded. Canan hesitated a moment longer.

"I will come back for you, Mira, I promise. And I'll be as quick as I can."

"May the Force be with you," she said, pulling up her knees and wrapping her arms around them. He nodded and closed the door behind him, pulling his hood up again before slipping back down the stairs and out through the gaping hole in the ground floor wall into the deserted alley. It already felt warmer than it had inside and he felt a pang of concern about whether he was doing the right thing. There's no other option, he thought with frustration, slipping from the alley to the empty street. He headed south, hoping he could navigate the maze accurately. A street kid was overall less suspicious than "kid travelling away from an army camp" at least.

.

::"Spectre 5, I see Kanan. He's heading for the spaceport, south." said Ezra quietly into his comm. He was crouched on a roof where he had a decent view of the ruined and damaged streets in several directions. His roof was of an occupied house, part of the edge of this particular wound to the city. From here he'd just caught sight of the brown wrap heading in the direction of the spaceport. Hera'd been right about where they'd hide.

Sabine looked up and pushed away from her wall, moving to the corner. She could see him now, and as Ezra leaped overhead she let Kanan get around the corner before following.

::"Kid's not with him?" Zeb asked.

::"No, not sure where he came from. He must – have left her in one of the houses. It's pretty abandoned around here." Ezra took a jump mid-sentence before continuing. He liked residential districts for this, especially the winding ones. They weren't much challenge, but they were good for being able to take a direct line in a hurry.

::"The spaceport's closed. Hey, Spectre 2?" Zeb's voice faded as if looking away from his comm.

::"The Inquisitor's ahead of him, he's here." Hera's voice this time, quiet and controlled. ::"Five and Six, we need you here. We'll try lure him to the scrapyard on the west side of the spaceport."

::"We're on our way". Sabine looked up and then drew out her knife and swiftly shredded her robes at the front to free up her legs. She climbed up the side of the building to join Ezra and they took a short-cut towards the spaceport.

.

The Inquisitor walked patiently down the road to the transport hub. He kept his hood up and face down, but also exuded an air that made people not want to get too close or pay him conspicuous attention. He could feel his prey was close, her fear a pin-prick of chaos in the flow of the Force. He turned off the road to the spaceport and moved towards the chainlink fence cordoning off the approach to the scrapyard.

Hera, who was in the scrapyard with Zeb watching the walker, was mulling over how best to attract the Inquisitor, (preferably without having to use Ezra's dangerous Jedi lure which seemed to attract everything at the moment), saw her problem solved. While this was helpful in one way, it also meant that they weren't prepared for phase two with the others so far away. They both backed off from the admin buildings, pulling back into the scrapyard to give themselves time.

::"Five and Six, Inquisitor's coming into the scrapyard. Need you here quickly."

::"You…could have waited for us!" Sabine, sounding a bit out of breath.

::"I was, this was his idea." Hera dropped the conversation as she and Zeb broke apart, heading in different directions. She darted up a permanent-standing crane standing idly over a pile of junk for disposal, reminded of a similar moment on Gorse in several years time which she really hoped would still end up happening. Zeb strolled out into plain view and stood waiting for the Inquisitor with his usual studied nonchalance, although his eyes were a lot more wary than usual.

The Inquisitor strolled around the corner and looked at the Lasat in his path.

"Oh, really?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Are you protecting every stray Jedi in the galaxy now?"

Zeb blinked slowly, not quite sure what to make of that. "No, just this one," he replied. He wasn't sure whether the Inquisitor knew about the Twi'lek kid or not, but he wasn't going to risk it.

The Inquisitor rolled his eyes. "Oh, very well. So your friend is up on the crane to knock junk on me while you distract me with your impractical blaster stick, is that the plan?"

"I'll show you impractical," growled Zeb, activating his bo-rifle, which crackled into life. He aimed at the Inquisitor but then pulled off and fired at the exposed underbelly of a long-retired shuttle near the Force-user. As he did so, blaster fire rained down from above, forcing the Inquisitor to turn away from whatever Zeb had loosed beside him to deal with the fire behind. The bolt pierced the rusting fuel tank and blew out. It was large enough to scorch the Inquisitor's robes as he deflected bolts back at Hera, and dodged Zeb's second blast. But the bigger problem was rapidly descending from above as the disturbed junk heap tumbled down to engulf him. Zeb regarded the heap where the Inquisitor had just been, keeping his bo-rifle activated.

"By the way, you got the plan the wrong way 'round," he said with satisfied malice.

As Hera started to descend, a red flash sliced through a speeder, and both parts fell away. The Inquisitor, waist deep in junk, true, but very much alive, glared at Zeb.

"You are starting to irritate me," he observed, slashing through the junk around his legs. Zeb backed up a couple of paces.

"Frell! That didn't happen last time," he muttered, firing off another two blasts in quick succession. The first the Inquisitor managed to deflect, the second hit the junk, but didn't cause enough disturbance to trap him again. Zeb eyed sideways for anything else he could blow up.

Hera scrambled back into the cab and activated the crane. She wasn't entirely sure yet what purpose it might serve, but better to have it already active than not for when she did figure it out. She fired down on the Inquisitor again as he advanced on Zeb. In the distance, she could see two figures running in their direction. She took a few more shots on the Inquisitor, ducking behind struts as he fired them back and relieving pressure on Zeb. She could see he was luring the Inquisitor under another heap. She leaned into the cab and starting working the arm control.

Zeb could see the ponderous swing of the crane coming in, sweeping debris off the top of the pile and raining junk down around them. Hera had aimed away from Zeb, but a crane wasn't exactly a precision weapon. Both he and the Inquisitor had to dodge, he less so enough that he was able to get a couple of shots on the Force-user, one of which scorched his robes.

"Karabast, winged him," he muttered. The Inquisitor deflected a large iron oil tank at him and he had to leap aside, his return fire going wide. Hera leaned out of the cab, her shot skimming the Inquisitor's hand before he nearly placed her second blast back into her face. She ducked back in, having run out of convenient piles to knock. She brought the arm around again, opening its clasper this time as she dropped its claw and taking moments to keep fire on the figure below.

A lightsaber thrummed into life behind him as Ezra and Sabine pelted up behind Zeb, Ezra moving to the front with the lightsaber at the ready.

"'Bout time you showed up," Zeb greeted them.

"We weren't exactly in the neighbourhood," Sabine pointed out, raising her blaster and waiting for a shot to open on the Inquisitor that he wouldn't just throw back. Sustained fire from behind and above, Hera forcing him to turn and deal with her shots rather than just dodge them. He did with alarming rapidity, forcing her to duck down into the cab. Sabine and Zeb took their shots in the moment she had bought them. He turned with impossible speed, dodging Zeb's bolt entirely, and whipping both of Sabine's blasts back towards the trio.

Ezra had never felt that confident with this. He'd get impatient or slip, and as soon as he missed one, everything hit him. So blaster bolts, and on full power, wasn't something he would consider himself ready for. But he had Kanan's lightsaber, Kanan wasn't here, and he would protect his friends. He knew as the Inquisitor's blade met the blasts where they'd go (one aimed at Sabine and the other at Zeb) and the blue blade was already in position. Both shots rebounded in quick succession. One expended itself harmlessly against the remains of a rusted droid, the other skimmed the Inquisitor's robes, to the surprise of everyone present.

"I was going to ignore your existence Padawan's padawan, as you're hardly a Jedi. But given you have proven some small challenge – granted, not in fighting ability - I will do you the courtesy of including you in the small group of Jedi to be cleansed from this planet. Your friends I can take or leave. Their existence makes no mark on the galaxy."

A moment's precognition, height, falling. He leaped back and rolled free as Hera's dropped shuttle smashed into where he had just been standing. He snarled and leaped again, landing atop it. He stayed in a crouch with his saber lit and gave the group on the ground a nasty smile.

"I wonder if the stormtroopers followed my little hint as to where the other ones are," he mused aloud. As Zeb fired at the silhouette, he leaped away. Hera was able to get a few more shots on him as he darted between the piles, but he was swiftly gone. The rest of them had lost him by the time they'd gotten around the shuttle.

"Frell…" growled Zeb lowly. "Do you two know where they're hiding out?"

"Somewhere in the western ruins. Ezra saw him coming out of there, but not where he came from?" Sabine glanced at Ezra, who had lowered the lightsaber by now and nodded.

"I ca-" Speeders approaching. And an air patrol. They had not been subtle in here. It was definitely time to go. They gave up on planning for the moment and dashed for shelter, wending through the junk to the woods at the edge until they could loop back to the road. They couldn't take the roofs at the moment, searchlights were flashing over every so often and the eaves were some shelter until they could get somewhere either out of range or where their presence would no longer be suspicious. Ezra and Sabine tried to remember the layout of the streets they had passed over at speed, but the route back was far more laborious.

It was dusk before they reached the bombed out district.

.

Canan, meanwhile, had been inside the spaceport for five minutes and the place was now on lockdown. While his first reaction was panic, he was swiftly alerted to that the lockdown didn't appear to be an internal security issue, but rather something going on in the neighbouring scrapyard. Although there were no flights in or out today, the spaceport was still the commercial hub of the planet and it was busy and semi-accessible. Deliveries were being made, cargo ships were being loaded up. While no lockdown was a good thing, he had to reason that if they were looking for trouble out there, they weren't looking for him in here and his logic was supported by that the stormtroopers' attention was primarily focussed outwards. So he continued with his plan, and hoped this wouldn't cause too much delay.

Some two hours later, he was starting to get desperate, although at least whatever the lockdown had been about, it was loosening. It was approaching dusk and while he had managed to get himself into the commercial area unnoticed, few ships were interested in passengers and none were interested in ones with no credits. Apparently no-one was hiring self-claimed nearly-sixteen year olds. He leaned back against the bench, working up the energy to see if he'd missed any ships in the row before he started on the next one, when he heard raised voices behind him.

"- half the take, you nerf-brained idiot. And that was a good job."

"I can get it back, Corvan. Oh come on, like you've never taken a really good wager. He kriffin' cheated!"

"Of course he cheated, you dumb bantha dropping, I'm kicking you out not only for gambling the take, but also for being surprised he cheated!"

More complaining. Canan listened half-heartedly, although ready to get in as soon as this was done and see if this meant a position was open to inveigle. If this guy would take on a I can so pass for nearly sixteen. Pity most of the pilots he'd approached didn't seem to agree.

Come on; get on with it and go away, he thought impatiently. He straightened up. Something had happened. There was the sound of a fist meeting flesh and he shuffled over on his bench and then leaned to the side to look between and under two ships. There was a pair of feet, and then the bottom of a pair of feet. The second pair of feet pushed themselves upright and there was a spitting sound, followed by a thud of dust near the first pair. Then the second pair turned and walked off. Right, you're up, he thought, straightening up and checking for stormtroopers before lurking between the ships.

The man was stacking crates, moving them from a loader to his cargo bay. Canan studied him for a few moments from a distance. He saw a human; he had the slight suspicion he might be a Mandalorian, but there were no particular signs he could point to on that. Unremarkable-looking, brown hair and beard, a bent nose and a scar running across it. He wasn't a great deal taller than Canan, although he was much stockier and probably about twice his weight. Could be very weathered thirties, could be well-preserved early fifties. He also looked like he took no drek. By this point, Canan had long since realised that his best chance was to be self-assured. Being in any way nervy or shy was shut down immediately by the no-nonsense pilots and cargo ship captains. In the spirit of this, he walked up to the man.

"Heard you might need labour," he said.

The man didn't pause his movements. "You just offer your labour around, kid?" he asked, picking up another crate and bringing it inside.

"For passage for me and my kid sister off the planet. Preferably In, but I'm negotiable."

"No deal."

"I'm pretty useful."

"What can you do?"

"Uh. Well, I can fly a ship."

"So can I."

"Navigate?"

"Got one. Me."

"Shoot?"

"I'm good at that too."

"There's always manual labour – which you are short of."

The man glanced over at him. He saw a boy of about fourteen with black hair that he had an immediate suspicion was not its original colour and bright green eyes. He looked like he was used to hard work, although his accent was hard to place. Probably Coruscant. Well-spoken Coruscant. He could also see the blaster at the kid's side. Well, not too surprising on this outwater planet.

"How old are you, kid?"

"Nearly sixteen," lied Canan with no hesitation.

"Yeah right. What are you running from?"

"I'm not running from anything, I just want passage off the planet. Sister's sick and I need to get her to Coruscant. We'll planet-hop if we have to though. I'm willing and able to work our way."

The man regarded him another moment and Canan had the uncomfortable feeling he didn't believe a word of it.

"Get started then. Call it a trial run. Not promising anything." The man turned away to get another crate, ignoring Canan. Canan decided to take it as promising at least. It was possible that he'd use him for work now and dump them, but he had to take the chance.

They worked in silence. Canan did his best to keep up with the man, and for the most part he succeeded, although he was finding himself getting physically exhausted by the end of it. Still, if he could just get a full night's sleep between shifts of this sort of work, he'd cope. Dusk was falling as the number of crates still to be moved got small enough that he could see over them at least.

"What do you ship?" he asked at one point, innocently enough.

"Rule one, no questions," replied the man without looking over.

Canan took the hint and they finished in silence. The man spared him a glance once he was done. "Be here at first light. I have the third slot out and I'm taking it. Unloading the cargo and you next planet over."

Canan was just fine with that. He nodded. "We'll be here. See you then." He turned and slipped off between the ships, hoping that he wouldn't be recognised between now and then. That the stormtroopers wouldn't show up with one of their holoimages. But he couldn't control that. And he needed to get back to Mira. It was getting late.

.

While they could take to the roofs in the ruined district with relative impunity, especially as night was falling, it was night in an unfamiliar place and they were trying to find a child that did not want to be found in one of these houses somewhere in the district. They'd worked out the rough area Canan must have found his hiding spot, but that still left numerous buildings to check in varying state of falling apart. They took it methodically, and kept an eye out for stormtrooper movement, but they were all getting more afraid that they were on the wrong track. Or they were too late. The night air remained still and silent as they reconvened on a roof top.

"It's time we broke the rules," said Hera soberly. "We need Kanan's co-operation to save them now. We don't need to say where we're – when we're from, but that there's something…Dark Force hunting them too and we will protect them. If everything comes out, Kanan will have to conceal what he knows until it all makes sense again."

"He was at the spaceport," started Sabine. "Me and Ezra can run back and get him?"

"No need," said Ezra from his watchpost. "I see him."

The Spectres moved to see where he was going. Kanan had come out on the deserted road almost beneath them. He glanced back and then jumped up to grab the wall, finding a safe grip and pulling himself up to drop lightly over the other side of it. The group on the roof could see him in a back alleyway directly below them. As they watched with a certain disbelief, he vanished into a hole in the wall of the house they were perched on. With no expectations that they were that close, none of them had had time to formulate a plan and they had no idea what exactly was in the house below.

.

Canan suddenly had a very bad feeling as he went into the house. It was late and the stairs were dark. He had to move cautiously to avoid rotten planks and creaky treads that grated his alarmed nerves. He hoped Mira was okay. She hadn't left, no-one had seen him leave… The door was ajar. Why was the door ajar? A sense of nightmare unreality sank over him again. He forced himself to make the last few steps, pushing the door open, telling himself that he was getting hysterical for no reason.

Mira had hidden in the wardrobe. He knew that because the door was on the floor and the small body slumped out of it. Her eyes were glassy and she still clutched her tablecloth, which had blackened blaster marks torn through it. They had shot the child where she cowered in the only cover in the room. Canan had just time to take that in when the house erupted. Clones had swarmed out of the main room below and blocked the stairs. More were coming out the landing. He darted into the room and closed the door behind him, giving the body another frantic look. That she was dead and he was too late hit him at about the same moment that the door crashed open and the first shot whined past his face and smashed the window.

It snapped Canan out of his paralysis. The doorway was narrow and numbers were a hindrance to the clones until they sorted themselves out. In few seconds inevitable delay, he whirled and threw himself through the window, where glass was still falling from the blast.

He flew out far further than he should have by ordinary physics. But his main urge was away and he instinctively reached out to the Force for aid. He still landed on broken glass though and felt something warm on his cheek as he scrambled up and bolted out of the alleyway, hearing the clones coming out the front and back doors.

Kanan's entering the house to Kanan's exiting the house via an upstairs window followed by blaster fire was about twenty seconds, all told. It was just long enough for Ezra to be held upside down by his legs by Zeb to see into an upper window, but all that gave him was a view of several stormtroopers storming out of the room and onto the landing. He gestured wildly to Zeb as splintering glass over the other side of the house indicated Kanan's escape. Zeb hauled him up, cursing freely as Hera and Sabine met them.

"Ezra, Sabine, go after him, lead the stormtroopers off. Buy him time. We'll follow on." She glanced to Zeb who looked away with an exhale.

The younger pair assented with quick nods before turning and dashing off, Sabine having knotted her robe up entirely away from her legs. It gave her an odd tail, and her Mandalorian leg armour was entirely visible, but both were very low on her priority list right now.

"Best not to have'em here," he muttered. Hera nodded. She hoped that Mira had managed to hide, that the troopers had thought she was with Kanan. But if they were wrong, there were still some things the adults Spectres wanted to keep their younger crewmates from seeing.

.

Hera dropped onto shattered glass still littering the windowledge. She brushed what she could away with her feet before ducking down to drop into the room on the other side. Bedroom; bed, wardrobe, open door.

"Mira? Lia'ry?" she tried softly, but her eyes were drawn to the wardrobe again. She moved around the bed as Zeb swung himself into the room, avoiding the windowledge entirely.

Hera closed her eyes as she was confronted with the youngling from the transport lying dead in the wardrobe. The stormtroopers had had no more mercy on a seven year old than they had on Master Billaba. She crouched down beside her and gently touched her skin. She had been dead for some time and her body was cool. What blood had escaped from the scorch injuries had congealed.

"Ngh, frellit," a sickened groan from her crewmate as Zeb turned away from the sight in frustration. He hadn't been able to save Lasat children in the genocide of his people and they couldn't save a kid during the destruction of the Jedi either.

Hera fiercely fought herself under control. There was nothing this child could be accused of that warranted this cruelty, the signature cruelty of the new Empire. And that she was a child of her own world, a "little sister", made it harder. It made her furious that Twi'leks always were victims in the galaxy. She felt an extra pang of rage as she realised the body had deliberately been left like that to paralyse Kanan when he returned and give them an advantage.

"I'm sorry, lia'ry," she said softly. "He tried to protect you. So did we. I'm so sorry we couldn't." She closed the glassy brown eyes and covered her with the scorched tablecloth. It was the best they could do. She stood up, her face set. They might not be able to go after the people who had done this, but they would deal with the Inquisitor. As she moved towards the window, the comm. crackled into life.

::"Spectre 5? Still got some stormtroopers, have you picked up Kanan?"

::"Still not got eyes on him, but I know he's nearby. Alleys are too close to each other here, it's like a warren."

::"Gotcha, I think I can lose the last bucketheads in the next few."

::"We're on our way, Spectre 5 – Six, do you need backup?" Hera broke in.

:: "Think I'm good. We lost most of them a while back. These are just the "smart" ones." He sounded dismissive. - ::"Stormtroopers distracted. Coming back to you, Five." The voice sounded out of breath and as Hera and Zeb climbed back onto the roof, they could see the distant orange flare of an explosion right over at the western edge of the city. Zeb scanned over the rest of the city and frowned, pointing out a red dot to Hera.

::"Spectre Five, is that you with the red flare near the edge of the district?"

Silence. Then Sabine's voice again.

::"I see the Inquisitor. He's got Ka- wait, he's got someone." She sounded confused. "But I think he knows where he is."

::"We're on our way." Hera and Zeb were already flying across the rooftops, Hera relieved that this had been a district of conveniently closely-packed houses. Being able to go over the top and take more or less a straight line was helpful.

.

Canan fled into an alleyway and wriggled between two dumpsters, huddled frozen against the wall. He had heard the sounds of the stormtroopers fading behind him, heading off another direction, but he couldn't give them much thought now that they weren't immediately in front of him. Actually, he couldn't quite summon up any thoughts on anything, his mind a shocked blank and his ears still ringing. He drew his knees up and wrapped his arms around them, making himself as small and invisible as possible from the road, and leaned his forehead against his knees as he tried to quietly recover his breath. He felt like he should be crying or something, but even that energy or emotional engagement was currently beyond him. He also didn't dare even that much sound. After a few moments of silence, questions started trickling back in, although he couldn't begin to formulate answers to them.

How did they know? If they followed us, why didn't they just kill us then? Was she seen? Did she go to the window? Why did I leave her behind! He'd had that bad feeling, that chill in the air that he couldn't quite give reason to. He realised that his face was bleeding and gingerly touched it. Nothing seemed to be embedded at least.

It was cold, a chill in the warm evening air. But it was more than just physical cold. That same sense of malevolence he'd felt inside the house, that he felt from the city in general right now. He frowned, lifting his head. Was it? There was something about that sensation that was more than just "cold". Something wrong. Something the Force was warning him about. Something…it had tried to warn him about before-

A sound. Footsteps, one stumbling. He leaned back cautiously, able to see in a thin line between the back of the dumpster and the alley wall. Black… robes? And then the footsteps moved and he saw a flash of brown robes. Jedi robes? He thought he heard a whimper. Then a soft, cruel voice that he didn't trust one bit.

"Come on out, padawan. I have a friend here."

An intake of breath and quick, panicked words. "Don't! It's a tr-" a thud as something metal hit flesh, and the voice subsided in a pained gasp. The voice confirmed what Canan had already assumed, that it was Master Jhesa a's padawan, Ginia Tix. He grimaced, both because he liked her and therefore didn't like her being in this awful situation and also because of all the padawans he would have chosen to be in dire straits with for their fighting ability, Tix … wasn't on the shortlist. But who or what was this?

"It seems your friend doesn't want to come out and play, padawan. Shall we go find him?" Footsteps. One set were sure, the other seemed highly reluctant and were being pulled along, scraping the ground of the alleyway.

There was nowhere to hide in here. He had no idea what was coming after him now. It didn't sound like a clone – a stormtrooper. But he was pretty kriffing sure it wasn't friendly. His options were to cower in here or to try take some control of the situation. He crouched down, seeing the feet on the other side of the dumpster. Styles' blaster was in his hand. He waited for an opportunity and got it as the black-clad legs shunted the brown ones sharply out of his way. Then he fired, hitting the man in the leg – or at least in the robes. From his sudden jump, he suspected that he'd at least winged him.

The dumpster was ripped away, far faster than anyone should have been able to pull it, and flung across the alleyway with a clatter. Canan stared in disbelief as his hiding place was suddenly revealed. And now he could see what was hunting for him.

The Inquisitor stared down at the cowering padawan, his yellow eyes narrowed. The trapped rat has fangs, he thought, the score across his calf burning. He gripped his first victim by her hair, a boney thin hand snarled through it near her skull, and wielded her like a puppet, keeping her off-balance. As she attempted to back up from the other padawan, a vain attempt to protect him, he yanked hard on her hair again, ripping out another clump. She kicked at him and he snorted and shoved her out to arm's length, still gripping her hair, before lifting her easily and shaking the kid like a rat. Tears ran down her face at as she clawed at his arm and face with her tied hands, but couldn't get the reach for his face or the grip on the heavy cloth protecting his arm.

Canan still had no idea what the hell was coming at them, but he recognised Tix. Another padawan was still alive! For now, anyway. He launched himself at the man gripping her from his seated position, aiming to hit him in the stomach with his shoulder. While he thought he heard a grunt, it was like hitting a wall, and it deflected him mostly past the tall man. He stumbled as he landed to the man's right, turning and raising his blaster in a fluid movement. The man was far quicker than it should have been possible for him to be, whipping around and igniting a red lightsaber horizontally in front of his face, the red flash temporarily blinding him. He scrambled back a few paces, blinking rapidly. His night-vision had been ruined by that. Red? A red lightsaber? But that's… Sith lore, there's been no Sith in generations...

Whether that was the case or not, something Dark was standing in front of him and would kill them both if he didn't snap out of it. He jumped back another few paces to give himself space and drew his own lightsaber, igniting it. Blue light joined the red in the alleyway, lighting up the walls. He saw him properly now. Tall, with long black robes and some sort of cowl that stood out at the sides, adding several inches to his already intimidating height. Thin, but he looked fast – and he was strong; Canan had already seen that. His face was white, skin stretched over bone with thin red-purple lips and cold yellow eyes. And a sense around him of palpable menace. Dark Side energy.

"What are you?" he asked warily, keeping his lightsaber ready and watching the man's body for hint of movement. Let the Force guide me… he thought, first trying to push away his fear and then accepting it, trying to release it into the Force as his training had taught him.

"Your training is lacking, Padawan," said the man with a look of amused mockery. "A sad indictment of your Master – but given she was cut down by the clone troopers readily enough, that's probably not surprising."

Canan felt winded, although also angered at the words. "You were there?" he asked with narrowed eyes.

The man idly yanked the girl's head from one side to the other again, in case she was getting any foolish ideas about heroics. "I could say something like that I'll always be there in the shadows waiting for you, but really, it would be pointless since neither of you are getting out of this alleyway. I take it my stormtroopers found the youngling you were ineffectively protecting?"

Canan brought his lightsaber to guard position, still keyed up for the man to move. "Your stormtroopers? You set them on her?" he asked, his voice low and harsh.

"I was busy." Ginia Tix groaned in pain as his fingers tightened against her bleeding scalp again.

Sabine moved as quickly as she dared across the rooftop, trying to get an angle on the Inquisitor's back where she didn't risk hitting either teenager. The narrowness of the alleyway was working against her, sheltering his head and upper body from snipers. Regardless of where exactly the back-up was (and she hoped it was near), if she could just get a shot, she was taking it. Before the Inquisitor killed both of them. She made a quick dart as the dumpster clattered against the opposite wall of the alleyway, the noise covering her footsteps.

Canan made a swift move, dropping and sweeping for the Inquisitor's legs again. He had to redirect at the last moment as the man stepped back sharply and swung his victim into Canan's swing. He only barely managed to pull back, searing the edge of her robes. The man grinned nastily and then drove forward, beating back the padawan with a series of impossibly-swift slashes that the boy had to defend from with both hands on his lightsaber. Tix had no choice but to be dragged along, although she managed to twist with another cry of pain and stick her leg between his. He stumbled, snarled, and as Canan took the moment to stab for his stomach, he swung the girl around wholesale and smacked her into the boy, sending both reeling. Then he took the other lightsaber from his side and ignited it too. Another blue flare. Ginia Tix lifted her head and bared her teeth in pained fury at seeing her tormenter with her blade.

::"Need you here now, Spectres, I can't wait any longer or he's going to kill them." Sabine's voice, tight and controlled.

::"We can see the lights, we're coming up on you now!" Hera's voice, out of breath.

"Now, I was going to kill her and make you watch, boy, mostly for all the trouble your friends gave me. But I've bonded with Padawan Tix here and I think it will be far more instructive to kill you and make her watch instead."

Canan tensed for another strike, but he suddenly felt intense pressure around his throat. He made a panicked lunge, half-recognising the sensation, but only from old stories and theory. A Jedi legend was trying to kill him. The man dodged his attempt with ease and made a lifting motion. Canan found himself kicking for the ground as it vanished from under him, the pressure on his throat rendering him unable to breathe. He clawed at whatever was gripping him, but only felt his own throat.

A purple splatch suddenly coated the man's upper body and face, also spattering Tix. He snarled in surprise, slashing at her to head off any opportunistic attack and clutching harder with the hand manipulating Canan's neck. But in the moment he was temporarily blinded, Sabine had loosed two swift shots. He dodged one by instinct, pulling Tix into its path and scoring her arm, but only diverted a second from his stomach to his leg. He hissed, scraping the paint from his eyes and now on guard again. Canan gurgled and struggled against him in the air to no avail. His movements were getting weaker.

Sabine watched in frustration as she tried to get another shot on the Inquisitor. He was using both Kanan and the red-haired girl as cover. Alarmed as Kanan stopped struggling and went limp in the air, she took another shot, spraying the edge of the Inquisitor's robe and wishing she could use something more deadly than paint. But almost anything she sent had a good chance of being deflected into one of the padawans. Until the rest got here with more options, her best chance was another blinding shot.

The Inquisitor turned to find the third person attacking him, scanning the roof. Another splotch hit him, the slash of his lightsaber breaking the pellet reducing, but not eliminating, the spatter of red over his robes.

"Oh, it's the artist," he hissed. "No explosions for me today, artist? I suppose you don't want your little friends' arms and legs scattered around the alley. So, let me be clear, one more shot and your friend dies. Paint is difficult to get out."

He heard running footsteps and rolled his eyes. "And there's the airless air support. Well, I was planning on killing one of you anyway." He made another clutching gesture, to which his victim didn't react at all, and then flung Canan against the back wall of the alley. He hit the wall and slid down it, landing unmoving on the ground. Tix lunged for her friend's dropped lightsaber which shivered on the ground and then jumped to her hand. Then the Inquisitor's foot came down on it, trapping her fingers long enough for him to grab her hair again and wrench her towards him. She lost her hold, knuckles bleeding from being scraped over the alleyway, and was dragged in front of him.

The Spectres arrived, Hera and Zeb from one direction and Ezra landing on Sabine's roof. Blasters trained on the Inquisitor from both sides, he stood with the downed padawan behind him, a red-haired girl in padawan robes kneeling in front of him with his lightsaber's hilt pointing towards her. The other beam flared out behind him, and it was just as clear that he could still use it to block any attempt at shooting at him. Given they all remembered that it was a double-bladed lightsaber, no-one could move. Kanan wasn't moving either and no-one could tell if he was alive or dead. The red light played over the alleyway, both blue ones extinguished.

The Inquisitor smiled.

AN: I will not deny that this particular Inquisitor is a bit of a showboat! He likes setting up intimidating entrances and exits. Mostly he likes people being afraid of him, hence his focus on Tix once he realised that he'd not been able to "build a relationship" (i.e. hunt and terrorise) Kanan and Mira, thanks to Ezra's interference. Realising that their terror was far more focused on the stormtroopers, to gift the children to them while he taunted his new prey was quite satisfactory.

On the other hand, since the stormtroopers were blatantly incompetent to not kill Dume, his turn again. And a new game to play with Tix.

And yes, I'm afraid little Maarje/Mira was doomed from the start; a promising youngling who never got to become a padawan, much less a Jedi.

TBC: Chapter 11: Caught.

Thanks for the reviews!

rubythrone - Nope! Maybe they should have explained about the Inquisitor earlier, but they were really trying not to totally screw with Kanan's mind. :D

Ithilwen - Kanan did give Ezra his lightsaber, yeah - he used it to make the Inquisitor think he was Kanan back in the forest the night of the Republic's fall, but it's been a bit of a ..oh, what's the word for it...McGuffin! since. He's really not experienced with it yet and is frankly rather nervous of using it, but it's the only thing that might give them an upper hand against an Inquisitor that can deflect anything they throw at him. Kanan J will be making a reappearance...hm...chapter after next, I think ^^

kobamaru - Thanks, glad you're enjoying it! :D