Kanan was a tough master sometimes. Zeb was heartless. Sabine had a sadistic streak. Chopper was never allowed near a blaster again.
Ezra could have taken the worst from all of them, and training still would have been easy compared to this.
"Dismantle the droids, he said! He didn't even give me a proper lightsaber!" Dodging a crimson bolt, Ezra dove beneath the flying droid and nearly collided with another. The electroblade Darth Vader had given him sizzled with low electricity. It was charged enough to block blaster bolts, but slicing through walls was apparently frowned upon in Imperial society … hence the droids were still gleefully functioning while Ezra stumbled.
He hated it. The Imperial uniform, the scarlet tinge to the electroblade, the dark side that flung him back into his prison every time he made it three feet outside. Worst of all was the increasing fear, wondering if Kanan was even alive. They must have used force-inhibitors on the Jedi; the only glimpses Ezra had were the occasional holograms Darth Vader left behind, but he could never feel his master.
Everything else he was keenly aware of.
Darkness. The futility of his own powers as he tried to remember hope. Fear that enslaved an entire ship, escalating whenever Darth Vader entered a room. Hunger for something more than himself; something that would purge the galaxy of the Empire forever.
Ezra growled and force-slammed a droid into the opposite wall. At least he didn't have to worry about ordinary hunger. Nutrient paste had a way of numbing the appetite. Anything flavorful that was brought in was obviously a trap; even slavers knew how to reward 'good behavior'.
"I am so done with you!" Ezra yowled, kicking the third droid aside. The force exploded around him like one of Sabine's masterpieces. Broken shards of metal from seven droids scattered the room. Shaken, Ezra switched off the electroblade.
Instantly he was thrown across the room.
"Don't let down your guard."
Dragging himself out of a pile of crumpled metal, Ezra scowled at the Sith lord. "One of these days I'll sense your grand entrance."
"Your skills are impressive," Vader congratulated. "Soon the Emperor will personally assess your development."
"Where is Kanan?" Ezra demanded.
"That is not your concern."
"You promised he wouldn't be hurt!" Ezra smacked the electroblade over his knee, irritated when it wouldn't snap. "Why am I doing this?"
"Let your frustration guide you. It gives you focus."
"I don't need any focus!" Ezra flung the electroblade at Vader's feet. "I want my real master back."
Darth Vader impassively reactivated the blade and spun it into Ezra's hands. "In a time of war, loss is to be expected."
"We made a deal! My cooperation, Kanan stays alive!" The overhead lights shivered and sparked.
"I am altering the deal. Pray I don't alter it any further."
"I don't answer to you!" The lights blinked out and the door panel cracked. Satisfaction purred in Ezra's chest, and for a moment he felt like he could crush the Empire.
"Yes, release your anger," Vader urged. "It will make you stronger."
Failure. The word resounded deep within, shivering from Ezra's legs to his reeling head. Devastated, he lowered his hands and surveyed the damage around him. He felt cold.
Kanan, I didn't mean….
"I'm not a Sith," Ezra whispered.
Callously Vader nudged the remains of a training droid. "But you are no longer a Jedi."
"Course is set, tracking signature is steady." Hera analyzed the screen, kneading the tension in her shoulders and neck. "They're orbiting Eriadu."
"If the message was even sent from the ship holding Kanan, and if they haven't transferred – wait, did you say Eriadu?" Sabine joined her at the console, fingering her helmet agitatedly. Hera raised one eyebrow at the dented side.
"How hard did you throw that, and is there any damage I need to know about?"
"I didn't – ugh, it's just – how do we keep slipping up like this?" Sabine slouched in the other chair, spinning carelessly. "We should have known it was a trap. We should have stayed on Lothal; done what we're best at; and never taken part in Fulcrum's scheming."
"Is that what you think?" Hera folded her arms loosely, curling to ease the kink in her back. "Kanan and I chose this because it was right; because we knew there were more lives at stake than our own."
"Like Ezra's?"
Hera spun to face the console, trying to think past her sweaty palms, the hammering in her chest, the crawling fear that it's over, they broke him, we'll never find him again.
"Hera, I'm sorry," Sabine said hurriedly. "It's just – I never wanted this to happen again. Not after what happened to Kanan. Flying into Eriadu? We may as well be handing ourselves over to the Empire. What if we're wrong about this?"
"I don't know, Sabine!"
Wearily Hera rested her forehead in her palm. Kanan had all the backup plans. Ezra gave them hope. Without them, she was aloof and wandering, no better off than before she joined the rebellion.
"I don't know," she repeated softer. "We're on our own."
"If it's a matter of voting, I say it's worth the risk," Zeb said as he approached behind them.
"No question there," Sabine mumbled.
"Enough arguing, then," Hera said. "From all of us. We do what it takes to get this done."
"Sabacc earnings go to the one who smashes the most buckets." Zeb feigned cheerfulness.
Sabine was too distracted to take the bait, but Hera smiled.
There was an unusual bond between master and padawan. Anakin Skywalker had once shared that tether - risking his life and sometimes even the war - all for the sake of a child. It was nearly impossible to break; all the more wounding if a master or apprentice willingly left the other behind. It soothed and heartened, strengthened and restored. With a weak bond an apprentice might know if his or her master was still alive. With a fortified bond, the two were invincible.
If a fortified bond was shattered, the scars would char and linger, never healing with time. Anakin Skywalker had severed his ties with Obi-wan Kenobi. The scars remained.
Darth Vader motioned for the guards to leave before entering Kanan's cell. The Jedi had withstood the electric pulses and mind probe during the Inquisitor's interrogation, but Agent Kallus preferred grimmer tactics. Four weeks of contusions and open sores, cut off from the force and all communication, weakened by deprivation of nutrients and sleep, and still Kanan held on to that stubborn, frail thread that connected him to Ezra.
"I am impressed."
Pain-dulled eyes cracked open and a glazed mind searched for a snarky retort. Admittedly, this one had courage. Ezra had chosen his loyalties well.
But all was in vain.
"You increasingly frustrate my commanders with your lack of cooperation. If your resolve does not fail, I will have no choice but to resort to cruder methods."
"This in't... crude enough?" The Jedi rasped.
"Perhaps your padawan would have more to offer regarding the rebels."
Darth Vader had no intention of breaking the boy so soon – such drastic measures would destroy all of his plans – but the effect was instantaneous. Kanan jolted against the restraints, fear pooling like the sweat matting his hair.
"Don' touch'im!"
"What would the rebels give to spare his life?" Darth Vader slowly circled the table, feeding Kanan hints of Ezra's struggles; pain, despair, loneliness. He let the Jedi translate them for himself. The mind often conjured more terrifying images than a mere hallucination could incur.
"No… don't… he's just a kid..." Kanan tossed his head, gritting his teeth as dread spiked into anguish.
"More to say, have you?" Darth Vader asked, mocking the revered Jedi of old.
Gasping hoarsely, Kanan thunked his head against the restraining table. "Forgive me …" he whispered, then proclaimed louder, "I don't know anything!"
"The name of your ship would be an adequate start," Darth Vader prompted. The implications through the force became visions; a padawan crying out for his master, writhing at the feet of the Emperor, slowly weakening until he was but a shell, robbed of the life associated with one so young.
"Leave him alone!" The sudden fervor was unexpected, as was the wave of dark energy flaring out from Kanan. Just as quickly the Jedi slumped, pathetic as a Loth-kit defending itself against a wolf.
"Interesting." Darth Vader had thought Ezra was more attuned to the dark side of the force. "I sense you are equally prone to anger. Your influence will make your padawan all the more useful to the Empire."
"Ezra's ... nothing… like you," Kanan hissed.
Bold words, yet futile. Ezra Skywalker was well on the path to fulfilling his destiny. "Perhaps it is you who underestimate him."
"Don't touch him," Kanan grated. He twitched and grunted, blood trickling from a split lip.
"Then perhaps there is more you wish to tell me."
The light died in Kanan's eyes and he bowed his head. Faintly Darth Vader heard the whisper of defeat.
"I'm sorry, kid."
"Are you quite finished yet?" Kallus stalked up to the droid, irked as lines of names scrolled down the computer, each as useless and ordinary as the last. "What does it take to find one rebel's parents?"
He had obtained a blood sample for Anakin Skywalker from the old records of the Jedi Temple. The difficulty was convincing a stupid droid that a generational match could be found on Lothal. Thus far, four thousand citizens had been examined meticulously.
"At this rate we'll find the Bridgers by Empire Day," Kallus grumbled into his thermojug. He leaned forward, hand tipping ever so slightly. At that moment his foot caught on a wire and he stumbled, stim-caf sloshing onto the droid's scanner. Cursing, Kallus scrubbed at the dark stain on his uniform, oblivious as the screen jolted, reset itself, and settled on a random humanoid.
"Of all the –"
A sudden bleep on the computer indicated that a match had been found. Kallus' gaze latched onto the screen and a smile curled at the edges of his mouth.
"So, you're no ordinary boy after all."
The son of Skywalker. How ironic that they had changed his name. With a common surname like 'Bridger', who would have suspected the boy's real parentage?
"Luke Skywalker, eh?" A strange name to be found on Lothal. His guardians were wise to conceal him.
And now Kallus had more important news to deliver to the Emperor. A pity Vader would never hear of it until Kallus' promotion.
"Erase the records," Kallus instructed the droid, "And dispose of the blood sample. Wipe your memory if you have to: Lord Vader will hear nothing of this."
He copied the necessary files and hurried to his desk, anxious to complete the report. In his haste, Kallus failed to notice the planet indicated in the left corner. Tatooine spun lazily before the screen blackened.
A.N. Since there seems to be some confusion here, let me clarify that last scene:
Ezra Bridger is NOT Luke Skywalker. Kallus had a "dim bulb" moment. He was too eager to prove that Anakin Skywalker had had a child. The computer was looking for a blood match to Anakin Skywalker, and when the coffee messed it up, the search jumped from Lothal to Tatooine . Kallus assumed "Luke Skywalker" had been born on Lothal because he was too caught up in the coffee caper to realize the computer had switched planets, hence he figured Ezra was actually Luke with a different name. :/ Silly Kallus.
To rebels-lover: No, I wasn't calling a vote last chapter to force readers to decide who lives or dies in this story. ;) It was just a casual poll to find out which character people like best.
Overall Vote? Ezra Bridger.
Thank you to Kat Bridger, anonymus, Hermit Crab, Angela, rebels-lover, Team FinnickandAnnie, Valkyrie-Sythe, A M3mb3r123, CosaBella, heartbreakerninja, Force sensitive, PrincessCadence2012, BuruPlays2, UnfathomableFandoms, SWrebels, and Guest for sending feedback on the last chapter!
Reviews = happiness, and a full happiness-meter = faster updates! :D