(A/N)- Oh man you guys, we're coming to a finish here. I hope you're all as excited as I am!
I'll not keep you from it, this is the wind-up before the big pitch and I'm honestly out of things to say until your normal chapter notes. Enjoy!
Warning for a couple panic attack descriptions.
Disclaimer: I really ought to get to bed instead of being up late writing disclaimer skjhaskfjahs.
Closing in
Thrawn's feverish... fixation with the currently unknown whereabouts of Ezra Bridger was beginning to unnerve her.
He was compartmentalizing it well, seeming to show proper prioritization to other important things—the TIE Defender project was proceeding on schedule, for example, though there was unsettling talk their funding might get pulled in favor of other Imperial projects—but whenever he had a spare moment, Pryce could see him sneaking glances at his datapad, excusing himself to his office, or just zoning out with a faraway look that telegraphed his mind was working overtime behind his eyes.
She didn't want to question it. The Grand Admiral was clearly convinced that puzzling out whatever had caused the young Rebel to be noticeably absent from insurgent operations was important, and from experience she knew his instincts were usually right. And she would admit that it was always thrilling to be along for the ride whenever Thrawn made his clever insights and implemented his chessmaster-precise strategies to the utter devastation of their enemies.
Still, she couldn't help wondering if it was becoming a bit too much of a distraction.
Pryce was watching him now, as they sat and listened to a junior officer give his regular summary of the reports from the Interdictor checkpoints. Thrawn had been the one to request them of course, and after much convincing and persuasion the Emperor had seen fit to allow their installation at strategic choke points. The skeptical voices against the proposition had been quickly quieted, and were now well-pleased by the overall reduction of rebel activity in the surrounding sectors around the checkpoints. Pryce kept up with the reports as a matter of pride now, eagerly sitting in on them with the Grand Admiral.
Even now their officer was practically gushing about the capture of three CR90s, presumably en route to Kashyyk, with suspicious contraband cargo that had been traced to a Rebel theft a week ago. The cargo and the ships' passengers and crew had been swiftly taken into custody.
Pryce glanced over at Thrawn, who as usual sat and absorbed the news with nary a flicker of emotion on his face. She snuck a peek at the screen of the datapad he had hovering by his elbow, noticing with a flat purse of her lips that he was re-reading their newest all-sectors bulletin about the latest sighting of the Ghost. Apparently Hera Syndulla and her crew had been causing trouble on Iridonia. A rather long way from their area of normal operations, Pryce knew, but her Chiss ally had yet to figure out the reason for that. Pryce was sure he would conclude it was related somehow to Ezra Bridger's disappearance.
"Though the Instigator has not pulled in any officially confirmed insurgents yet," the officer read from his file, "we continue to intercept smugglers and petty criminals on a regular basis."
"Have there been any disruptions to Imperial supply lines?" Thrawn asked, neutrally. "I seem to recall that was a concern of Governor Tyrill's."
"No sir, no issues other than a small mix-up incident a while back."
Pryce came to sudden full attention with annoyance. "Pardon me, a mix-up?" she repeated.
"Um..." The junior officer looked taken aback and nervous, glancing down at the file in his hands.
Thrawn also stirred a bit, leaning forward slightly in his seat. "Elaborate on that, if you would please," he requested, very politely.
The officer scanned through the notes that had been left for him. "Er... It says that about two and a half weeks ago the checkpoint accidentally detained one of Vader's Inquisitors," he reported.
Pryce's teeth ground inside her head. That was a slight step beyond a mix-up and straying into dangerously incompetent territory. From what little she knew of Vader and the Inquisitorius, they did not like to be inconvenienced.
"Did the Inquisitor identify themselves as such?" she asked sardonically.
The officer was sweating now, quickly clicking through footnotes in his file. "I'm... not sure Ma'am, Captain Rhelick's incident report claims he failed to provide the proper clearance codes so they ordered him to land for questioning and—"
While he was still babbling Pryce shoved back her chair, standing up stiffly and stalking over. "Give me that!" she snapped, snatching the pad from him. She scrolled through the incident report herself with a dour frown. "Oh, they let him kill twenty-six Stormtroopers before it was resolved did they?" she said, voice withering with condescension. "Lieutenant, do I need to explain why calling an incident like this a 'mix-up' looks bad?"
He cowered under her glare.
Pryce turned back towards Thrawn, her irritation fading a bit as she noted the keenly interested light behind his eyes.
"Curious," he mused. "Lord Vader has made no mention of any Inquisitors operating out of the Mid Rim." He motioned for her to bring the report notes to him.
"The Emperor's pet mystic is hardly answerable to you, Grand Admiral," she said, rolling her eyes as she complied.
He ignored her comment, taking the datapad and flipping down to the relevant section. He read for a moment, taking in the report quickly. "Are you familiar with the Exegol system, Governor?" he asked her.
She frowned, brows scrunching. "No. It's not a planet I've heard of," she admitted.
Thrawn's expression mirrored her own. "An unknown destination planet... a belligerent reluctance to provide necessary clearance..." He looked up, fixing their junior officer with a stare. "Is Captain Rhelick quite certain that it was an Inquisitor he cleared through?"
The officer fidgeted, coughing lightly into his fist and clearing his throat. "There's... a note from Dockmaster Harran... I think he mentions he carried a red lightsaber?" he offered timidly.
Thrawn dropped his eyes back down to the datapad, scanning the text.
Pryce saw him stiffen.
He jabbed the datapad back towards her. "Look at this, Governor."
Intrigued and slightly apprehensive, she leaned in, looking over his shoulder at the passage he was pointing out.
"A Zabraki male, age indeterminate, red-skinned with tattoos, entered the office brandishing a red lightsaber," the notes read.
Her eyes widened at the next part.
"...accompanied by a teenage human boy wearing an orange jacket."
Thrawn let her pull the datapad back out of his hands, indignantly. "They had Ezra Bridger?!" she snarled, outrage bubbling up inside her. She stared down at the words on the screen. She couldn't believe it. "They had him and they cleared him through?!"
"In fairness, Governor," Thrawn said, tone still placid and showing nothing in reaction to the news aside from a satisfied gleam in his red eyes, "there was no way for them to positively identify him given this undetailed description and their limited knowledge of Bridger's appearance."
Pryce simmered down. She read back a ways, something else stirring her thoughts. "And the Zabrak mentioned..."
Thrawn nodded, already ahead of her. "Matches the description of the individual Kanan Jarrus was witnessed openly dueling on Iridonia," he finished.
Pryce felt the familiar thrill of chasing after the Grand Admiral's quick mind creeping up on her. Both of them were ignoring the junior officer now, Pryce seating herself back down, a slow smirk spreading across her face.
"So," she concluded. "We have the identity of Bridger's... I presume kidnapper?" she checked with Thrawn.
"That is the most likely conclusion," he agreed.
"But it's not an Inquisitor?" she pressed, trying to see if she had it right.
A small headshake. "They should have readily given the proper clearance codes, if they were truly an Imperial Inquisitor." He shifted forward in his seat, pressing a button on his desk and bringing up a holomap of the galaxy. "The only thing left to decipher, then, is where they have taken Bridger."
Pryce set down the datapad with the report, leaning her arms eagerly on the desk. "You're dismissed Lieutenant," she said, waving off the junior officer. "Oh," she amended, her spine straightening. "Put out an alert to all Imperial outposts in the Mid Rim and beyond to be on the lookout for the Ghost, or our Zabrak friend. I want to know the minute someone spots them."
He saluted sharply. "At once, Governor."
He exited, leaving the room quiet save for the soft buzz of the holoprojector. The blue light reflected off the contours of Thrawn's face, reflecting in his eyes as Pryce watched him study the map and shivered with anticipation.
-SWR-
Ezra dropped his hand, panting heavily, a thin sheen of sweat coating his face.
He wasn't sure how long he'd been trying for this time—at some point he was pretty sure he'd slipped into some kind of trance, deep in the Force, feeling out every tiny crack and crevass of the surrounding rock—but from the ache in his hips it had been... a while.
Time to take another break, he decided.
Ezra sat down, his joints stiff as his legs curled up underneath him. He grabbed up his canteen, shaking the last few sips of water into his mouth. The liquid tickled down his throat, easing the itch there from his exertion.
He swallowed, wiping his mouth and looking back up towards the ceiling. There was no visible progress to be seen—not yet—but Ezra's probing with the Force had not been unproductive.
For starters, he had learned that the antechamber's ceiling, instead of being completely solid rock as he'd thought, was rivered through with cracks and fissures, places where water had trickled in and frozen and then melted again, eating away at the rock slowly over time. He wasn't sure how useful the knowledge was to him yet.
He still couldn't see the—What had the Jedi Master in his vision called it? The shatterpoint?—supposed weak spot he was looking for. He wasn't sure if it was because he wasn't focusing enough or not attuned enough or maybe just not skilled enough in the Force to find it.
He exhaled heavily through his teeth.
This was frustrating.
Strangely, he didn't feel very tired. He was certain he hadn't slept in the interim between rousing from his Force Vision and now, but his body must have registered the long stretches of immersion in the Force as restful enough to count.
Ezra sighed. Back to work then.
He set aside his canteen and stood slowly, closing his eyes, reaching out with a hand and with the wellspring of the Force.
His concentration melded against the rock again, slipping into all the little tiny openings he'd found before, following them down to their endpoints.
Okay, first step, he thought. What was the smallest, easiest thing he could do now?
He traced his mental fingers through the wall, feeling around. This deeply connected to it, he had to marvel at how fragile the rock felt. Like there was pressure building up in it, weight leaning heavily on one side in particular. He followed the slope of it downwards, thought tendrils poking around.
They came up against an obstruction; a large boulder wedged in tight between two slabs of rock. Ezra poked at it from several angles.
It's big, he deduced, feeling it out with his mind. Maybe too big. He focused. Smaller. Need to think smaller.
He narrowed his concentration, sensing out the rocks and gravel and snow around the obstruction. He picked a tiny, fingernail-sized pebble and nudged it out of place.
It could have been his imagination, but his mind heard a slight tinkling sound as it dislodged.
Okay, next.
He found another small piece of gravel. Pushed on it. Moved it forward.
Then another.
He slowly cleared the cracks around the rock, feeling its edges take more concrete form.
-SWR-
After another hour Ezra emerged again, his mind feeling... stretched. Like he'd overstrained something. He panted slowly for several breaths, smearing a sleeve across his forehead.
Poisonous negative thoughts were starting to nip at his ears. This was useless, they said, he was too weak, he'd never be able to do it.
Ezra shook his head.
Shut up. I'm not listening to you, he thought back at them.
He inhaled deeply.
Try again, the Force urged.
So he did.
He found his way through the wall so easily now, coming up against the boulder, feeling like he could sense vague wafts of air moving in the cracks around it. He studied for a moment. The connection at the top edge seemed a little thinner.
He considered his next step.
Maybe if I push on it a little...
He imagined it like laying his palms flat against the surface, applying pressure.
Slowly. A little more now... A little more...
Was it shifting?
His eyes pinched tighter. He pushed just a little harder. Just a little bit—
Something dislodged.
Ezra gasped, his eyes snapping open as the air suddenly filled with rending and crashing, pieces of ceiling crumpling off and dropping towards him.
He pulled away from the walls, flinging his hands up, stopping the debris before it clipped his head. Dust and snow still peppered his hair, silting off his shoulders and slowing, drifting down to the floor.
Ezra stayed wound tight for several seconds.
When it looked like the debris had stopped falling, he lowered his arms, dropping the rocks and ice pieces so that they clattered harmlessly on the floor.
He let out his breath, his head jerking up towards the ceiling, straining through the dust to see.
A small shot of excited adrenaline thrilled through him, as he saw that his efforts had opened up a fissure in the wall, set high up, almost at the ceiling, above and just to the left of the top of the opening where the dampening barrier buzzed.
Ezra flattened his mouth, studying the opening.
It was small. Very narrow. Almost like...
Like an air vent.
He held in a chuckle.
Well, he certainly knew how to navigate those.
He took a last glance around the cell, stepping back a pace. With a couple running steps he leapt, the Force aiding his spring.
He cleared the necessary height easily, his hands catching on the edge of the fissure, but the rock seemed to crumble in his fingers even as they tightened and Ezra scrambled for a few tense seconds, trying to find a solid hold.
He thrust his arm into the crack of the fissure, bracing. His toes slid loosely against the icy wall as he sought purchase.
He slipped, losing his grip for a terrifying second, his feet kicking and dangling. Gritting his teeth, Ezra tightened the muscles of his stomach, swung his legs towards the wall and pushed off, using the momentum to shove himself further into the fissure.
The light dimmed as his head jabbed into the hole. Ezra shoved his shoulder against the rock, using the leverage to reach forward, grab a handhold, and pull.
He dragged his torso across the lip of the opening.
The relief in his body at the ease of tension resounded through him.
Ezra let out a soft gasp, relaxing slightly. Now that he wasn't immediately going to drop back down to the ground, he could focus on the way ahead.
He squinted. It was hard to see through the dark. Though he could smell fresher air up ahead, there wasn't an exit he could immediately see.
He couldn't keep hanging half out the hole, however, so he steeled himself and reached with both hands for new grip on the walls, sliding himself further in.
Immediately in front of him he was forced to duck down, flatten himself as small as he could to avoid the top of the fissure bulging in.
Ezra grunted softly as he contorted to fit the narrow opening. Rock scraped against his skin and clothes, gravel trickling into his collar. The walls of rock squashed him in-between them, making twinges of claustrophobia crawl up his back. Ezra bit his lip, holding in a squeal as he fumbled blindly, his feet working in tandem with his hands to propel him deeper.
This is why I don't do this anymore, he thought, straining to pull through a particularly small bit.
Well, this and because the last time he'd been in an air vent it had been Imperial and he'd been caught and unceremoniously pulled out of it by Stormtroopers.
That had not been a fun day.
Ezra shook his head, trying to rattle those thoughts out of his mind. Focus. Kanan always emphasized he needed to focus. He crawled slowly through the narrow gap, the walls around him feeling heavy and crushing though they were barely touching him. Inch by inch, he gained ground.
Ezra paused a moment, catching his breath. It had only been a minute at most but it already seemed like ages. He needed to move quicker.
He pushed with his feet and then had a moment of panic when his body didn't move forward.
He shoved again, his arms tensing, tightening as he tried to pry himself loose.
He didn't pull free.
Ezra hissed, straining his head to look down, twisting, his lungs starting to pinch.
No no no no, he thought. I can't be stuck, not like this!
His legs scraped the floor as he tried to angle himself, the roof of the fissure digging in hard to the small of his back. His hips wouldn't budge and in his scrabbling his right arm had gotten wedged. Cold pinpricks were starting to bristle at his neck. Anxiety pulled at him. He didn't—
Break the problem down, repeated in his thoughts.
Ezra gave a shuddering exhale.
Okay. Okay okay. Don't panic. I can do this. I can do this, he recited in his head, willing himself to calm back down. He concentrated only on his breathing and heartbeat for a few moments, until they had slowed back down enough for him to think.
First step, free his arm.
He shifted his torso to the left, gaining just enough space to slide his arm out of the jam. He pulled free. He breathed out in relief, curling his hand close.
Next step.
He tugged forward with his arms, but he was still stuck. Puzzling out the reason, he reached down, maneuvering his hand down towards his waist. His belt buckle felt like it was caught on something.
With a straining press of his fingers, he managed to get it loose, unhook it from being jammed against the floor.
All right. Legs now.
He brought his knee in tight, shoving with his toe, and with a swell of relief inside his head felt himself move again.
Bit by bit, he crawled his way through the fissure again. One hand reach forward, then the other, push with his legs, repeat.
The crack seemed to be getting just a little wider around him. Ezra looked up, blinking through the dirt in his eyes. Was that light filtering through?
There were some loose rocks in his way. Ezra crouched, putting his hands flat on one and pushing it.
It fell loose, out into open air, and Ezra almost knocked his chin on the rock as he fell after it, sliding down the slope, spilling out the other side.
He dropped a dizzying second, keeping his wits enough to twist around so he wouldn't land on his face.
Thud!
He hit the floor.
For several moments, he just stared up at the ceiling and breathed.
The knowledge began tingling around his head, slowly filling him with a light, weightless feeling. Ezra gave a short laugh through his panting breaths.
He was out.
He... he was out.
He was pinched and aching and dirt was smudged all across his face and clothes, the bacta bandages were dry and peeling off at the edges, but he'd done it.
Ezra sat up and marveled, looking at the other side of the fissure he'd opened. It looked so much shorter from this end.
He shook his head. He couldn't stay to be proud of himself; his stomach was already tickling with the beginnings of nausea from the soiled red kyber cystals. Ezra's eyes pinched at them as he shifted his legs and pushed up to his feet. He wished he had the time to fix them. He hated the thought of them left there, screaming out in pain.
The sound of them was pressing on the sides of his head, and he pinched his hands over his temples a few moments, trying to concentrate.
He glanced over, his eyes narrowing into a glare.
Well, there was one thing he could take care of.
He grabbed up one of the rocks that had fallen out before him, gripped it tightly in his hands.
He walked over to the barrier generator, raised the boulder over his head, and smashed it down on the device.
It took two bashing clubs before a satisfying fizzle and crack sounded within it, the metal surface denting and buckling sharply, inside circuitry breaking. Across the way the dampening barrier sputtered and petered out, disappearing softly with a final buzz.
Ezra gave the device one more solid hit for good measure, then tossed the rock off to the side.
Exhaling, he turned around and trotted out the exit tunnel.
-SWR-
"Got a ping!" Sabine announced.
Kanan and Hera alerted, both of them leaning forward towards Sabine's station in the co-pilot seat.
Sabine lifted the the signal tracker. "Tracking beacon just went active," she relayed. "Maul's just dropped out of hyperspace."
Hera nodded, lekku bobbing as she called back towards the hallway. "All right, Chopper, plug into the navicomputer and adjust our course," she ordered.
Chopper whomped in affirmation, scooting in next to Sabine and connecting up with the Ghost, quickly importing the data from Sabine's receiver and relaying it to the navicomputer.
Kanan sighed quietly in relief behind them. Finally they could stop circling around the backalleys of hyperspace. His gripped fists loosened by his sides.
We're coming, Ezra, he thought towards their unseen destination.
Meanwhile, Hera was frowning as she looked over the coordinates. "Chopper are you sure?" she asked him. "That's our heading?"
Chopper blorted a rather indignant response.
"What is it?' Sabine asked, curiously.
Hera brought the data up on her screen, scrolling through it. "Well, the coordinates are good—we're not gonna bump into another star cluster or anything like that—I've just..." She shook her head, her lekku swinging. "...never heard of there being any planets out here. I thought this whole area was empty space."
Kanan shifted his balance a little. "What sector is it in?" he asked.
Hera peeked down at her information, pressing a couple buttons. "Says here it's the.. 7G sector?" she said, her voice unsure and conveying doubt.
Kanan stiffened, his body freezing up.
Hera couldn't fail to notice, swiveling in her chair to face him. "Love?" she called. "What is it?"
Kanan's mind was racing. It made a terrible sort of perfect sense. Where better to hide a Force Sensitive from unfriendly eyes than a planet that was—at least last time he'd checked—strong in the Force itself? Conflicting anger and elation warred inside him. Realizing Hera and Sabine were still waiting on an explanation, he pulled the words out.
"There is a planet there," he said. "Somewhere very sacred to the Jedi."
Hera's eyes widened slightly. "You mean...?" she started.
Kanan nodded.
"Ilum," he confirmed. He breathed out reverently as he said the words. "Ezra's on Ilum."
-SWR-
Maul swore loudly as soon as his ship registered the unknown beacon activating. His mind spun in feverish, frantic whirlwinds.
They must have tagged his ship on Iridonia. It was the only explanation.
Gnashing his teeth, Maul brought the gauntlet in lower, taking care to avoid Imperial detection on his way down. The last thing he needed was them on his trail too.
Crawling anxiety wormed through his heart. They couldn't stay there. He had to get Ezra offworld immediately.
Tatooine. Yes, it was time to return to Tatooine. Ezra might not have been defeated enough for his liking, but he had no choice now.
And besides, he thought idly, at the back of his mind, he had the collar now if the boy stepped out of line, or tried to run.
The thought soothed him a little, as he brought the ship in for a landing, setting it down in its previous hiding place just along the ridge.
Maul loosed his hands from the steering yoke, hissing as he fiddled with the joint of his right metal knee—damaged by the lucky bolt in the firefight—before getting up stiffly, snatching his rucksack off the floor even before the ship was finished with its landing sequence, stalking over and punching the button to lower the ramp just as its struts were settling into the snow.
He thundered down the ramp and onto the field, metal feet kicking up powder with every angry step.
First he turned swiftly underneath his ship, searching the hull for the tracker. He gave a growl when he found it, reaching up and yanking it from the metal plates, crushing it in his hand before hurling it violently away.
It smashed on the rocks, giving a last pitiful spark as the pieces dropped.
Maul whipped around and headed down.
Infernal Jedi! he thought furiously. If you interfere again I swear I will slay you like the dog you are!
This crew of Ezra's was eternally troublesome. He regretted not being able to kill them on the Death Watch station when he'd had the chance.
I will do it myself this time, he vowed. I won't leave any doubt, any room for escape.
So absorbed was he in his thoughts, as he tramped in through the cavern entrance and across the chamber to the right hand tunnel, that he didn't notice his apprentice until the boy crashed right into him.
Maul grunted, stumbling back, shock taking root inside him and bolting down his feet as he gaped in disbelief and rising anger.
-SWR-
Ezra froze. His chest locked up. Something in his head screamed at him to move, but he was paralyzed, his throat and head seizing up with abject fear. Panic strangled him, keeping him in place, even as he watched Maul's wide eyes narrow and shift from bewilderment to irritation to outright fury, giving a terrible howl and reaching for him, seizing his left ear in a horrible claw-like grip.
"How did you get out?!" he screamed, yanking, wrenching Ezra to the side.
The boy cried out weakly as he was flung to the ground onto his side, the panic tightening his chest until he couldn't breathe, an awful urge to prostrate himself and beg pounding on his consciousness.
I'm sorry, I'm sorry, don't hurt me, I won't do it again, please, I'm sorry! were the thoughts pressing on his head, trembling on the tip of his tongue. Ezra held them back, swallowing them down in defiance even as he flinched and curled up, raising his hand to ward off the inevitable next blow.
But Maul didn't hit him.
Ezra opened his eyes and risked looking up. Maul was still looming above him with clenched fists, trembling in every limb with anger, but holding back, keeping himself contained.
The man's teeth flashed as he gave a huffing snarl.
"It doesn't matter," he spat, acidly. "Get up," he ordered. "We're leaving."
Several conflicting emotions hit Ezra all at once. Relief and sharper panic and confusion and apprehension collided inside his head. "What?" he asked, truly befuddled.
"Do not make me repeat myself, Ezra," Maul snarled, his eyes flashing dangerously. "Your punishment for this will be severe enough. Get up," he repeated.
Ezra cowered into his shoulders as he quickly scrambled to his feet. He hung back, though, terrified, not wanting to take a step while Maul was still standing there in front of him.
Though he looked suddenly disinterested in Ezra now, craning and keening his head towards the walls and something unseen, eyes darting madly.
"We can no longer stay here," he was muttering. "They're coming."
Ezra felt his chest crushing under a vice of terror. "The Empire?" he squeaked, voice choked and fearful.
Focusing in on him briefly, Maul growled a vicious, "No."
That bewildered Ezra for a few moments, freezing him with more confusion. "Then—" he started to say. Then his eyes widened as he made the realization.
Maul had only ever been this profoundly angry and paranoid when ranting about Kanan. About his friends.
Hope pulsed inside him, sounding a thundering beat in his heart. "They found me..." he breathed, his face slack with awe, his body giving a thrill.
He could practically hear Maul cursing inside his head as the Zabrak turned a firm glare on him.
"A mistake I will not make again," he said, his hand lashing out and seizing Ezra's left wrist, gripping painfully, pinching tight. "We. Are. Leaving," he emphasized, turning on his metal heel, yanking on Ezra's arm.
Ezra shook out of his hope-filled stupor long enough to realize what was at stake if he let Maul move him now. Impulsively his free hand lunged for his saber on Maul's belt, grabbing it as his back was turned, turning it on and swiping it in a long gash across Maul's shoulders.
Maul yawped and released him, whirling around, a mixture of betrayal and outrage on his face.
His hands were shaking on his saber hilt, but Ezra firmly planted his feet and lifted the emerald blade.
"I'm not going," he said, determination projecting from his voice.
The ex-Sith in front of him was like a wavering thunderstorm, vibrating with hot emotion. His hands gripped into tight fists.
"This..." He struggled for words for a moment. "...tantrum will only serve to bring you more pain, Ezra." He took a threatening step forward. "I will drag you to that gauntlet, unconscious, if I have to!" he snarled. "And you will be sorry once you wake up!" he finished. "The Empire's torments will be nothing," he added harshly will a firm promise, "to what I will do to you."
Ezra swallowed nervously, but kept his blade between them, silently warding Maul off. His feet widened into a ready stance.
"You think you're so different from your Master?" he challenged. "Prove it." He narrowed his eyes into a glare. "Prove you have a fraction of the honor and sense of fair play he didn't!"
Maul's head reeled back rabidly, eyes flaring wide, lips curling back past his teeth, the anger Ezra could sense off him intensifying into a wild blaze.
The rucksack on his shoulder was dropped heavily.
He shook his head, reaching down for his lightsaber.
"Oh ho ho, you will regret this," he promised darkly, casually unlatching it, hand returning to his side as he ignited both blades.
Ezra felt reams of fear coursing through him. This Maul wasn't an illusion, a figment of his mind that couldn't actually cause him harm unless he let it. This Maul was real, very real, and would hurt him.
He unstuck his tongue. He breathed in carefully, willing away the anxious alarms flaring in his head. Remembering his words to his mirror-self down in his cell, he readied for combat.
One way or another, this was ending today.
There is no emotion, there is peace.
Centering himself with the mantra, he tightened his grip on his saber and faced the monster in his nightmares.
(A/N)- EYYYYYY IT'S YOUR CHAPTER NOTES!
1. Good grief this chapter was a pain in the butt to write. Thrawn's introspection and thought process gave me the hardest time until I finally gave up and switched to Pryce's POV for that section. I just... could not make his logic flow coherently for some reason. But it came together really nicely once I was inside Pryce's head instead so... *shrug* What ya gonna do?
2. It is a delicate balance indeed to try and make Thrawn's deductions intelligent without straying into magic bullshit territory. Hence, he does not somehow immediately magically deduce which planet Ezra is on just because Maul was spotted in a (relatively) nearby area.
3. Even though I'm keeping Exegol and it definitely exists and is a secret Inquisitorious base in my headcanon, it's still something very classified and held from everyone except the Emperor himself and a few trusted confidants. So when Thrawn and Pryce read about Maul's cover story it just made sense for them to be all like, "What's an Exegol? Sounds fake."
4. And thus Ezra's first use of Shatterpoint is rather clumsy and mostly on accident, lol. I definitely didn't want to make it easy for him to get out of the cell, so yeah he's basically been at this a couple... days? What even is hyperspace travel times?
5. The air vent incident Ezra mentions is a callback to Chapter Seven of "Splinters".
6. Just because Ezra got a morale boost from his vision quest and learned a shiny new Force trick doesn't mean he's not still terrified of Maul. And I don't blame him.
Climactic chapters are incoming! I am ready to take this thrill ride with you my dear readers. I love each and everyone one of you and sincerely thank you for sticking with me this far.