Chapter 3


POINT OF VIEW: EZRA BRIDGER

It had been a little over a day, and we had only been provided one ration. My body burned with hunger.

Sabine and I hadn't spoken a word to each other since we were thrown back in here again. The reason, I didn't know.

Maybe she was upset that I had led us into this mess. Upset that we didn't do things her way.

Maybe she's upset that I crashed the Phantom. Maybe she's upset that I gave out our information without any hesitation to spare her life.

Maybe she's thinking about the dream, wondering how afraid of me she should really be.

I was tucked in the corner of the lifeless cell, stripped down to my shirt and jumpsuit. My armor was confiscated. Sabine was in a similar state, only in her black shirt and grey cargo pants.

She was fiddling with a thread that had spiraled off the hem of her shirt, weaving around her fingers over and over again. Her gaze was soft and hollow. Hopeless.

I knew the feeling.

I didn't dare break the silence. The last thing I wanted was to deviate her train of thought just so she could entertain my questions.

Like, why Mortimer was so furious at Sabine's father. Whatever vendetta he has with General Wren must run deep.

Sabine never talked about her family much or talked about what happened to her clan before joining the Ghost crew. I don't blame her, discussing the loss the empire has cost us personally doesn't do anyone any good. It's better to focus on the people we still have. The people who are still alive.

She probably wishes I wasn't alive. Or at least, that it wasn't me that she was stuck with. If it had been Kanan, or Zeb, or Hera, the mission would have been over by now. They should've returned within hours of leaving, and the new intel would have been intact. Now, the investigation was compromised. Any info we gathered was probably already on the empire's radar and was being encrypted and reformulated to make it useless.

To add to that, Sabine and I were captured by trappers that had intentions to either turn us in to the empire or sell us to some criminal who planned to work us until our death. There's a high likelihood that we could end up separated, and the rebellion would never find us.

The rebellion. Were they looking for us?

I didn't entertain my hopeful thought for long, remembering that the rebellion doesn't have the resources to recover members of a small rebel cell. As far that they're concerned, we're goners. Dead. Radio silence for more than three cycles is damning.

My head snapped up when the steel door opened. A gross alien with an upturned, boar-like snout stood in the doorway; the very same that had beaten me with the butt of the blaster. My welt twitched on the back of my head. I didn't particularly like him.

Sabine and I were both escorted out of the room, and lead down the long corridor.

It was so quiet. In a prison like this, I expected outbursts, rebellion, revolts, and shouts of freedom, but the air was thick, and the cells were silent. Any hope that once lived here was extinguished long before Sabine and I came here.

I tensed when Sabine was turned towards a corridor on the left, and I was pushed forward.

"Where is she going?" I snapped. I meant to sound firm, but my voice squeaked with panic. The piggish creature only laughed at my fury.


I was shoved towards the ground in another dimly lit room, my knees hitting the dusty floor with a thump. I uttered a curse and glared up at the guard that escorted me down the halls.

I was in a new room; it looked similar to the large common area, but this room was slightly smaller and held a large, square, glass box.

Where is Sabine?

"One-sided glass," I heard a familiar voice say. He had caught me examining the box. It was quite large and oddly pristine for such a dirty hole in the ground. "Quite an investment for something that has no practical use. Whoever is in there won't be able to see us," Mortimer smirked.

His reason for telling me this sunk in slowly, and painfully. They were going to do something to Sabine. In that box.

"So you figured it out, judging by the look on your face," Mortimer sneered, stepping forward so he was standing inches away from the glass.

"Why am I out here then?" I asked quietly. "Why wouldn't you just take her?"

I noticed I wasn't cuffed. It would theoretically be easy to take him down right here, right now. But we weren't alone in this room, and without my lightsaber, I wouldn't make it out with the number of goons crawling in this place. I looked towards his belt and was surprised to find that the lightsaber was no longer with him.

"I'm not stupid, boy," he spat, catching my stare. "I wouldn't put that thing within arms reach of you. Even so, it's not wise to pull a stunt like that when someone else's life is in your hands."

My blood turned cold at his revelation. Why was her life in my hands?

"Why am I out here? Why do you need me?" I questioned, keeping my tone level to appease the reptile. His scales were an ashy brown, and his eyes were a sickly, pale yellow.

"Because you, my boy," he said in amusement, "get to watch."

My eyes went wide.

What would they do to her in that box? We're they going to kill her? No, they were going to torture her. Make her cry, make her scream.

They would try and break her, and they planned on breaking me by making me watch.

Mortimer had mentioned concubines. For all I know, they planned on doing something vile to Sabine. I tried not to let the image of Sabine's pain linger in my head.

Her pain...while I watched.

I couldn't stop myself from falling to my knees. This couldn't be happening. I couldn't let this happen. I had to stop him, but I was at a loss. I didn't know how.

"Why are you doing this to her?" I demanded to know. "Why?"

"Clan Wren will suffer after all the pain they caused me, so I will ensure the last of the lineage experiences as much hurt as I did."

I tensed up.

A horrible, but possible idea dawned on me. "Take me instead," I pleaded hastily.

He didn't reply.

I sprung up from where I was sitting on the ground. "TAKE ME INSTEAD! I'll give you whatever suffering you need!"

Mortimer spun around and stormed towards me. "Why? What does that do for me? Do you think I just get off at anybody's suffering? The purpose of all of this," He gestured to the glass prison, "will be defeated if my revenge isn't taken out on a member of Clan Wren."

I gulped. How would I convince him to substitute me in?

I had a better idea. "I'm also Clan Wren."

I had thought this would be an easy fix. This monster wanted to take his rage out on a Wren? Then I'd simply become one.

"Ha!" He exclaimed. He poked a hard claw into my chest. "Wrong! You are Ezra Bridger, not Ezra Wren. You are of the Jedi, not of Mandalore. Spare me your lies, and enjoy the show."

He backed up slightly. "Someday you will learn that everything you love will be taken from you," he snarled. "A harsh reality isn't it? That our negotiation and begging can't save the ones we care about. General Wren made sure that was a lesson I never forgot. Now, I will return the favor to his beloved daughter."

I shook my head. "I get that losing people can be hard." I almost felt empathy for the monster standing in front of the sleek glass case. "But this isn't going to bring them back, whoever they are. I understand-"

I was cut off by a claw wrapping tightly around my throat. My vision became gray as I weakly tugged against his unforgiving grip.

"Have you forgotten boy, that I own you? You will not speak to me with such condescension. Do not tell me what you know of pain, because I am not interested in hearing it."

As he finally released me, I gasped, letting the air rush back into my lungs. "I am begging you," I sputtered. "Let me take her place. Whatever you would do to her, double it for me."

His snake eyes shimmered at such an offer. I finally had him listening.

"To make up the difference. Double it for me."

Mortimer snickered. "You know what you're signing yourself up for. Don't say I didn't warn you."

He mulled the thought over a few times before clicking his tongue. "Escort the Mandolorian back to her cell. Take the boy and set him up to take her place."

I heard the guard by the door turn back towards the corridor.

She's safe.


I was thrown into the center of the glass room, the sound of my hands hitting the floor echoing off of every wall.

Outside, the guard had removed my shirt so I was left in only my pants.

I expected to be able to see Mortimer standing outside the box, but I only saw myself, staring back with a pair of wide pair of eyes, filled with fear.

My fear was drowned out by relief, however. Nothing was more relieving than knowing Sabine was safe in the cell down the hall.

Before I could think anymore, my hands were in shackles, the chains drilled firmly into the floor.

I could hear my heart pounding.

I stared at the reflection in front of me, waiting, and dreading, every second that passed.

I noticed that the guard was behind me, holding a long, thin whip-like weapon.

My blood turned to ice.

I began to struggle against the shackled a little, squirming, and fidgeting. It was terrifying to look at my reflection, the guard bringing the whip behind his head in preparation for the first blow. Unable to watch, I shut my eyes, forgetting to breathe.

The first contact was shockingly painful, and my body involuntarily screamed at this new intense pain.

It felt like flames licking my back, tearing the flesh and seeping down through until it reached my bone. It was excruciating.

I didn't have any time to recover before it came down again.

And again.

And again.

The 'agains' became numberless. I had stopped counting, and I started waiting. I tried to think about something else, anything else.

Hera. She was probably so worried, being the last person to hear us before the crash. Knowing her, she was pestering Kanan about sending out as many search parties as possible.

Kanan. Kanan probably wouldn't be sleeping. He would stay awake, contacting as many rebel cells on Tatooine as possible so we could be found.

Was Zeb lonely in a bunk by himself?

I remember being lonely. I spent about 7 years of my life alone. Zeb could handle having his own room for a few days. Hell, he enjoyed that luxury long before I came.

I don't think I've felt this alone in a long time. It's been hard not to, the only other member of my crew unwilling to speak to me.

I wish I knew what was worse. The blood rolling down my back or knowing that we would probably die here.

I almost felt stupid, taking on such a punishment. I could take all of the torture that was intended for Sabine, and die trying. Leaving her in the jaws of the monster.

I felt numb now. I almost wish I was dead, so I wouldn't have to suffer before the inevitable.

The entire feeling in my back had disappeared. Either that or he had stopped.

I opened my eyes, unsure how long it had been since I first entered the glass prison.

Sure enough, he was gone. I heard footsteps walk towards the door and the click of a lock.

I looked up at my reflection and saw countless tears streaming down my face. My eyes were red and puffy from crying.

I sat up, or at least tried to, and examined the cuts in my back.

I felt such an emptiness in my chest. Any hope that I had entering this underground prison was beaten out of me. Now, I just hoped that I died before I had anything left to lose.

The blood loss finally catching up to me, I decided to lay myself back onto the sterile floors of the cage, the blood beneath me warm and sticky. Was I dying, or just tired?

Whatever I was, I couldn't fight the heaviness of my eyelids.


I woke up on the cot in the prison cell I shared with Sabine. It was surprising to feel that my wounds were dressed and that I was put into a different pair of clothes.

The gesture wasn't intended to be done out of kindness, I'm sure. Better to let my wounds close so there was more satisfaction in opening them later.

I didn't know if it was night or day. Being underground makes it hard to grasp onto anything real or understandable. I guessed it was late in the cycle, judging by the near pitch-black we were sitting in.

Sabine doesn't know about my compromise. I had decided a long time ago that I wouldn't tell her. For all I knew, she wasn't aware that she was sentenced to a punishment for her father's legacy.

I was scared, at a point, that she was brought to the other side of the glass. The physics of the glass cage would've prevented me from ever knowing.

However, I remembered the guard was supposed to escort her back to the cell. I hope that it's the truth.

I shuffled a little on the cot, turning so my back was no longer pressing into the stiff material.

Sabine was sat on the edge of the mattress, looking at the empty wall across the cell.

"Sabine?" I whispered.

She replied with a hum.

"Are we still fighting?" I asked, my voice choking up.

She forced a quiet laugh. "Were we fighting? Were you going to tell me?"

"I'm serious," I retorted. "We haven't spoken since we've been caught."

Sabine's shoulders sunk, and she brought her legs up onto the cot. "I guess I'm just not really sure what to say. I don't even know how many days we've been gone."

Her eyes still hadn't met mine.

"Where were you?" she whispered. "When I was alone here, where were you?"

I sighed. "I didn't mean to leave you alone. I'm sorry-"

She crossed her arms in frustration. "Are you not going to tell me?" Her eyes narrowed.

"I promise, there's nothing to tell." I hesitantly put my hand out to take hers

"Can we just talk about something else?"

Her hands used to always be covered by her gloves, the same as mine. Now, her bare hand was warm in my palm.

The only warmth I would probably know until I was slaughtered for crimes I didn't commit.

I could feel tears rushing up to my eyes as I remembered how alone I felt in the glass prison. I wish I could tell her. I wish I could cry into her arms as she reassured me that she was here and everything was okay.

The universe granted me one small pardon, at least. She was here, and her eyes were soft, and her hands were warm. The only piece I had left of the family I left behind.

"Ezra?" she asked, squeezing my hand.

I swallowed hard, the words fighting to stay in my throat. "I just feel so alone, here in this place. I finally found a family to replace the one I lost, and instead of dying alongside them, I'm dying alone, and afraid-"

I couldn't fight the sobs I was heaving. Everything felt so heavy.

"Hey hey hey hey-" Sabine soothed, her free hand caressing my cheek. "No one," she said firmly, "is dying here. Not if I have anything to say about it."

She wiped away the warm tears rolling down my cheeks. "You said you wanted to talk about something else. So let's talk do that, okay?" she prompted, laying down next to me on the flimsy cot.

I managed to catch my breath after my crying came to a slow.

She started rambling about the picture she started in her room, and how excited she was to finish it when we got back to the Ghost.

She even offered to let me help.

For a moment, I pretended hopes were high and agreed to promises I was afraid we couldn't keep.

Pretending was almost as good as the real thing.