9 Revelations
The Ghost, en route to Chandrila
The lightsaber hilt was heavy in her palm as she studied the weapon and debated on the best course of action to take.
It had been well over a month had passed since they'd found Jacen in the temple, time that she'd had to get to know Ezra all over again. The jokes. The laughter. And, of course, the flirting. The man was incorrigible. She rolled her eyes as a light chuckle escaped her lips and broke the silence of the dimly lit room.
The weight of the blade brought her attention back into focus, and silence enveloped her as her laughter faded into nothingness. The blade. The tool of a Jedi. She knew all too well what that meant. She remembered seeing Kanan draw his lightsaber that first time - the feeling of awe and inspiration that rose within her as the humming sounds of the elegant weapon filled her senses.
Then, there were the memories of Ezra wielding this very blade. She knew what it meant to him. It represented the Force and his connection to it. Watching Ezra using the Force again these past few weeks was like seeing him in a whole new light, however, superimposed over the boy she used to know. He had grown and changed. Teaching Jacen had given him a sense of purpose, of being, once again.
"Damn," she muttered as she set the silver hilt back in the desk drawer and activated the lock, securing it inside, sighing deeply. She picked up the canisters of paint and shook them, studying the painting before her. Art helped soothe her. It helped her work through her varying emotions and problems. As she painted, realizations shifted through her, taking her breath away.
She was afraid to give the saber back to Ezra because she knew he would leave again when she did. He would leave her again. Leave her to go after Thrawn, and he won't come back this time. She froze, the canisters in her hand empty of their paint, as she stared at the freshly painted large phoenix that adorned her wall.
Double damn.
The canisters slipped from her hands as she eyed the drawer where she had hidden the saber away. She squeezed her eyes shut as she faced the feelings that she'd been unwilling to acknowledge. You're afraid because you know that you love Ezra, that you have been in love with him for years and couldn't admit it to yourself, let alone anyone else.
The phoenix stared back at her and Sabine was filled with a sense of renewal. Next time she saw him, she swore to herself, she'd tell him. She nodded to herself. Yes, she thought, I'll tell him. He deserves to know how I truly feel about him.
#
Ezra Dreams
Klaxons rang through the Star Destroyer, mixing with the thunderous sound of feet pounding down the corridors.
"Sir, you must get to safety!"
Thrawn stood his ground. "Seal the blast doors!"
Captain Pellaeon eyed the Chiss Grand Admiral, who stood so calmly in the face of the storm that was currently heading their way. "Sir, you must get to the escape pods. The Jedi will be here any moment. Karukh is no match for him! You saw what he did to those droidekas!"
Thrawn scratched the ysalamiri behind his ear. "You are mistaken, Captain. The Jedi will not harm me. We have a long and varied history."
A scream echoing down the corridor interrupted him, along with the powerful hum of a lightsaber.
"Sir, I ask you again. Please get to the escape pods. The other moffs' pods are already away. I will stay and face the Jedi." Pellaeon pointed urgently at the blast door behind them.
Thrawn drew his mouth into a thin line as he gave a curt nod and turned on his heel. He sealed the blast door behind him, leaving the loyal Captain to his fate. He jogged down the corridor heading towards the escape pod bay, pausing only momentarily at a terminal to access the camera feed from the command deck.
He watched, breathing in slowly, taking control of his emotions, as the Jedi entered the command deck. His eyebrows arched at the green lightsaber blade and the black hooded cloak covering the Jedi's face.
He studied the Jedi, searching for any signs of familiarity. Had Ezra come to take revenge at long last?
The Jedi recalled the beam of green light and holstered the hilt, and lifted his chin. Thrawn inhaled sharply as the Jedi's hands rose towards his hood and pushed it back to reveal his clean-shaven face and dark blond hair.
His eyes narrowed as it dawned upon him that the Jedi on the screen was not Ezra Bridger but another Jedi out in the galaxy. Another variable that cannot be accounted for nor controlled.
Fear crept down his spine as a memory came to him of another Jedi, from long ago, with the same intense eyes, which seemed to be focused directly on him through the screen. Thrawn's face was pinched and haunted as he fled down the corridor towards the escape pods.
Ezra woke, shaken to the core.
The dreams were coming more often and in greater intensity.
Ezra wondered why he was dreaming of Thrawn so often? It was almost as if they were tied together cosmically. He made a mental note to ask Ahsoka about it when they arrived on Chandrila. Ahsoka, Rex, Kallus, and Zeb had gone ahead of them while staying on Lothal, recouping and strengthening his bond with Jacen.
Was it a type of force bond with Thrawn? He wondered, or was the Force showing him information that he needed to know? Thrawn was afraid and on the run. Something about the Jedi had scared him, Ezra thought while thinking back over the dream. Why?
And, just who was this mysterious Jedi?
Something else to ask Ahsoka about, he thought as he swung his legs over his bunk and slid out of bed quietly so as not to disturb Jacen, who slept peacefully on the bottom bunk.
He stepped out into the hallway slipping his arms into his lightweight shirt, leaving it unbuttoned and hanging loosely around him. The cool air hit his sleep-warmed flesh, sending goosebumps over his chest, waking him fully. His thoughts strayed back to the dream as he found his way to the galley and began brewing a cup of caff.
A humming sound floated around him, hauntingly beautiful, hypnotic even. He felt pulled as if along an invisible string as the mystical music floated on the Force, urging him onward.
He followed the lilting music, eyes closed as he felt himself reach into the Force, searching for the source. The music became muffled and quiet, and he found himself standing in front of Sabine's door. His fingers lightly touched the door.
Sabine.
The door opened like a soft whisper, and he found himself staring down into her dark eyes. "Sabine, I know…."
His words were cut off as she pulled him to her and her lips found his. The kiss was sweet and tender, full of emotions that they had not let themselves entertain. His fingertips brushed against her cheek before pulling away. "Sabine, I -"
Could he dare hope this meant what he thought it did? His eyes searched hers as she whispered, "I love you."
A feeling of warmth spread through him. He had hoped and dreamed of this moment for so long, and now it was here. A slow, sly smile came over him as he replied, "I know."
#
Chandrila
Hanna City Spaceport, docking bay 94
As Jacen skipped down the ramp towards where Hera stood talking with Ahsoka, Ezra watched in amusement, his smile deepening as Sabine's arm looped around his waist. He stepped down the ramp after his rambunctious padawan, pausing at Sabine's light touch. He turned back and smiled down at her. His smile faded as he took in her serious demeanor. "What is it?"
She shuffled her feet. "Ezra, about last night…."
He smiled. "Last night was wonderful. Not having second thoughts, are you?"
"No," she replied. "It's just…." She sighed. It didn't take being able to use the Force to tell that something was bothering her. "It's just, well, I was going to give this to you last night, but I… then we kissed…."
Ezra frowned as she fished inside her bag, slung over her shoulder, and pulled out his old lightsaber. He blinked as the light glinted on the silver of his lightsaber hilt. Gingerly, he took it from her trembling hands, and as he did, he could feel the intensity of Ahsoka's stare upon him. "Sabine, you've had this all along?"
Sabine pursed her lips together as she cleared her throat. "I was waiting for the right time to give it back to you. I've kept it safe all these years for you."
The weight of the lightsaber felt warm and comforting in his hand. The Force sang sweetly around him as he reconnected to the kyber crystal housed inside. His eyes fluttered to a close as he felt the Force flow through him and around him. When he opened his eyes, she was already walking down the ramp and off of the Ghost.
Ahsoka met him at the end of the ramp. "Looks like you have a choice to make, Ezra."
He glanced down at the hilt that he had subconsciously placed on the side of his hip. "Yes, I suppose it does."
#
The Acolyte hid in the shadow, watching from afar as Ezra Bridger and the young green-haired boy, Jacen Syndulla, made their way out of the spaceport. It was now or never, he thought as he pulled his cloak closer to him to hide his disfigurement. He followed them through the bustling spaceport and into the city.
His Master had been most displeased with him when he could not retrieve the boy from Lothal. It seemed that giant wolves blocked his way anytime he managed to get close enough to the boy. It was uncanny, the wolves and their devotion to the child, a devotion that the Acolyte could not comprehend.
Ezra Bridger was another matter altogether. Simply put, the man was never alone. That pesky Mandalorian woman and Twi'lek were never far from his side. Not to mention, the boy and Ezra were never far apart from each other.
The group paused to look at a fruit stall, the young boy complaining he was hungry, and the Acolyte had to jump around a building's corner to avoid being seen. His breath was heavy and labored from his exertion. Sweat formed in tiny beads on his pale forehead as he peered around the corner.
He frowned. The Togruta woman was no longer with the group. His eyes darted around the marketplace in search of her. She was a known powerful Force-user, one his Master had warned him to steer clear of. He knew he was not ready to face one such as her.
A loud snap-hiss sounded behind him.
He froze and stood perfectly still. His hand snaked down to grab the curved hilt of his lightsaber. He whirled around, the blood-red blade coming forth with a shriek as he snarled at the calm Togruta female. A second white blade ignited to join its twin. He embraced the pain, the anger, all the loathing that he had endured at the hands of his cruel Master and pulled heavily on the Force and leapt at her.
The Togruta stepped calmly to the side, and his aim missed its mark, striking the building instead.
"Lay down your blade, Shadow," she said as she gripped the white blades loosely. "Lay down your blade, and retreat back into the darkness."
"Never!"
She gave him a sad look, which only fueled his anger. How dare she pity him?! Soon, he would be more than just a Shadow! Soon, he will be Power itself! He would be the oncoming Storm! He leapt at her once more. The Togruta's white blades crisscrossed in front of him, disarming him.
He cradled the remains of his arm against his chest as he howled in pain.
"Stand down, Shadow," she said, allowing him to walk away.
He laughed manically. He pulled his pain around him, like a blood-red cloak, and drew heavily on the Force as he reached out for his saber and staggered towards her.
The white blades ripped into him, and the darkness reclaimed him.
Across the Galaxy, The Dark Lord felt a tremor in the Force. His Shadow, the Acolyte, was no more. He faded into the background. The Light was too strong. It was not yet time to put his plan into motion. He would wait. He would endure. Then, he would strike.