(A/N)- Once again we've come to the end, at least for now. (Gonna be taking a break to hash out an outline and focus on some out-of-fandom things for a bit.) I wish to once again thank all my loyal readers; your comments and reviews really keep me going.
Let's check back in one last time with everyone, shall we?
Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own Star Wars.
What Lies Behind, What Looms Ahead
Ezra burst from the side of the temple wall just as Sabine was looking towards it, immediately crashing to the ground and rolling to an awkward stop.
"Ezra!" she cried, lunging to his side at once and grabbing his arm, urging him to his feet. "C'mon, c'mon, get up! We're leaving!" She pulled him upright, tugging him along, away from the portal, toward what she hoped was safety—if they could find it between the lancing blaster bolts and charging Stormtroopers.
He pulled his head up, shaking off the daze of his landing. "No!" he protested, planting his feet.
Sabine let go in confusion.
Ezra thumbed over his shoulder, at the circle of painted Loth-wolves still running on the temple wall behind them. "We have to seal the portal." He looked overwhelmed for just a moment before his expression changed into determination. "Come on!" he urged.
Stormtroopers rushed them as Hera led the way, Sabine on her heels, both women laying down cover fire and felling enemies as they ran, feet making a pounding path back to the painting of the Mortis gods. Sabine glanced back anxiously a couple times to reassure herself that Ezra and Zeb were following, Zeb holding Ezra close to his side to shield him, firing shots from his bo-rifle.
They reached the painting quickly. The press of troopers had soon backed them up against the wall, stray shots finding their way past them to ding the mural and Sabine flinched every time, hoping that none of the bolts did any damage. She didn't know exactly how it worked; all she knew was that Ezra had to interact with it, and if that were so, there had to be something left for him to interact with.
So she shot back feverishly, striking Stormtrooper after Stormtropper with rapid shots.
There were so many. They'd be overwhelmed if something didn't—
A loud grinding of metal bits reared up in her hearing, zooming in from the side. A large shape blocked the industrial lights to her right and Sabine squinted at the rolling drill as it sped straight for the Stormtroopers, scattering them.
Chopper's maniacal beeps could be heard from within the driver's cabin.
Sabine felt trickles of relief ping through her and shudder down her arms. The drill swung in a wide arc to block them from the troopers' sight. They had their opening to move.
Zeb's laughter brayed out.
"Chopper's got 'em!" he said. "Let's move!"
Ezra looked to her, earnest and trusting.
"Sabine! Which one do I activate?"
She pointed up. "The Son!" she called. "That one!"
He nodded, and with a quick boost from Zeb was lifted up within reach, pressing a fist into the figure's painted hand.
Sabine watched anxiously, biting the inside of her lip. She saw his face squeeze tight in concentration.
It had to work. The theory that she and Hydan had come up with for how the portal operated had to be right. Ezra trusted her, was putting his life at risk based on her evaluation. She couldn't let him down. If she'd guessed wrong...
But the circle around the Son's clenched fist turned blood red, and Ezra fell away from the wall as the same scarlet color flashed up through the golden lines of the mural.
-SWR-
Zeb caught Ezra as the boy collapsed, fainting softly into Zeb's hands. He looked down at Ezra in concern, worry ringing through him.
The boy was limp, his eyes closed. Whatever he'd done must have taken a lot out of him. Zeb's eyes wrinkled with distress. Ezra felt... light. Fragile, even. Zeb was almost irrationally afraid of dropping him, certain the boy would shatter against the ground. His fingers tightened.
A crunch of stone from the wall made his head jerk up.
Zeb watched, half in bewilderment, half in disbelief, as the picture on the wall moved, the central figure raising his hand up from its pointing finger to a neutral gesture, the darker figure next to it—the "Son" Sabine had called it—bringing his hands beneath his chin and bowing reverently before beginning to descend, disappearing towards the ground as though it were on some kind of turbolift platform.
Chopper maneuvered the drill around, drawing their attention. Zeb turned his back to the portal. There was no more time to ponder about the painting, or the portal. No time to contemplate the mysteries of the Force. Hera and Sabine were already running for the drill and Zeb followed after them, carrying Ezra carefully and gently.
Zeb glanced up towards the top of the ridge, where Kanan and Kallus had stayed behind to keep watch. He was so glad neither of them could see what was happening down here because Zeb wasn't even sure how he was going to describe this later.
Ezra stirred softly in his arms, mumbling something incoherent.
Zeb hugged him a little tighter to his chest.
"Easy kid," he whispered soothingly. "Don't worry, I'm not letting go."
The vale turned blinding white as light blazed out from the mural behind them.
-SWR-
Kallus wished Kanan would stop squeezing his arm in panic, especially when he himself was trying to avoid freaking out.
He was doing a considerably terrible job at it.
"What's happening?!" Kanan was asking him frantically.
"I don't know!" Kallus shouted with shrill honesty. He flung his hands out. "Everything is glowing!"
Stars above he regretted ever coming along for this. It had been one exercise in impossible happenings after another.
Kallus was beginning to believe that Sabine had been entirely factual when she'd casually talked about undead Nightsister witch spirits possessing her like a demented puppet.
The ground continued to rumble and shift beneath them. He squinted into the searing white light, trying to catch a glimpse of the others, of anything really. The air was filled with noise, loud and thunderous, as if the earth was in violent upheaval. Rock scraped against rock.
Over the top of the ridge came an angular silhouette framed against the brilliant supernova. A mechanical roar surged as the wheels of what sounded like an industrial drill platform rolled over the edge, wobbling level again. Kallus could see an orange dome in the driver's cabinet, and green lekku swinging behind a figure clinging to the side.
"That's them!" he called. He led the way to it, letting Kanan keep clinging to his arm to guide him until they reached the ladder on the side.
Hera reached down a hand, helping Kanan up first, and then Kallus. Kanan shoved straight into the interior of the vehicle, and through the door Kallus glimpsed the Jedi beelining for the bed in the corner, where a crumpled figure in white trooper armor that must have been Ezra was laying prone. Kallus stumbled as the drill rocked underneath him, hearing Kanan's urgent calls underneath the cacophony of crumbling rock.
"Ezra! Ezra!"
Kallus couldn't blame the man for his worry. Kanan had been agitated ever since Ezra had disappeared through that mysterious portal, claiming he couldn't sense the boy through the Force anymore.
He lurched into the drill's interior room, grabbing onto the closest metal railing. The light was filling the cabin, blinding out everything else, filling his eyes, head, ears until all he could perceive was a solid wall of noise.
He clutched his anchor tighter as the earth bellowed and roared.
-SWR-
A loud curse emanated from behind the door, one of the only few audible sounds he'd heard since he'd been waiting in the warm antechamber, hoping to catch the Emperor before either of them could be whisked away to their respective Imperial duties.
Thrawn tapped his fingers against the side of his thigh. He tried to temper his impatience. Over the course of the past... hour? Hour and a half? the faint noises coming from the chamber had been curiously incomprehensible. Muttered words in a strange language, like some kind of ancient spell. A faint roaring, like licking flames? It was all very strange.
There was no denying now, though—as the curses got louder and louder, the Emperor shouting in outrage at something, weak replies coming from other people in the room—that whatever business his Majesty had been engaged with, it had not gone in his favor.
Thrawn stirred in his seat. His legs were cramping anyway, so he stood, turning toward the door, peering at it.
The muffled yelling continued. Footsteps sounded close to the door and Thrawn alerted as the door slid open, and a frazzled-looking aide slipped out.
Thrawn straightened, and didn't give the aide any opportunity to escape, moving at once to intercept.
"Ah, excuse me," he said. "Might it be possible for me to have a brief audience with the Emperor?" He tried to look past the aide through the door, glimpsing only a faint bluish light. "I have a matter of importance regarding the TIE Defender program that I wish to discuss as soon as possible."
The aide moved to block the opening, strain on his face, expression flustered. "I am sorry, Grand Admiral, you cannot go in there right now."
"His Majesty promised to see me in approximately ten minutes, by his own estimation," Thrawn pointed out stiffly. "I have now been waiting for over an hour."
The aide ducked his head, shifting awkwardly on his feet. "Yes, well, I understand sir, we are terribly sorry you have been kept waiting, however," he said, "the Emperor does not wish to see anyone at this junction. Please make your requests known to Imperial Security at the front desk tomorrow."
The Grand Admiral fought back an irritated eye twitch. "I assure you, it will only take a moment—"
A profane exclamation spewed from the room beyond, and a loud crackling like static discharge sizzled in their ears, a pained yelp and odd slam following.
The aide's face twisted, valiantly attempting to keep up a polite, neutral veneer and failing miserably. "His Majesty is... very... busy... at the moment," he explained, voice small and tight.
Thrawn stared impassively into the eyes of the aide and made a few careful calculations, measuring his own impatience and frustration against what he could observe of Palpatine's.
He came to a strategic decision.
"...I will wait," he told the aide.
He turned swiftly back to his chair.
-SWR-
Everything was all so quiet when he came to that Ezra was afraid his hearing had gone out again, at first.
He sat up, blinking, blearily taking note of Sabine curled up next to him on the corner bed, the warmth of her fingers tight around one of his hands. He looked around the interior of the drill. Chopper was still up in the pilot cockpit, plugged in and recharging with a low hum. Low voices drifted from outside, Kanan and Hera speaking quietly to each other, Kallus on a comlink call with Ryder.
Zeb was seated calmly in a corner, leaning back against the wall with his arms folded, and stirred as Ezra's gaze passed across him.
"Hey Ezra," he said. "Good t' see ya awake." He grinned, extending a hand. "Need a little help?" he offered.
Ezra took Zeb's outstretched palm, carefully extracting himself from Sabine and climbing over her in order to set feet down on the floor. Sabine murmured a bit sleepily at the loss of contact, but didn't stir.
Something in his heart tugged sharply. He reached over, brushing a loose strand of her purple hair out of her eyes, warmth in his chest.
Thanks for staying next to me, he wanted to say, but kept it in knowing she couldn't hear him right now. When she was awake, he'd tell her.
Zeb's grin was wider, knowing, when he turned back around.
"What?" Ezra asked, confused.
"Nothing," Zeb snickered.
Ezra shook his head and dismissed it, moving towards the open door. "Is it morning?" he asked. Pale white daylight was gleaming off the wide flat plain.
"Sun came up just about seven minutes ago," Zeb confirmed, standing, watching him from behind as he stepped out onto the edge of the drill.
Ezra blinked at their surroundings, seeing the ground stretch straight to the horizon. Nothing broke the level surface, even the rocks small and flat and inconsequential. Something niggled at the back of his mind about that. Ezra had a sense of missing which seemed out of place. Like there should have been something here.
It just seemed so... empty.
With a jolt, Ezra realized where they were and what was missing.
-SWR-
Kanan and Hera both turned as Ezra's cry of distress rang out from atop the drill. Kanan heard a metal squeal as his padawan slid down the ladder, his bootsteps running light and rapid across the cold ice-crusted ground as he ran up to them.
"Kanan!" he cried. "It's gone!"
The Jedi turned towards him in confusion. "What is?" he asked.
Hera shifted next to him, a brief flash of guilt welling in her signature. "I didn't get a chance to tell him yet," she apologized to Ezra, as the boy's breathless pants stopped in front of Kanan.
"Tell me what?" he asked again, patiently.
"The Jedi temple!" Ezra said in dismay. "We're standing right at the entrance and it's just... it's gone, Kanan," he finished, his voice trembling. A sorrow was clutching at Ezra's signature in the Force, tight around his heart, mirroring the horrible wrench that hit Kanan's.
He gasped softly, turning to face towards the vast emptiness. The hollow, stripped-down feeling he'd had since the drill had settled made a grim kind of sense now. Where there should have been a glowing star, bright and radiant in the Force, there was nothing but empty air. He could feel the traces of the temple's energy still lingering, like faint ghosts hovering over the surface of the ground.
"It's... it's like it never existed," came Ezra's strained, half-trembling observation.
Grief threatened to drown him a moment. They had stood here once, in this very spot, and Kanan had promised Ezra the temple would be there long after they were. But now... now this remnant of the Jedi Order was gone too, wiped away by the Empire's machinations. Erased. Like everything else.
Searching for a positive to assure Ezra with, Kanan spoke with halting fumbles. "Maybe... maybe it's for the best. The Empire can't... can't desecrate it any further. At least." He was thinking of Hera's ancestral home, how she'd rather blow it up herself than see the Empire casually living in it, making a mockery of her people.
He felt Ezra shudder, the words seeming to settle him. "Yeah..." he whispered in agreement. "Yeah it's—we couldn't let them get what was inside."
There was something else weighing on him, something heavy. Kanan waited for Ezra to continue, to gather his thoughts.
Hera's warmth stirred and withdrew, the Twi'lek immediately understanding without words the need to give him and Ezra some privacy. Her footsteps faded away. She spoke softly to Kallus, and their voices quieted as they both stepped back.
Kanan silently thanked her inside his head, before returning attentions to Ezra. The boy was lost in thought, drifting, his signature uncertain.
"What happened in there?" Kanan asked, quietly. "You disappeared from my senses for a while."
Ezra audibly swallowed, taking a slow breath.
"Inside... inside this portal there was... like a vast network of pathways. Like, roads hanging between the stars. A world between worlds," he said. "I could hears whispers, voices I didn't recognize and... some that I did."
Kanan listened attentively, in slight awe, as the boy explained.
"I... I think I was... inside the Force, somehow?" he offered helplessly, struggling for words. "Everything all felt present, like... all points in time were happening at the same moment." He paused a moment, letting Kanan mull over what he'd said.
Both of them were silent for a moment. Then:
"Ahsoka's alive."
Kanan double-took. "What?" he blurted.
Ezra started stammering very quickly. "Th—there was this—this convor and I followed it and—and it led me to another portal and—" He paused to inhale deeply. "I saw Ahsoka and Vader fighting on Malachor. The Sith temple was exploding, she pushed me—the younger me—away and Vader was going to kill her so—" He was fidgeting, his feet shifting and shuffling on the ground. "—so I—I reached into the portal and grabbed her and..." He stilled himself, tightening up. "...I pulled her out."
"Ezra!" Kanan said, scoldingly. "That was dangerous! You don't know what you could have done!"
"I know, I just... reacted!" Ezra groaned. Kanan heard the boy's fingers scratching through his hair, raking against his scalp. "Ahsoka said the same thing, said she had to go back right where I'd pulled her from, as close as possible, to avoid causing any possible damage. Anyway, she's alive, so—"
"Wait a minute, wait a minute!" Kanan interrupted, waving his hands. "Are you saying she's still there on Malachor, right now?"
"Well..." Ezra sounded a bit sheepish. "She was there. She might not be there now. I mean it's been a year."
"This isn't confusing at all," drolled Kanan.
"Yeah I know." More grimly, a seriousness in his voice that sobered Kanan right up, Ezra went on. "But that's... that's the reason we couldn't let the Emperor... let him..."
He trailed off, emotion welling up inside him.
Kanan waited, nerves on pins and needles, for him to speak up again.
"I saw him," Ezra confessed quietly. "The Emperor. He showed me my parents." His next breath shuddered. "I saw their last moments. B-before they died in that prison. He said I could save them, if—if I..."
A hot, protective fury rose inside Kanan immediately. He felt cold anger—that Palpatine would dare threaten his kid personally, that he would dangle Ezra's parents in front of him like that, that he had been stuck up on the ridge and unable to help, unable to be there when Ezra needed him.
"It was a trick," he growled. "He never would have let you—"
"I know," Ezra interrupted. "I know, Kanan, I'm not stupid," he defended hotly. "But... but for a moment when I saw them I just..."
He fell silent.
Kanan heard a wet drop falling on the ground by their feet, and was already moving before he was conscious of it, pulling Ezra into a tight embrace.
Ezra trembled, breathing in stuttered, shaky gasps, standing in place numbly as Kanan held him. "I still miss them... so much," he told Kanan in a quivering whisper.
"I know," Kanan said, soothingly, smoothing down Ezra's collar. "I'm sorry."
"Kanan... I'm scared." Ezra pushed back, swiping an arm across his face furiously. "Palpatine. He said... he said I was the key, the linchpin to everything." He calmed as he exhaled, though Kanan could sense his anxiety rising. "The only one who could access the world between worlds." His voice shook. "He wants to use me like a tool, like some kind of anchor to get in. He's never going to stop coming after me."
Kanan reached out, grabbed his shoulder firmly. "We won't let that happen. We'll stop him."
"You don't know that. You can't see all the paths I can," Ezra said, cryptically.
"Ezra," Kanan stopped him firmly. "Listen to me." His hand tightened on Ezra's shoulder. "We won't let him get his hands on you. Whatever happens, we'll face it with you."
He felt his apprentice's mood lighten, calming down, settling. "Kanan..." he said. "Thank you. For everything." He inhaled slowly, his signature in the Force becoming tranquil. "I don't know what's going to happen. But I'm glad you've taught me everything you have. I wouldn't be who I am today without you."
Kanan let a fond smile play on his lips. "You've taught me almost as much as I've taught you," he told Ezra. "I love you, kid."
Ezra said nothing, but Kanan could feel his smile, and the hand that reached up to grasp his tightly.
-SWR-
Sabine rubbed at her eyes as she came out onto the landing. The anxiety she'd awoken with calmed as she spied Ezra out on the field with Kanan, both of them standing and looking off towards the horizon, towards the brilliant rising sun and... was that vague figure she could see the white Loth-wolf, in the distance?
She shook her head. The Force was still so mysterious to her. She was glad, in a way, though. At least she didn't have to worry about weird visions or vague notions of unease or anything else that plagued Kanan and Ezra on a regular basis.
The two Jedi were framed by the white light, and it seemed to make them look... almost ethereal. Sabine felt her heart turning over loudly as she looked at them, looked at Ezra, saw him almost aglow with energy and lightness, a beacon of hope, steadfast and determined.
When had he turned into such a warrior paragon?, she wondered, her chest squeezing tighter as she watched him. When had he become someone she wanted to stay next to until the very end, someone she cared for more than her own life?
The echoes of a piercing question repeated in her mind, as if from far away:
"How long have you been harboring feelings for Bridger?"
She considered the answer, mulling over it in her head. And gave a weary, silent, mental curse.
Oh shavit, she thought. She was in love with him, wasn't she? It couldn't be more clear to her. That was why it ached when he was gone, why she couldn't function without him there, why she had to be by side his whenever she could.
Why it felt so easy and natural to curl up next to him in bed.
She closed her eyes in agonized resignation.
Dammit Ezra, she thought, why did it have to be you?
Still, she supposed she could have made a worse choice.
At least her father seemed to like him.
-SWR-
Thrawn was coming to the absolute end of his considerable patience when the door to the inner chambers finally opened again, a couple Imperial guards moving out to take up positions by the door and then the Emperor himself stalking out, shoulders tensed and stiff, expression twisted with contained anger.
The Grand Admiral rose swiftly, bowing his head to pay respects. "My Lord," he said, "forgive me for the intrusion but there is a matter I wish to—"
"Spare me your entreaties, Grand Admiral," the Emperor snapped, spitting the words out with venom. "My mind is made up. I am pulling all funds for the TIE Defender, effective immediately."
Uncharacteristic fury flashed across the Chiss's face for a moment, nigh imperceptible save to the closest of observers. Taking a slow breath to compose himself, Thrawn argued back calmly. "Do not let the setbacks caused by Governor Pryce's careless actions dissuade you from the soundness of the Defender as a strategic advantage," he said. "I still believe it is the best course of action if you wish to retain order and control over the known galactic spaces."
"Your opinion is noted," Palpatine spit derisively. "But my interest in Lothal remains contained to the gateway in the Jedi temple, and the gateway only, and that prize is already fast slipping from my grasp." One thin-fingered claw curled up to demonstrate. "I have but one last chance to seize the power within." He fixed Thrawn with a severe, yellow-eyed glare. "I have already sent your command crew instructions on a chamber I wish for you to construct aboard the Chimaera. You will return to Lothal immediately," he emphasized, "and put down the rebel activity, with whatever means you deem necessary. Then..."
The Emperor paused significantly, and Thrawn had a horrible feeling he knew what the man was about to say.
"...you will bring the young Jedi Ezra Bridger to that chamber."
"He will not come willingly," Thrawn pointed out at once, his teeth clenching.
"Oh I have no doubt," snorted Palpatine. "I am sure if you cannot capture him you can find a way to... persuade him to join you, however. Jedi are nothing if not predictable." He leaned his head back stiffly, sneering with a haughty air. "I expect your full cooperation in this endeavor."
"Of course, Your Majesty," Thrawn jumped to assure him, cursing inside his head that he was going to have to deal with Bridger again.
That trembling, hot, feral energy was threatening inside him again, vibrating under his outward facade of calm. Despite his hours and hours of analysis, Thrawn had failed to reach any kind of definite conclusion to the enigma that was the young Jedi. He could not ascertain what magic or sorcery had let the boy survive his interrogation, nor continue eluding him and his forces. The anomaly remained an unknown factor, and he did not like unknown factors in close contact with his operations. They were erratic, disruptive... unpredictable.
If he could persuade the Emperor to simply slay the anomaly instead, erase it like so much corrupted and unusable data...
He decided to push forward.
"I might suggest, however, that it would be more expedient to simply execute the boy, along with his companions. He has proven... troublesome."
Emperor Palpatine's face was frighteningly wrathful for a moment. "I need him alive, Thrawn," he emphasized again, harshly, firmly. "He is the key. My anchorpoint into the world between worlds that will give me control over all of time and space."
"He is irrelevant," Thrawn contended, openly agitated now and forgetting all decorum, deciding for the moment not to comment on the Emperor's nonsensical ideas of controlling time and space. "There is nothing special about that boy that cannot be replicated by another," he all but snarled through his teeth.
"Oh?" sneered the Emperor. "Have you managed to come across another Jedi in the interim between our last meeting and now?" he challenged. "One intimately connected to Lothal perhaps? Then do not presume to claim that he is so replaceable."
There seemed to be an internal scream scraping at the sides of his skull, and Thrawn was forced to concede the point with his silence. His hands clenched slowly into fists by his sides.
"I have studied the boy extensively, Your Excellency, and I do not believe attempting to utilize him—"
A warning hand was raised and Thrawn stopped talking at once.
Palpatine lowered his hand, folding it into the other across his stomach.
"Your obsession with Bridger will be your undoing," he said witheringly, tone scornful.
Thrawn resisted the urge to roll his eyes and point out the hypocrisy of the man's own clear fixation on the anomaly and his supposed unique qualities, biting down hard on his lip and fuming.
"You will bring him to me," Palpatine reaffirmed. "And he will either serve the purpose I intend for him, or he will be destroyed."
On that, at least, Thrawn was in agreement. And he would be only too happy to carry it out himself, he decided, feeling the vibrations inside him thrumming a little louder.
"You are dismissed," Palpatine said stiffly. He lifted his chin back in a manner that clearly said the conversation was over.
Thrawn paid his respects begrudgingly and turned on his heel to depart, anger still ringing in his ears.
He could feel the Emperor's eyes like sizzling lightning on his back as he left.
-SWR-
Pryce gripped the datapad with slowly tightening fingers, fear and dread solidifying inside of her as she read the words.
A few minutes prior, an officer had delivered her the report, data-encrypted and password-sealed, containing the forensics analysis that confirmed that it was not Kanan Jarrus's remains that they had found outside the fuel depot.
No one else had seen these results—she had given explicit instructions to that end, jealously demanding to hoard the information in her paranoia. No one could know, especially Thrawn. His wrath upon her, already promising to be terrible indeed, would be even worse if he found out that her one positive offering—the death of the Jedi master—had been a pitiful lie.
Panic was spiraling through her, growing sharper and sharper with every moment. Frantic thoughts swirled around in her mind, repeating as one single idea:
Fix this.
She could fix this, there was plenty of time before Thrawn returned, she had to fix this. All she had to do was locate the Rebels' new base of operations. Then she would kill the Jedi herself if she had to. It would be easy. Thrawn would never have to know. She could fix this.
She gripped the edges of the datapad so hard it threatened to crack.
She would fix this.
-SWR-
Thrawn sat and stewed in his office as he waited for the workers in the auxiliary hanger to be finished, tapping at the desk, irritated thoughts chasing each other around inside his head.
They were transplanting the front doorway of the Lothal temple from the bowels of the Imperial Palace to the Chimaera.
A painstaking feat he should have appreciated, were he not reduced to a mere busboy hauling it back and forth. A remarkable work of art that should have been the finest piece in his collection, were he not disallowed from studying it, forced to be content to observe it from a distance while Palpatine used it for his own purposes.
His teeth ground together harder, his tapping fingers tensing.
Confound the mysteries of the Force! Confound that he was surrounded by beings that put their trust in unknowable, unstudied mysticism, or resource-guzzling superweapons rather than sound military strategy!
The multiplying indignities flitted through his head. Pryce's trigger-happy temper blowing up the factories, ruining production of his prized starfighter. Krennic and his blasted, wasteful, ego-inflating Stardust Project. His last-ditch attempt at appealing directly to the Emperor on behalf of the Defender flung back in his face and being immediately sent back to fetch the cause of all of it, the recurring factor in the ruination of all his endeavors, so that his Emperor could use him to perform magic rituals.
The feral energy inside him snapped a moment and he swept his arm sharply across his desk, knocking datapads off with a harsh slap. They clattered on the floor and he immediately curled his shaking hands, willing the flush away from his face and the heat out of his chest.
Control. He had to keep himself... under control.
He shuddered, his breath rattling out of him. He focused his breathing into a even tempo, calming his heartrate through sheer force of will, and the feverish tingles running along his nerves and spine slowly faded.
I must... remain focused, he thought. He could not allow these undignified brutish outbursts to continue to happen. He was not going to be unnerved by all this... mysticism.
A little chime came from his desk. Thrawn punched the button to receive the communication.
"All finished, sir," the voice on the other end reported. "Artifact is secured."
Cold resolve hardened inside him. Thrawn composed himself, stoic tranquility dropping over him like a heavy curtain.
He rose from his seat.
The moment the Emperor was finished with Bridger, the minute the boy no longer served a purpose, Thrawn vowed, he would eliminate the young Jedi.
No mistakes. No room for error.
"Prepare for departure," he ordered crisply, red eyes even and leveled. He clasped hands behind his back as he started walking for the door. "Set course for Lothal."
(A/N)- ONCE MORE, WITH FEELING, your chapter notes!
1. Needed some protective Big Brother Zeb, so I wrote it in. I just love that moment in the episode where he boosts Ezra and then catches him Pieta-style after he collapses.
2. As I said, Kallus needs a very long nap, lol.
3. I will never forgive Timothy Zhan for not taking advantage of the comedic potential of watching Thrawn just slowly lose his shit as things unravel around him in Thrawn: Treason. The mental image of him waiting awkwardly in the wings while Palpatine is busy doing all his weird Sith sorcery in his secret inner chamber was also too hilarious to pass up. Hey, if canon won't give me what I want, I just gotta write it myself.
4. Managed to wring some last little emotional whump out of this final chapter. Ezra's anxieties will play a large roll in the next fic, all I can say is I'm looking forward to bringing him some closure about everything.
5. Oh no Sabine has had A Realization, ha ha. Realized I needed some juicy shiptease to end with, didn't want you guys to think I'd forgotten about them. Big things to come for them next fic.
6. Pryce's day continues to get worse. :)
7. As does Thrawn's. He is just surrounded by incompetents isn't he? Has to do everything himself, lol.
A bit of a cliffhanger to leave you off on, and I apologize. I realize a lot of this fic is basically just laying groundwork for the final confrontation but hopefully I've whet your appetites for that nicely. Thank you all again for sticking with me through this rollercoaster journey, and I look forward to seeing you all in the last story!