Ezra watched as the blast door between him and the last inquisitor shut. Letting a sigh escape him, Ezra de-ignited his lightsaber. As the blade retracted, he searched the force for the inquisitor's force signature. As the adrenaline left him, Ezra probed the force; for a few moments he thought he might be getting somewhere, but then Ezra expected as much: Inquisitors were experts at concealing their force signatures. The fact that he couldn't get even a vague idea of where the inquisitor was didn't comfort him overmuch. Yet, there was at least three blast doors between him and them, so Ezra pushed the thought away.
Instead, he studied the room he was now stuck in: alarms blared, red lights affixed to the wall painted the durasteel around them in a harsh ruby light. Ezra was turned, and realised he was in another hall. There were no indentations but there was something else: pods. Pods with droids, specifically. Ezra counted at least two dozen of them; inside was a type of droid he'd never seen before. Their mechanical frames had pauldrons on their right shoulders and what Ezra guessed was staffs in their right hands. Capes, with long-unattended simmersilk was curled around the droids' frames. Ezra couldn't make out their faces, and prayed he'd never have to.
Re-igniting his lightsaber, Ezra strode down the hall, whilst attempting to quell his worries about the inquisitor. They were terrifying to him - no matter what he might've told Sabine. He wasn't incompetent with a lightsaber - far from it - but they were just… better. In every way: faster, stronger, more quick-witted. Add another reason. Ezra doubted that he could survive an encounter with one right now.
His thoughts carried him into the room the hall lead to: consoles were bolted to the walls, their various keyboards and switches something Ezra didn't care about. A fine layer of dust rest atop them; clearly the maintenance droids hadn't been active in awhile. Switches, levers, and knobs that probably once had a larger purpose once, now useless. Not that he would've been able to use them, in any case. A center console was in the exact center of the room, resting on a slightly raised slab of durasteel. Ezra approached it with curiosity, careful to keep his blade away from the thing; the outpost was already in a lockdown of some sort, he didn't want to know what would happen if the console was damaged. The teen took note of the dust that had accumulated on the console's surface. Ezra brushed away some of the dust and immediately withdrew his hand. He sank to his knees, hissing in pain and digging his nails into his scalp.
"Karabast," he murmured. Ezra sluggishly slung on of his arms over onto the console's surface, trying and failing to support himself with it. Ezra could feel his consciousness ebbing away second-by-second as the pain somehow got even worse. With clenched teeth, the youth threw both arms onto the console before him in abandon. Mustering his dwindling strength, Ezra pushed down on the console with his arms, just managing to get his elbows to where he could use them for support.
The agony continued.
It refused to stop; soon Ezra was feeling lightheaded. His lightsaber fell from his hand, deactivating as it clattered to the ground and rolled off the platform it's owner was struggling to stay upright on. Ezra's breath came through labored gasps; his eyelids felt too heavy to keep open. His arms had never felt this heavy before. Ezra could barely formulate thoughts in the wake of the pain. Ezra had never hated his head more than he did at that moment.
Time may have lost meaning to Ezra, but when the pain came to a merciful end, he was ready to hibernate like a particularly tired banta.
Forcing himself up, Ezra steadied against the main console. Sweaty palms attracted dust. Ezra, after feeling well enough to stand, did his best to shake the dust off of his hands. He looked around for his lightsaber and extended his hand. The hilt flew to his hand, and Ezra ignited it. Golden light touched Ezra's face, calming him somewhat.
He let out a breath, running a hand through his messy hair. His hand came back moisturized, and Ezra shook the water off it. He stepped down off the raised platform with the main console, feeling slightly better.
The alarms and klaxon sounds were still heard by Ezra, but he did his best to ignore them. What he couldn't ignore, though, were the two droids that entered the room. They held electro-staffs. Ezra bit his lower lip in exasperation and anger. He raised his blade, frustration building.
Today, everything in his life somehow got worse. What did the universe want from him? Suicide? Glaring at the droids whilst cursing everything, Ezra charged them.
AN: So… it's been a month. Sorry. I had trouble writing this chapter for a few reasons: 1: I was burnt out. 2: I started another story. And 3: I'm lazy. I won't say when the next chapter will come out, but it will be done… some time. :/ Any reviews/follows/favs will be duly noted.