Author's note: Thanks everyone for all the reviews so far :) I really hope you are all enjoying the story.
"Six! Come in, spectre six" Ezra must be dreaming.
There was no way he could be hearing Hera's voice right now.
His name came again. This time he looked around for the sound; glancing down quickly at his jumpsuit, where, in one of his many hidden pockets, he had concealed his Ghost com. He had forgotten all about his com! Scrabbling for it, he looked around quickly to check no one was watching or within earshot before pressing the button.
"Spectre Six here. Everything okay?" He could already feel a grin building on his face.
A sigh of relief could be heard from the other end. "Your com started up, but we couldn't hear you- only the sound of explosions. Please tell me those weren't the sound of explosions?" Zeb's voice crackled over the com.
"Well, um, funny story…" Ezra joked, despite the severity of the situation.
"Ezra! You were meant to call if something went wrong!" Hera chided.
"Got a little preoccupied." Ezra shuddered, still watching as half of the ship melted away into the distance.
"Are you okay?" His master's voice came through. Ezra opened his mouth to reply, but at that precise moment, Vizago's voice came echoing round the corner.
"Sorry- can't talk." Ezra mumbled quickly before disabling his com and shoving it back into his pocket. Just in time too, for Vizago rounded the corner and, in a fit of rage, shoved Ezra up against the wall. His feet dangled.
"YOU ARE NOT TO DISOBEY ME EVER AGAIN!" He roared, "When you feel this-" He slammed down on the shock button, "-you do exactly as I ask. You're not some hero! I can- and will- make this a whole lot more painful on you, boy." Vizago threatened as Ezra shook with the force of electricity being torn through his being. He yelled out in pain, trying with all his might to get rid of the arm holding him down.
"I hope you've learnt your lesson, Jedi" Vizago spat, dropping him to the floor and marching off. Ezra slumped on the floor. Pain was all he could focus on. It was so intense- he just wanted it to stop. With a grunt, he tried to push himself up, but his arms gave way and he was left on the floor again. Eventually, his vision became blurry. He knew he was close to passing out. He was sure he hadn't even moved an inch. Every instinct he'd built up over his years on the street was screaming at him to find cover, become less vulnerable, but the blurriness took over and soon all he saw was darkness.
Kanan didn't like this- not one bit. He'd awoken with a smile on his face, remembering the fact he'd been able to see his padawan. Of course, his expression had darkened when he remembered the wrist cuff. He figured it was about time he updated Hera- and maybe the rest of the crew- on what he knew about Ezra's current predicament.
He'd gone about his morning with a persistent feeling of rising dread, like something bad was going to happen. It had him on edge for the rest of the day. In fact, Hera had just called him into the cockpit to ask about his unusual jumpiness, but before they'd had a chance to even start talking, their coms had started up. Strangely, it was the sound of static that first filtered through. Then, suddenly, loud bangs of some sort… Explosions!? It seemed to be peppered with plenty of gunfire and yelling.
It was hard to make it all out over the bad communication line. With some tracking, Hera found it was coming from none other than Ezra's com.
Of course.
Kanan's bad feeling was starting to make sense.
"Ezra? Ezra are you there?" Hera had tried to call down the com, but there had been no reply. Still the same sounds dragged on. A particularly bad explosion made the com vibrate on the table.
Whatever was happening did not sound pretty.
As they listened, horrified but unable to stop, Kanan thought he could hear Ezra's voice, something about… 'helping them'? He wasn't sure, and the words were followed with an oddly strong fizzle of static.
After far too long, all became quiet. They could just make out what sounded like heaving breathing, a gruff voice and then all was quiet again. Hera picked up the com, trying again.
After the conversation with Ezra, Kanan had sat back, rubbing his hand over his face as he tried to pull together the pieces of what they knew about Ezra's situation. Ezra had sounded awful, and Kanan was sure he had sensed pain through their bond. It was times like these that Kanan just wished he could… cocoon the kid, hide him from the world. He knew that wasn't possible, especially not when the kid wasn't even on the ship!
Hera and Zeb sat by the silent com, both looking deep in thought. Kanan supposed there wasn't going to be a better time to tell them what he knew, and so they whiled away the evening discussing everything Kanan had learned from his dreams. It was a lot to explain, and most it made more sense in Kanan's head then it did out loud, but the crew seemed to believe him.
When he'd finished, Chopper immediately started beeping about attack tactics, so Kanan had to reluctantly explain the other detail that he hadn't wanted to worry them with: the mysterious complication that Ezra had mentioned but refused to truly divulge. However frustrating it was, it meant they would be- for the time being- standing back. Then again, after what he heard today, he wasn't completely sure that leaving Ezra alone was still a good idea. He suggested that the best thing they could do was hope that Ezra either got in contact through the com or with Kanan, then they could think of a plan based off what he said. With that they all parted ways for the night, each thinking over what had been shared.
Kanan stayed alert all night, hoping for some connection from his padawan. Nothing came.
After lying in bed for hours, he tried reaching out with the force himself. Their thread was clear and pulsing, although perhaps not as strong as it had been yesterday. Kanan hoped that was only down to the distance. He tried everything he could think of, but couldn't get a good grip on the kid at all. The Jedi sighed again and rolled over. This was getting him nowhere. With concerned thoughts revolving only around Ezra, Kanan slowly drifted off to sleep.
Ezra awoke groggily, his brain completely fuzzy as he dimly took in his surroundings. He was swinging, he was…
In his hammock? What had happened?
With a jolt everything shot back at once in a blur: the attack the bombs the closing doors Vizago's anger passing out…
Thinking over how angry the pirate had been made him grimace. It was eerie. Then he remembered the brief call he'd had from the Ghost crew, and how great it had been to hear their voices.
Hadn't one of the pirates thanked him too?
He wracked his brain, trying to make sense of all the jumbled memories in his head.
The chilling yells of desperate men echoed through his head, and he fought to shut them off before the dead feeling of guilt inside could grow.
Strangely enough, one memory he definitely didn't have was one of making it back to his 'room'. He highly doubted he'd somehow managed to crawl here. That meant that… someone else brought him here?
Either that or he was a very good sleep walker.
With a half-smile Ezra tried to lift himself up. His head and body did not appreciate the movement at all and he very much felt like just lying here forever. He half-stretched a few muscles, trying to find where he'd been hit. He was surprised when he found his shoulder no longer felt like it had been ripped to pieces; he had been sure at the time he had broken it, but now there was only the smell of medicine rub wafting off his skin. Other than that- definitely a few nasty bruises. He also had what felt like the aftermath of a concussion. But with all things considered, he was, somehow, still in one piece, and that was something he was grateful for.
That could be enough.
Despite his entire being screaming at him for rest, he got up. He figured that they must be getting close to their destination by now. Walking out of the cargo bay, he couldn't help but notice that the ship was a lot quieter. There were still obvious signs of damage carved into the ship's walls, and Ezra had to doge live wires which dangled from the ceiling. Even without the physical signs, the recent attack was written in the faces of Vizago's crew (or what was left of it, at least). There was definitely a more tense atmosphere on the ship. Wanting nothing more than for this all to be done with, Ezra made his way to the cockpit. He was determined to show Vizago that he was not afraid or threatened by him.
The quiet, strained atmosphere seeped through into the cockpit. Most of the remaining crew were gathered there, monitoring screens or playing a roughly set-up betting game. Ezra recognised the game immediately from his days on the street (he also picked up on the fact that the guy on the left was cheating). Vizago saw him approaching and waved him over, looking much more calm then he had a day ago. Ezra breathed in, composing himself and placing on the mask of indifference which he had mastered in the past.
"Jedi, we are coming close to our destination. You must understand that when we get onto this planet it is vital that you stick right beside me and the cargo. No matter who's in the firing line, we have to make it through, understood?"
"Understood." Ezra confirmed, slightly startled by the pirate's intensity.
"Keep a low profile- at least at first. Alerting everyone to your abilities might not be the best way to start. To help with that, you will wear this." Vizago tossed a plain cloak in Ezra's direction. It was a rough cloth material, but would conceal his identity well enough.
Ezra looked out the vast window to the fast-approaching planet. "What's this place called again?"
"Tatooine."
They both looked out to the dusty yellow planet in front of them.