The bath was ideal for smoothing out Ezra's aches and pains from being crammed into Cloudbreakers for weeks. After climbing out of the bathtub he found a package of clothes had arrived and already been placed on his bed. A fascinated Genet kept poking at the crinkly paper with a paw.

Ezra opened it up to find a white tailored jacket that came to mid-thigh and fastened down the chest with a row of black-and-gold clasps. The black pieces gleamed so finely they resembled gems rather than standard buttons. There was a pair of creased brown trousers, short brown boots, and a long narrow piece of dark red fabric.

This last item caused Ezra at least twenty minutes of frustration as he wrestled with it, trying to figure out how to wear it. Eli finally arrived and much to the Jedi's gratitude, explained him that it was a sash belt meant to be wound around the waist twice and then tied off on the left.

Ezra still wished Eli could go with him and begged the ex-Imperial to attend the dinner. Eli laughed, though kindly.

"No thanks. I've been to enough fancy parties and shindigs on Coruscant to last me a lifetime," he chuckled. "Besides, I wasn't invited. It wouldn't be protocol to show up unannounced."

"Even if we were attacked?" Ezra asked. He was on the other side of the painted mural dividing the room as he finished knotting the sash.

"If Vagaari slavers attempt to invade this planet in the next three hours, the cruiser ships will cut them to ribbons. Sorry, Ezra."

He heard the young Jedi give an exasperated sound through his nose. Then he pushed the mural aside and stepped forward. "What do you think?"

Eli said nothing as he starred at Ezra from across the room. Coruscant elite had ways of tilting their chins and narrowing their eyes while sarcasm dripped off their lips. Arrogance oozed out of every pore of their bodies.

There was not a trace of that self-absorbed pride in the young Jedi's expression. If anything, Eli thought he looked humble to the point of self-condemnation.

"Hold your head higher," he instructed Ezra. "And look me in the eye. If you shuffle in like a scared skittermouse, the Chiss will see that as a sign of weakness, or worse, disrespect."

A thoughtful expression crossed Ezra's face as he absorbed the other man's advice. He closed his eyes as he squared back his shoulders and straightened his spine. Then he opened his eyes to face Eli.

"Much better," he thought. Ezra had grown another inch since arriving to Csilla but the white jacket had been tailored perfectly to his athletic figure. His fingernails and face had been scrubbed clean and his blue-black hair was brushed off his face, bound into a single tail at the nape of his neck. There was a frankness in his blue eyes, an aura of honesty and sincerity that Eli had seldom seen in other people.

"He could pass as a junior senator," Eli realized. "Or even a Mid-Rim prince."

"Good?" asked Ezra.

"More than good. You'll be fine. The rest is just basic etiquette: no elbows on the table, slurping your soup, or interrupting other people with a mouthful of food. Think you can remember all of that?"

Ezra smiled faintly and his posture relaxed just enough to show he was getting into the role. "Yes."

Eli patted him reassuringly on the shoulder. "One last thing. Confectioneries and rare drinks are served at the end of formal meals. Chiss tastes are different than ours so go easy on dessert. Some of those treats are so sweet and spicy they'll knock your teeth out."

"Got it."

A-A-A

The central color in the dining hall was yellow, evident from the sun-colored tapestries hanging on the walls that depicted native birds and flowers of Csilla, as well as the golden tablecloth before them. The table was set with blue and gold-rimmed dishes, sparkling glasses, and polished silver utensils.

Ezra recognized the chewy green noodles served in broth that had become one of his favorites. There were new foods too: thinly-sliced meats cooked in rich red sauces, savory fried dumplings filled with vegetables, mashed tubers topped with melting butter, bowls of orange rice sweetened with fruit juices, and more. Ezra was careful not to put anything bigger than a forkful of food into his mouth in case he might accidentally spit out something.

The food was good but that was all Ezra could compliment on. Admiral Ar'alani and seven members of the Fourth Family were seated at the head of the table while he had been banished to the other end. From the moment they had taken their seats no one had uttered a word to him or made eye contact with him, not even Admiral Ar'alani.

They conversed among themselves in Chenuh and acted as though their guest wasn't even present. Towards the second course Ezra wondered if this scenario had been a prearranged test how their Jedi guest would handle being snubbed. He decided it was and chose to stick it out by remaining mute, only opening his mouth to eat or drink.

That still didn't make the evening easier. He was bored and lonely.

After more than an hour he was getting fidgety. The jacket was squeezing his shoulders and he longed to change back into his more comfortable uniform. Ezra couldn't wait to leave these pinch-nosed Chiss and go back to his dormitory where he could play with Genet or do his lessons with Kyler and Ranu. The other two junior fleet members had been treating Ezra with civility after their encounter with the snake and had soon thawed into relaxed trust. Perhaps friendship was not far off.

Ezra had been pushing a dumpling back and forth across his plate when the servant came back to clear their plates for the final course. Finally, this dull meal would end soon.

As Eli had said, small plates of pastries topped off the meal. Like the other Chiss around the table, Ezra's dessert had come with a red lacquered cup filled with the fragrant herbal brew they drank often. It wasn't kaff but the taste was growing on Ezra. Next to his elbow appeared a slender crystal glass filled with a pale golden liquid.

Ezra eyed it with intrigue. Was this alcohol? He instantly thought of the time he was ten years old and had pickpocketed a stranger's flask of apple brandy on Lothal. The brandy tasted so sweet that Ezra had greedily gulped it all down and then spent the rest of his week sick in his tower.

Where Jedi forbidden to indulge in spirits? Or would it be permitted for social and diplomatic reasons? Surely one wouldn't want to offend a host by turning it down. Ezra glanced across the table where the other Chiss were drinking from their glasses.

"Come to think of it, I've never seen Kanan drink. Not even once," he realized. The Jedi knight did admit to Ezra that drinking had indeed been part of his daily (and nighttime) routine as a self-pitying man who bar-hopped his way through the universe. His confession perplexed the padawan who couldn't imagine his self-restrained master touching a single drop.

"But that was another life," Kanan said gravely. "I knew I had to get myself straightened out if I wanted to be part of Hera's crew. With her help, I did."

He had turned his head in Ezra's direction and added, "If you ever feel yourself falling into despair, reach out to me. Reach out to your friends. Reach for the Force. But never reach for a bottle. Once you pick it up, you'll never want to let go."

With a mixture of restraint and curiosity, Ezra brought the glass to his lips and took a small sip. He tasted tartness and then a hint of smoky flavor fanned out across his tongue. Not bad. Ezra swallowed and felt the cool drink slid gracefully down his throat and unspool itself in his stomach. Tendrils of heat crept back up his chest, releasing tension in his limbs. Ezra felt his entire body begin to relax.

"So this is what a drink does do you," he thought.

The presence of two more people caused everyone else to cease talking. Ezra watched Thrawn and Ashray enter the room. Thrawn bowed to the other Chiss while Ashray curtsied politely. One of the ruling family members gestured for Thrawn to take a seat among them, which he did. Ashray slid into a seat next to Ezra.

The young woman wore a dress of black silk embroidered with small gold flowers around the hem and collar. Square-cut red gems glittered in her ears. The warm spicy fragrance of her perfume swept over Ezra's face and tickled his nose. His muscles instantly bunched up.

"I hope you have been enjoying yourself this evening," Ashray said to him.

Ezra felt a mixture of relief that someone was talking to him at last and concern that his behavior would be further scrutinized. "It's been nice," he stated flatly.

Ashray tilted her head towards him causing one of her earrings to wink in the light. Ezra's face grew warm and he added, "You look nice too." Kriff, should he not have said that?

She gave him a pleasant smile. "Thank you."

The cordiality in her tone motivated Ezra to ask in a lower voice, "Do you know what they're talking about?"

"Not yet." She made a show of selecting a pastry filled with blue cream and Ezra noticed how Ashray took her time sampling it while keeping her attention on one of the tapestries instead of her fellow Chiss.

She dabbed at her lips with a napkin then spoke softly to Ezra. "They are discussing engineering. Mith'raw'nurodo has been supplying the defense fleet with information on Imperial technology. They want to integrate some of those devices into our own ships."

"Like the TIE factory on Lothal," Ezra murmured allowed. Seeing Ashray's puzzled expression he explained further. "Imperial TIEs are similar to your Cloudbreakers. Thrawn was operating a top-secret factory on my homeworld to design and produce TIEs with effective shields. My friends and I in the Rebellion kept watch on Lothal until we were able to launch an attack on the factory."

Ashray cupped her beverage in her hands and sipped at it. "Unless there are copies of his information elsewhere in the Empire, these new TIEs won't come to production, will they?"

He felt one corner of his mouth perk up into a smile. "Nope."

But Ashray did not return the smile. She put a finger to her lips and then listened to the rest of the conversation from the other side of the table. She translated for Ezra.

"Some members want Mith'raw'nurodo to be integrated back into the fleet. But Admiral Ar'alani and some of the others do not trust him with military command again."

"I agree with her," he spoke out.

The thought justice crashing down upon Thrawn's head was not an unpleasant scenario. Ezra was still determined that Thrawn would have to face his crimes. Yet something itched in the back of his mind, an opinion half-formed cautioning Ezra about this line of thought. Perhaps because he was still considered a guest and outsider among the Chiss, it would not be his call to decide Thrawn's future.

"Commander Bridger," said one of the Chiss, finally addressing him.

Ezra straightened up in his chair. "Yes, Lord Nirasu?"

Lord Nirasu spoke in a louder voice so all could here. "Mith'raw'nurodo claims his knowledge of Imperial warfare could potentially be assimilated into our fleet. What do you think of that impact on your education here?"

The young Jedi placed both hands on the table. "I don't see any conflict. Your fleet must do as it sees fit," he answered the Chiss evenly.

Nirasu's eyes narrowed at their guest. "Then you would not be distressed to use your enemy's technology in combat?"

He shook his head. "It happened often in the Rebellion. We had limited resources and if it meant using surplus or stolen weapons from the Empire, we modified them to our needs," Ezra explained. "Some of our ships were even refitted from the last conflict in our part of the galaxy."

"The Clone Wars," Ar'alani suggested. He nodded respectfully to her.

"But Jedi are said to be peacekeepers," Nirasu insisted. "How can you justify engaging in open warfare? Isn't that hypocrisy?"

His question hit Ezra like an invisible fist into his chest. Nirasu made it sound as if the Jedi were criminals for taking affirmative actions. How could he, or any of these Chiss, understand what it mean to be constantly under the Empire's rule? To live in constant fear that an informal comment uttered or a miscounted crate would endanger your life.

Angered simmered within Ezra. These blue-skinned people who had created a secure thriving civilization had never witnessed the terrible things Ezra had seen in his young life or known his frustration of being a helpless child, lost and abandoned without his parents. Nor had they known what it meant to be Caleb Dume, on the run and marked for death, at the age of thirteen.

No sooner had Ezra thought of this then Kanan's calm wise face materialized into his thoughts. For all of the losses he had suffered, Kanan had never forsaken his duty as a Jedi or his allegiance to the Force. He knew that if war had brought misery to innocent lives, a Jedi was obligated to take up his lightsaber and bring them out of danger and into freedom. A Jedi must not charge recklessly into battle, of course, but go forth with levelheadedness and good judgement.

"It's not whether or not we fight," Kanan had said. "But how we chose to fight that matters," Ezra had completed his sentence.

"Commander Bridger, we are waiting for your answer."

Ezra gazed at Nirasu, then Thrawn, and finally Admiral Ar'alani. He began to speak slowly, his words building with firm resolution.

"I am sure that when worlds are not fighting with each other, the Jedi would do everything possible preserve peace," he began. 'But when war exists and nothing else can stop its destructive path, a Jedi cannot stand idly by and watch innocent people be harmed, or even killed. We also have an obligation to help others and restore balance in the Force."

The last word all but leapt out of Ezra's mouth.

"The Force," Nirasu murmured. "This enchantment power you poses. You also channel it through a sword composed of supernatural light, correct?"

"I wouldn't exactly call it 'enchantment'," he defended himself quickly. "And I left my lightsaber behind on Lothal."

Ezra caught a glance at Thrawn and recalled how the Chiss had commanded him to leave his sacred weapon behind and surrender himself to the Empire. Thrawn was now watching this interrogation unfold, his face a mask of blue stone and his fingertips laced together.

"You could easily forge a new one couldn't you?" argued another Chiss.

Nirasu added, "And if you do create mystical weapons, how do we know you will not us them to attack us?"

"That's not what I said," Ezra protested. "Why would I want to hurt the Chiss after you've let me join the junior fleet?"

"You nearly killed Mith'raw'nurodo," Nirasu remarked.

"I was trying to get his ship off Lothal! He was shooting on people in the streets!" Ezra nearly shouted. His voice bounced off the walls and through the room that had just become eerily silent.

His throat contracted up with frustration. Damnit, could he stop making things worse?

Ashray's voice flitted up, gentle and musical, for all to here. "Perhaps the Jedi should show us some of his other abilities." Everyone looked at her including Ezra. She continued, "I have witnessed those results in the Atrium."

"What do you mean?" Thrawn asked.

"Whatever he touches flourishes."

"Kriff," Ezra thought.

Dozens of red eyes were now fixated on Ezra so hard he was sure they'd scorch him if they had the opportunity.

"Would you clarify Syndic Ashray's words?" Ar'alani said.

He rubbed his sweaty palms on the tablecloth. "It's nothing, really. I've been tending some of the plants in the Atrium and they're doing well."

Nirasu's eyes narrowed into red slits. "Who gave you permission into that room?"

"I don't know," he confessed. "I found an access card delivered to my door with the entry codes several days ago. So I thought it would be all right if I went inside during the evening hours. Digging in the soil helps me concentrate while I'm listening to my lessons on audio chips."

"So you took the access card without knowing who it was from? Why didn't you investigate?"

Dumbstruck, Ezra's head jerked back to Thrawn. The damn Chiss didn't so much as smirk or reveal a muscle twitch to give himself away. He was observing Ezra with usual cool detachment. Karabast, had he stooped low enough to set the Jedi up?

Or was someone else the culprit? Ezra turned towards Ashray. She looked bewildered as he did. But was she playing along by using a façade of innocence?

"This is highly unconventional," said another female Chiss. "We do not permit newcomers into the Atrium so soon."

"Forgive me, but has Commander Bridger violated any of our laws in entering the Atrium with proper codes?" Thrawn inquired politely. "I see no potential harm in granting him this permission. It is the Atrium we speak of, not our weapons factories or power stations."

Ezra's impatience had been stretched thin as a piece of elastic. He was sure he would snap if they provoked him any longer.

Right. Screw politics.

He seized the fluted glass and promptly tossed his head back. Ezra forced the drink down in two long gulps and nearly sputtered from the impact. By the time his glass was back on the table, the waves of heat surging through his body had stirred up a wonderful confidence that loosened his tongue.

He pushed his palms on the table and rose up from his seat.

"Why don't we all go to the Atrium right now?" Ezra offered.

A-A-A

Csilla, the Atrium of a Thousand Stars

Warm and exuberant with newfound energy, Ezra walked alongside the Chiss while rambling aloud.

"My master Kanan Jarrus told me that Jedi used their abilities in different ways. Some channeled them into healing powers to aid the sick and wounded. Others helped farmers to grow crops," he rattled on.

They were all intrigued, if not mystified, as Ezra strode up to the Atrium doors and punched in the proper codes. One of the silver doors opened with a crisp snapping sound, just enough for Ezra to open it widely. A'ralani gestured for him to lead and he stepped into the Atrium with everyone following after him.

At this point he didn't care. He had nothing to hide.

"Here we are," announced Ezra, coming to a halt on the stone path. He pointed to a clearing where a grove of omba-stalks rose up from the ground. The plants Ezra had worked on were a shade of darker green compared to all the rest. And they were a foot or two higher in size. But otherwise, the Chiss noticed nothing of the ordinary.

Nirasu asked, "Have you been using your Jedi powers on our foliage?"

Ezra shrugged. "All I've been doing is weeding and watering."

One Chiss drew closer and ran her finger down the stalk. "It does look healthy," she declared.

Ezra wanted to say that he had enjoyed the scent of dirt, letting his fingers slip through the damp moist soil after touching the smooth surfaces of computers and data files. The earth was indeed a living object full of microscopic beings and he had savored this fascinating connection to the Force, however mundane. But they'd probably accuse him of creating an army of plants and flowers to conquer Csilla.

The thought was so ridiculous that a laugh bubbled up inside Ezra and he almost chocked trying to suppress it. The Chiss didn't know how amusing they were by scrutinizing such a silly matter.

Nirasu murmured something to Thrawn and then the other Chiss while Ezra wiped his forehead with his wrist. The drink was starting to make him woozy and the solar heat of the Atrium deepened the sensations.

Ar'alani also took a moment to examine Ezra's handiwork. Then she turned to face everyone else. "I see nothing supernatural here. It is logical that the vegetation would improve with attentive hands." Her tone was free of accusation, a balm on Ezra's rattled nerves.

It was even more pleasant when Ashray spoke up again.

"Admiral A'ralani and Ruling members, may I have your permission to allow Commander Bridger to escort me back to my chambers?"

"You are permitted," said one of them.

She curtseyed to them. Ezra followed with a bow, doing his best to hide his relief.

"Thank you, Admiral A'ralani. Thank you, members of the Fourth Ruling family, for the privilege of an evening with you all."

He lifted his blue eyes to them and tried to keep his mouth steady. "It's been an enlightening evening."

A-A-A

The cool air in the hallways fanned Ezra's flushed cheeks. He nearly tripped over his own feet when they rounded a corner. Could one drink throw him this far off-balance?

He waited until they were a good distance from everyone else and then he started asking Ashray questions. "What was that all about?" he demanded. "Why'd you bring up my work in the Atrium in the first place?"

She blinked coolly at him. "Their questions appeared to make you uncomfortable. I intended to steer the accusations away by focusing on your other abilities."

Some of the blood receded from Ezra's face. "Well, thanks…I guess. But I still don't know who gave me access codes."

"It wasn't me," she insisted. "I don't have the authority to do so."

Ashray paused and then suggested, "You think it was Mith'raw'nurodo?" Ezra nodded. She said, "But why would he want to endanger your reputation?"

"Maybe my demise will help him get back into the fleet," said Ezra.

"How so?"

Ezra massaged his temples with his fingers. He was trying to think logically, to remind himself that Thrawn was a master strategist who placed people in circumstances that benefited him. Could it have been his intention to make Ezra fight for his place among the Chiss only to use him as a scapegoat in the end?

No, that couldn't have been it. But his mind wasn't able to pursue this riddle any further right now. He needed a splash of cold water to focus.

"As I said before, the Ascendency is conflicted on his future. That is why he was allowed to join the table only towards the end of the meal," Ashray explained. "It is a demonstration that he is not fully accepted into their circle just yet.

"And you can't join a full meal either until you're adopted into the Fourth family, right?" suggested Ezra. She nodded in agreement. "Then where do you usually eat?"

"I take my meals with other candidates or in my room."

He shook his head in disapproval. "It just seems wrong to me," Ezra confessed. "Where I come from, having dinner with your family is natural. You spend time with people you love and care about. We laugh and joke and have a good time. It shouldn't have to be a strict test of approval."

"Perhaps you will see differently after the Fourth family permits me to join them," she offered. "And someday we will both sit around their table as equals."

"Perhaps," he relented.

"I am sorry that you did not enjoy the meal. But I hope that the décor was to your liking."

"It was beautiful," Ezra said. "What do you call those yellow flowers?"

"Aurum blossoms. They are cherished for their practical uses. The petals can be dried for making tea while the stalks make an anti-inflammatory medicine."

"Wow." Ezra was impressed. "I hope I can show them to Sabine someday. She'll love to paint a mural of them."

Ashray's smile froze upon her lips. "Sabine. Is she the Mandalorian you spoke of before?" she asked in a cooler tone.

Ezra nodded. "She's a gifted artist. And you should see some of her explosive work! We had a lot of crazy adventures fighting the Empire together."

A cloud had crossed over Ashray's face. "Is she beautiful?" the Chiss demanded.

The question startled him. Ezra thought of the day when he was a fifteen-year-old street thief who had leapt up into the Ghost and into the faces of the crew. He remembered that impish teen who was smitten with Sabine the moment she removed her helmet.

"Yes," he said with a grin. Unaware of Ashray's scowl, Ezra went on. "She's also one of the bravest people I've—"

"—more beautiful than any other woman you've known?" Ashray interrupted harshly.

It was Ezra's turn to frown. Why should Ashray ask such a question?

Ashray's mouth was still turned downward. "I suppose your Mandalorian would be considered superior to others," she retorted dryly.

Ezra could taste the bitterness in her comment. "Hold on a second. Sabine's had her own fights to overcome. Her clan branded her a traitor and she chose to leave her family to keep them safe."

"How unfortunate," said Ashray. Her voice dripped with such disdain that it compelled Ezra to reach out and grip her shoulder with his hand. Ashray glanced downwards for a moment and then up at Ezra's angry face.

"There's no need to be rude to someone you haven't met," he persisted.

Ashray shrugged his hand off. "Perhaps you'd prefer Sabine's company to mine. Or is she your betrothed to defend?"

"What?! No way!" Ezra exclaimed. "We're not betrothed." Kriff, she was acting poisonous as a thunderwasp!

The young Jedi's brow scrunched up as he mentally went over their conversation. "Are you...jealous of Sabine?"

Ashray huffed. "As you said, I've never met her."

"Then why are you acting strange?"

"I'm not," she replied icily. "Why do you care?"

"I care because she's my best friend."

The Chiss' scowl halted. "Best friend?" she repeated.

"Yes. We've grown together over the last few years and I trust her with my life," Ezra all but snapped at her. "So I won't let anyone disrespect her."

"Oh." Astonishment briefly flickered over Ashray's face. Then her features relaxed and she sounded relieved. "My apologies, Commander Bridger. I meant no harm to you or your Mandalorian."

"She's not my Mandalorian!" he blurted out. Ezra nearly smacked his forehead in disbelief. What was wrong with this woman?! One minute she was being civil to him, then looked ready to order the Chiss fleet to attack Mandalore, and suddenly everything was fine again! He had a lot of questions for Eli the next time they talked.

Finally, at long last, they arrived outside of Ashray's rooms.

"Well, here you are. Have a good night, "Ezra said stiffly.

He started off but hadn't gone more than four steps when Ashray spoke behind him. "A moment, Commander Bridger."

He whirled back on her. "Yes, Syndic Ashray?"

Ashray extended her hand to him, fingertips pointed downwards.

"You may kiss my hand," she offered primly.

Ezra starred at her hand and then her face. The alcohol in his bloodstream combined with the stressful evening flared up with indignation. He had put up with far more than he could usually tolerate in one night. Maybe it was the giddiness from the drink. Maybe it was Nirasu or just Ashray and her damn pride and words. But he wasn't going to grovel before the Chiss any longer.

Ezra strode back towards Ashray but instead of taking her outstretched hand, he gripped her by both shoulders. The young Jedi pulled her up against him and then tilting his head towards hers, pressed his lips to Ashray's mouth.

The ground rippled beneath Ezra's feet as a new song of mystery coursing through his bloodstream from the kiss, echoing in the dark blood pumping deep within Ashray's own veins. Her body struggled for a flash of a moment before stilling within his embrace. Loose strands of her hair brushed over his cheeks and his lungs drank in the scent that clung to her skin. Her bare shoulders were cool to the touch but her lips were wonderfully warm, almost feverish with heat.

It had been but a fraction of a second yet it was seared into Ezra's mind as he broke off the kiss and drew back from Ashray. Her red eyes were wide with bewilderment, her lips parted as a small sigh escaped them.

Then Ashray shook herself into awareness. Her eyes flashed at Ezra like firelight flickering across gems and she struck him on the face. Her palm grazing his cheek didn't hurt much but it did rattle his senses.

She cursed something in Chenuh and then strode into her room, slamming the door behind her.

Ezra stood outside her room, rubbing his face thoughtfully. Her blow barely smarted. But his lips still tingled from the energy of their kiss.

What a night. He was certain there would be consequences in the morning.

As soon as Ezra got to his own room, Genet leapt towards him and wound himself in and out between Ezra's ankles. The tooka sniffed the air, intrigued by the new smells coming off Master. Genet smelled food, flowers, and something else, a wild and raw scent that Master never emulated before.

Ezra bent down and picked up the tooka. "I hope you're not expecting a good night kiss either," he warned Genet.

The tooka happily licked him on the nose.

A-A-A

One day later:

Eli didn't intend to burst out laughing when he heard about last night's fiasco but it was inevitable. "You're full of surprises, Ezra!"

"Stop talking," the teen groaned. He was sitting on the medical table in Mikh'al's lab with both wrists pressed to his forehead. "Ugh, it feels like an astromech is banging around inside my head."

"Step aside, Commander Vanto." Doctor Mikh'al appeared in an instant and all but pushed Eli away. He took Ezra's pulse, looked inside his mouth, and flashed a tiny sharp light into the Jedi's eyes. The last action caused Ezra to squint and scowl.

"Increased sensitivity to light and and dry mouth," said Mikh'al aloud. "Any other symptoms you've been experiencing?"

"I feel like the room is spinning."

Mikh'al slipped the ophthalmoscope back into his lapel. "Hangover," he concluded. "How many drinks did you have?"

"Just the one," Ezra muttered. "And that's one too many for me."

"It was his first time having tozar wine," Eli told the doctor.

Mikh'al frowned briefly. "Tozar takes time getting used to. But you're not in any danger. I'll inform your instructors to grant you two rotations of absence just to be sure. In the meantime, you must drink plenty of water and get enough sleep."

"Thanks, doctor. But is there anything else to make this headache go away?"

"I'll prepare an oral remedy for you now." Mikh'al headed into the adjacent room where his laboratory was kept.

Alone again, Eli leaned against the wall and casually folded his arms across his chest. "So...Ashray," he said at last.

"I don't understand her, Eli," the young Jedi confided. "One minute she acts like she wants to be my friend and the next she treats me like dirt."

"Ashray's probably just as confused as you are. She isn't considered a member of the Fourth Ruling family right now but has to behave as though she is," explained Eli. "Meanwhile, she meets a Jedi of lore who doesn't care about her status. I'll bet she wants to get to know you better while toeing the line of what the family permits her to do."

"So, what you're saying is she's got a lot of contradictions," suggested Ezra. Eli nodded, causing Ezra to moan. "Why does this have to be so complicated?"

"Women are complicated. They're some of the greatest mysteries of the galaxy."

"I'll bet you never had this problem in the Imperial navy, did you?"

Eli shrugged nonchalantly. "Not in the way you think I did. When I was stuck being an ensign for years, women of society barely spoke two words to me. By the time I finally got to be a lieutenant commander their flattery was worthless."

Seeing Ezra's forlorn expression, he went on. "No worries. They weren't my kind of people anyway. But about Ashray getting mad about this Mandalorian…"

"Yeah. What was that all about?"

"Okay, here's one galactic secret I'm going to share with you Ezra: girls compete for your attention," he stated. "When you're with a girl, make her feel like she is one of the most beautiful beings in the universe. Focus on her, not other women. I'm sure your Mandalorian is a good friend but when you're with Ashray, she doesn't want to hear you praising another girl to the sky. Makes sense?"

Ezra rubbed the nape of his neck. "I think so."

"Let me show you." Eli tossed a hand through the air and pretended to converse with an invisible person. "Oh, you mean Lady So-and-So? I suppose she's tolerable to look at. But I hardly notice her," he drawled in a bored voice.

Eli switched to a warmer voice and starred at the open air as though looking into a woman's eyes. "But enough about her. Let's talk about us. When I am with you, it's wonderful as if I'm basking in the light of a radiant star."

Ezra's mouth fell open with awe. "That's incredible."

"That's Hezkiah's Holonet Starry-eyed Tips," Eli told him. "I've had to listen to every single one of his 200 recordings while on the Chiamera. When you're all better, I'll share the rest of my family's campfire stories too."

"Can't wait to hear them," said Ezra. Eli gave him an affirmative clap on the back and left the medical bay. Mikh'al returned from his laboratory carrying a beaker of something red and fizzy for Ezra.

"Here," he instructed the Jedi. Ezra took the glass and swallowed a mouthful.

"Yech!" he gagged. "It's disgusting."

"It will restore lost fluids and nutrients. Now drink it all," Mikh'al commanded him. Beneath the Chiss doctor's scrutinizing eyes, Ezra complied by tipping his head back and finishing the contents of the beaker. Mikh'al rewarded him with a glass of water to chase away the bitter aftertaste.

"Before you go, I have something else for you."

"A shot?"

"No." Mikh'al bent over and pulled out something from a lower shelf. "This I found in our texted archives."

He handed Ezra a heavy book bound in black leather and stamped with silver spirals. Two silk ribbons trailed down the front of the book. Ezra thumbed through the pages, admiring the exquisitely-painted illustrations of rocks, crystals, and gems.

"Kyler mentioned that you had an interest in geology from your previous expedition," explained the doctor. "I thought this could help you with research. Or if there is a particular item you are looking for, perhaps our science department can help you locate it."

Ezra looked from the pages up to the young Chiss man. Mikh'al had shown no-nonsense mannerisms since the first time they met and treated Ezra with the same formality as all of his patients. Yet this gesture deeply touched him.

"Thank you, Mikh'al. This is thoughtful of you."

Mikh'al attempted to brush off the gratitude with a shrug. "It's logical. The Ascendancy has invested in your career here so I see it beneficial to assist you."

His blue eyes widened with surprise. "What about your own career, Doctor Mikh'al?"

Mikh'al's mouth twitched. "What about it?"

"I don't mean to pry. It's just…I know you're smart and talented but you're also a junior medical officer. You're obligated to stay here on Csilla, aren't you? I was told the only time you left was when a rescue team was quickly put together to find Thrawn and myself."

The Chiss hastily busied himself with arranging some instruments on his table. "True, other senior physicians were preoccupied with the fleet and I was able to come on such short notice. But I do not understand why you take an interest in my future."

"Like I said, you're good at what you do. I'm curious to know if this is where you want to stay or if there's something else you see in your future."

Mikh'al turned back to face him, a polishing cloth in one hand and a syringe in the other. "If you must know, my ambition is to join the fleet as a fully-fledged medical officer and journey across the galaxy someday," he admitted at last.

Ezra's eyes lit up with interest. "Really?"

Mikh'al nodded. "With scientific knowledge constantly evolving, I want to know what other worlds are out there in the universe. Surely there can be better remedies growing on planets, safer and more effective surgeries to learn from other physicians." His red eyes were bright with awe. "Who knows what fascinating things I could learn among the endless stars?"

But then the light in his eyes died away and Mikh'al looked calm and detached again. "Yet that day may be long far off. With this Galactic war occurring in your part of the universe, our ships have been ordered not to journey too far beyond our regions."

"My friends are fighting to end this war once and for all," Ezra assured him. "And I'm sure someday you'll be able to fulfill your dream of seeing the rest of the galaxy. Trust me, there are many amazing things for you to learn."

"Really?" Mikh'al was intrigued. "Do you mean scientific discoveries? Or the heritage of the Jedi?"

"I don't see why they can't be the same. I guess if science is about understanding life, the Force is about understanding its purpose." Ezra held up the book before Mikh'al. "I'm looking for a rare type of crystal that emulates a special 'sound' for a person to find it. If I find one, you'll be the first to know."

The young Jedi's optimism rippled off him like a ray of first sunlight and Mikh'al realized he was not immune to it. "I look forward to it, Ezra Bridger."

"I'm glad." Ezra got to his feet, the book in hand. "And I also want to thank you for saving my life on board the Saffur. I would have died on that planet without your help."

"Yes, I know."

Ezra smiled and shook his head. Mikh'al, always the practical one in the end.

"Now I insist that you go to bed," he announced. "Another expedition is underway for next week that will go into the catacombs within the Gyron mountain ranges. Your presence there is mandatory so you must be in peak shape."

"Ma'rabif is leading it, right?"

"Yes. With you as his co-captain," said Mikh'al. It was Ezra's turn to look surprised and Mikh'al's turn to smile. "He insisted that you assume some of the team's responsibilities. Perhaps this trip could end up with you elected as new captain."

"Or it could end up in a fight."

"That is a possible outcome. A sleeping draught could find its way into his canteen but we both know that would be immoral. Therefore, I can only prescribe common sense and composure when dealing with Ma'rabif."

"I'll follow your instructions, Doctor Mikh'al. And this time I'll make sure our equipment is tested thoroughly before we leave," Ezra promised with a grin.

"Thank you, Ezra. May your next trip be fortuitous and free of reptiles."

A-A-A

Weeks later:

Commander Eli Vanto's schedule had to be divided effectively between his own duties in the senior fleet and other responsibilities. Time for leisure or recreational activities was limited but appreciated, such as the moments he wasn't instructing Ezra. For now Eli was content to tell him some of the myths that circulated around Lysatra.

They were in the dining hall for junior officers, sitting on opposite sides of the table. Ranu was there too. She was intrigued by Eli's tales of the supernatural and then confounded when Ezra smoothed out the exaggerations.

"I've never heard of a weapon called a 'kyber saber' before," admitted Ezra. "It would be pretty heavy if the entire blade was made up of one giant crystal."

"What would be the point of building a weapon that would be useless in combat?" demanded Ranu.

Eli shook his head. "Like I've said before, Wild Space life can get quiet or even dull at times. The stories probably grew bigger over centuries."

"But that doesn't mean a 'kyber saber' doesn't exist," Ezra suggested. "I've been told there's always a bit of truth in legends."

"Then maybe you can tell me where this next legend came from." Eli wiped his mouth with a napkin and began his tale.

"Thousands of years ago, the prince of a noble planet was approaching his eighteenth birthday. Instead of throwing him a lavish banquet as they had done for every year before, the king and queen chose to bring their son before the Mirror of Oceans."

"Stop," interrupted Ranu. "Where precisely can a 'Mirror of Oceans' exist? How can more than one ocean occupy the same space while containing massive quantities of water? Wouldn't it become damaged from salt erosion?"

Ezra struggled not to laugh from her questions. "I think Commander Vanto means the mirror is a metaphor," he said.

"A metaphor. Right." Eli went on. "The prince was dreading to see this Mirror, which was said to reveal one's own personality. Cruel and greedy people were consumed by their vices. Arrogant people fell victims to their pride. Even those who strove to do good found themselves bewildered by the mirror's strict judgement. So the prince spent three days and three nights in his room in silent mediation, preparing himself to face the mirror.

"When he did, the Mirror of Oceans asked the prince what he desired most of all. The prince gazed into his own reflection and saw the all the things he craved: prosperity, honor, power, and glory. But then he begged the mirror not to give him any of those gifts.

'Why not?' the mirror bellowed to him.

'Because none of those gifts will make me a good leader for my people', he continued. "Great Mirror, if you must bestow me with something, let it be that which I need and not that which I want. I implore you to grant me a present that will humble me in my hour of pride and raise me up in my hour of melancholy. Something that will inspire me to become the best man I can become be during my brief lifetime as a mortal."

'You have spoken well, young prince', said the mirror. "Walk the length of my shadow three times."

"Three again. Why always three?" Ranu begged.

"Metaphor," Eli reminded her. "So the prince walked up and down the length of the mirror three times and when he had completed the task, he watched his reflection in the mirror begin to move of its own accord. The hand reached out to him and behold, a human being of flesh and blood stepped out of the mirror and into the prince's world.

"This is your companion, a being of life who is your brother in all but blood," said the mirror. "He will be your opposite and equal. He will sharpen your mind and challenge your wit. He will bring you comfort when you are cast down and he will remind you of your mortal shell when you become too proud. When you are bright as the sun, he will glow gently as the moon.

"The friend shook the prince's hand and together they returned to his kingdom. His new ally was indeed what the prince needed and many times he sought his friend's advice on difficult matters.

"The prince soon became a king who led his people through difficult times of war and famine, then into peace and prosperity. He married and raised a family. Never once did his friend leave him, until the king rested upon his deathbed and thank his companion for his guidance. When the king finally passed away and his subjects wept, his friend walked back into the Other Realm and vanished into the Mirror of Oceans."

Eli concluded his story. The two junior officers were silent and spellbound before him.

That night Ezra collapsed into his bed and instantly fell into a deep sleep. Sometimes he dreamed he was back on his homeworld, riding a Loth-wolf through the tall green grass and listening to the wind whistle songs into his ears. Sometimes he was on the Ghost starring out into the endless realms of stars or meditating quietly on Yavin Four.

Sometimes the dreams took him back to Tatooine where he walked forever across the sandy dunes. Though the twin suns beat down upon his head, he didn't feel pain or thirst. He would continue his trek until he saw someone standing on the horizon starring up at the red-and-white burning suns.

It was not Maul or Master Kenobi; that must Ezra knew. Yet the stranger never turned around to face him. Ezra would call out to the stranger, try to run across the dunes, but he always woke up before the person fully turned his head around to face Ezra.

He would wake up and instantly forget the dream. It had been swept away as one grain of sand buried beneath millions of others in the dunes.

A-A-A

Genet knows her as "Ash". The other blue-skinned ones have a longer name for her but to Genet she is Ash because that is easy.

Ash wears something shiny on her forehead and dresses make swishing sounds wherever she walks. Her smell is unique, a combination of that which she is and that which she applies to her skin. It is not an unpleasant smell. It lets Genet know when she is near.

He knows when she opens her mouth she can make peculiar but nice sounds come out of it. But first she must eat a stick of wood halfway and only then does she make the sounds. They have no scent but they fascinate Genet. It is not like the sound of a ship's engine, a person talking, or the quietness of an empty room. It is something new to Genet's senses. Master calls it "Moo-zik."

Genet is allowed to join Master in the big garden sometimes. Once he goes in on his own because the door is open and there is Ash and her moo-zik. He walks up to her and sits on his back legs, listening to the sounds.

She stops making the pretty sounds but smiles at him. Ash reaches for his head and Genet's nose follows her hand until her fingertips land upon his brow. She strokes the fur between his ears and his spine nearly melts from her touch. It is oooh, so very nice! He is pleased with Ash.

Ash takes a box out of her pocket and offers something to Genet. He sniffs, licks it, and eats it up in one gulp. Fish! It is rich oily fish cut into strips and flavored with salt. It makes Genet's mouth water and when Ash tosses him another piece, he catches it in his mouth. She gives him four more pieces of delicious fish and smiles at him.

The next time he sees Ash, Genet runs to her side and sits eagerly, waiting for more fish. She shows her empty hands to him but he licks one of them anyway.

Master arrives. His entire body tenses when he sees Ash and when he speaks his voice is strained. Ash also does not sound right. They are being strange. Not their usual selves. But their scents have changed as well. Genet wonders why Master does not take Ash as a mate when his scent clearly tells Genet that is what he wants.

Ash speaks and her voice is sad. Then there is the word "no". Genet's ears droop; he knows this is a hard word. Master also looks sad, but he goes up to Ash and extends his hand to hers. Genet knows she will not lick his hand but he is surprised when Ash puts her hand into Master's own. Their fingers close around each other and again, their scents have shifted.

Ash comes closer to Master and Genet watches her put her lips to his cheek. Genet saw his former master and mistress do this sometimes and knew it means they are happy and like each other very much. It is very sudden and Ash steps back and it makes Master's face turn red. But he smiles and rubs the back of his head. He liked it. Genet can tell.

They are no longer being strange. Their voices relax as do their bodies and they talk some more. They are standing very close to each other. Master finally picks up Genet, who has been feeling neglected all this time, and holds him to his chest. They take turns petting him until it is time to leave and then Genet is carried out of the garden by Master.

He already misses Ash. Master should mate with Ash. That would be good. Then they can both take care of Genet and feed him.

Fish is good. Almost as good as meat.

A-A-A

WEEKLY REPORT: TRANSMISSION 390 SIGMA

Sent from: Commander Eli Vanto, Honorary Officer of the Chiss Defense Fleet

Sent to: Admiral Ar'alani and Commodore Hikkaro

BEGIN TRANSMISSION

Item one – Our astronomer team has confirmed unstable lighting storms off the Northern Breach in space. Now we know what has been causing disruptions with our communications in the fourth sector. All hyperspace routes around the Breach have been discredited for now and anyone caught attempting to reach the border will be severely punished.

Item two – The Ascendancy has been informed of the ongoing Imperial demand in doonium. They are looking for a suitable alternative with similar properties to doonium. I have composed a list of two dozen abandoned mining moons for their approval.

Item three – Commander Bridger passed his self-defense and combat stimulation classes adequately. Request he be advanced to Level 8 circuit training.

END OF TRANSMISSION

A-A-A

Personal journal of Eli Vanto, hand-written

Now that I've gotten my professional work out of the way, I can kick off my boots and relax in my room. I'm stretched out on my bed and looking out at the recent blizzard that's roaring outside my window. This city doesn't have as many skyscrapers as Coruscant to block out the view so I have a front-row seat for tonight's show. I feel like I'm inside a snowglobe.

Funny how something that looks harmless can freeze you to death.

But I'm comfortably warm in my private quarters and have no desire to go outside. I've also got a bottle of tinn, a Chiss drink that tastes enough like beer for me not to miss Lysatra (too much).

As you may have guessed, I left a lot out of my log because I didn't want Admiral Ar'alani misinterpreting my words. Writing them down for myself helps me think it out so that I won't open my mouth and stay something stupid.

Thrawn's "Jedi project" has been going on for almost half a year. Ezra's progress has been a gradual but steady journey uphill, which is fine with me but I have a hunch some Chiss are still disappointed with him. They've heard the stories and must have expected Ezra to move mountains instead of trekking inside them.

I honestly don't want to believe Ezra did all the things that Thrawn finally told me he did by summoning space monsters that obliterated star destroyers because it scares the life out of me to think he's got that power still lying dormant inside of him.

"Ezra Bridger is aware of his abilities but he refuses to use them on moral grounds," Thrawn reassured me. That still didn't stop my hair from standing on end.

But I have to wrap my head around this logic for two reasons.

First, Thrawn's no liar.

I may not know everything that goes on inside that brain of his but I've worked with him enough to know how it works (mostly). He'll use deception or misleading information to outwit an enemy but he won't straight out tell them he'll attack at night when he plans to attack at dawn. It isn't his nature.

So if he says Ezra took control of an Imperial ship then I must believe Thrawn. I also believe anyone he recruits was picked for a reason, myself included, so if he sees Commander Bridger as benefiting to the Chiss in the long-run then he must have an endgame planned. I wonder if it has anything to do with his philosophy after Outbound-*next part crossed out and erased*

Second, Ezra's no idiot. Even with the vomiting tooka.

I know, sometimes he still looks like a puppy-eyed homesick kid. But not as often as he used to. In spite of challenges he hasn't tried to escape or throw in the towel. He keeps moving forward and I think he's determined to show the Chiss that he can prove himself, Jedi or not.

For example, the other week everyone was on break between sparring matches in the dojo. Most of them were enjoying cool drinks and talking among themselves. But Ezra sat there in a corner on his knees without moving for almost half an hour.

Why? Because he was meditating. If Ezra was in the Imperial Academy he'd be laughed out in an hour. But he explained to be afterwards that it improves his ability to fight by not fighting all the time and taking the space to "center yourself". His words, not mine.

Ma'rabif tried to make fun of him but when he attempted to sneak up on Ezra, the kid went from sitting to rolling aside before Ma'rabif could make a move. He was annoyed and demanded Ezra teach him this technique. Ezra agreed and now some of the other junior officers are meditating between lessons, sitting on mats with their eyes closed. (They only take a few minutes in case the teachers get suspicious.)

I told this to Thrawn and tried to put a positive spin on it that Ezra was catching up just fine with his peers. "Catching up and advancing ahead are two different things," he said. "He must exceed all standards if he is to be accepted by all Chiss."

"How do you think he'll do that?" I asked him. He said he didn't know yet but it would require the approval of the Ascendancy to make a "public demonstration".

No wonder I've got the feeling something bigger going on here. I can't put my finger on it but I wonder if Ezra Bridger is holding back, willingly or unwillingly, from unleashing his full potential. Is he afraid of it? Or is he waiting for the right time? And if he does have this great power again, will it change who he is? I hope not. But I'll just have to wait to find out. I've been misled about legends before—I won't make the same error twice.

So here we are, living on the edge of the universe. Training, preparing, learning, and waiting. Waiting for the lightning storms to obliterate our blockade. Waiting for the Vagaari army to launch a full-scale attack. Waiting for the Empire to arrive in this corner of the galaxy.

Nightfall's approaching and the watchtower lights have been switched on for incoming ships. My hand's starting to get a cramp so I'm going to stop here.

A-A-A

Personal journal of Eli Vanto, hand-written

Things just got a little more interesting.

Ezra now comes on my "milk runs" not because he's lonely but because he's interested in meeting other people and finding out what's going on in the rest of the galaxy. This last time "Kay" assisted "Calcifur" in getting better generators and then Ezra was off on a personal mission to find a power cell.

He didn't tell me what it was for but he insisted on a specific model usually designed for droids and spent nearly two hours rummaging through the station. I could smell the greed coming off one seller who tried to convince Ezra that he sold the best power cells, but only at six in a pack.

I was ready to get him to drive down the price when we got distracted by a ragtag auction going on. They had already sold off a genuine Mark-10 speeder and a pair of exotic birds when Ezra nearly dragged me towards it to see what was being offered next. The smuggler in charge held up what looked like an antique glow-wand to me but Ezra looked ecstatic.

He told me it was a lightsaber.

Ezra begged me to pool all our money together but the bid was too high and it went to a bounty hunter in the back. I had never seen him this relentless as he chased her down. She would've brushed him off like a fly but he nagged so hard she relented at last to let him hold it.

I thought it might cheer Ezra up but then he shouted loud and clear, "This isn't a real lightsaber!"

The smuggler was pissed and told him to shut up. But Ezra kept insisted it was missing the proper crystal in the center so the bounty hunter opened it up to see. Sure enough, there was just a solar disk inside: the cheap kind used in portable lamps.

"You take me for a fool!?" the bounty hunter screamed. She threw herself on top of the smuggler and it all broke out into fisticuffs, half the people punching each other's guts out and the other half egging them on. I managed to pull Ezra out of the fight before his teeth got knocked out and we dashed towards our ship. I managed to throw down some credits and grab a box of power cells on the way out.

Once airborne I told him how sorry I was that it wasn't a genuine lightsaber but he didn't seem too upset. I'd like to think the new power cells had something to do with it.

Then Ezra showed me what else he had found on the station in a scavenger's shop. Wrapped inside a blue cloth were three small statues about the size of our palms. They were carved out of black stone and the edges were rounded, so I'm guessing they're pretty old.

"Mortis gods," Ezra told me. He looked very serious as he spoke. He tried to explain to me that they were ancient beings that were avatars of the Force but I zoned out a bit at this point. Fairy tales are one thing but this was too cosmic for my understanding.

All I could admit was that one of them looked like the shape of a woman and the other two like men. Ezra told me they were the Son, Daughter, and Father, all responsible for harmony in the galaxy emulated through light, darkness, and balance. I felt my stomach doing flips but tried to keep my cool when I asked if he had ever encountered them. I was relieved when he told me no, but that he had seen a mosaic of them once.

Ezra respectfully set them up on the dashboard and there they stayed for the rest of the trip home. I felt they were watching us the entire time.

A-A-A

Ezra sat on the floor of his room in front of a small table. A late afternoon sun hung in the purple sky outside his window while Genet dozed on his bed. Now was the ideal time for him to begin.

He had draped a clean sheet over the table before arranging the statues of the Mortis gods on top. Next to it was a tiny potted fern he had been given for his work in the Atrium. Ezra added two candles on either side of the table and lit the wicks. He watched the light from the candles flickering off the shiny surfaces of the Mortis gods.

Now for the final touch. Ezra reached into his pocket and took out a chunk of amethyst-colored stone. He had found it during the junior fleet's mountain expedition and taken it back with him. The stone's craggy shape reminded him of the elusive Force-wielder Bendu who had helped him and Kanan on Atallon. Ezra set the stone in front of the Father figure and took a moment to admire his handiwork. Then he set down the box of collected metal pieces before the makeshift alter.

Ezra folded his legs beneath him, placed his hands upon his kneecaps, and closed his eyes. He saw only darkness behind his lids and allowed his mind to unwind, to let itself become clear of all other thoughts. His conscience slowly slipped away, drifting away from Csilla's snow-capped regions and into the depth of space.

Ezra's breathing began to grow deeper and slower. He felt the shape of his lungs alter as he drew air into his body and then let it out between his lips. In and out. Back and forth.

Light and dark. Balance. The Force.

He imagined himself standing in a field on Lothal. The grass brushed against his legs and smelled sweetly of springtime. Ezra knelt down onto the ground and pressed his palms to the earth, sensing every tiny living thing growing around him. A green daisy was pushing up from the ground and it bent towards him in the wind. People said if you lay down on the grass and a green daisy "kissed" your nose, it was a sign of good luck.

As he floated within the cool green bubble of serenity, Ezra could hear the click-click-clicking sounds of metal pieces moving against each other. He knew the items he had been collecting were no longer resting in their box but hovering before his closed eyes. He could feel them defying gravity, being held in space by his will of the Force.

A sudden thrill swelled up in Ezra, causing the pieces to still. No, he must control himself. Not get too excited. He focused again on Lothal's grass and the other green daisies rising out of the ground. The metal pieces responded to his thoughts, floating back into the air in endless circles. One piece, a metallic casing, slowly eased itself into an electric bolt.

Yes, yes. This was good. "Show me what I need to do," Ezra thought.

Something was forming in his thoughts, a piece of information to complete the picture. Ezra kept half of his mind focused on Lothal while the other half floated to the surface of his conscience, reaching out towards the image. Its cloudy edges were become sharper, more focused as he drew towards them.

It narrowed within Ezra's grasp when Genet's sharp bark shattered into his thoughts.

Ezra's eyes snapped opened to see the tooka had pounced upon the table, knocking over the candles and Mortis statues.

"What?! No!" he cried out. His concentration broke apart and Ezra saw the metal pieces clatter to the ground. He rushed forward to put out the candles before the cloth caught fire. Exhausted from his Force connection, Ezra collapsed forward on all fours. "I was close," he groaned aloud. "I was so close!"

He forced himself back up and saw the messy table with candle grease spreading everywhere. Genet was on top, yapping and running in a circle. Raged burned through Ezra. He snatched one of his boots and hurled it towards Genet.

"Stupid tooka!" he shouted. Genet dodged out of the way and rushed under the bed like a streak of gray lightning. The boot made a loud clacking sound when it hit the wall and then it fell to the floor, leaving a noticeable but harmless stain on the wall.

The anger bled out of Ezra as quickly as it had come in. He knew Genet hadn't intended to distract him, and he had gotten much further than he had anticipated in a long time. But it was still so difficult at times, struggling to make sense of his place here and straining to become one with the Force again.

Ezra crawled on hands and knees towards his bed. "Genet?" he asked softly, bending underneath. A pair of eyes glinted out from the darkness.

It took nearly half an hour to coax Genet out from under the bed. When the tooka finally emerged, Ezra scooped him up in his arms and held him tightly to his chest. He could feel Genet's small body still quivering all over.

"I'm sorry Genet," he apologized. "I didn't meant to scare you."

Genet licked Ezra's face in a gesture of goodwill. The Jedi's heart pulsated with a rush of emotions and he buried his face in the tooka's warm fur.

A-A-A

Four rotations later:

"Where do you come from and what is your occupation?" Kyler asked.

Ezra was standing on his head with his feet in the air. He was attempting to use his body, "activate the core" as the Chiss described it, to remain upside down in the same position for as long as he could. To make it more challenging, Kyler was firmly pressing down on Ezra's feet.

To make it more challenging he was being quizzed on Chenuh.

Ezra could feel the blood rushing into his head as he spoke their words. "Eshua'n tuu Chandrilla eth..." He paused. "Vivol'nah koram."

Ranu snickered from her chair. She watched Kyler apply even further pressure into Ezra's heels.

"What? I said I'm a fisherman from Chandrilla!" His legs wobbled as he spoke.

"You said, 'I'm a boat'," Ranu corrected him. "It's 'koh-rahm' for 'fisherman'. Not koram. Do you hear the different pronunciation?"

"I, I think—woah!" Ezra lost his hold and felt his body flip forward. Face, torso, and legs would have come painfully crashing down. Mercifully, he steadied his body enough to land on the carpeted floor and the pillow Kyler had set down ahead of time cushioned Ezra's head.

He flipped himself right-side up and rubbed his forehead. "Maybe I shouldn't try to multitask."

"I agree. Neither of us want you to get a cracked head," said Kyler. "Let's take a break before trying something different."

"Good idea. How about a game?" offered Ezra.

"A game?" Ranu tried to hide her dissapointment. Games were for children. Nevertheless, she watched Ezra take out a wooden hexagonal-shaped board from his satchel and listened further while he showed her the small round wooden disks painted in different colors.

"This isn't just any game. My friend Ahsoka used to play crokin with her friends when the Empire took over the farming moon she was living on. The farmers couldn't make plans in secret case they were discovered and arrested by stormtroopers. So they'd use crokin as an excuse whenever they got together at the local cantina to make plans."

Kyler was interested. "So playing crokin detoured the Empire from interfering with them?"

Ezra nodded. "It's good for practicing strategy too."

Ranu starred greedily at the board. "How so?"

Ezra set up the board and arranged the mounds of colored disks around pegs. "There's two objects of the game: one is to get your discs to the other side of the board. The other is to knock out as many of your opponents' discs from the board." He used a wooden prong to flick a yellow disc into the air. It knocked into a blue disc that toppled off the board.

"So it's a combination of luck and skill," concluded Kyler.

"Yes. And the stakes get higher too. Ahsoka taught me that even if pieces are removed from the board, that doesn't mean they're officially out of the game or harmless. They can still pose a threat to you."

"How?"

"Like this." He stacked four yellow discs in one corner of the board. "If you knock out four of your enemy's discs, they reenter the board as a 'tower'. In other words, they're regrouping themselves into something stronger." He slid the stacked discs next to the blue one. "A tower is harder to knock off the board and can block you from moving ahead."

Ranu was ecstatic now. "I'll go first," she announced.

Within the hour she had beaten both of them twice. Kyler won the third round and Ezra won the fourth. "You shouldn't hold back," Ranu chided him.

"Who said I was holding back? You're just naturally good at this game," he said.

"I know you can do better," Ranu insisted, stacking up her pieces again. "Every time we've gone into the mountains with you we've come back with more than enough findings and nobody's gotten hurt."

"That's because everyone works well together in a team."

"And because you're a good leader who pays attention to the safety of everyone around you," Kyler said. "It's those qualities that the fleet takes notice of."

"Speaking of the fleet, what's Outbound Flight?" Ezra asked. Ranu's discs clattered loudly back onto the crokin board and Kyler frowned. He looked at one Chiss and then the other. "What's wrong?"

Ranu and Kyler glanced at each other. Ezra's eyes shifted away. "I'm sorry. I didn't know it was taboo. I just thought it was something Eli had mentioned before."

"Outbound Flight is a classified military report," Kyler said at last.

"Oh." Ezra looked disappointed.

"But Ranu is an adequate slicer," Kyler went on.

"Me?" she pointed to her chest.

"You're even better at computer programming then you are at crokin. And besides, I've wanted to know about Outbound Flight for a while. I know you have too, Ranu."

"Now's a good time?" Ezra asked him. "Aren't you worried about being caught?"

"Not if we're all willing to share the blame," Kyler admitted. "Even if someone does find out, Ranu can write it up as a security leak that she located during her programming lesson."

"I'm ready to try if you two are," Ranu admitted. She slid out of her chair and rummaged around in her desk until Ranu found what she was looking for. She held up an old plastoid data-cube for Ezra and Kyler to see. "Our data computers are constantly running scans to detect state-of-the-art hackers. This programmer is so old that with the proper codes it can slip by security."

"Usually?"

"It hasn't failed me yet," she assured him. Her friends helped Ranu hook the wires coming out of the data-cube into her main computer and watched her click on a few keys. Because the data-cube was an older model, it took its time loading itself into the central information hub on Csilla.

Ezra knew he was taking another big risk but his burning curiosity to find out what Eli had been shunning was irresistible. The presence of his new friends gave him the confidence to pursue this riddle.

Finally, after a long time waiting, a hologram appeared on top of the computer. "Woah," Ezra said. "I've never see a ship like this before."

It was certainly an unusual one. Ezra could see six enormous oblong cruisers with powerful rockets on one end and narrowing to a single point on the other. Bubble-shaped windows lined the tops of each cruiser. All six cruisers were shaped in a circle and at the center of them was a huge cylinder-shaped space station.

"Ezra, do you know what they are?" asked Ranu.

"I think so. Can you magnify it?"

Ranu keyed in some codes and the ship grew larger. She worked another minute to remove the grittiness from the hologram. Ezra squinted as he studied the ship.

"They're called Dreadnaughts," he said at last. "They're gigantic, probably as big as Imperial star destroyers."

"How many people could fit on a ship like this?"

"Thousands, I'm sure. Maybe up to fifty thousand passengers by the look of it. See these beams linking the Dreadnaughts together?" Ezra pointed to a matrix of metal frames. "Those look like turbo-lifts. I'll bet it's so big you need the lift to travel from any Dreadnaught to the core."

"Looks like this was also heavily-armed," Kyler said. He pointed to another section where ion cannons were secured into the hull of four Dreadnaughts.

"But it doesn't look like any Chiss ship in our fleet. So what's it doing here?" Ranu wanted to know.

Ezra's eyes scanned over the Basic script at the bottom of the hologram. "It looks like…some kind of space expedition." His mouth fell open. "It's from the Republic!"

"Are you sure?"

"Definitely. Judging by these dates, my master was still a youngling when Outbound Flight was launched. This was before the Empire, even before the Clone Wars." Ezra read the rest of the scrolling words. "Yes, yes. It was a mission approved by the Jedi and the Senate. They wanted to explore the Unknown Regions and establish colonies beyond the Outer Rim."

He looked at them and added, "I hope it was a peaceful mission. But those weapons on board…"

"Probably for self-defense," Ranu suggested.

Kyler was dumbstruck. "So humans have reached Chiss space before," he murmured. "I've heard of a handful over the years like you, Commander Vanto, or a handful of traders. But never so many as fifty thousand."

"There's a reason for that," Ezra murmured. His voice fell as he looked up from the script. "Outbound Flight never made it to Csilla."

"What?!" exclaimed Ranu. "What happened?"

"I don't know. The rest is in Chenuh."

"Let me see." She nearly pushed Ezra aside out of excitement and took over reading the rest of the report. Ranu gasped softly.

"Outbound Flight was considered a scientific and military disaster. When the ship arrived close to a Chiss armada in space, conflict broke out between the ships. Vagaari slavers also launched an attack at the same time. Outbound Flight's weapons were destroyed along with nearly everyone on board. With the engines further damaged, it fell out of orbit and crashed into a nearby moon."

She lifted her head up. "No survivors."

Kyler had a fist pressed to his chin. "That explains why the Ascendency only wants senior officers to know. Information like this would jeopardize the entire fleet to know an armed ship along with Jedi and other human beings tried to colonize in Chiss space. They'd probably launch a preemptive attack or break out into arguments over how to proceed."

"And that's not something the fleet would approve of, would it?" asked Ezra. Kyler shook his head.

Ezra fell back in his chair and ran a hand over his hair. "I still can't believe it. Humans and Chiss made full-scale contact before. But I'll bet Outbound Flight's failure kept the Old Republic from trying to explore and learn about new people again."

Kyler asked him, "What about the Clone Wars?"

"That came several years later. The Republic's army must have been so busy fighting the local Separatists that they couldn't afford any long-range space explorations. As soon as that war ended, the Empire took its place."

He leaned closer to gaze up at the hologram. "Fifty thousand people," he murmured softly. It was unfathomable. "No survivors?" he repeated. "Any Chiss casualties?"

Ranu scrolled to the last part of text at the bottom of the report. A fresh wave of shock swept across her face and she couldn't speak for several moments. When she finally managed to speak again, Ezra knew they had stumbled across something crucial.

"There was one death reported in the Chiss Defense Fleet: Syndic Mitth'ras'safis. He boarded Outbound Flight just before the crash."

"Who's Mitth'ras'safis?" Ezra asked.

He watched Ranu exchange a silent understanding with Kyler, as though to confirm that they both were willing to share the secret with a Jedi.

"He was the elder brother of Mith'raw'nuruodo."

A-A-A

Sleep eluded Ezra that night. He lay stretched out on his bed starring at the ceiling with one hand slipped under his head for support. Genet was already curled up against Ezra and purring contently in his sleep. Ezra stroked the tooka's head with his other arm while struggling with all the newfound information he had recently unearthed.

Ahsoka once told him that only a Sith deals in absolutes. The weak perished, the strong ruled all. There was no room for doubt, conflict, or questioning the fate of the Force. You ruled by will alone—and alone was better than relying on the disappointment of others.

Being a Light-Sider of the Force was a greater challenge. You had to look at different perspectives and angles, trying to comprehend the Force through other people instead of threatening them with the blade of a lightsaber. It took patience not to make swift judgement on others and rather, contemplate the proper path to take.

Pieces of the past were forming a story in Ezra's mind, enlightening him about Thrawn's elusive past. He had revealed to Ezra that his allegiance to the Chiss preceded his loyalty to the Empire. Yet he had flawlessly served Palpatine and his troopers. Ezra wondered what had motivated to drive Thrawn up through the Imperial ranks.

He thought it was pride, then considered it was loyalty to his people. But now a third card had been placed upon the table for Ezra to see.

Thrawn had had a family. Ashray had told him that Thrawn had once been a prodigy of the Eight Ruling Family; an ideal candidate who found his way into the good graces of a generous aristocratic family. But to know that his own brother had died in a conflict that should not have concerned the Chiss was a startling revelation.

Ezra once asked Ahsoka how people could have eagerly accepted the Empire. She explained to him how worlds were relieved to hear Palpatine would shoulder their burdens after they had become exhausted from the Clone Wars and disgusted with the Senate's growing corruption and inefficiency. Perhaps some of these exploitations had existed on Outbound Flight, unknowing to the Jedi traveling on board.

Revenge was a powerful weapon and it could drive a person to obtain victory at all costs. Did Thrawn blame the Republic for the disaster of Outbound Flight? Had the loss of his family member motivated him to pour his allegiance into the Empire?

One last thought followed Ezra's thoughts into the night as he finally drifted off into sleep.

"Does he hate the Jedi for causing the death of his brother?"

A-A-A

Author's notes: If you don't know what the Kyber Saber is then you have to watch "The Freemaker Adventures". Events in this chapter were inspired from the Legends novel "Outbound Flight" by Timothy Zahn. Crokin was used in the "Ahsoka" novel by E.K. Johnston