Ezra flew at the inquisitor, somersaulting over them, and landing on his feet easily. The inquisitor had only the time to spin to face him when a golden blur came hurtling toward their neck. They caught the strike, shunting it to their right and riposting, only for that to be met with a block of Ezra's own. The teen, moving on instincts drilled into him relentlessly by Maul, followed up the block with a riposte of his own, twirling away when the inquisitor stuck out their blade towards his chest. The inquisitor was about to begin an attack sequence, but was forced to break it off when Ezra flew at them once more.
He was just as fast the second time around, and the inquisitor, much to their frustration, was defending instead of attacking. They used both blades to block the teen's strikes, their weapons colliding with harsh, short cracks and fizzles. The sounds of their blades and the flashes of red and gold drew the attention of several imperial and rebellion troops, yet most gave the combatants a wide berth. Ships were taking off in the distance, the inquisitor noted, but the honor of killing Ezra Bridger would more than make up for not catching them. The inquisitor, distracted by their thoughts for a moment, found Ezra's blade dangerously close to their neck once more. They caught the attack, this time sending a kick to Ezra's stomach. The teen, surprised by the unexpected vector of attack, went skidding back a few metres.
The inquisitor took the lapse in Ezra's defense and ran with it, deactivating their second lightsaber blade and sprinting forward to deliver a sweeping slash to Ezra's waist. The teen caught the attack, directing the offending blade upward, and for a brief moment the inquisitor saw the teen's face; their hood had obscured it, but now the inquisitor saw Ezra in his new, dark glory. His skin was paler than the picture his dossier showed, and his hair had the same midnight blue hue. His eyes, however, unsettled the inquisitor: they had a yellow ring around the iris, contrasting with its natural blue colour. Their discomfort was only heightened by Ezra's bared teeth.
Within a second, though, the red light of the inquisitor's lightsaber blade wasn't illuminating Ezra's face. The teen spun away like he had all the times before, and this time the inquisitor was determined to get the better of him. They raised their lightsaber to execute a savage overhead cleaving movement down the center of Ezra's head, only for the strike to be met by a fast, equally savage slash of Ezra's. Their blades locked for a moment before Ezra jumped back and, almost immediately after, somersaulted forward to attack once again. The inquisitor parried the simple, crude strikes easily. Ezra twirled away, flying at the inquisitor again. They blocked the next series of attacks with similar disdain, but found, after several more passes, a realisation creeping into their mind: the teen was using Form VII, Juyo.
He had only used the most basic sequences so far, and his blows might have been crude, but the mere fact that he was using the form was what shocked the inquisitor. Where had he learnt it? The holocron from the temple on Malachor V? One inquisitor had survived their time there, and had reported a bright, purple flash from the top of the temple shortly before the rebels left. The holocron was the most likely reason, yet there was another: Darth Maul. That would've been worrying He may have been at large, but there was no way…
The inquisitor was forced the break off that train of thought as Ezra came forward with another Juyo sequence, slashing viciously at them. Each strike was met with cool parries by the inquisitor, who began to see desperation creep into Ezra's movements. They were getting slower, sloppier with each strike. And finally, with a cruel, vindictive smile across their face, the inquisitor parried a slash meant for their collar bone and followed it up with a lightning-quick disarming movement. They then ignited their second blade, and with a vertical flick of the wrist sent it towards Ezra's crotch. The teen jumped back, and the inquisitor prepared to deliver the finishing blow... yet they weren't able to.
Ezra's right leg went rocketing towards their shins once more, with the inquisitor avoiding the blow with a simple upward hop. By the time their feet hit the ground again, Ezra had stood up. Another kick came hurtling towards their head, which they ducked under. As soon as Ezra's leg touched the permacrete of the ship lot turned battlefield the inquisitor reversed their grip of their weapon, driving it toward Ezra's heart. The teen twirled away as the inquisitor attacked again. He back flipped away a moment later, narrowly avoiding the inquisitor's following strike, a cleave that went diagonally downward from his right shoulder to his waist.
"Why do you insist on fighting? You are outmatched!" They shouted, to which Ezra lowered his hood and shrugged his cloak off his shoulders. The inquisitor saw his attire; he wore a simple pair of black pants, a shirt that was a slightly lighter shade than his pants, and black combat boots. Without his cloak on, the inquisitor saw the rising and falling of him chest and the sweat he'd built up over the course of their duel as it gleamed from the light of Sereno's primary. Along with everything else, Ezra also had another lightsaber hanging from his waist; it was angular with a mix of blacks and grays, with a guard above the ignition button. Again, the inquisitor was surprised. A second blade could've been used to employ the Jar'kai techniques… if Ezra even knew what that was. Even more questions were created from the inquisitor's observations, all of which they pushed to the back of their mind.
The battle had died down, and most rebel troops had fled back into their base and into the transport ships their cell was using to evacuate. The inquisitor and Ezra, however, were staring each other down with equal hatred in their eyes. Ezra reached out a hand, beginning to call his lightsaber to his hands when the inquisitor caught it, shouting once more.
"Why do you?!" They screamed, voice shrill. The exasperation they felt was only exacerbated when Ezra began to reach for the other lightsaber one his belt. A moment later the inquisitor ignited Ezra's lightsaber and threw it at him. The blade spun horizontally in the air, with its owner ducking under it, missing the blade with only centimetres to spare. Then, when it began flying back to the inquisitor's hand, Ezra shot up. With adrenaline pumping through him, Ezra dove after it, fingers wrapping around the handle a second before it would have been out of reach. Grinning at his victory despite the awkwardness of his movement, Ezra scrambled to his feet, only to see the inquisitor's armored frame flying toward him. He raised his lightsaber just in time to intercept the inquisitor's cleave. There was a crackle as the two plasma weapons collided, and another as the inquisitor ignited their second blade and flicked it vertically upward and Ezra parried.
The teen's satisfaction had faded along with their grin as they jumped back from a follow up attack by the inquisitor. He ducked under another attack and sent a sweeping to kick to the inquisitor's legs. His leg hit home, buying him time to backflip away, putting a dozen metres between him and the inquisitor. They growled primally and activated the blade-saw function of their lightsaber. The two lightsaber blades rotated around the circle that surrounded their lightsaber's handle. They soon became blurs, and the inquisitor advanced slowly towards Ezra, knowing the teen could not counter the function. Ezra closed his eyes, gathering his energies. The inquisitor got several paces closer to him.
The roar of a ship's engines, though, drew the attention of both combatants; a repainted CIS shuttle flew over the inquisitor. It made a beeline for Ezra and the inquisitor, to whom victory had seemed certain only moments earlier, broke into a desperate sprint. Ezra realised that, at their pace, the inquisitor would mince him if he didn't do something. Frowning in concentration, Ezra, after a moment, stuck out his arm. The inquisitor sensed the attack a moment before he released the telekinetic energy. Caught off guard, the inquisitor flew back, lightsaber flying from their hand. They righted themselves in the air and landed on one knee, skidding a few metres back. The called their lightsaber to their hands, igniting it and looking up.
Yet, by that time, the shuttle had allowed Ezra to board and was flying off. The inquisitor watched the shuttle leave Sereno's atmosphere, letting out an animal cry of rage that echoed widely. Breathing heavily, the inquisitor looked around them; bodies littered the landscape, and small inset were already swarming over the dead bodies. After a few moments to calm themselves somewhat, they reached out with the force, searching for signatures in the rebel base. They found two dozen. Good, the inquisitor thought. They needed something to take their anger out on.
Ezra leaned back against the wall of the CIS shuttle, letting a breath enter and exit him. He'd collected his traveling cloak before boarding the rebel transport, and found the garment was good at making people not want to talk to him. Many did, however, stare. Oh, did they stare.
Ezra didn't blame them; he'd been reported missing for two years, stealing a rebellion ship in the process. He was a ghost. He should have been dead; the rebels probably had a grave for him. He was certain the crew of the Ghost had likely already mourned him as if he were dead.
And then he came flying back into the Alliance's hands, the catalyst for a narrow escape of one of their cells. He'd went toe-to-toe with an inquisitor, saving a familiar-looking mandalorian. He knew what he'd done would probably spread throughout the Alliance as soon as the shuttle touched down on a rebel base. He could hear Sabine's voice in his head, shocked and determined.
"Y-you're back…. Where have you been?! We thought you were dead!" Ezra also recalled Zeb's voice, too.
"Karabast, kid. You've been missing for two years. Where the hell'ave you been?" Hera's voice, motherly and bewildered, rang through Ezra's mind.
"Ezra… where have you been? You go missing for a day on Lothal and I worry about you, and now you just disappear from the face of the galaxy for two years? We thought you were dead…"
Ezra shook his head, silently cursing his master for giving him this mission in the first place. Then the thought hit him - truly hit him - of what he'd be encountering when or if he got to Yavin IV: Kanan Jarrus.
Ezra cringed internally at himself. He'd realised that reconnecting with Kanan again would be something was likely within minutes of receiving this assignment from Maul - even shared his worries with his master - but the zabrak had come back with the same line every time: "Does this mean you believe you aren't up to the task for this assignment?" To which Ezra's answer was always no. Maul couldn't doubt him. He had an apprentice before, too; were they culled because of weakness, or the stability the zabrak had mentioned? Either way, Ezra had no idea, and he realized now that Maul had no idea of what he should do - or he did and was withholding as another test. Ezra resisted the urge to punch something.
He raised his head, fighting through the stiffness that had developed in his neck during his musings. He frowned, scanning the interior of the CIS shuttle; he could have used a seat (there was open near the end, after all) yet it was, conveniently, as far away from the other rebels as it could be. A hint of amusement showed in Ezra's eyes for a moment before they settled back into a neutral that matched his face. Most of the rebels had fallen asleep, using the seats to awkwardly do so. All save one.
This rebel was the mandalorian Ezra had inadvertently saved. Their armor was made up of plates that covered their chest, shoulders, and knees. A skin-tight suit under said plates that seemed more designed for comfort than anything else with a tan combat boots completed the outfit. Ezra rolled his eyes as they approached him. Vanity was something he found stupid; it attracts attention. That, presumably, with the state the galaxy was in, wasn't something you would want. But, as Ezra had seen multiple times over, many disregarded that kernel of knowledge.
The teen made himself a stand a bit straighter as they got closer. He tried to send them the message he didn't want to talk, but they didn't get the message, it seemed, as they eventually stood across from him.
"So, who exactly are you?" they asked, crossing their arms. Another hint of amusement passed over Ezra. Who did they think they were, questioning him? He could kill everyone on this ship in a matter of minutes. Yet, responding would help his reputation within the rebellion (which was already shaky).
Finally, Ezra responded. Not with words, but a simple lowering of his hood. The mandalorian across from him felt her jaw become loose behind their helmet: they were looking at Ezra Bridger. Cautiously, they took off their helmet.
The face of Ketsu Onyo with shock in her eyes stared at Ezra unabashedly. Ezra's eyes twinkled with amusement for another second, though it went by so fast that Ketsu questioned if it ever existed.
"Surprised?" Ezra asked her, his tone even. Ketsu gathered herself, a glare replacing her surprise.
"Shut up." she snapped, "And yes, I am. You were declared dead a year ago, and now you're talking to me." Ezra nodded in understanding to that.
"So I was officially dead on arrival when I got here, then?" Ketsu shook her head to the pun, a playful smirk crossing her features. Ezra didn't reciprocate it.
"Where have you been?" the mandalorian asked him. Ezra didn't hesitate with his response.
"Its personal." he said cooly, causing a raised eyebrow from Ketsu. "Where are we even heading, anyway?" he followed up, eager to direct the conversation away from his time on Dathomir. Ketsu's expression remained curious for a few moments before her face went to a neutral, mirroring Ezra's.
"Chopper Base," she said matter-of-factly. Ezra silently cursed himself and his luck. He forgot about that place. If he was going to meet the Ghost crew, the base they'd themselves set up would be the place.
"That's good," he said, though he sounded as if he was just told that Empire Day had come early. Ketsu nodded, and after a few more moments of awkward silence between them, she turned away from Ezra and headed to the cockpit, leaving the teen to his own thoughts.
However things at Chopper Base would go down, Ezra doubted that his friends would react well.
Again, not much to say to you guys. I just hope you enjoyed the read. Any and all reviews/follows/favorites will be duly noted. - Raging Celiac