Shili, 9 ABY
Mists drifted through the blackened forest, hugging the damp ground in the wake of a heavy rainstorm. A smattering of birds sand lonesome songs through the charred branches – a lament for their lost homes. A small rodent with cunning, orange eyes scampered over a blackened log, wasted from the conflagration. It turned its face to the sky and squeaked as it watched a red-and-white starship glide over the devastated forest. The rodent scampered away, retreating under the shade of the fallen log.
The ship soared across the valley, gliding over miles of dead forest. As it neared the heart of a valley rimmed by towering snowcapped peaks, the ship descended to the ground settling upon a flat space at the edge of a ruined, overgrown village. Moments later, the boarding ramp descended, and a Togrutan woman, cloaked in white, descended the ramp. She paused at the bottom of the ramp, allowing her bare feet to connect to the damp soil. The wind picked up, carrying the scent of burnt wood, and Ahsoka Tano turned away from the back of the ship toward the ruined village.
Ahsoka glided silently down the main street, passing the burnt, collapsed structures lining the road. Climbing vines and lush grasses entwined around the pillars and posts of the structures, and as Ahsoka passed, she imagined that she heard the distant chatter of the villagers drifting on currents in the Force. She paused before a particular structure and regarded the collapsed, fractured beams piled upon the building's foundation – the home of her mother and father. As she gazed at the ruined home, she waited for grief and sorrow to emerge, only to find a curious detachment. Her true family had never been on Shili; it had been Coruscant – the Jedi. Anakin. Obi-Wan. Padme.
Ahsoka had read the reports of what befell Shili on her journey from Yavin in between several stops at other places she had longed to visit after decades of war. Each of those places had shown their own signs of devastation, but here on Shili, the Empire had committed the same acts it had perpetuated on numerous forest planets such as Kashyyyk and Corvus; nearly all of Shili's forests had burned, and much of the population had been massacred following the Togrutan peoples' actions in support of the Rebellion. Ahsoka had missed that, too, lost in time as the war raged and the Empire fell.
She turned away from the house, following the road into the woods. After passing the eaves of the forest, the road narrowed, devolving into an overgrown footpath. She continued along the grassy path as it wove through the trees. Minutes later, she arrived at a clearing with a large mound covered with grasses and wildflowers. Atop the mound, a makeshift construction of tree branches stood. Ahsoka climbed the mound, and upon reaching the top, she saw countless necklaces, bracelets, and other jewelry hanging from the branches, bleached by the sun and the elements. She knelt, touching one of the bracelets, wondering if it had belonged to anybody who had known her. She strained to remember her village, her parents, the elders – but no memory came to her. Again, the faces of Jedi she knew arose, and Ahsoka turned away from the mound, uncomfortable to linger.
Ahsoka scanned the clearing and removed an old paper map from a fold in her robes. She examined the map, deducing her location and tracing the line of an old path that once ascended to the high peaks of the mountains around the valley to an ancient shrine. After years of disuse and catastrophic fires, the trail would undoubtedly be difficult to follow, but desire to visit the shrine and witness her first sunset on Shili in decades compelled her. Having reckoned her position, Ahsoka cut across the clearing to the spot where the trail began its climb. A large tree lay across the overgrown footpath, and she removed a lightsaber, igniting it to cut the tree away to clear the path.
Ahsoka followed the tenuous footpath as it vanished into downed trees, only to reappear meters away. Hours of difficult uphill climbing, route-finding, and tree clearing with her lightsaber drew from her strength, yet a new invigoration born from exertion and concentration cleared the sorrow and disconnection she had felt from the village. Her inspiration surged as she reached the limits of the burn scar, emerging into a quiet, shady forest with a rich understory of ferns and grasses. Water trickled from a spring in the side of the hill, and Ahsoka bent down to drink deeply. Seeing that the path was now more defined, she forged ahead, climbing ever higher.
Hours later and through a rich fatigue and soreness in her muscles, Ahsoka reached the tree line and glimpsed old stone structure jutting from the ridge a kilometer to her north. She turned to follow the path as it traced the ridgeline, arriving at the shrine 15 minutes later. The neglected structure had sprouted mosses and ferns out of every weathered crack, but its structure remained sound. Water bubbled in a spring around which a stone well had been constructed, possibly hundreds of years ago. She bent over to drink again, and when she stood upright, she saw the flat meditation stone set before the shrine. An unobstructed view unfurled before her of mountains stretching out for over a hundred kilometers toward a vast sea.
Ahsoka ran her finger over the stone, longing for rest and deep meditation. She turned to the shrine and entered, setting her bag down near an old stone bed. She unclipped the lightsabers attached to her belt and set them into a small stone alcove carved into the wall. She reached into her bag and removed a ration bar. As she rummaged, her hand brushed a metallic object. She removed the ration bar, unwrapped it, and bit into it. She regarded the metallic device and recognized it as the transponder connected to a beacon Sabine had left near the edge of the Unknown Regions. She and Sabine had sought Ezra there five years ago after Ahsoka had felt an echo of his presence somewhere in the void, impossible to place. Sabine had not given up hope, and thus she had left a beacon behind, hoping that it would inform her if Ezra would return. Upon engaging with the Outbound Project, Sabine had turned the device over to Ahsoka more as a keepsake than a hope, and Ahsoka had kept it as a reminder of Ezra.
As she held the device in her hand, she felt another wave of sorrow as she recalled the promise she had made to him in the World between Worlds. Setting the device down next to her lightsabers, she whispered, "I'm so sorry, Ezra."
Ahsoka turned from the shrine, yielding to the yearning to meditate and rest. As she settled herself upon the flat stone to watch the sun sinking into the sea, the beacon began to flash silently, its red light reflected against the walls of the shrine.
Location Unknown, 9 ABY
When you get back, come and find me!
Pain. The sensation wracked his body, and he willed his mind back into unconsciousness.
It's not about whether or not we fight. It's how we choose to fight that matters.
The pain returned, stronger than before. His head roared with agony, and even with his eyes closed, he saw flashing lights dancing through his grudgingly emerging consciousness.
Battles leave scars; some you can't see.
The image of Kanan flashed before his eyes, and he knew that wakefulness would soon follow. He dreaded waking, but even in recognizing his dread, he knew it was too late to return to unconsciousness. Perhaps death would be better.
I lost my way for a long time. But now I have the chance to change things.
He had the chance, and Thrawn thwarted him. Time and time again, he had held back. He could have murdered him at any time. And now Thrawn was gone. So was his chance.
In the heart of a Jedi lies his strength.
I wish my heart would just stop, he thought to himself. But with the thought, his eyes flew open, and adrenaline surged as he realized he was hanging against a chest restraint binding him to a chair. He groped for the release of the restraint, and pulling the metal latch, the restraints unclasped, and he tumbled out of a chair onto a cold, metal floor. He winced in pain and pushed himself up. Pain shot through his head at the effort, and he wretched against the pain, covering the cold gray floor with vomit.
He fell back into a seated position, wrinkling his nose against the smell. He looked away from the sick, recognizing the familiar Imperial aesthetic in the cockpit. He gingerly reached out toward the armrests on the captain and co-pilot chairs and raised himself back up. He pulled himself into the co-pilot's chair, which had the less precarious positioning. As he settled himself, he noticed a red light flashing on the control panel. He leaned forward through another wave of pain and pressed a button, initiating message playback.
The holoprojector flashed into life, and Grand Admiral Thrawn's face appeared in a pre-recorded message.
Greetings, Ezra Bridger. Following the incapacitation of my crew and your attempt to murder me, you have left me with little choice. True to my word, I have set you free, and you may now do what you will. Inspection of this shuttle will reveal that both the sublight drive and the hyperdrive have been damaged beyond repair. If carefully rationed, your food will last you for some time. On a personal note, it gives me great satisfaction to know that you shall languish and rot, cut off from your friends as I return to the galaxy to convey the Emperor's will.
The message cut out, and silence filled the cockpit. Ezra's disgust and rage arose, eliciting another blinding wave of pain. Ezra longed to reach out and choke the life out of the imperious monster, but he collapsed back into his chair, recognizing that his moment had passed as his body slipped back into sleep.
He moved quickly and quietly, stepping carefully over the vomit. He removed the vial from the folds of his black robe and attached the needle to the end. As the needle clicked into place, he rolled the sleeve back on the unconscious man before him. A wave of pity and revulsion passed through him –Wasted and ruined. A shell of a man. But the blood would be good, and knowing that there was little time, he rolled the sleeve back and found the vein. The pulse was good, and he plunged the needle into the vein, allowing the vial to fill with blood. With the vial full, he removed the needle and lowered the sleeve. Stepping over the vomit, he turned and left the ship.
As he stepped into the arid desert outside the ship, he thought to himself, It is done, my Master.
Good, the deep, rumbling voice replied.
Minutes, or perhaps even hours later, Ezra awoke for a second time. The pain had subsided, leaving in its place a gnawing hunger. He took stock of the cockpit, noticing that black sand covered parts of the cockpit windshield. Ezra pulled himself out of the chair, nearly slipping on the partially dried vomit. He stepped carefully over the puke, then worked his way out of the cockpit, using both hands to steady himself as he entered the cargo hold. He entered the hold and found the bulkheads above the seats. He opened a bulkhead and found a stash of ration bars. He reached into the box of rations, his resentment toward Thrawn spiking, and he removed a bar. After tearing into the bar, he felt a trace of strength returning, and determined to get a look at his surroundings, he activated the boarding ramp.
The ramp dropped halfway before bumping against an obstruction. Ezra lowered himself to all fours and crawled through the partial opening. His head emerged through the space against blinding sunlight. A cold, searing wind slashed at his face, pitting his skin with sand. He pulled himself out of the narrow opening and tumbled out onto the sand below the ramp. He looked under the ramp, noticing a large boulder blocking the ramp from fully lowering. Black smoke billowed into the clear white sky from the back of the ship, and Ezra recognized the evidence of the sabotage that Thrawn had staged to prevent Ezra's escape.
Ezra glanced around him and saw a vast wilderness of jagged, black volcanic pillars rising to equally jagged mountains cutting foreboding silhouettes against the milky sky. The air was frigid, and the wind tore through his garments, chilling him to the bone. Ezra shivered against the cold and pulled his robe closer around his body, thinking, Couldn't have picked a worse place, could you, Thrawn?
As Ezra felt the onset of a bitter rumination, a chill separate from what he felt in the air rippled through his body. He turned, feeling that something or somebody was approaching, but he saw nothing in the clearing around the ship. He reached for the lightsaber at his hip and felt a fleeting relief that at least Thrawn had left him something to defend himself with. Shimmering in the milky sunlight, a flash of gold appeared before him. The golden light coalesced into the figure of an old man, skeletally thing, with a wispy beard and a ragged cloak. He stood unperturbed by the breeze, his body translucent and rimmed with a golden aura.
"What the hell?" Ezra barked reflexively.
"Who are you?" the man asked. His voice had a hollow, reverberating quality, and Ezra had a flash of memory. A Jedi Master had appeared to him that way, and the Bendu's voice had echoed like that.
"I got the same question," Ezra warned, hoisting his lightsaber and preparing to activate it. The man glanced toward the weapon then back to Ezra, indifferent.
"I am called Armoth," the man said without additional explanation.
"I'm Ezra," Ezra replied. He took a closer look at the man, realizing he could see through him. He added, "Why are you transparent?"
"I am dead," Armoth said, spurring Ezra's wonder and confusion.
"Is this some kind of joke?" Ezra thought, wondering if this was a side-effect of Third Sight withdrawal.
"Where do you come from?" the man asked, ignoring Ezra's disbelief.
"I, uh," Ezra said, realizing that he did not know where he was and therefore could not provide a context for where he came from. "Lothal," he answered uncertainly.
"I know not this Lothal," the man said, glancing at his weapon. "And what is that?"
"A lightsaber," Ezra said, frowning. "Don't you know what a Jedi is?"
"What is Jedi?" the man asked.
"We wield the Force. We fight for the light," Ezra explained, feeling stupid as none of his words appeared to resonate with the ghost before him.
"You refer to that which we do not name," the man stated.
Ezra noted that it was not a question, and he felt both foolish and annoyed, wondering if the ghost was being obtuse. "We call it the Force."
"Naming such a thing diminishes it. It becomes a concept, and concepts become a prison for your mind," Armoth explained pedantically.
"Look, pal," Ezra said, shivering against the cold. "I love a philosophical debate as much as the next guy, but I gotta figure out how to get off of this planet."
"Surely your Force will help you," the man offered unhelpfully.
"It doesn't work like that," Ezra said.
"And how did you come to be here, Jedi?" the man asked. He remained stoic, betraying no emotion but indifference.
"Long story. A bad man marooned me," Ezra said, growing tired of the exchange. "If you have any tips on how to fix a hyperdrive, I'd appreciate the. . ."
"If you wield that which we do not name, why did you not kill this man?" Armoth asked. He tilted his head, and Ezra felt an uneasy sense of judgment.
"Jedi don't kill unless they have to," Ezra said, thinking of Kanan. "We use the Force for knowledge and defense."
"Foolishness," Armoth retorted, showing his first hint of emotion. "Knowledge and defense did not help you destroy a bad man, and now you are here, stranded."
"That's not helping," Ezra grunted in aggravation.
"And other Jedi, do they sit by and allow evil to flourish as well?" Armoth asked, his indifference laced with contempt.
"Actually, most of us are dead," Ezra admitted.
"By whose hand?" Armoth asked, becoming grave for a moment.
"The Sith," Ezra said defensively.
Armoth paused reflectively. "And do the Sith wield the Force for knowledge and defense?" Armoth asked, again adapting a condescending, pedantic tone.
"Look, pal," Ezra snapped. "If you're not going to help me get off of this dump, maybe you should just bug off."
"I have nothing to offer for one who sits passively, knowing things and defending himself," Armoth scoffed. "Perhaps these Sith would have killed your bad man."
"What the hell would you know about it?" Ezra asked, his anger flaring.
"You seek knowledge, then?" Armoth mocked. "Learn then of Ren the Great, wielder of that which we do not name. Taught me, he did. I grew powerful as one of his twelve Knights. Upon my body's death, I transcended the mortal form under his tutelage."
"That's impossible," Ezra scoffed.
"You cannot even receive knowledge. Some Jedi you are," Armoth chided. He appeared bored, and his form began to shimmer and evaporate, sparking fear in Ezra.
"Wait!" Ezra said.
"Now are we open to knowledge?" Armoth asked, his form half-vanished.
"How do I get out of this?" Ezra asked.
"Seek knowledge," Armoth retorted dismissively as his body vanished.
"Armoth?!" Ezra called, suddenly terrified of being abandoned.
Armoth's voice echoed above the breeze. "Show me that you are capable of more than contemplative apathy, and I will show you the way to another chance."