Jedi

No matter where he went, no matter who he encountered, no matter how many he and his fellow Inquisitors had slain over these long eighteen years, they were still the same all over.

Noble, arrogant, irritatingly selfless, self-righteous twats.

It seemed to him Ezra Bridger was very little exception to this rule.

Malleus struck first, aiming for Bridger's annoying raven-haired head. The street-urchin from Lothal blocked near-effortlessly with that unfamiliar orange blade of his- strange, his lightsaber was colored green by our last reports, and in a totally different design, he thought- and countered with a strike of his own, which Malleus immediately parried.

"Tell me, Jedi whelp," Malleus mocked, "Did the little padawan lose his lightsaber?"

Bridger shrugged. "Decided to upgrade. By the way, you're sloppier than the last Grand Inquisitor. Your Emperor couldn't find anyone better for the job?"

Insufferable Jedi brat!

Malleus kept his cool, however, though he did frown as he went in for another strike. "Funny, Bridger. Very funny."

The latter smirked. "Thanks for noticing," he mocked as he parried another blow from his blade.

Malleus gritted his teeth. This padawan should have lost, by now! No matter. He would still kill this kriffing brat and then go after the rest of the royal family… and throw in that Mandalorian bitch for good measure. He had proven himself to the Emperor long before this, after all- over a dozen lightsabers on the new Iron Throne belonged to Jedi that he had felled himself with this blade!

He spun his blade, striking with both ends, one after the other. Bridger parried the first two strikes, then hopped back, obviously having encountered the unique design of Inquisitorial lightsabers before.

Malleus grinned, adopting a defensive posture and spinning his blades, daring the little Jedi to come close.

"What's the matter, Bridger. Afraid that I'll cut off your other two limbs?"

Bridger said nothing, just smirking that damnable smirk in response as if he was alone privy to the answer to the most hilarious joke in the universe.

What in the nine hells is he thinking?

Suddenly, Malleus' blades stopped rotating, suspended, barely vibrating in mid-air, as if held there by some kind of-

He widened his eyes. No, that was impossible! How could such a young whelp like him learn such an advanced technique? His blind master wasn't even this skilled!

"What?" was all he managed to squelch out before Ezra literally rushed at him and swung his vermillion-colored sword, seemingly intending to behead him then and there. Malleus instinctively ducked, managing to save his head by mere inches. But it seemed that Bridger wasn't really aiming for his head-

He was aiming for his lightsaber.

The orange blade connected full force with the top emitter, slicing all the way through it just as the stasis field was wearing off.

Somersaulting out of the way, Bridger turned to face Malleus again, who barely managed to get hold of his now-single bladed lightsaber.

"Heh. You're probably wondering how I did that," Bridger bragged, eyeing the now-concerned expression on Malleus' face. "Let's just say that Kanan hasn't been my only teacher this past year or so and that I'm a quick learner. Now that you only have one blade, I figure the score's evened a bit."

Malleus grimaced. Shit, shit, shit, shit! This padawan was far more skilled than he had anticipated. Hell, he could easily be rival any of old Order's knights, for all he knew. He gripped the hilt a bit tighter. No matter, he would break this child and complete his mission, skill is damned. He decided to probe Bridger with the force a little, as he adopted a high guard. There was something…

Wait.

He smiled again. Ah, so that was it. That was the secret behind his success. He started to laugh. "Ha! Of course, I should have known. The Dark Side. It clings to you like a shadow. If I had to hazard a guess, I'd say you used a Sith Holocron for a good long while after your master was blinded, didn't you, boy?"

Bridger said nothing, instead electing to glare at him. That, however, was all the confirmation he needed.

"Ah, so it is true. The Sith Holocron I picked up on Dathomir told me that some Jedi had used it before my arrival, but I never would have guessed it was you. I wonder what also it taught you? Mind domination? Lighting? I truly wonder if you fully tapped into the Dark Side, what you'd be incapable of unleashing?" he sneered. "Maybe…just maybe, you'd rival even my lord."

"Save your nerfshit for someone who cares," Bridger shot back. "I've put it behind me."

"Is that so," Malleus mocked as he advanced closer. "What if I told you that I know who ordered the arrest of your parents…and who murdered them in prison?"

Now that got his attention.

"What did you just say?" Bridger asked, his voice lowering to a dangerous octave.

Malleus smiled. "Truthfully, they were gunned down by two random stormtroopers, who were soon transferred to Mandalore, where they perished during one of the Nite Owls' raids… so, your vengeance is lost on that front. As for who ordered their arrest…well, I believe you've already met him. What's better, you count him as one of your dear precious allies!"

"You lie!" Bridger spat.

Malleus shrugged. "It's quite true, believe it or not. Come now, you must have been suspicious as to how conveniently Ryder Ahzadi showed up on Lothal with that pitiful story. He helped your parents in prison out of guilt for having them arrested in the first place, simply so he could save his own worthless hide!"

Anger flashed in Bridger's eyes, and for a moment, Malleus was hopeful he would crack…then, in a quite unexpected move, Bridger closed his eyes, and breathed in deeply, seemingly letting go of any anger he had.

"If what you say is true…" Bridger began, opening those blue orbs, "then I will determine for myself if he really feels guilt for it or not when I ask him. But I refuse to execute a man for petty vengeance, unlike you."

Any hope of converting Ezra Bridger was shattered for Malleus, right then and there. The Dark Jedi snarled at the padawan. "You dishonor your parents' name and memory by refusing to shed the blood of their betrayers!"

Bridger looked at him evenly. "I would dishonor them if I gave in to my anger and turned into one of the monsters they fought so hard to get rid of. Monsters like you…" he said, closing his eyes and probing with the Force. Malleus immediately put his mental shields up, but he felt something slip through, in and out as quick as a knife.

"…Tyrek Lannister." Ezra finished, a look of pity and resolve on his face mixing as one.

Malleus grew frightened. How…how was this brat able to do that? Only two people he knew could even penetrate his defenses. Could it be…

Could it be that this arrogant bastard has the same Force potential as Lord Vader and the Emperor?

"You…" he sneered, his rage giving him strength and focus, "Jedi scum! I will tear you limb from limb and hang your head from the highest tower of the Imperial Palace! You cannot defeat me!" he yelled as he slashed at Bridger. The two immediately began their deadly dance again.

Parry.

Block.

Strike.

Counter-strike.

Slash.

Thrust.

Each of Malleus' blows was met equally by Bridger's, orange clashing on scarlet, as sparks flew between the two blades.

At last, when their blades became locked yet again, and as Malleus soon felt that he would again have the upper hand, Ezra smiled and laughed.

"Wow. You think I was trying to beat you, Tyrek," he said, mockingly using his real name. "I was only trying to distract you long enough for everyone else in my group to escape inside…and for you to get caught by reinforcements right about…now."

Bridger disengaged, leaping a good twenty feet backward, as a warning in the Force told Malleus to disengage and run right, moments before a missile struck his position. He got back up and found a Larty gunship hovering over his original position, and from the gunship rappelled several figures…

One of which was an angry, human man in dark armor wielding a sword that looked to be made of beskar, whose presence in the Force hit Malleus like a blizzard.

The Grey-Wolf had come…and he had brought back-up.

Knowing that there would probably be more reinforcements on the way, and his lightsaber down to only one emitter, he did the only thing that seemed to make sense to him, which would give him the best chance of survival.

He fled.

Running as fast as he could through the streets and the alleyways, he began to discard pieces of his armor, knowing that the authorities in this blasted city would soon be cleaning up the last of Ramsay's thugs and begin looking for him. Damn it all, how did they not know the Grey-Wolf would be there? Why had their agent failed to report this?

Soon, he stopped in an alleyway, where one end was closed off by a wall connecting the two high-rises. A dead-end, kark!

He heard footsteps. Blast it, the authorities would be here soon! He ignited his lightsaber and turned to meet whoever decided to approach him. To his shock, however, it was not a bunch of vengeful, murderous police looking to avenge their fallen king. No…

It was a Mirialan, a male dressed head to toe in pale blue robes, his depthless blue eyes scanning him from head to toe.

"Greetings, Inquisitor," the Mirialan calmly stated. "I am Brother Malakas, of the White Frost. I see that you are in distress."

Malleus brought his lightsaber closer. "What is it to you, cultist?"

Malakas lifted his arms. "You are in need, and I am here to help. Would you rather take your chances with me, or with those who are hunting you and will most certainly put you to death for having a hand in the murder of their king?"

Malleus lowered his lightsaber a little. "How do I know I can trust you?"

Malakas smiled slightly. "You don't. But that is the beauty of it, no? Probable death versus certain death. A gamble versus a sure loss. Besides, if that doesn't interest you, then the information I have will."

Now, his curiosity got the better of him. "What information?" he asked.

"It pertains to the fate of your Empire if you do not act, but I cannot reveal it here and now. Not while the constables are looking for you. So, I must ask again…are you willing to take a chance?"

He clenched his teeth. So far, there seemed to be no good options, and if the Empire was truly under threat, then he had to take this information, lest order fell, and chaos descended upon the realms of men.

"Fine, then," he spat out. "Tell me what you know."

"Not here," the Mirialan shook his head. "Follow me, and then you will know all."

Seeing no other choice, and running out of time, Malleus nodded, following the strange cultist into one of the adjacent buildings, making sure to close and lock the door so the police.

Malakas kept walking, going further and further into the building until coming to a set of stairs, descending a good couple of stories down. He beckoned for Malleus to follow, which he did so, all the while trying to ignore the feeling of unease that had been gnawing at him. This cultist might be helping him, but that didn't mean that he was no less of a threat to the Empire than the Rebellion or…

Or the White Walkers.

Just thinking of them sent shivers down his spine. Especially that horned leader of theirs', the Night King, whose face had haunted him ever since he found that footage of the massacre on Vector Prime.

Down and down the stairs they went until they reached a small, windowless room barely lit by candles. It was apparent that this room served as some type of private shrine for the cultist, for at the end of the small room was an altar with an idol upon it.

An idol shaped conspicuously like a hurricane or a spiral-armed galaxy.

The unease in his stomach grew. He knew that this Malakas was part of the cult he had been hunting across the Outer Rim for this past year or so, so why was he in here, willing to hear him out?

"Alright, fanatic," he commanded. "Where is this information you promised me? What possible knowings can you have that are worthy of my time?"

The Mirialan didn't answer his question straight away. Instead, he seemed to choose to be cryptic about it. "Do you trust that your master truly has the Empire's best interests at heart?" he asked Malleus instead.

Malleus blinked. "What are you talking about? Our Emperor saved this galaxy from tearing itself apart. He brought order where there is chaos, stability where there was strife! And you are suggesting that he never has our nation's interest?"

Malakas scoffed. "If he truly had your realm's best interest, and if he were true in the service of your vaunted order, why is it that so many rebellions and resistance movements have popped up on various worlds in these past two decades? Why is that so many sentient species have been wiped out for one reason or another by his fleets and armies? The Empire is responsible for so much corruption and discord in the galaxy today, and you think you serve the cause of peace? Truly, Palpatine has clouded your mind. Does the Emperor even have an heir?"

Malleus blinked. He had not been expecting that question. He thought, and he thought hard. All his life, he only knew Palpatine as the supreme ruler of everything. He never knew of any sires of his, nor did he know of any potential named heir. Even Mas Amedda was left out of certain dealings of the Emperor, for reasons that were virtually unknown to anyone. A long time ago, he would have thought Lord Vader to be Heir to the Empire, yet he wasn't even sure of that anymore.

A thought crossed his mind, one so ludicrous that he shouldn't have even entertained it, but cross his mind it did;

Did the Emperor plan to live forever?

He shook the thought out of his head. No, it couldn't be. The legacy of his Empire was too important. All beings faced death, even one mighty as him. He would have to choose an heir to continue his great work.

But did he?

Malakas studied him, seemingly knowing the internal conflict Malleus was putting himself through. It was then the cultist decided to drop the proverbial proton bomb on him.

"The reason why your Emperor does not have an heir, Inquisitor, is because he chooses not to," he revealed. "He does not plan on the Empire he created outliving him. He will throw this galaxy into complete chaos and total war, all due to his utter selfishness."

Malleus was shocked. "No… no! You're lying, you must be! My Emperor would never…" he trailed off for a moment. "The Empire is the result of centuries of hard work and dedication of his predecessors in the Sith Order. Why would he want their hard work to go to waste?"

"For the same reason he does anything wasteful," Malakas chided, "because he is a completely self-absorbed and vain being, always reaching for greater and greater power, completely engrossed in a delusional quest for godhood." The cultist walked closer to Malleus. "I know you don't believe me, my lord. But the proof is there, on Coruscant. Find a way to delve into Palpatine's most secret writings, his most private journals. There, you will discover the truth of my words," he warned. "Act now, last of the lions, or the Empire's founder will doom it to destruction and death. Seek the wisdom of your greatest ancestor and save your realm from certain death."

Now Malleus' thoughts were spinning in a maelstrom. Did the work of the Sith prior mean nothing to Lord Sidious? If he had to be removed, who would rule in his place? Was what this cultist even saying remotely even true?

One thing was for certain, though, he had to see if this proof existed. Getting to it would be no easy task, however. He would need to find the most skilled hacker in the galaxy just to access those files, whether they be in some hidden computer system or in Palpatine's own private chambers…and he would need to be completely discreet about it.

There was also the matter of Lord Vader.

He hoped his direct master would be on Mustafar when this all transpired, but if Palpatine suspected anything, he would send Vader on his trail, and Vader always found his prey in the end…

Unless…

A plan began to form in Malleus' mind. It was risky. No, strike that, it was the biggest gamble he had ever undertaken, but if it paid off…the Empire could very well be saved, or even improved.

He nodded to the cultist, finally clipping what remained of his lightsaber to his belt. "I…thank you for this information, Malakas…if the information is true, that is. If I find that it is false, there is no hole in the entire Outer Rim I will not be able to drag out of and slaughter you like a hog."

Malakas bowed. "Rest assured, Grand Inquisitor, my knowledge of such things is accurate. The Prophet knows all," he proclaimed. Before Malleus could ask him about what that meant, a secret passageway to his right opened.

"The passage will lead you straight to a ship on a private landing pad. As the defense network is down, you should be able to slip past. You will also find a cloak to guise yourself," Malakas stated. "Good fortune, and may the rains never weep on your halls."

With that last, ominous, and disturbing farewell, Malakas turned and left, going back up the stairs they had descended only moments ago. With no other recourse, a now very-perturbed Malleus gathered his bearings and headed into the tunnel, using the crimson glow of his lightsaber to light the way to freedom…and trouble.

Whatever came next though, he would make sure to have his answers. By the Force and all the gods that have been and will be, he would make damned sure of it.

The fate of the Empire may well depend upon it.

A/N: Well, questions upon questions, it seems. I'm going to go throw quite a few of them, so, bear with me-

Q: How did someone like Malleus lose/tie against Ezra?

A: Well, if you played the game Fallen Order, watched Rebels, or read the Vader comics, you'd realize that Inquisitors are…not the best when it came to fighting Jedi. Oh, sure, they made kills on them, but usually, it was the result of ambushing or outnumbering said Jedi. This is because Palpatine purposefully made them weak compared to himself and Vader so that they wouldn't threaten the Sith if they were ever to turn traitor. Plus, Ezra learned much from Kanan and from the Holocron, and his potential dueling skill is honestly unexplored during the final two seasons of Rebels as the focus shifted primarily to Thrawn.

Q: Why does Malleus seemingly trust this guy? Wasn't he just hunting cultists?

A: He was, but Malakas is one of the best preachers these cultists have, and he has a slick way with words that only a few like Palpatine can rival. Now, what this cultist has planned, we shall see, but if he's worshipping the Night King as a god, then suffice to say it most likely spells trouble for everyone involved. Also, how this guy knows so much will be revealed at the end of this first story.

On a side note, I've been watching The Mandalorian. Very interesting story so far, and why this Mando clan is in hiding intrigues me. It has influenced the scale of my Massacre of Keldabe/Great Purge for me, in particular.

Tune in next time for battle preparations, grief over loss, and the prelude to the battle that will change the history of this galaxy forever.

Ta-ta!