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Ezra kept his head down as he worked. He’d learned the hard way during his first week on the assembly line that even just looking up at the wrong moment could be seen as slacking off, or worse, as disrespecting the guards who patrolled the factory, watching the workers.
Ezra hated the work. It was exhausting and the guards here were just as cruel as the ones in the rest of the prison. But he hadn't been given a choice, and at least it got him out of the cell.
Ezra jumped as the conveyer belt in front of him shuddered to a halt. It wasn’t time for the shift to be over yet.
“Everyone stay where you are!” a voice echoed across the factory floor. Ezra looked up to see a grey-uniformed officer flanked by four stormtroopers.
“We have a report of an inmate on this shift carrying a weapon!” the officer said. “No one move until you’ve been searched.”
Ezra stood perfectly still as the stormtroopers split off into teams of two and began to make their way down the lines of prisoners. He didn’t dare to move, knowing how quickly searches turned into beatings. Every muscle in his body tensed as he tried to keep himself from shaking. By now he knew all too well that a sign of fear could be seen as a sign of guilt.
Even though he knew it was going to happen, Ezra gasped as the stormtroopers grabbed him and shoved him against the wall. He whimpered as the stormtroopers patted him down, their hands roughly searching every part of his body.
“He’s clear,” one of the stormtroopers said as they stepped back. Ezra gave a small sigh of relief as they moved away from him to the next person in the line, a Togruta girl about his age named Nyla.
Ezra heard a sharp yelp of pain and turned around to see that one of the stormtroopers was holding onto Nyla by an arm that was already broken.
“Let go!” the girl cried.
“Shut up,” the stormtrooper holding her said, his grip growing tighter on her arm.
“You’re hurting her,” Ezra said, taking a step forward.
“Back off, kid,” the other stormtrooper warned him.
Nyla yelled as the trooper holding her pushed her against the wall.
“Leave her alone!” Ezra said.
The stormtrooper released Nyla, rounding on Ezra and slamming an armored fist against his jaw. As Ezra fell to the ground, the stormtrooper kicked him in the side. As the solider loomed over him, about to kick him again, Ezra held his hands up over his face, trying to shield himself. He closed his eyes, bracing himself for the blow.
There was a crash and Ezra opened his eyes to see the stormtrooper on the ground three feet away. Nyla was shrinking back against the wall, staring wide-eyed at Ezra. The stormtrooper stood up, drawing his blaster and aiming it at Ezra. Ezra could practically feel his anger buzzing in the air. Ezra stared at the blaster that was pointed at him, unable to take his eyes off of it as his heart hammered. He shouldn’t have done anything. He’d known it wouldn’t change anything and now he was about to die for it.
“What happened?” the officer asked as he stormed over to them.
“I’m…not exactly sure,” the other stormtrooper said.
“Then what do you think happened?” the officer snapped, the impatience clear in his voice.
“The kid raised his hands to defend himself,” the trooper said, “and Tarask went flying back. Kid didn’t even touch him.”
For a moment, all was silent. Ezra could practically hear his heart pounding as he wondered what they were going to do to him. Even if he hadn't laid a hand on the stormtrooper, he knew he’d be blamed for this, anyway.
“Get up,” the officer said, lightly kicking Ezra in the side.
Ezra couldn’t move. He was frozen in terror, still staring up at the blaster pointed at his head.
“Now!” the officer snapped. He reached down and grabbed a handful of Ezra’s hair, forcing him to his feet, before shoving him toward the stormtroopers.
“Put him in isolation,” he said. “Level four.”
Ezra’s heart seemed to triple in speed. He’d been in level two before, and he knew level four was the highest in their system. He couldn’t even begin to imagine how much worse it was.
“Are you sure?” the trooper who didn’t have his blaster drawn asked. “He’s just a kid.”
“Level four,” the officer said. “That’s an order.”
“Yes, sir,” the trooper said, taking hold of Ezra’s arm.
“I didn’t do anything,” Ezra said, his voice barely above a whisper as his throat suddenly went dry.
“Quiet,” the stormtrooper said, gripping his arm even tighter.
The other stormtrooper lowered his weapon and grabbed Ezra’s other arm. Ezra stumbled as the stormtroopers began walking, dragging him with them. As they moved through the corridors, Ezra began shaking. By the time they reached the isolation cells, he was trembling so much that he could barely stand.
The stormtroopers stopped outside a door marked with a large number four and Ezra whimpered. The stormtroopers ignored him as one of them palmed open the door.
As they dragged Ezra into the dark cell, Ezra’s eyes widened as he saw the metal table in the middle of the room. One of the stormtroopers held both of Ezra’s arms in a tight, painful grip as the other walked to the table and began adjusting the position of the metal cuffs around its edges, muttering something about them not being built for kids. When he was finished, he beckoned to the stormtrooper still holding Ezra, who marched him forward, dragging him when he began shaking so much that he could no longer get his legs to move.
Ezra gasped in pain as he was shoved roughly onto the table. The cuffs were quickly closed around his wrists, ankles, and chest, immobilizing him completely. The edges of the cuffs began biting into Ezra’s skin as he shook under the weight of his fear. Tears began sliding down his face, his heart hammering as he wondered what they were going to do to him. He still didn’t even understand what had happened.
“I didn’t mean to --”
Ezra yelped as an armored hand struck his face.
“No talking,” the ‘trooper who’d hit him said.
Without another word, both stormtroopers turned away and left the cell. As the door shut behind them, Ezra cried out as he was plunged into complete darkness.
He wrenched at the restraints, even though he knew they weren’t going to budge. It was instinctive, driven by the sheer terror that coursed through him as he lay there, strapped down in the dark, his mind buzzing with all the terrible possibilities of what could happen next.
A sob escaped his throat as he tried to kick his way free of the cuffs around his ankles. How long were they going to leave him here? Were they just going to leave him strapped to the table, or was this just the beginning of something even worse?
Ezra stared blankly into the darkness that surrounded him. He had no idea how much time had passed since he’d been put in the cell. He only knew that he’d fallen asleep once and he had long since given up on fighting against the restraints. Doing so only caused him pain as the metal edges of the cuffs dug into his skin over and over. All he could do was lie there and wait until he was let out. If he was ever going to be let out.
That thought circled around his head over and over. What if they just left him here? What if he’d been forgotten? What if he hadn't been forgotten at all, and this was just a slow, torturous method of execution? He wouldn’t put it past them.
Ezra flinched and whimpered as the door opened. He turned his head quickly to shield his eyes as a dim light flickered on. As a guard approached, holding something in his hand, Ezra began to struggle against the restraints again, terror pounding in his head as the man drew closer.
“Open your mouth,” the guard said.
Ezra immediately clenched his jaw and shook his head. He didn’t know what the guard was planning to do, but he knew it couldn’t be good, and he wasn’t about to make it easy.
“Open your mouth or a med droid’s coming in to give you IV fluids,” the guard snapped.
Ezra hesitated, briefly wondering if it was a trick, before he slowly opened his mouth. The guard placed the canteen he held in his hand to Ezra’s lips and Ezra quickly gulped down as much water as he could. He knew there was no way to predict when he’d be allowed to have water again, so he had to take as much as he could stomach now, even as it made him nauseous.
The guard pulled the canteen away far too soon and left the cell without another word. The light flicked off and Ezra was plunged into darkness again. This time, he didn’t fight against his restraints, even though fear still coiled through his mind.
He tried to take some small measure of comfort in what had just happened. If they were letting him have water, they weren’t just leaving him here to die. Eventually, they’d have to let him out of the cell, wouldn’t they?
But no matter how hard Ezra clung to that thought, it did nothing to ease his fear.
Every part of Ezra’s body ached. He’d been stuck here, restrained to this table, for so long that sharp spikes of pain now shot through his limbs at random. He didn’t know how long he’d been here, only that it had to have been days at this point, and he’d spent the entire time strapped to this table. He just wished he could move. He’d even settle for a few centimeters of movement within the restraints, but they were tight against his skin, not giving him any room to move.
His stomach growled and Ezra groaned along with it. He’d been given water while he was locked in here, but no food. He couldn’t remember ever being this hungry in his life, and the worse it got, the harder it was not to think about it.
But the worst part was the screaming. It echoed through the walls, telling him exactly what was happening to the other prisoners in these cells, and what was probably going to happen to him soon enough. He was surprised it hadn't happened yet, but so far he had only been hurt once, when he’d tried to ask a guard how long he’d been in the cell and the guard had punched him in the stomach to shut him up.
Tears welled up in Ezra’s eyes as he weakly struggled against the restraints. He should have known better. He’d been in this place for over three years now. He knew how things worked. He knew that fighting back against the guards, defending the other prisoners, would get him beaten at best, but he kept doing it anyway. He didn’t know how to stop himself.
A deep, aching sense of cold settled over him as he lay there. Without him even realizing it, his struggles grew more frantic and urgent, as if he was trying to get away from something, though he had no idea what that something was. His heart started pounding, growing faster and faster until the door to the cell slid open and he yelped, turning his head to shield his eyes as the light turned on.
Four people entered the cell. Two stormtroopers, an officer Ezra vaguely recognized as the prison’s warden, and a Mirialan woman in black armor.
“This is the boy?” the woman asked.
“It is,” the warden said.
Ezra shivered as the woman approached, tugging frantically at the restraints that held him in place. The room seemed to get colder with every second the woman spent staring at him, her yellow eyes almost glowing in the darkness.
A quiet squeak of fear escaped Ezra’s throat as the woman grabbed his chin. It didn’t hurt, but her touch felt like ice, even though she was wearing gloves. She tilted Ezra’s face to one side, then the other, like she was examining him. As she made him look at her again, a dull ache began spreading through Ezra’s head. He let out a small, weak cry of pain as the ache grew worse by the second.
As suddenly as it had begun, the pain stopped. The woman smiled, and Ezra shook under her gaze, terrified by the way she was now looking at him.
“You were right to contact the Inquisitorius,” the woman said as she turned back to the warden. “I’ll take him into custody immediately.”
Ezra’s restraints snapped open, though he hadn't seen anyone actually deactivate them. He fell forward, crumpling to a heap on the floor at the woman’s feet. No one touched him, but Ezra felt something grab at his arm, wrenching him off the floor. His legs ached as he put his weight on them, forcing himself to stay standing.
The woman grabbed his arm, holding him in place as one the stormtroopers stepped forward and locked binders tightly around his wrists.
“You’re coming with me,” the woman said as she began walking toward the door, pulling Ezra with her.
Ezra stumbled along beside her as he tried to wrap his head around what was happening. His head was buzzing with questions, but he couldn’t figure out how to ask any of them, and he was terrified of what she would do to him if he did ask. Finally, in spite of his fear, he managed to speak up, forcing the words out and stumbling over them.
“Wh--where are you taking me?” he asked, his voice shaking.
“Quiet,” she snapped, wrenching sharply on his arm.
Ezra stayed silent as he was led through the corridors. He was shaking as the same cold that he’d felt in the cell surrounded him. It felt like it was alive, twisting around him and trying to crush him. Tears stung at his eyes as he stumbled along beside the woman, the cold sinking under his skin.
The woman said nothing to him as she led him to the docking bay. Ezra’s heart hammered as they entered. He hadn't been here since the day he and his parents had been brought to this place. As they approached a small transport ship, every instinct Ezra had screamed at him to run, to get as far away from his woman as possible. But he knew he couldn’t. The docking bay was filled with stormtroopers. He wouldn’t make it ten feet before he was taken down or just shot dead. So he didn’t resist as he was led onto the ship. He wanted to kick and scream and fight, but he knew there was nothing he could do.
As the hatch sealed behind them, Ezra gasped, feeling like he’d been plunged into freezing water. The cold that had clung to him as the woman had led him through the prison was everywhere here, twining tightly around him like the binders around his wrists. He stopped in his tracks, almost forgetting how to move.
The woman gave a low, impatient growl and yanked him forward. Ezra’s eyes widened as he saw where she was taking him. Set into the wall of the ship were three small compartments, each with a door made of thin metal bars like a cage. The sight of them made Ezra’s chest go even colder, though he wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t like this would be any worse than what he’d already been subjected to.
Even knowing that, Ezra began to struggle as he was dragged forward. But his time in the isolation cell, strapped down, never fed, given just enough water to keep him out of the medbay, had left him weak, and the woman easily overpowered him. Ezra let out a sharp yelp of pain as he was thrown into one of the cages, hitting the wall before collapsing to the floor.
As the woman locked the door and walked away, Ezra pulled himself into a corner, huddling there with his knees pulled up to his chest and his forehead resting on top of them. His tears were now streaming down his face as he began shaking, wondering who this woman was and where she was taking him. She was clearly and Imperial. The insignia on her armor told him that much. She’d mentioned something called the Inquisitorius, but Ezra had no idea what that was.
Ezra stayed huddled in the corner, shaking as he cried, for their whole journey. When he felt the jolt of the ship leaving hyperspace, his heart began pounding again. Wherever the woman was taking him, they were close now.
By the time the ship landed, Ezra felt like his chest was about to burst open. He shrank back into the corner as the woman opened the door. She reached down and grabbed his arm, pulling him to his feet. Ezra was shaking so much he could barely stand, but he had to force himself to walk anyway as the woman led him off of the ship.
They were on a landing platform on top of a tall building, and rain beat down on Ezra’s head as the woman marched him to a door that led to a turbolift. As the lift began to descend, Ezra looked up, flinching as he accidentally met the woman’s eyes.
“Wh--where are we?” he asked, his voice shaking.
“Did anyone say you could speak?” she asked, her voice low and dangerous.
“N--no,” Ezra said, the word coming out as a small, frightened squeak. He felt paralyzed under the woman’s gaze, like that cold that emanated from her had frozen him in place.
“Then keep your mouth shut,” she said, her nails digging into Ezra’s skin for a moment before she released him.
A fresh wave of tears spilled from Ezra’s eyes as he began sobbing, trembling so much he was amazed he didn’t collapse onto the floor. When the lift stopped, the woman grabbed his arm again and pulled him through the door, shoving him toward two grey-armored guards who towered over him. Ezra took a step back, but he didn’t stand a chance of avoiding the guard who grabbed hold of his arm.
“We’ll take it from here,” he said, his voice flat, almost clinical, as if he did this every day.
Ezra whimpered as he was led down the corridor. He hadn't thought it was possible, but the cold that had filled the ship was even stronger here, clutching and ripping at him like it was trying to drag him down and drown him.
“What’s going on?” Ezra asked, forcing the words out past a lump in his throat.
The guards released their hold on his arms and Ezra felt something press sharply against his back for a moment before an electric shock burst through his body. Ezra cried out and fell to his knees, every muscle in his body aching. Before he could recover, the guards grabbed hold of him again and dragged him back to his feet.
A moment later, the guards pulled him through another door into a wide room with a drain in the floor. One of the guards removed Ezra’s cuffs, making him gasp in pain as the pressure lifted from his wrists. Ezra stared down at his hands for a moment, at the bruises on his wrists left by the restraints. He yelped as the guard slapped the back of his head.
“I said clothes off,” the guard said.
“W--why?” Ezra asked, his voice shaking with terror.
The guard jabbed his shock prod against Ezra’s back again, sending another burst of electricity through him. Ezra quickly removed his clothes and backed into a corner, wiping a hand across his eyes as though that would do anything to stop his tears.
Ezra yelped as a burst of freezing cold water hit him. He pressed himself farther into the corner and hugged his arms around himself in an attempt to stay warm, but it didn’t do him any good. After a few minutes, the heavy stream of water was shut off and Ezra whimpered as one of the guards approached. He sighed in relief as the guard shoved a dull grey uniform into his hands.
Ezra dressed as quickly as he could and had barely finished pulling the shirt over his head before the guards grabbed him again and led him out of the room, down another long corridor. Ezra was still shivering as they dragged him to yet another door, opened it with a key card, and shoved him through it.
The door slammed shut behind Ezra, plunging him into darkness. He stood perfectly still, his eyes as wide as he could make them as he tried to adjust to the low level of light.
He was in a cell. Along one wall was a bed with metal restraints along its edges. Ezra whimpered and shuddered at the sight of it. Turning back toward the door, Ezra saw that there was a camera above it, like an inky black eye staring at him from the wall.
Ezra glanced around the cell, his first instinct being to look for a place where the camera wouldn’t be able to see him. But there was nowhere to hide.
Ezra backed himself up against the wall and sank to the floor, pulling his knees up to his chest and hugging his arms around them. A fresh wave of tears overpowered him and he began shaking like a leaf in a storm. He didn’t understand why this was happening. He hadn't even done anything, and now he was trapped in this place and he didn’t know if he’d ever see Mom and Dad again.
Ezra bit down on the back of his hand to muffle the sound of his crying. When he’d first been imprisoned, he’d been terrified, but at least his parents had been there. They’d held him as he cried and tried to tell him that everything would be okay, even though he knew they were lying. Now, they were gone. Now, no one would even tell him what was happening.
Now, he was alone.