Chapter Text
Blasts fired past Ezra’s head, and he dodged behind the wall. Kanan was on the other side of the hall, delivering fire back at the stormtroopers.
“I don’t think they want us to have those supplies,” Ezra said.
“Nope,” Kanan agreed.
“Kanan,” Hera’s voice came through the comlink, “I need you and Ezra to push forward. I can’t stay docked here much longer.”
Kanan ducked behind the wall, and brought the comlink up to ask, “Did Sabine get those bombs set on the cannons yet?”
“Still working on it,” Sabine answered.
Kanan muttered, “This is taking too long.” Then, to Ezra, “We’re going to have to charge them. You ready?”
Ezra ignited his lightsaber, and Kanan took his two component parts from his belt, putting his together, and then igniting it.
“On three. One.”
“Two.”
“Three.”
They charged down the hall, deflecting blaster bolts, hitting troopers. The ones that were still standing when they were in proximity they dealt with easily.
“All right, let’s go.”
Ezra and Kanan ran for the cargo bay. They made it to the wide, tall doors, which were heavily guarded. Just as they engaged the stormtroopers in battle, Chopper started yelling something incoherent through the comms.
Ezra paused, Kanan having to deflect blaster fire so it didn’t hit Ezra right in the face.
“Ezra, what’s going on?”
He felt… cold.
“Kanan, Chopper says he found some of those fancy TIEs you told us to look out for,” Hera cried.
“It’s a trap,” Ezra said.
The cargo bay doors opened, and two Inquisitors stepped out: the Fifth Brother, and the Seventh Sister. Their lightsabers were already ignited, red light glowing on their faces.
The Seventh Sister pushed passed a stormtrooper and looked right at Ezra. “Hello, child.”
For some reason that reminded Ezra of his first encounter with her, of the strange way she’d spoken to him, of how she’d touched his face. Anger sparked in his gut, and he tried to rush forward. Kanan grabbed him.
“Ezra, no. We have to run!”
Kanan’s hand was on his shoulder, pushing him, turning him around, and then Ezra was following his master through the halls.
“How did they know we’d be here?” Ezra cried, outraged, fearful.
“Guess they have good intel.”
There were sounds like distant thunder, and the building shook a bit. Ezra stumbled, but Kanan caught him. They kept running.
Suddenly, Ezra had the sense that he had to duck down. He did, pushing Kanan down with him, and a twirling lightsaber went flying over their heads. Stunned, Ezra looked back, seeing the Fifth Brother hold out his hand to call his lightsaber back to him.
“This isn’t going to work,” Kanan said.
“What do you mean?”
“I’ll engage them. You hide.”
“What?”
Kanan stood, igniting his lightsaber, and shoved Ezra farther down the hall with the Force. He lost his footing, but managed to catch himself.
“Run!” he ordered. “Hide!”
Ezra wanted to object, but Kanan had engaged the Inquisitors. To Ezra he seemed surrounded by red. Fighting back a sudden onset of tears, he ran. He thought maybe if he made it to the hangar he’d be safe, but no, the Inquisitors would obviously find him there. Maybe if he went deeper into the structure, hid in a control room or something.
No! How could he just hide while his Master was fighting them? But Kanan had ordered it. Did he not trust his abilities?
Ezra was considering this while he’d ducked behind a terminal, hiding.
That’s where three stormtroopers found him, coming from the other direction.
“Oh no.”
“Get him!” one of them cried.
Ezra alternated between firing and deflecting until all the stormtroopers were down. More rounded the corner.
“Where’s Zeb when I need him?” Ezra bemoaned.
Then, Zeb did come down the hall, yelling, punching stormtroopers.
“Zeb!” Ezra shouted, grateful to see him. “Did Hera send you?”
“She told me to get you and Kanan out.”
“Kanan’s fighting the Inquisitors!” Ezra told him.
“Karabast. Lead the way.”
“I’m supposed to hide.”
Zeb looked down at him, eyebrows raised. “And do you want to do that?”
“No.”
“Then let’s go!”
Ezra took off down the hall, taking lefts and rights where he needed to. They found Kanan and the Inquisitors inside the cargo bay, Kanan throwing crates at them with the Force to hold them back. But something was wrong. He was barely raising his left arm. And then Ezra saw a slash across his ribs, and another at his shoulder.
“Kanan!” Ezra yelled.
He rushed towards the fight, heedless of the danger he was putting himself in.
“Ezra, no!” Kanan yelled.
He slashed at the Seventh Sister from the side, and she easily twisted, and parried. That began a dance of blades, of Ezra’s body remembering the forms he’d learned as he barely thought, as he found an emptiness in him. But panic soon set in. He was slowing, and the Seventh Sister was the better fighter. He had to get out of this before he reacted too slow or made the wrong move.
Just that amount of thinking was too much, and he missed a block, and he felt burning pain down his side, going around to his lower back. Ezra screamed, and he thought maybe Kanan and Zeb were screaming too. He fell to one knee, sweating, breath coming fast. He could see, but nothing around him seemed to make sense, his mind completely focused on the pain.
The Seventh Sister grabbed his chin, lifting his face up to her, and Ezra couldn’t fight her. A tear fell from his left eye, running over the scars on his face.
“So disappointing. I thought you were more talented than this.”
Usually Ezra would have a snappy remark, but he was too focused on the fire in his body. It was as if his very mind was on fire.
Kanan and Zeb must have been coordinating something with Hera and Sabine, because explosions came from the other side of the cargo bay, distracting the Inquisitors. It was enough for Kanan to run and grab Ezra. Ezra’s legs were weak, seemed to barely know how to walk.
“I told you to hide,” Kanan growled.
“I couldn’t just… let you face them alone,” Ezra panted.
“Hera, we’re going to need a fast pick up,” Zeb said.
“Engines are ready. Have you seen Sabine?”
“Was that explosion her work?”
“Yes, it was,” Sabine answered through the comlink as they kept running. “Where are you? I’ll come help.”
“No. Get on board,” Hera ordered.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Ezra remembered the trip back to the Ghost as one of agony, of him and Kanan both trying to hold each other up, of resting against walls to catch his breath, to try and keep existing even while the pain dragged him under.
And the Inquisitors followed, Zeb doing his best to cover their retreat.
Ezra thought maybe he blacked out a bit because next thing he knew he was in the cockpit of the Ghost , Sabine taking his tunic off. Zeb was seeing to Kanan.
“That looks like it hurts,” Sabine commented.
All Ezra could do was groan.
“Hera, they need serious medical attention. How soon can we land?” Sabine asked.
“I have to get the Inquisitors off our tail first.”
“Well hurry up!” Kanan shouted, pain making him snappy.
Hera snapped back, “You want to fly?”
Kanan’s answer was a groan as Zeb started trying to tend to him.
After a few minutes Kanan said, voice weak, “We’re going to have to break off from the fleet, hide from the Inquisitors.”
“Is it even possible to hide from them?” Ezra asked.
“It’s going to have to be.”
Hera put the Ghost into hyperspace, and the mood in the cockpit was dour. Sabine held Ezra’s hand, which he was sure he was squeezing too hard. But she didn’t complain.
The pain left him incoherent, but yes, he thought, hiding was a very good idea.