Chapter Text
I’m wake up in a small metal cell. My hands are bound by stun cuffs, and a dull throbbing in my head tells me I’m missing something. How did I get here?
The pounding in my head suddenly becomes clear. I remember being hit on the head with a stun baton by a stormtrooper. I must have been taken prisoner. My last glimpse was the Ghost taking off. I hope they made it out.
To add insult to injury, my mouth is dry and foul-tasting. I look for water, but the cell is completely empty, not a bed or bench, just for walls a floor and a ceiling.
I’m very cold, and hug myself to stay warm, expecting the familiar metal plate on my chest. But, No no no no! They have my armor, my second skin.
I wait, fighting not to cry or scream for a few hours, and then jump as the door to my cell slides open. Outside the door, an imperial Governor stares at me distastefully. It’s governor Tarkin. Great.
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“No!” I yell, causing Chopper to grunt. “We have to go back! We have to get her!”
Hera places a calm hand on my shoulder, but I don’t want her pity. I want Sabine. “Ezra,” Hera soothes, “We *will* go back for her, but we can’t. Not yet. She’ll be okay.”
I snort and jerk away from her. “How can you know that? We don’t know what they’re doing to her! She could be kriffing dead right now!”
Hera leans back a little as Kanan walks into the cockpit saying, “She’s not dead, Ezra, don’t let you emotions cloud your judgment.”
I slam my fist onto my armrest. “I don’t want Jedi training right now Kanan! I want Sabine back! How do you know she’s not dead?”
Kanan rolls his eyes. “Ezra, we’d both feel it in the Force if she died! Think it through, kid. Don’t worry, we’ll get her back safe and sound as soon as we figure out how.”
I start to relax, just a little. It makes sense. I would know if she was dead. “Okay,” I begin, “But we’d better make a plan quick.”