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She waited anxiously in the Ghost's main hallway for Ezra to emerge.
The others had already gone ahead, but Sabine lingered behind, straining her ears for any sound from behind the door.
After a moment the shuffle of his footsteps sounded, before the door hissed open to reveal him.
His eyes were bleary and he rubbed the back of his neck slowly, working out the stiff kinks.
"Hey Sabine," he said, wearily. "Has the briefing already started?"
"Not yet," she told him. "But Hera would have waited for you anyway." She leaned back a bit, to take in his full haggard appearance. "Are you okay?" she asked.
He gave her a grim smile. "Tired," he confessed. "Haven't been sleeping well."
"I can imagine," Sabine muttered under her breath, as he moved past her.
She watched his back with tight anxiety, biting her lip as she followed him. Trying not to bring it up since she knew Ezra was very much trying to move past the whole matter.
Said matter being that Ezra had gone missing on a mission recently. Not for very long, thankfully, three or four days at most, and fortunately he hadn't been too far away from his last reported location. But the creepy empty Old Republic era medical laboratory on Balmorra they had found him in, dark and dimly-lit except for that one specific room where he was located, the groggy near-unconscious state he was found in, how he'd been strapped down to some kind of medical table, how when he was coherent again he couldn't remember any details about what had led up to his imprisoned condition or how he'd gotten there, or what had happened to the rest of his team...
...Well it had been downright unnerving for everyone involved. Especially her.
She couldn't blame Ezra for not being able to sleep.
She'd barely left his side since his retrieval, terrified of letting him out of her sight again. Ezra hadn't seemed to mind, clearly and often visibly shook up from the whole ordeal. Especially since they still hadn't gotten the toxicology report back for what had been running through his system, or even found out who had taken him. There had been nothing in the facility's databanks, and no one else present on the premises when they'd found him.
They had already found the bodies of Ezra's squad, scattered about the plain at Ezra's last location, lacerated and bisected like they had gone down fighting trying to protect both him and each other. The corpses were still being examined but it had looked to Sabine uncomfortably like the wounds had been dealt by a lightsaber.
Others on the base whispered rumors of Inquisitors, or maybe the same black spectre of death that had confronted them on Lothal, followed them back to the fleet and almost decimated Phoenix Group before they'd even begun to move against the Empire.
Sabine didn't want to think about that theory. She still remembered how effortlessly the hulking mechanical shadow had deflected her own blaster bolts back at her. If she hadn't been wearing her helmet...
No. Better to think it had been pirates or bounty hunters of some kind. Ahsoka had given her life to get Vader off their trail. She didn't want to think that had all been for nothing.
The hot Atollon sun burned down on them as they both emerged from the Ghost. The sky was a brilliant rouge, signifying the turn of the hour towards evening. Sand skittered across the ground, blown by faint gusts and flurries at their feet.
She trotted to catch up with him, and walked in place by his side until they were at the briefing area.
Hera already had the holotable set up with wire diagrams of their mission tomorrow; a gnarly-looking starfighter with vaguely familiar solar wings and curled shape. She nodded at the two of them as they joined the circle around the table.
Ezra's eyes were immediately drawn to the odd starfighter. "Woah, what is that?" he asked.
Sabine shared the bewilderment that was in his voice. "Looks like someone took a TIE fighter and hit it with the ugly stick."
"Plural times," Ezra agreed.
Hera smiled at that. "You're looking at the TIE Breacher," she explained. "An experimental prototype blockade buster our sources in Seinar just found out about." She leaned back on her hip, folding her arms. "It's still in the concept phase thus far but our sources tell us they're almost ready to build a working prototype."
From their left, Zeb gave a chuckle. "Would be a real shame if the Empire randomly lost all the data related to the project, eh?"
"Good assumption," Hera said. "That's exactly what we're going to be doing. Making that data disappear." She pressed something on the holotable to change up the display. "They're keeping the plans in an offsite satellite facility on the far end of the Mid Rim. It's going to be easier to penetrate than a main factory but security is still pretty tight so—"
Static suddenly flickered across the display, distorting it, accompanied by a painful burst of feedback.
The whole gathered company startled. Kanan stepped significantly back from the table, uncrossing his arms and twitching them towards his ears, as if he wanted to cover them.
"What the—?" said Hera, peering down and fiddling with the buttons on the side of the holotable. "Incoming transmission? Chopper, who's calling us?"
Chopper warbled out a clueless reply but the answer came moments later when the glitching display steadied, resolving itself into the image of an unfamiliar Zabrak.
Sabine stiffened, eyes widening in disbelief, as the vivid pattern of tattoos sparked some recognition deep in her memory.
The man's cold eyes were simmering with aloof disdain.
"I hope I'm not interrupting anything," he said dryly.
Yelps came from other Rebels behind her, who had been present for the briefing, and Ezra paled, face going white with terror.
"You..." she heard Kanan breathe in a stunned gasp. His shoulders tightened, hands stiffening and curling into fists. "What do you want?" he demanded.
"Kanan...?" Hera questioned, bewildered.
"It's Maul," Ezra said, voice thin.
The spark of recognition swelled into a flame inside Sabine. Memories from history lessons with her tutors. Of course. Him. Dutchess Satine's killer.
Notes of dread and fear beat rapidly through her.
Why was he calling them?
"You have something that belongs to me."
The man's tone was casually demanding. The icy gaze was pinned on Ezra.
Sabine felt prickly protectiveness rising up in her.
Hera inserted herself back into the conversation then, taking charge of it. "We don't have anything you want," she snapped. "How did you get this frequency?"
An amused smile faintly touched the black lips. "Ask the boy," he said, tilting his head Ezra's direction. "He was ever so helpful."
Ezra met Hera's probing gaze, horrified. "Hera, I would never—" he defended. "I don't know what he's talking about. I—"
"I believe you," Hera interrupted, nodding, eyes soft.
"You took Ezra!" Sabine said in realization. She angled forward, taking both of Ezra's shoulders and inserting herself protectively between the projection of the Zabrak and him. She looked back angrily over her shoulder. "What did you do to him?" she demanded.
The chilling eyes passed over her. "I had been in the middle of... persuading him to another viewpoint," he said. "Before you so rudely removed him from my custody." The horned head leaned back a bit, as the Zabrak straightened and clasped hands behind himself. "I will overlook that, however, provided it is rectified immediately."
Kanan lunged forward, gripping the edges of the holotable with a snarl. "We are not giving him back to you!" he growled.
"You misunderstand. All you have to do is stay out of the way." He turned his attention on Ezra again. "Apprentice."
Ezra gave a little flinch, shying back, stepping away from Sabine.
There was no waver in the yellow-eyed stare. "Swallowtail," Maul said. "You will return to me. You will bring me the Jedi holocron. And you will kill anyone who tries to stop you."
Sabine watched his eyes widen with a flash of utter terror and then—
His expression snapped completely blank. Like all emotion had been sucked out of him.
The shift was so sudden and unnatural that it took her aback. Against her better instincts screaming at her that something was very wrong and she needed to stay away, she reached for his shoulders again, this time in concern.
"Ezra?"
"Sabine, don't!" Kanan yelled in horror.
Several things happened very quickly:
With clinical precision, Ezra reached for the lightsaber at his left hip and ignited the blade while sweeping the hilt.
Sabine registered the heat of the deadly green blade and jerked back like she'd touched hot iron but it wasn't enough.
Just before the lightsaber could make contact she felt a heavy, handless, invisible push that shoved her over into the dirt.
-SWR-
Kanan panted hard, his hand still outstretched after tossing Sabine back, knocking her to the ground just a hair ahead of Ezra completing his swing.
His ears rang with the cries of alarm and outrage from the others and his own heart pounded loud inside his head. Sabine grunted as she banged her chin and head, and the hum of the lightsaber idled, waiting.
"I suggest you clear a path for him," came the final withering comment from Maul, before a little fizzle and blip indicated that he'd cut off his end of the holoprojection.
Kanan was reeling, panic threatening to overtake him from the moment Ezra's mind had shuttered, snapping closed like a blast door, muting their bond so much that for a split second he'd feared the boy was dead. Then the Force had been screaming danger at him and leaving him almost no time to react to save Sabine.
The danger was still tingling, still vibrating on his neck and the back of his arms. A stern, cold warning echoing all around the space, bouncing off objects and individuals.
There was a beat of bewildered silence.
Then, light footsteps scraped the sand and began to head off, away from the holotable. The hum of Ezra's lightsaber went with the footsteps.
Now that the initial shock was wearing off Kanan realized he could still feel Ezra. The relief was only momentary, as Kanan got a clearer impression of his Force signature. That wall between them, the block in their bond, was still definitely there. Something dark swirled around his retreating form. Somewhere inside that dark void Ezra was awake and terrified, fully aware and conscious of his actions but not, seemingly, able to stop himself.
What had that bastard done to his kid?!
"Commander Bridger, where are you—?" one brave pilot or technician started to say.
The lightsaber hum got louder as the blade was raised warningly.
"Don't touch him!" Kanan ordered frantically. "Ezra's not in control!"
There was a murmur of alarm as people scrambled back, getting out of the way. Kanan heard Sabine begin to pick herself up from the ground.
"Kanan, what do you mean?" she cried.
Kanan tried to probe the blockage around his padawan, but it was solid, organic like an entirely different presence had been grafted onto Ezra's and was overshadowing him. He'd never sensed anything like it before.
"I don't know..." he said, helplessly. "I think... I think he's being compelled somehow. He's in there but he's freaking out, I don't think... I don't think he has any control of what he's doing."
"He's heading for the Ghost!" Zeb called.
Hera's hands were suddenly grabbing at his clothes and he felt the tips of her lekku bounce against his front.
"Kanan, we can't let him leave!" she implored.
"I know!" he roared, pushing her to the side as he ran to intercept. "Sabine, be careful!"
Sabine was on her feet, he could already hear her scuffling with Ezra, grappling with him. Shouts rang in his ears; he quickened his pace to close the distance.
He reached the struggle just as Ezra managed to push Sabine off, once again bringing the lightsaber to bear. Both pieces of his own lightsaber were clapped together in an instant and Kanan's blade intercepted the strike, the loud clash and sizzle close in his ears.
Kanan grit his teeth and pushed back against the vigorous force.
"Come on, Ezra," he growled. "Whatever this is, fight it!"
The boy just responded by disengaging and then striking several times more, swings fast and agile, blade popping and crackling against Kanan's as he defended. Faintly Kanan could sense a trickle of despair leaking out through the massive blank that was Ezra's presence in the Force.
Ezra attacked with a ferocity that was unlike him, uncharacteristically aggressive and forceful. Despite Kanan's greater experience he found himself forced back. Hard-pressed, he gave ground, stepping backwards before the onslaught.
Low to heavy swing, blocked.
A quick uppercut following right on its heels, dodged.
He retreated, and retreated, until whatever was controlling Ezra determined he was no longer the most active threat and paused a moment in the attack, waiting to see what Kanan would do.
And that was when the others jumped in.
There was a joint cry as something pulled his padawan backwards.
"Got him!" Zeb yelled.
Growling from Ezra, empty-aired kicks as Zeb held him off the ground, both arms around his chest it sounded like.
Ezra thrashed like a cornered animal in the hold; only by virtue of the fact that Zeb was a big adult Lasat and Ezra was still a scrawny seventeen-year-old did Zeb manage to avoid getting skewered.
Sabine was wrestling him for control of the lightsaber hilt now. Kanan could hear when it was jerked free.
It dropped to the ground, deactivating.
"What do we do?" she cried.
"Stun him!" Kanan ordered, running forward.
He fumbled with his own blaster, hastily checking the settings to make sure he didn't accidentally tear a hole in Ezra's stomach.
His barrel clacked against Sabine's as they both fired, point blank.
Zeb grunted a bit, getting some of the dual stun shock himself, and Kanan heard Ezra's body go limp and boneless, his presence blip off to the normal muted mode of unconsciousness.
Kanan let out a breath of relief, danger still tingling on his senses.
He quickly helped Zeb rearrange Ezra in the Lasat's arms, stroking a hand over his face just to check for his own reassurance that the boy was still breathing. Worried murmurs whispered from all around and behind him.
As soon as Zeb had his hands under Ezra's neck and knees, they beelined for the makeshift medbay.
-SWR-
"The Old Republic facility on Balmorra was the key," AP-5 droned on, gesturing with self-importance, very proud of himself. "Once the lab results and toxicology report came back with elevated traces of Dimalium-6 in Bridger's blood, I was able to cross-reference the chemical against Imperial records of Old Republic conflicts, of which Balmorra was once part. According to those archives—which I of course still have access to—" he bragged, "—Dimalium-6 was a major component of a compound called IX serum, sometimes used in clandestine spec-ops by the Sith Empire."
Beside her, Kanan straightened a bit at that.
"I think I've heard of it," he said, quiet and sober. "Isn't that part of some kind of... brainwashing technique the Sith had?"
"Indeed," AP-5 confirmed. "The subject would be injected with the serum, often without their being aware of it. Once the serum was fully absorbed, which from reports said could take anywhere from three to thirty days, the subject was then imprinted with a code word. Once spoken, the code word would open the affected mind and force the subject to obey the subsequent commands."
Sabine shuddered, letting out a soft, horrified exhale.
Worried looks were exchanged all around the room, and then down at the cot where Ezra was sitting and absorbing everything in grim silence.
He stared straight forward, shoulders hutched. Initially the medics had insisted upon strapping down his hands, but after he awoke, disoriented once again but calm and manageable, and after Kanan had reassured them that Ezra was in control of himself again, they had undone them. Ezra looked like he wanted them back on now though, his fingers twitching towards the loose buckles, hands glumly by his sides.
"So you're saying... Maul could just say the code word to me, any time he wants..." His next inhale was shaky. "...and I'd have to do whatever he orders me to do," he concluded.
AP-5 seemed to hesitate a moment. "It is... unclear from the records whether the programming was meant for one time use or could be activated repeatedly for multiple uses," he said. "Given your previous characterization of the Dark Sider known as Maul, however, it does not seem in character for him to expend so much effort on something that could only be triggered once. So essentially... yes."
Ezra closed his eyes, his breath hitching, stuttering.
Eyes wrenching with sympathy, Sabine reached her hand over slowly to grip his, squeezing tightly.
On the other side, Hera clung to Kanan in horror. "Can it be undone?" she asked anxiously. "Reversed?"
"That was unclear as well. An Imperial Intelligence report suggested that the programming could be reset with another round of IX serum, but also cautioned that repeated uses of the serum could result in permanent brain damage."
"Karabast..." Zeb said, wiping a hand behind his head, ears drooping.
Ezra pulled his hand out of hers and curled up with his knees close to his chest, wrapping his arms around his legs in a huddle.
"...I want to be alone for a while," he said quietly.
Kanan stirred. "Ezra—" he started.
"Please," Ezra begged.
The older Jedi bit his lip a moment, then backed down. "All right," he said, ushering Hera and Zeb out of the room. AP-5 shuffled off after them.
Ezra waited for Sabine to go too.
She didn't.
"Sabine..." he groaned.
She shook her head stubbornly, eyes fierce. "I'm not going. I won't leave you alone like this."
"I almost killed you today," he said, miserably.
Sabine stepped closer to the cot. "Kanan will figure out a way to remove the conditioning," she told him.
"And what if he can't?" Ezra demanded, his tight eyes challenging her, despair etched in every line of his face. "What if the programming takes over again?"
Sabine shrugged. "Then I'll stun you as many times as it takes to reset that brain of yours."
Ezra gave a humorless laugh, dropping his gaze to his knees. "Thanks," he said, and it sounded genuine, even though his expression was bitter.
Aching, Sabine wanted to say something, give him something better than vague hopes and empty platitudes. Her eyes fell across the wristband with his personal comlink and a thought seized her.
She reached for it, peeling the strap free. Ezra startled softly a bit from her touch, watching in confusion.
"I'm gonna reset your comm frequency, okay?" she told him, holding up the wristband.
His eyes widened slightly in understanding. Maul had already demonstrated he could break into Phoenix Group's secure channel; Sabine was making sure he wouldn't be able to call in straight to Ezra and whisper that damn code word to him.
"That's a good idea," he said, gratefully. He uncurled a bit, eyes dropping once again. "I'll see you when they let me out," he told her, once again urging her to go. "If they let me out," he amended glumly.
Sabine was already half-turned, already taking steps towards the door, fiddling with his comlink, stomach pinching at the thought of anyone on the base treating Ezra like a threat, like some kind of enemy to be contained.
We'll figure this out. It'll be okay. I won't let him take you. All things Sabine wanted to say in that moment, to comfort him, to try to make him believe they would get through this.
What she wound up saying, as she cast a last anguished look back at him, was a soft, plaintive, "Be safe. Please."
Then she left to find her tools, anxiety scraping up every raw nerve inside her.