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Chapter Text

“You need someone solo to head to Kyrian? Ezra can do it. He’d probably be the best option for that mission,” was what Hera had said. An otherwise boring briefing discussing a possible solo mission to the planet Kyrian, he was all but tuned out until he heard his name.

He shot Hera a grateful look, and she smiled slightly. They looked to Commander Sato, though, for the final ruling.

He stroked his chin for a moment. “It’s dangerous… but Bridger’s capabilities as a Jedi are well suited for this mission. I approve.”

For the first time in two months, Ezra celebrated a victory. A solo mission to stretch his wings, but more importantly, get out of here, he was practically over the moon. 

Everything here at Chopper Base just felt so… heavy. He volunteered for every mission he could possibly be on, burying himself in work. It was all for a cause, and he was passionate about it. It didn’t matter how tired he was, as long as he was doing something with his hands, preferably far away from Atollon. No matter how hard he worked to forget everything, he couldn’t deny the exhaustion that had seemed to settle into his bones, making itself a home there.

But it made him stronger. He worked with the exhaustion, like a friend… or a master. He was able to work hard and produce results even with how tired he was. It was like a weight on his shoulders he constantly had to push, which meant pushing himself, which meant he got better. Stronger. More powerful. 

When he wasn’t off on missions, resupplying this or stealing that, he was training. Out in the wilderness, miles from base, working through Form IV on his own. Kanan couldn’t- or wouldn’t- teach him anymore, and that was fine. Kanan hadn’t said anything about him using the Jedi holocron to practice, so he figured he had permission. Kanan also hadn’t said anything about the Sith holocron, because he didn’t know about it.

Hopping around on the plants in the wilderness, whirling as he taught himself the jumps and spins and lunges, it was lonely. Sometimes he’d bring Chopper to shoot at him while he did it, but he almost felt embarrassed when he had an audience. What good was learning the forms if he didn’t have a lightsaber? He used a metal pole in its place, but it was heavier and harder to handle. He mourned the loss of his saber- it turned him from a powerful combatant to a kid with a stick. 

He could’ve asked to borrow Kanan’s, but what use would it have been? Even if he had said yes- which would’ve been the first time his master said anything to him in months- what was he going to do? Practice the forms with the correct weapon, sure, but it was harder on his own. Nobody to duel him, to teach him where he was going wrong, he just had to rely on himself to spot his mistakes with his stupid pole.

He had faith that maybe one day, he’d wield another saber. He didn’t want to lose time in his lightsaber training even if he never got another one, and the skills were applicable to a lot of situations even if he just had a blaster. Maybe he didn’t deserve to have another one- which was probably fair. Ahsoka was dead because of him- his master was blind because of him. It was no wonder he didn’t speak to him.

When he wasn’t fooling around with his dumb pole in the wilderness, he was pouring through a holocron- be it Sith or Jedi. The Jedi one was fine for teaching himself Form IV and other tidbits of knowledge, but he found the Sith holocron vastly different and more useful than its counterpart. It taught him… tricks. New ways of using the Force that he’d never thought of. And it strengthened other skills- his telekinesis, the all-important acrobatics, his senses… he didn’t have anyone teaching him to tell him he was doing this well and that badly, but he knew he was improving. He was getting results. In every supply run or little mission he could feel himself getting better and better against the Empire, even without a fancy laser sword. The things the Sith holocron was teaching him were working.

He wanted the Sith destroyed. What better way to do that than to use their own tactics against them? 

So, when he was offered the mission, he was happy. Happy because otherwise, he’d probably spend a week out here with nothing to do- no other mission had any room for him. “Nothing to do” meant training. Even if it was working, it was lonely. He jumped at the chance to use his new skills in the real world.

When it was just him, Sato, and Hera left at the briefing, the commander brought up a holo of a planet. Grey and green and black, swirling around like a marble.  “The planet Kyrian. Covered in forests, thin coastlines, and jet-black oceans. Often forgotten about, especially by the Empire, but habited. The mission is simple- we have a contact there who wants to pass equipment and intel to us, in exchange for helping her cross the sea safely from the capital city of Jerith to the town of Reio. Pirates want her and her cargo. Get her to Reio, she gives you some of the cargo and some important intel,” Sato explained. “She requested just one, maybe two people, anyone skilled in combat. Captain Syndulla is right, you fit the bill.”

Ezra smiled slightly. “Okay, so get her across the ocean, no problem. I land in Reio, take civilian transport on land to Jerith and pick her up, yeah? Seems easy enough.”

Hera frowned, highlighting the two towns on the holo of the planet. “Reio is very small, almost just an outpost. You could land in the wilderness, but there’s also scavengers who could take your ship or raid it for parts while you’re helping her. It’s best if you just rent a port in Jerith and take civilian transport back there once she’s across the ocean, meet her back there, load and go. It’s a bit logistically inefficient, but best if you want to avoid your ship being looted by the scavengers- which is why she hasn’t tried to make this journey by land, and she doesn’t have a ship.”

“Okay, got it. But who’s ‘she,’ anyways?” Ezra asked.

“ She is named Nyna O’Tooke,” Sato said. “She described herself to us as… a Jack of all trades. She’s a mechanic, she’s a bounty hunter- only locally, apparently, and she likes to do whatever she can to throw a wrench in the Empire’s plans. There’s an Imperial presence on Kyrian, but very small, and she is apparently notorious for messing up whatever plans they do have. So, the pirates want her for her cargo, and to collect the bounty on her head. She’s Mikkian, you’ll be able to recognize her. Blue, with purple eyes.”

“Blue with purple eyes, got it. Seems easy enough! How long does she expect the sea voyage to take? And- why can’t I just take a big ship and fly her there?”

“The pirates aren’t just in the sea, and there’s not a lot of people flying overseas,” Hera explained. “The sea voyage should take three days, so that, coupled with slow civilian transport to retrieve your ship, you should be back in ten days. Are you up for it?”

“Up for it? Hera, I was born ready. Just tell me when I can leave.”

She sighed, smiling ruefully. “Alright. You’ll be taking the Phantom; you can leave at 0400 tomorrow morning.”

Dinner that night was a rare occasion of most of the Ghost crew gathered around the Dejarik table, eating Syirilian steak that had come as a rare treat, in bulk, from the last resupply. Ezra was proud of it- he had been with a small band of pilots who extracted the crates from an Imperial shipment, and with the explosives and blasters they’d found, there had also been two whole crates of meat, enough to feed the whole base for a few days. It was an odd purple colored meat, tough, but victory tasted delicious.

Noticeably missing from the feast was Kanan. It wasn’t surprising, but there was an invisible hole where he should be. They all tried to fill it themselves, talking about their days, laughing, but they all silently acknowledged that they were an incomplete puzzle.

Ezra felt almost bitter. Kanan didn’t want to see him, he could understand that- it was his fault everything had gone wrong. But Hera, Zeb, Sabine, even Chopper, didn’t deserve his absence. They hadn’t done anything. They shouldn’t have to deal with him basically becoming a recluse because of his actions. He was bitter towards Kanan, and bitter at himself for causing this. 

But he was stronger now. He was getting more powerful. Clearly, he didn’t need his master, he was doing just fine without him. It was probably for the best he wasn’t teaching him anymore; he would never have approved of him using the Sith holocron.

But he wondered if when he was gone for almost two weeks… would Kanan eat dinner with the others? Would he go to briefings, pitch in? Would it be different without him there?

He almost ran into him after dinner- in the hall, on his way to his room. Their paths crossed, and Ezra basically flattened himself against the wall to slip by. Even though he couldn’t see, Kanan knew he was there. Ezra knew he knew he was there. But neither of them said a word.

It was cold, and painful, even if Kanan hadn’t been his teacher he was his friend and someone who he talked to every day, trusted. And now it had been radio silence for months.

And he deserved it.

When he got up in the middle of the night for water, he heard voices in Hera’s cabin. Curiosity got the better of him, and he eavesdropped.

“Ezra got assigned a solo mission,” he heard Hera say in a low voice. “He’s going to be helping a contact get some equipment across an ocean on Kyrian. It’s exciting- he’s really been thriving in the work for the Rebellion lately.”

Kanan hummed. “Good for him,” he said flatly.

He could hear the frown in Hera’s voice. “That’s it?”

“I’m sure he’ll do well… he’s been working hard and training, I think.”

“He has been training a lot… but he does it alone. Sometimes he takes Chopper.”

“I don’t really have a good way to teach him anymore, Hera,” Kanan said, sounding defeated.

“He still needs you.”

“I’ll train him when I can find a way to teach him. For now… I can’t.”

Ezra walked away towards the galley before he could hear anything else.

It was raining when he entered Kyrian, raining black liquid, staining the windshield, making it almost impossible to see in the downpour. But that’s what his training was for, right? He reached out in the Force, seeing around him that way, and was able to successfully guide his ship into the spaceport. He paid the Rodian in charge of the spaceport, enough credits to keep his ship for the next two weeks, and set out into the city of Jerith.

He was glad his disguise included a dark green poncho with a hood, keeping him half-dry and inconspicuous in the crowd. It was dark from the gray clouds, though with a tint of dark green to them, and the architecture was all squares and rectangles, cold gray durasteel, and piles of trash and scraps around. 

Apparently, he was supposed to meet Nyna in a local cantina, just three clicks from the spaceport. He found the cantina all right, but no Nyna.

He found a seat in a corner, with a good view of the entrance. Ordered something called a Bythian Rum, and sat back waiting.

As he sat, he took stock of a… weird feeling. He’d had it as soon as he’d landed. It wasn’t necessarily a bad feeling, just odd. It felt like something on this planet was calling to him, but what, he didn’t know. He couldn’t understand it, but it was just a gentle tugging, towards what, he didn’t know. 

But he couldn’t let it distract him. Nyna entered the cantina, unmistakable with her light blue skin and tendrils down to the small of her back, head free of a hood. She wore a simple yellow poncho, brown pants, and black boots. She scanned the room as she entered, and he caught her eye and gave her a knowing look.

“Suppose you’re the one the… Phoenix people sent?” Nyna asked, sitting down. Her voice had a thick accent, almost reminiscent of the accent Hera sometimes had when she got very angry. Nyna, however, just sounded tired, tendrils hanging limply down her back. 

He nodded. “My name’s Ezra Bridger. Here to help.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t expect a child to be sent… how old are you, thirteen?”

Ezra frowned. He’d gotten a growth spurt recently- and he still looked like a scrawny child? That was depressing. “Fifteen. I wouldn’t have been sent if I didn’t know what I was doing.”

“I hope you’re right. Come on, let’s get going, if it gets dark, we’ll have to wait until morning.”

Ezra bit down a snarky response of isn’t it already dark? and quickly finished his drink, leaving him with a warm buzzing in his head as he rushed to follow Nyna.

Nyna had a ship in the seaport, a small steel boat with two cabins and a galley below deck, and below that, the cargo hold. It was bigger than it looked down there, and there were probably thirty Imperial crates stacked neatly.

“Rocket launchers and ion cannons,” Nyna explained. “Deal said you’d take six crates, the rest I plan to sell.”

He helped her get the ship out of port- untying the vessel from the dock, raising the anchor, and pulling out the rough green sails. It was still raining hard, but the ship caught the wind, and before they knew it, Jerith was disappearing behind them, and all that surrounded them were the churning black waters of the ocean. They clapped the sides of the boat angrily, spraying onto them and soaking them. It was like the ocean was trying to spit them back out, screaming at them to go back where they came from.

“No pirates for the first day of the journey, but we’ll run into more trouble on the open seas, away from Jerith,” Nyna said, almost shouting as she stood on deck, showing him how to knot the sails down, as the waves heaved them, then soaked them all over again. “I’ll take first watch.”

The first night was nothing short of miserable. His poncho got soaked through when he was on duty, he felt nauseous from all the tossing of the sea, and he wasn’t able to sleep when he was relieved twice in the night. The rain never seemed to let up, like it wanted to drown them, kill them. Why did anyone want to do their business on this planet?

He felt a little bad for Nyna- she didn’t have a ship; she’d never left this awful place. Lothal had its pros and cons, but at least it was home, and didn’t feel like it was actively trying to kill him all the time.

Not the planet itself. The locals hadn’t much cared for him when he was alone as a kid, and the imperials hadn’t much cared for him when he joined the crew of the Ghost. With the presence of pirates on this planet, clearly, he’d have both the planet and the people wanting him dead. But what else was new?

Nyna didn’t wake up when it was her turn to take the third watch, much to Ezra’s chagrin, but he didn’t really feel like going to wake her up and piss her off. It was probably much better to stay on her good side; the fact that she had thirty crates of military grade weapons told him that she would be a valuable ally to the Rebellion. So, he clung to the steering yoke and tried to keep the dim yellow headlamps from flickering out as the storm raged on. The Mikkian had said that the boat was on autopilot, so he just had to make sure they didn’t get swept into any landmasses or capsize overnight. Easier said than done when wave after wave crashed over deck, and he was impressed that she could stay sleeping.

“Did you have a good night, Bridger?” 

Ezra woke with a start, feeling Nyna nudge him in the arm. He realized he’d somehow fallen asleep clutching the yoke. He felt groggy, leaning back to realize that he was still sopping wet. Amazing. At least the storm had let up, and they were now cruising through much calmer seas, no land in sight.

Nyna laughed, sitting down on the bench next to him and handing him a cup of caf. “You could have woken me up, you know. I can tell last night wasn’t exactly fun.”

“I chose to be helpful,” Ezra shot back, taking a cautious sip of the caf. It was warm, but not scalding, and it seemed to warm his body as it went down.

“Yeah, well, good job putting yourself through a Jerith seastorm. Now you’re a real Kyrian oceaneer. Get cleaned up, and then help me patch up a few things from the storm.”

Nyna slid over to take his spot at the yoke, and Ezra gratefully stood up, on legs that were somehow both stiff and wobbly, and made his way downstairs.

When he returned, in fresh clothes and feeling much better, he was put right back to work- the storm had torn some panels off the hull, which meant he would have to help fix it, which meant he got tied to a rope and lowered down with a piece of metal to patch the hole, a hammer, and a handful of nails.

Which was a great position to be in when a blaster shot whizzed within inches of his face, hitting a panel he had just fixed.

“Pirates. Climb back up!” Nyna screamed, tugging on the rope. Hauling himself up, Ezra climbed back up the side of the boat as the fire increased.

Hopping back over the side railing, he found Nyna at the yoke. “The main cannon is right up front, you’d better get on it!” she ordered. Ezra nearly lost his balance when the autopilot was disengaged and the ship heaved, Nyna yanking it into a different position.

“They just fire at us without even asking questions?” Ezra yelled, hopping into the cannon seat at the helm. It was similar to the turret on the Ghost- he had a solid 180 degrees of motion he could spin on it. 

“Welcome to Kyrian! They see a ship, they shoot it till we’re sinking then loot us,” Nyna shouted back, roughly turning the boat in a completely different direction. A wave fell over deck, soaking Ezra through once again as he tried to line up a shot.

He took his shot when the ship stabilized a little. The approaching vessel was much larger than theirs, and he could make out that they had three cannons. Still, when he heard a distant shriek, he knew he had made contact, and continued firing.

“Seacraft! Cease fire and surrender, and your crew will live,” came a voice from the other ship. If he squinted, Ezra could make out a man standing on deck with a megaphone, broadcasting the message.

“Not gonna happen,” he heard Nyna mutter, turning the ship again, then pulling a lever, increasing their speed. As Ezra scanned their surroundings, he realized her plan. There was a small island up ahead, basically just a giant rock sticking out from the sea, waves lapping at it. She was going to put it between them and the other vessel.

He turned back to the other ship, squinting to find something specific to fire at.

“Did I say to stop?” Nyna yelped, as a stray bolt whizzed over her head. Ezra tuned her out and kept looking for it… there!

He rotated the chair quickly and fired twice, sending four bolts from the twin cannons right at their rudder. Part of it broke off on impact, and another part hung off seemingly by a thread. The enemy ship lurched. He fired again.

This time, it seemed to come almost completely off, leaving just a nub there to steer their ship. Not letting up, he turned again. Bam, bam! He managed to hit one of their cannons, sending someone flying backwards and both barrels falling into the ocean.

“Atta boy!” Nyna yelled approvingly, increasing the speed even more. Waves crashed directly onto him, protesting their sudden change in pace. 

As the rocky island quickly approached, Ezra took one final shot, managing to displace their second cannon and drill a pretty large hole into the side of the other boat. As the island began to block off his view, he saw it begin to list dangerously to one side, undoubtedly beginning to fill with water.

Letting out a sigh of relief, he leaned back in the seat as the Mikkian dropped the speed, slowing them to a crawl. 

“Okay, so maybe you do know what you’re doing,” Nyna admitted as he spun around in his chair to face her.

They didn’t encounter any more pirates that day, getting back on course and sailing easily through a part of the ocean Nyna described as the Eye Strait. “They call it that because it’s like the eye of the storm… the seas from here are much rougher. Which means no pirates, but another rough night.”

Ezra groaned.

Nyna ended up being good company, talking about her life on Kyrian. She usually had to put the ship on autopilot when she made this journey, she explained, or hire someone to man the cannons. It was dangerous work, and she hadn’t been able to find anyone to help her lately who wasn’t trying to scam her, or kill her, or steal her cargo, or all three. So, she’d reached out to Phoenix Squadron- since they needed this cargo, they were less likely to try to kill her.

“Why do you do it, then? You need two people on this ship, and it’s already pretty hard for you to fend off pirates on your own,” Ezra asked.

“It’s my way of life. It wasn’t always just me- I had sisters. One went to train to be a pilot for the Empire, ” Nyna spat, “And the other got killed in a pirate encounter. This ship isn’t set up for one person to pilot, I know, but the sea’s all I’ve ever known. I’d rather die having a good time out here, alone, than go work some minimum wage job in Jerith. I mean, I’m just as much a pirate as anyone else out here… I just don’t shoot down other ships unprovoked. Usually .”

“I get it,” Ezra said quietly. “That’s kinda how I feel about being in Phoenix Squadron- I could have stayed put on Lothal, found a job, had a normal life, but I can do something against the Empire. I can, so I have to. And it’s fun to be in danger, avoiding TIEs and stormtroopers. Most of the time, anyway.”

Nyna smiled. “Life’s better lived staring down the barrel of a gun.”

They faded into silence, Ezra scanning the boat, feeling like he was on the edge of something, when a lightbulb flicked on in his brain. “Nyna- do you have any metal rope?”

“A few bolts of it, down in my quarters- why?”

As the sun set, giving way to a dark green murky twilight, Ezra rigged up a contraption with steel rope, wires, and twine, and a few spare parts he found laying around. It attached the cannons to the small podium where the yoke and the other instruments were, allowing Nyna to rotate and fire the cannons from her spot. It wasn’t perfect, but it would be much better for her if she was ever out here on her own again, and it still allowed him to use the cannons himself.

“You’re pretty handy, kid,” Nyna said, testing the cannons on a few floating logs. Right from the captain’s bench, she was able to fire, sparing her from having to run back and forth between steering and firing. “You work on ships before?”

“Spaceships, yes. It all works mostly the same.”

“Maybe you do know what you’re doing,” she said, smiling wide.

After another rough night- at least this time Nyna had relieved him in the middle of the night- Ezra was still exhausted. The sea still seemed to want to kill him, and it wasn’t like he could connect with it, like an animal.

He had tried. Several times. 

The feeling of the gentle tugging had returned to him as the sun rose that morning- the feeling of something calling, that he’d felt when he first landed on this blasted planet. It was stronger this time, though, more urgent. He could practically hear Kanan quietly saying that  the force is trying to tell you something. Listen to it.

When he got in touch with Hera via his handheld hologram comm, he definitely did not hear Kanan.

“Status update?” Hera said, looking focused in the palm of his hand, arms crossed.

“I think this planet is trying to kill me. Nyna says we have another day before we reach Reio,” Ezra said. 

“Sounds like fun. Everything okay?”

“Yep, I just can’t seem to catch a break from the waves. And none of the locals are very friendly- we had to shoot a pirate ship.”

“Hate to interrupt, but I think we’ll have to shoot another one,” Nyna said from behind him. “Look to the west, Bridger.”

He snapped to attention, peering out from his spot at the control panel. Sure enough, there was a ship. And if he had thought the last one was big… this one was massive, practically the side of an Imperial light cruiser, if it was a boat. 

“Gonna have to divert my attention. I’ll be home soon, Spectre Two,” Ezra said, snapping off the holo before Hera could protest. “You think they see us yet?”

Nyna gave him a grim look. “They’ll see us soon. Get in the cannons. That’s the Disaster. I haven’t encountered it in a long time… and the last time I did, they shot my old ship to pieces.”

“They sound like tons of fun!” Ezra called, running to the helm and hopping into the seat. The cannons had a small scope to help with aiming. He peered into it, studying the ship. It looked like a bear he did not want to poke.

“Exactly! They’re everyone’s besties. Nobody wants to go anywhere near them- if we get in firing range, we’re practically dead already.”

“Any chance they’ll just… let us pass?”

“Not if they spot us. Especially in this brig- it’s too easy a target.”

Ezra felt the tug again, even stronger. He heard something, very faintly… like a song. Maybe it was just music from the enemy ship- but he had a feeling it was something much different.

It felt like a pull in the Force. Like something begging him to find it.

And the lurch the ship made felt like they had been hit by the ship.

“I think they saw us,” Ezra muttered, focusing back on the ship. Sure enough, it was now pulling around… pulling around to come right towards them.

“Kriff,” Nyna swore, disengaging the autopilot. The ship lurched again, and then again when she pulled to increase speed. “There’s a fork in the ocean a few clicks ahead, where it meets land- we need to go right to get to Reio, but if we head left, we could probably lose them. Parts of the left passage are too narrow for a ship that big. The only problem is getting there in one piece.”

Ezra couldn’t even see land at the horizon, so the whole getting there in one piece felt like a rather large challenge. The Disaster was practically barreling towards them, and he heard distant shouts. 

“If they board the ship- the hold is locked, but we’ll probably have to play a bit of hand-to-hand combat. How good a fighter are you?” Nyna yelled.

Ezra spun the cannons around and began firing, not letting up for a second as he focused on their hull and their cannons. They had four on each side, plus a high turret and a helm gun.

“You’d be surprised, it’s one of my specialties,” Ezra said grimly. 

“I sure hope so.”

The ship did not let up speed, racing to meet them, so fast Ezra was scared they might collide. The bigger ship could probably take the hit- they sure couldn’t. He managed to take out one cannon, but this ship was much more skillfully piloted than the other one they’d encountered. When it slowed down, he took his shot and knocked out another cannon- but victory was cut short when he saw a grappling rope fire, and lock onto the side of their ship.

“They’re gonna board. Try to cut the wire!” Nyna screamed, tossing him the cutters he’d used yesterday afternoon. Ezra leapt from the cannons, tying a rope around his waist as he ventured onto the side of the boat, as two more grapples were fired, locking the ship. He felt Nyna’s desperate attempts for more speed nearly knock him off the side of the boat as he hacked away at the first grapple.

Their problems went from bad to worse when the enemy ship opened fire again.

Yelling in surprise, Ezra lost his balance, standing sideways on the hull, now hanging down facing the lapping black waves. Bolts whizzed by him, hitting the boat, only narrowly avoiding him.

“Bridger, be careful!” he heard Nyna yell distantly.

“Doing my best,” Ezra muttered, righting himself even in the heavy fire. He managed to cut two of the grapples free- but four more were fired, and the enemy ship was closing in.

“I’m gonna take a different plan of attack,” Ezra screamed, climbing back up the side of the ship, then running to the other side of the deck.

“What the hell are you doing?” Nyna yelled.

Ezra didn’t respond, but as soon as he hit the railing on the other side, he turned around and bolted for the other side of the deck. Pulling on the Force, he used it to increase his momentum, to make the still sizable leap onto the other ship’s deck.

Times when I wish I had a lightsaber, Ezra grumbled internally as he landed on the deck with a roll Kanan would have been proud of.

Taking advantage of the element of surprise, he used a Force push to knock the goons who were firing the cannons overboard. But there were a lot of pirates on deck, waving swords and blasters that were now all pointed at him.

Swords. That might be the key here.

He hopped onto one of the cannons, barely maintaining his balance when the ship lurched towards Nyna’s. He leapt above the pirates and fell on the other side of the crowd, and pushed again with the Force, knocking most of them down. The nearest one to him was a yellow Zabrak- looking scarily like Maul, he realized with a start, but he shook his head and stole the Zabrak’s sword.

It was heavy, and a little too long for him, but it’d have to do.

What followed was a blur, swords clanging with metal on metal as Ezra fought his way through the pirates. The sword worked well enough in deflecting blaster fire, as well, taking out even more. It was him against a crowd of probably twenty people who all wanted him dead- which was a pretty standard Tuesday for him.

He didn’t disarm or wound everyone, just enough to be able to clear himself a path to the control room, a tiny box on deck where two people sat inside. A Mirialan man and a rugged looking human barely had time to react when he shattered the door, sending broken glass flying as he broke in.

A simple Force push- a bit harder than he needed to, he realized distantly- sent the pair flying, leaving Ezra at the controls with a decision to make.

It wasn’t as easy as it would have been with a lightsaber, but he managed to slash through the controls, rendering the ship uncontrollable. Sabotaging the engine would have been better, but this would have to do, because another pirate was leaping at him, and he met him, swords clanging as they locked weapons.

He shoved the pirate off him, using his body to leap away from the control room and towards the grapple cannons. He’d have to detach the ship from here.

“Ezra, help!” Nyna screamed, making him jump. He snapped to follow her cry, finding her trying to fight two pirates off from the deck of her own ship.

Making a quick decision, he detached most of the grappling ropes, but when Nyna cried out in pain, he had to leap from here to the other ship to rescue her.

What he didn’t plan for was someone firing at him, hitting him in the shoulder and knocking him into the angrily churning sea. 

The sea was a lot clearer than it appeared from above, but still murky and gross. Ezra writhed in pain, trying to fight his way back up to the surface. Something stopped him as he desperately tried to swim up.

It sounded like a call. Begging him to investigate, tugging at him like a rope. Calling, calling… Ezra, it seemed to whisper.

Against his better judgment, Ezra followed, swimming down to follow it. Just to check it out.

His lungs burned. He searched desperately for the source of the call, hearing it louder and louder, then finally finding a pile of algae covered rocks. Kicking at them with some of the last dregs of his strength, he could see much clearer now.

Because there was a crystal, shining bright green, illuminating the structure of rock that it had been tucked away in.

A kyber  crystal.

He grabbed it hastily, drawing it to his chest. His lungs burned urgently, as well as his eyes, protesting the grime of the ocean, and his lungs protesting the lack of air. 

Stuffing it into a pocket of his pants as he swam up, he barely managed to close the button to keep the crystal in place. Once it was secure, he pushed on the Force, letting it carry him up to the surface.

Air, wonderful air filled his lungs as he gasped, treading water for a moment. He heard blaster fire above, and he quickly swam to the hull of Nyna’s ship, using unevenly placed panels to climb up.

He found Nyna, holding a pirate’s blaster, fighting desperately to keep her ship. She turned and fired at him. He ducked, barely missing it.

“Sorry!” Nyna yelled, dodging a bolt from a pirate, herself. “I thought you were dead!”

“Me too,” Ezra yelled, grabbing another sword from a fallen pirate. Then, grabbing him by the arm, he heaved him up, tossing him off the edge of the ship.

“If you can get our friends off my deck, and the last rope detached, I can get us away,” Nyna screamed. 

“On it!”

Ezra pushed on the Force again, hard, sending three pirates flying back overboard. Six remained on deck, and he thought back to the Sith holocron. The tricks it had taught him.

He could do better than a Force push. 

Distracting one pirate by charging him with the sword, he reached out in the Force, pulling on the signature of another pirate. It was hard to pull and fight at the same time, but the pirate’s mind was weak.

Jump, Ezra whispered through the Force.

The pirate obeyed, jumping overboard on his own.

Ezra pushed back on the one he’d been fighting, sending him flying. A slash across the abdomen and a push while he pulled on someone else’s mind.

Shoot one of your crewmates, then jump.

The pirate, another Mirialan, obeyed. He fired at a red Twi-Lek, then jumped off the ship. Ezra pushed the one he had wounded himself off, then the Twi-Lek, then all that was left was another Zabrak that he easily bent the mind of. He jumped to his doom to follow the others.

Ezra grabbed one of the ropes that hung from the sail and swung out over the side of the ship, slashing the final grapple in one swift motion. He landed on the back of the ship as it lurched, knocking him off his feet.

“Get us out of here!” he screamed, trying to stand. He saw Nyna pull on the lever as hard as she could, and then they were practically flying across the waves, leaving the crippled ship and whatever was left of its crew in the dust.

They ended up taking the right path instead of the left, as Ezra settled heavily onto the bench next to Nyna. No way could they follow them for a few days, their controls were damaged and a few of their cannons were destroyed, not to mention the new staffing issue.

Ezra didn’t spare a thought to the pirates he had mind controlled. They deserved it. They’d tried to kill him- he’d just been faster.

But when they were a few clicks down the right path, the disaster that was the Disaster completely out of sight, Nyna gave him a look. It took him a second to recognize it was a look of fear.

“How did you… how did you do that?” she asked, voice shaking.

“Just a few tricks I picked up recently,” Ezra said, shrugging, regretting it instantly as his shoulder panged. “Karabast… forgot they shot me. You okay?”

She looked like she was considering for a moment, then showed him a thin wound on her forearm, dripping blood slowly. “Just a graze from a sword. I’ll get the medkit.”

He was about to offer to get it himself when she scurried off, holding her arm.

It hit him that he had scared her.

Why was she scared? He wasn’t going to do anything to her- he had done all that to help her. What was her problem?

Maybe she’d never seen or heard of a Jedi before? Hopefully if he just explained it, she would be okay. Otherwise, it’d be a very awkward few last days.

She returned with the medkit, still looking like a scared animal. Once she set it down, Ezra opened it up and got to work on her injury first.

“I can do it myself-” she protested in a small voice, as he cleaned the cut.

He met her eyes. “It’s on your arm- would be pretty hard to secure the bandages one handed,” he said. 

She looked terrified. 

He sighed, grabbing a cloth to press to her cut, feeling guilty when she hissed in pain. “Just trying to stop the bleeding,” he said quietly.

They sat silently for a few minutes, only the hum of the ship and the waves clapping against the ship providing sound. 

“Nyna… I’m a Jedi. Or- well- training to be one, anyways. That’s how I pulled off all that… stuff. I’m sorry if that scared you,” he said quietly. He remembered when he first saw Kanan pull out his lightsaber on Kessel- the awe and confusion he had felt when he saw him use it, and push out with the Force. Fear was not a far jump from those emotions, and he felt bad for invoking it in her.

He just wanted to protect her- why was she so scared?

“Sorry- just surprised me, is all. I’ve never seen anything like it,” she said, voice shaking a little. He hoped it was just from the pain. “How did you- I- I’ve heard stories about the Jedi, but nothing like that. ”

“Just a bit of pushing and pulling on the Force,” Ezra said, deciding an actual explanation would probably freak her out more. He pulled the cloth away, satisfied when he saw it had begun to clot. He grabbed a bacta patch and placed it gently over the wound, smoothed it out with his hand, then wrapped her arm in a white bandage to hold it. 

“Your turn, Master Jedi,” Nyna joked, appearing to have recovered her senses a bit. Ezra rolled his eyes, smiling, and took his shirt off halfway, allowing her to inspect the wound on his shoulder.

“Yikes, it actually went kinda deep. How have you been moving your arm this whole time?”

Painfully, he thought. “The same way I always do,” he responded out loud.

She snorted, grabbing a spray bottle of bacta. It was his turn to hiss in pain when it hit his skin, stinging. 

While she worked on it, he finally let his adrenaline boil down and realize how much pain he was in. By the time she was done, his whole shoulder was bandaged up and he could barely move it.

He really hoped they didn’t run into any more pirates on this mission.

That night, Nyna took first watch. It was storming again, but he managed to balance on the floor of his small cabin, kneeling. He pulled the crystal out of his pocket and turned it over in his hands. No denying it- this was a kyber crystal.

Since when did crystals just hang out on the bottom of the ocean? He wished he knew the story of how it had ended up there.

He set it on the floor of the cabin and closed his eyes, focusing. Meditation was something that didn’t often come easy to him, but he was especially tired after everything that day, which always seemed to help his busy mind settle when he sat and focused.

He focused on the crystal, returning its call with a call of his own. Are you mine?

He was vaguely aware he was levitating the crystal, and it was hovering at about eye level. The ship rocked, almost soothing as he focused.

It hummed in the force, almost smiling at him. This felt so right in the Force, in his heart, in his bones.

He remembered his first crystal- the way it shone at him in the Force. He had been confused when he first got it. He remembered Kanan’s proud face when he explained what it was- remembered the sense of pride that swept over him, too, that he had a lightsaber crystal now.

He felt that pride wash over him again as this crystal shone in the Force as well, differently than his old one- like a different energy. It shone green- what did that mean? He’d have to consult the Holocron when he got home. It felt right- he’d loved the blue of his old one, how it matched with Kanan’s, but this one was different. In fact, it felt more powerful than his old one, like he’d grown into something far greater than the first.

Ezra realized with a start that his instinct hadn’t been to ask Kanan about the color, to tell him excitedly about how he’d gotten it- his instinct was to ask the Holocron. To figure out building another saber on his own.

He felt across his side of their Force bond- it was mostly closed nowadays, something Kanan had requested in the Phantom, flying away from Malachor, barely conscious as Ezra tried desperately to apply bacta to his face. 

There was a tiny crack in it though, and he nudged it gently- not enough to let Kanan know, but just to feel at it. 

It just felt slightly cold, like grief, and a swirl of sadness floated through the crack. 

He retreated from the border before he let him know he’d been there.

He deserved this, he knew that… but that didn’t make it hurt any less.

As much as he tried to train himself, it felt so lonely. He missed Kanan bitterly- he wished he would open the bond up enough for him to slip through, to tell him proudly about his new crystal, to have Kanan’s force signature beam proudly back at him.

But he didn’t deserve that. 

The crystal was here, though, humming at him, shining bright, bold green on his face and through the Force, there to beam at him when nobody else could- or would.

Kanan would never see the green of his new saber.

He nearly broke his concentration with that realization, but gripped the crystal, using it to pull him back into his meditative state. It was his fault, but he couldn’t focus on that now.

He could focus on how much stronger he’d be now with a real lightsaber again. He could have dealt with the pirates much quicker with such a weapon- now he had it. Nobody would be any match for him. He’d been training for this. Nobody would get hurt if he had anything to say about it- not with this new weapon in his hands. His friends would be safe. He would be better. More powerful. Nobody would get hurt on his watch, now.

They ran into one more ship on their way to Reio, but this one was much smaller, and they were able to fire at it until one of their cannons went tumbling into the ocean, and that seemed to scare them away. The bad news was that storms delayed them further, and they docked in the small town after a five-day journey by sea. When he hit solid ground again, the world seemed to tip up towards him, nearly knocking him over.

Nyna chuckled. “Have fun with your sea legs, Bridger.”

He rolled his eyes and jumped to the dock to help tie her ship down.

They spent the rest of the day moving crates from the ship to a house a few miles from port, which was empty, uninhabited, and cold, with only a few rooms and a tiny bit of furniture inside. But down below was a giant cellar to put the crates in. The problem was that there was only one speeder bike, so they could only move four crates at a time. With thirty, the operation took hours, and as soon as they were done, he had to grab his stuff and head to the bus station.

“See you in a few days, Master,” Nyna called after him as he ran to not miss the 2100 bus. He turned around, gave her a little wave, then continued his sprint.

The bus was a hovercraft, beaten up, with only a handful of passengers. He bought a seat just in time, and hopped in just as it was getting ready to leave.

It smelled awful inside, and the seats were torn up, some of them spilling their stuffing out. But he could feel the kyber crystal humming in his pocket. He’d be fine.

It was a four-day journey back to Jerith, and then he was finally back on the Phantom, flying over the roads that had taken days to journey by transport. He was so ready to be off this planet.

Once he returned to Nyna’s house, she helped him load up his six crates, and then he was ready to go.

She stopped him as he made his final checks to the Phantom, pushing along another crate. “Figured I’d throw one more in, since you did turn out to be helpful,” she said quietly, looking at her feet.

“Thank you,” Ezra said, smiling and taking the container inside. No room in the hold, so he plopped it down in the middle of the cabin. “I guess this is goodbye, then?”

She opened her mouth, hesitated, then finally asked, “If you want… you could stay here. You’d take a 50/50 cut of the profits- we make a good team.”

As much as he’d grown to like Nyna- he couldn’t abandon the Rebellion.

He hated how he thought about how he’d be away from the oppressive black cloud that seemed to hang over base, how he’d be free with nobody to tell him what to do.

But his friends needed him, and this planet sucked.

“I have to get back. They need me,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry.”

She nodded. “Then it’s been an honor to meet you, Ezra. Let me know if you ever need a sea captain in the Rebellion.”

“Do you want to come with me?” he offered. She shook her head.

“I know my place- and I don’t think you guys are waging many sea battles. If you ever need a specialist, you know where to look.”

“Yeah, we’re much more popular up in space, but are you sure?”

She nodded, giving him a pat on his good shoulder, and stepping clear of the Phantom. “I’m sure. Safe travels, Bridger.”

“Try not to get killed out there,” Ezra said, giving her a smile as he reached for the panel to close the door.

“You too.”

He flew away, and he’d never been so grateful to see the dark black of space, and the stars dotting the sky. He tapped his comm. “Spectre Six to base, entering Hyperspace. See you soon.”

Chapter Text

“Seven crates?” Hera asked, amused. “The deal we struck said we’d get six.”

“Well, the deal changed. She threw in a seventh because I was apparently very helpful,” Ezra responded in a half-joking, half monotone voice. He didn’t pause in his work, lifting crates from inside the hold to Sabine, who was pulling them up the rest of the way with a magnetizer and hauling them out of the Phantom. 

“What kind of very helpful?”

“Pirates. Lots of em. I made myself useful, that’s all.” His voice turned flatter, less joking. 

“I see,” Hera said, raising an eyebrow at him when he hauled himself up from the hold. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I got shot at, but it just grazed me,” he admitted. “I’ll live.”

Hera sighed. “Get it checked out, please.”

Ezra shut off the computers on the Phantom and left it, closing the door behind him, moving to help Sabine with the crates. Then, he stopped, and pulled the crystal out of his pocket.

“Look, Hera,” he said softly. She peered into his cupped hand, then gave him a confused look.

“What is that?”

“It’s a kyber crystal. I found another one when I got tossed overboard.”

“You got tossed- you found another-” Hera couldn’t decide what to focus on. 

“Woah, you found another crystal?” Sabine asked, overhearing. Zeb followed suit, and the three of them crowded around Ezra, looking at the little glowing green crystal.

“It’s a different color,” Zeb observed.

“Yeah. But I bet it means something. At any rate, I’ll have a new lightsaber now.”

Hera smiled, proudly, and placed a hand on his shoulder. “That’s great, Ezra. I’m happy for you. I’m sure Kanan will be proud as well.”

That sucked the life out of the conversation. Ezra frowned, then stuffed the crystal back in his pocket. “Yeah, I’m sure he will be,” he said flatly. He walked away, to move the crates.

The trio left standing there exchanged a look, and went back to their duties.

Hera insisted Ezra tell Kanan about his new crystal. Begrudgingly, he obliged that night, seeking out Kanan after dinner. He hadn’t eaten with the rest of them. He wondered if he had been before Ezra got back.

He found him meditating by the side of the Ghost. With his mask over his eyes, and his new beard, he felt so unreachable to Ezra.

“Hey, Kanan,” he said quietly. It felt like talking to a stranger.

“Ezra,” Kanan acknowledged. His voice was unreadable. He couldn’t tell if he was mad at him, sad, or what.

“I… I found another kyber crystal on my mission.”

Kanan’s pose didn’t change. “That’s great,” he said.

He hadn’t moved. He didn’t feel any emotion through the tiny crack of their bond, he didn’t hear any emotion in his voice, and he hadn’t moved. 

Well, Hera, I told him, Ezra thought, as he turned tail and walked away.

He thought he might have heard Kanan call out to him, but he wasn’t sure. He walked away quickly, almost a run, towards the base.

In the center of activity, ships coming and going, Ezra got to work. He needed parts. Power converters, metal, any scraps he could find to make this work.

He felt flashbacks of the last time he’d built a saber tug in his mind. It felt like playing the same role all over again when he asked Sabine, Zeb, and Chopper for parts. But this time, he didn’t ask Kanan.

He didn’t ask Kanan, but he took a ring of metal he had laying around in a scrap drawer in his cabin. Hopefully it wasn’t important.

He asked Hera for a power vortex ring, a few days after he came back. He’d been avoiding asking her- but Hera was softer to him than Kanan was. If she blamed him for Malachor, she had a really weird way of showing it. In fact, it felt like Hera had been more focused on Ezra recently- assigning him missions, giving him more flying lessons.

That day, when he finally asked her, she was sitting in the cockpit, fixing an entire panel of controls she’d pulled out of the wall. She was able to meet his eye and still continue working on the panel, a skill Ezra wished he had.

“You didn’t need that last time,” Hera said, questioningly.

Ezra sighed. “I know. This time is… different. I’m making it different. Better. It won’t have a blaster on it this time… but it’ll be more powerful. It’s already going to be a different color, I think… you saw the crystal.”

She nodded. “It’s beautiful. Green is my favorite color, you know.”

That made him wonder, almost startlingly so, if there was another reason Kanan’s signature color seemed to be green.

“I like it too. It’s different. But to have different, I need a power vortex ring.”

Hera thought for a moment. “Okay. I do have a ring- but it’s not exactly laying around in a junk drawer.”

Ezra raised an eyebrow. “Where is it?”

She smiled. “In the hyperdrive. Now, we don’t need it in there- but if you want the ring, you’d have to make some repairs for the core to run alternatively.”

He took a step back as he really let her words sink in. “You’re… trusting me to fix the hyperdrive?” The only people who got to touch the hyperdrive were Hera and Chopper, and sometimes Sabine. And Tseebo, the one time.

“Why not? You fixed the hyperdrive on the Liberator when you got to go with Sato to Kijimi. While being chased by TIEs, I might add.”

Ezra almost smiled. He had been proud of that moment- he hadn’t just been studying the Force and training his body. He had done serious reading on ship mechanics, hyperdrives included, and helped the mechanics out when he could. When it came in handy in the middle of a battle, all those sleepless nights staring at a datapad were worth it, or the hours spent tinkering under the hull of an A-Wing. Improving his mind was as important as his body- what was brawn if it wasn’t accompanied with a bit of brain?

“Yeah, I did do that,” he said slowly. Even with all the reading and working he’d done- this was the Ghost, and Hera had historically trusted very few people to touch the major repairs. The closest he’d ever gotten to it was the navi-computer, not the actual hyperdrive.

So, when this wasn’t even an essential repair, he was more than a little bit taken aback that she suggested it.

“So, you can handle the Ghost. Besides the Liberator, I know you’ve been studying and working on ship mechanics- don’t think I don’t notice when you’re up at all hours.”

He could tell, as much as he hated to, that Hera worried. The slight crease between her eyebrows… the soft look in her eyes. And it confused him- he was doing everything he could to be better for the Rebellion. Studying everything, training everything, taking on mission after mission, battle after battle. Why did that bother her? She had devoted herself to the cause long before he had, long before anyone on her crew knew the full scale of the cause they were working for. She had been in more battles than either of them could count. She’d spent many a sleepless night working on something for the Rebellion. To do better for it. So why did it matter that he was doing better for it, too?

He decided not to voice his concerns. He was worried what her response might be.

“Okay. If you trust me, okay.”

“Alright then,” Hera said, setting the panel down gingerly. “Before you go poking around in there, what are you going to swap the vortex ring out with?”

“Vortex ring directs power centrally, to push the ship into hyperspace, rather than have all the energy move all over the place. But a much better way to do that in a hyperdrive is a Hytian centralizer core. It does it more efficiently and more powerfully- way too powerful for a lightsaber, it’d be unstable, but perfect for a hyperdrive.”

She nodded. “I picked one up last week on a supply mission to Natos IV, when you were gone- just haven’t had a chance to work on it. I’ll have Chopper supervise, and I’ll be right here- but otherwise…” Hera shrugged. “Go for it, kid.”

Figures, she’d have Chopper make sure he was doing it right. He knew he wasn’t being completely trusted. But he’d get there. He would earn trust by delivering victory after victory to the Rebellion.

The repair took a long time, but he saw why he was the one doing it. The hyperdrive was nestled in the floor under the cockpit, and it was a tight squeeze, even for him, still small even if he was having a growth spurt. Chopper kept watch leaning over the hatch, blocking all the light, forcing Ezra to rig up a glow rod on a wall with some electrical tape to even see what he was doing.

Twelve hours and a lot of arguing with the droid later, Ezra was able to pull himself out of the hatch, holding that all-important vortex ring.

Hera had long since finished her repairs, and the cockpit was empty, even Chopper having rolled away, grumbling. It was kinda nice, getting to look out at Atollon from here at night, nobody else around. It was quiet, and still. Stars twinkling just outside, seemingly just out of reach, Atollon’s moon illuminating the base slightly in yellow light. The light was only so powerful: haggard shadows lingered on every ship, every crate, and made every passerby look slightly odd, like they were possessed.

All of a sudden, he heard footsteps approaching. Better to look busy- he quickly knelt back down on the floor to screw the panel back into place.

The doors hissed. It wasn’t Sabine or Zeb or even Hera, like he’d expected. In the doorway stood Kanan.

Ezra held his breath. He would sneak out, but the panel was still open. He couldn’t exactly let Kanan fall down into the hyperdrive.

Speaking of which, he grabbed the ring silently, and stuffed it in a pocket. Trip hazard, now that Kanan couldn’t see.

Kanan stood there for a moment, only moving as he felt out the doorframe and a wall. Ezra didn’t move a muscle now, just staring up at him, waiting for him to sense him there.

If he did, he didn’t mention it. He walked right by, feeling his way out to the cockpit. Ezra watched as he lowered himself into the pilot’s chair and felt out the controls.

His master let out a sigh. “No… I can’t,” he said, sounding bitter and frustrated. If he wasn’t sure it would make it worse, Ezra would have reached out to comfort him. He felt the emotions swirling- the biggest one of all suffocating grief.

He watched as Kanan walked out quickly, feeling his way out gently on one wall, fingertips brushing buttons.

He felt so wrong. Kanan hadn’t realized he was there, and he definitely wasn’t supposed to see that. He wouldn’t have wanted anyone to see him admit he couldn’t do something, so it felt like a violation of privacy to have seen his master like that.

Ezra got back to work screwing in the panel. It helped to focus on it. Mundane, predictable. Ten tiny screws going back exactly where they were before, tightened the same way every time by a tiny screwdriver. It helped to do something simple to ignore the cloud that Kanan had left in his wake, the emotions a mix that all united in one common theme- pain. 

And it did, it really did hurt to feel, even if he’d never admit it to anyone. It certainly didn’t hurt him as much as Kanan had to be hurting, but to feel all those emotions and know that he would only make them worse, his existence would only make them worse- it felt like it clawed deep into every bit of his being. Weakening him.

He had to force them away. He didn’t need to feel this. It would only make him weak. Pain was a weakness. Kanan could be weak- he couldn’t. He had a duty.

He screwed the panel in, perhaps tighter than he needed to, and made his way to the galley, thankful to see that the only person in there was Hera, leaning against a wall as she sipped a steaming cup of caf. 

“Your hyperdrive is upgraded, and Chopper didn’t kill me,” he reported quietly, walking past her to open up a cabinet in search of food. Twelve hours in one position, working painstakingly, did give one an appetite.

“Good work. There’s jerky in the lower cabinet- I’m afraid it’s that and ration bars.”

He found the jerky, a pink plastic package with smaller packets of jerky inside- serving size. He was hungry enough for five, at least, but opted for one. He didn’t even feel like he would finish it- his stomach was twisting unhappily at the emotions in his head.

“Eat, then go to bed,” Hera said, quiet but firm. “It’s 0300- I didn’t mean for you to work on it the entire day.”

He kept his back turned to her as he inspected the junk drawer, looking for spare bits of wiring. One he produced the exact blue wire he’d wanted, he slid it shut slowly. He almost winced hearing the magnet gently click into place. If he’d known it was that late, he would have been whispering to Hera.

“I’m not kidding, you can find more parts tomorrow,” she said. He heard her footsteps, then felt a hand on his shoulder.

He tensed. 

“Sorry-” Hera said, not removing her hand. She gave him a light squeeze. “Thank you, though. But no overworking. Eat, then bed.”

He obliged, halfway, anyways. Not bothering to get into his pajamas, he took off his boots and slid into bed as quietly as possible. Zeb snored, unbothered, and Ezra sat cross legged on the bed, holding the jerky and the vortex ring.

Contemplating for a moment, he thought back to all the emotions- even with his mask on, he could feel Kanan’s feelings. He still felt them, like aftershocks coursing through his body angrily.

He shoved the wire and ring onto the shelf next to his bunk, shoved the jerky in his pocket, and laid down, giving up on eating.

It was too bad that sleep had also given up on him.

The next morning- or rather, a few hours later, there was no mission to go on, nothing to fix. It was either time to train, or scrounge up more parts for his lightsaber- whatever would get him far, far away from the swirling emotions of his master, which felt like pins and needles on his skin.

He was more aware of them, now, or maybe his own were mixing in, or the memory from last night was just that strong. Whatever it was, it was more than a dark cloud- it was a dark being, hovering over him, beating down on him.

He went into the main area of the base. Fast, too, skipping breakfast. He still wasn’t hungry, and he had a shopping list of parts to get.

It had taken weeks to get the parts he needed last time, working just from whatever odds and ends the crew had on hand. This time, he had over a hundred people on hand, and a dozen or so droids. Way more options, way easier time getting what he needed.

Last time, his saber felt like it was made of bits of his family. It still felt like it was going to be like that, but this time, not just them- the Rebellion as a whole. He was building a saber from whatever he could find, so that he could protect them. Serve them better. Win.

It already felt like more power was coursing through him as he collected parts. He basked in it- it was better than basking in the dark being hovering over base with Kanan.

It took him two weeks to get the parts for his first lightsaber. He felt blessed to have completed the process in only three days, here at Chopper Base.

At dinner- just him and Hera and Sabine- Zeb was on a recon mission and Kanan was force-only-knows-where- he told them he needed a few days alone. He was going to find a quiet place to build his lightsaber- he’d bring his comm, but only page if it was important. He needed to focus.

He could tell Hera didn’t like that idea. She pleaded with him to just build it here- but he didn’t budge.

Even the next morning, before the sun had risen, standing on the ramp clutching a sensor beacon and a bag with all his parts, Hera protested.

Why was she so against this? He was doing what he needed to do. To be better. Stronger. To make sure nothing happened to anyone ever again.

“You sure you can’t just build it here?” Hera asked, for what felt like the millionth time. She sounded equal parts exasperated and just… sad.

Kanan wasn’t the only one adding to the cloud. If he built the lightsaber here, it would be weak, filled with those emotions. He had to be on his own. To make it strong.

“I think I need to be alone for this part. It’s different this time. And even then… I built the first one mostly by myself. But I need to focus more this time. I can’t do that here,” Ezra explained. He walked away before she could protest again.

Alone now on the ramp of the Ghost, Hera sighed, thinking about what to do. Ezra was distant and always working hard, and if not working, training. He was so devoted, which was fine, necessary, even- but she felt like he was getting more and more distant every day, more focused on… everything but family and himself. 

And Kanan was detached from everyone. She didn’t have to be a fancy Jedi to know that he probably hadn’t reacted well to Ezra telling him about the crystal- if at all. She knew he wasn’t going with him to build it, and that bothered her just as much. Kanan had let him be mostly on his own the first time, but she’d heard him ask for help or “how do I make this fit” a few times.

She walked down from the ramp and around the ship, searching for him. She found him kneeling in the sand, quiet. The mask he wore was for medical reasons- his eyes being exposed to the sun could hurt him- but it didn’t make it any less hard that she couldn’t read the emotions on his face.

She sat down next to him, saying nothing.

“Hera,” he said quietly. He laid a hand on her thigh.

She put her hand over his, squeezing it gently. “Did Ezra tell you about his crystal?”

“Yeah.” He paused. “It’s great.” Flat. Just like Ezra. Even if they didn’t really talk anymore, they were so painfully alike. They could still find ways to annoy her even when not communicating.

She sighed. “Okay,” was all she said.

“Okay? What does that mean?” Kanan asked, turning around to face her- before remembering he couldn’t see. Even with that mask covering most of his face, Hera could see the flash of pain, and winced, herself.

“It means okay,” Hera said. She decided to shelve it all, to bring it up another time. Maybe that was what both of her Jedi needed- more time. “That’s all.”

Ezra found a cave. Cool, dark. The sensor beacon sat at the entrance, and the cave didn’t go very deep, ending about fifty feet from the entrance. The ceiling was low. It was quiet.

The actual basic assembly wasn’t that hard. He could fix a hyperdrive, so he could build a lightsaber. It was just a matter of remembering how he’d done it the first time- and studying handwritten instructions copied from the holocron.

And remembering the way Kanan had guided him through it the first time.

“I want to build this myself,” Ezra said, crossing his arms.

“I don’t have an issue with that. But it is very easy to put a part in backwards and have the whole thing explode. You would not be the first padawan to do that,” Kanan said, almost cheerfully.

“I’m smart. I know how machines work… sorta. I can figure this out. Besides, you said half of this is meditation- how hard could it be?”

Kanan snorted. “This coming from the kid who hates every second of meditation lessons. How long did it take you to actually meditate again? Three months of lessons?”

“Meditation isn’t hard. It’s just focus that’s hard.”

“Meditation is focus.” Kanan flicked his forehead playfully. Ezra scowled up at him in return.

“I can do this. I won’t turn it on until you tell me I can. I am good with machines and stuff- Hera trusted me to fix the navi computer.”

“The navi computer doesn’t involve the Force. This is more involved than just slotting some pieces together.”

“I know, I know, I know!” Ezra gave him a firm look. “I feel like I need to build this myself. I listened when you took your lightsaber apart and showed me how everything works- now let me do it. I need to do this… mooostly by myself.”

Kanan sighed. “Okay. But if you need help, let me know.”

“I’ll always let you know if I need help.”

He focused, thinking back to that lesson. The pieces scattered on the floor of Kanan’s cabin, the way a few things ended up rolling around when Hera took off to idle in the sky for a while, to stay out of sight of Imperial patrols. 

What he managed to put together looked wrong. Crooked, off-balance. It barely looked like a lightsaber, and he didn’t dare turn it on.

He frowned down at the contraption on the cool cave floor in front of him. Maybe it was the dim light? Should he have brought a glow rod?

No. He just wasn’t focusing.

He closed his eyes. 

He was kneeling in a cave, the coolness of the stone seeping into his skin. Hands on his knees. Ezra breathed. 

Focusing on his breathing and being in the moment. Meditation seemed to come a little easier to him lately. Maybe it was how tired he was constantly, but he felt his mind wandering less and less.

Once he was focused fully on his breathing, he let his mind drift to the subject of building the weapon.

The way the pieces fit together. The clink of the metal. The shape of the pieces. The energy from his crystal. Every scratch and piece of wear on every piece- the place every piece had come from. The history. What it represented.

He felt his hands disassembling it, while thinking about everything about the parts besides assembling it. It was like the force was guiding him, placing its hands on his, guiding him. 

It brought him back to when he was four or five, and his mother placed her hands on his, guiding him as he drew something.

Ezra didn’t let it break his focus. He thought about every piece. Everything about them, until he had a photographic picture of every tiny bit of it in his mind, without opening his eyes.

When he finally opened them, it was dark outside. Colder. The sun had been down for a while, he figured. The sky was dark, and it was cloudy. No moon to see by. Vaguely, he could make out his weapon- half assembled, but what was together at this point looked… probably correct.

He missed Lothal’s two moons, big in the sky, always seeming so massive, so unreachable, shining plenty of light to see even in the darkest hours. He’d seen them from orbit a few times in the Ghost. They looked smaller in person, but on the surface, they seemed like they could almost engulf the sky and planet whole. 

Now when he looked out at the sky, he just saw gathering clouds. It was going to rain.

He did bring a backpack- his old one from Lothal. A few emergency blankets, a few water packs, and a couple ration bars. He had figured this would be something of an intense experience- the Jedi holocron had said that often padawans built their sabers in isolation, with little food or shelter, just them and the Force. But the Jedi order was dead- it was just him and Kanan now, and right now, just him. And he was about to be dead as the order if he didn’t figure this out.

He was hungry, but with only meager food supplies, he decided not to break into that just yet. Three emergency blankets ended up being fine for warmth- one on the ground, two wrapped around him, and he was set. He’d underestimated how the foil worked, but thought back to when Hera had handed him one after a long mission, and told him how similar material insulated the Ghost from the freezing temperatures of space. At that time, he didn’t care- he’d been on an icy planet for three weeks and he felt like he’d be perpetually cold, so he clung to whatever warmth was provided. Now, he could appreciate it, and the warm smile Hera had given him, the way she’d told him that he had done a good job.

Hopefully she felt the same way when he got back with his new weapon. He wished he knew why she was acting so… weird.

Why was she so determined to stand in his way of getting stronger, and yet helping him? Giving him that mission to Kyrian, encouraging him softly, approving him for mission after mission with only a few eyebrow raises when he went on back-to-back-to-back missions.

And now it felt like she had been pretty close to putting him in binders, chaining him to the ladder on the Ghost, and keeping him from coming out here to build it.

Maybe she was disappointed he was taking these few days off. He couldn’t do anything while he was building this. Yeah… yeah, that had to be it. He could be working helping the Rebellion, and instead here he was, here he was, curled up in a cave and doing almost nothing for a few days. It was a sacrifice he knew he had to make, otherwise he wouldn’t be able to rise to his full strength. He wouldn’t be able to protect everyone as effectively, or fight as effectively… if people had been telling him he was a good fighter these days, they’d know he was great with this weapon. But Hera was right- him not being able to help for a few days was bad.

Guilt rose in his body like bile in his throat. Maybe he wouldn’t have to spend a few days out here if… if… 

He had to do this. There were not many ways for him to atone for Ahsoka’s death, and Kanan’s loss of sight- and he hadn’t really thought he was even worthy of wielding a blade again- but the Force had clearly sent him this for a reason- but what if it had just been a complete accident, or he wasn’t meant to make a lightsaber- what if Ahsoka was out there in the Force somewhere, disapproving- he was one of the last Jedis in the galaxy and here he was getting the others killed or incapacitated- was he going to be the one to lead them all to extinction- what if he couldn’t manage to build this saber correctly and had to return to base empty handed- the look on Hera’s face, the disappointment- he had been given a gift and if he wasn’t able to help the Rebellion with it- if-

Ezra realized with a start that his breathing was sharp and fast, too fast. His lungs burned and his eyes watered as he hugged himself under the emergency blankets, trying to will himself into relaxing. The blankets were too hot, suddenly- he kicked them off, regretting it as the cold air hit him hard, not soothing his panic. He sat up and backed away from the blankets on his bottom, jumping when he hit the back of the cave hard. He couldn’t see straight, he couldn’t breathe-

What made it worse is he realized Kanan was awake, he felt it weakly pooling in through the bond, and though that bond was mostly closed, there was no way he could hide the flaring panic seeping through his own side of the crack.

He reached to the tiny corner of his mind where the bond had been relegated, hidden, and pulled hard on his mental walls. It hurt, the pain knocking him back, but he pulled and pulled until the crack was sealed.

The bond wasn’t broken. Just closed, entirely.

The knowledge that Kanan couldn’t be disturbed by his panic soothed him for a moment as he rested a hand against his stomach, both trying to control the rising nausea and calm down. Only a moment, because then he realized he couldn’t feel his master anymore.

Ever since they’d opened a bond on Lothal, no matter how open or shut it was, he could always feel Kanan, like a soft presence, like a rope tethering him to reality. The only time he couldn’t feel him was when Kanan had been captured- his master had closed the bond and told him later it was so that he couldn’t feel the torture. The panic he’d felt when he realized Kanan had closed the bond had left him nearly catatonic for a few hours. This time, it only worsened his problems, his breath quickening again.

Because not being able to feel anyone else, even as faintly as it had been for months, made him realize how alone he was right now.

He wanted to- reopen the bond. Or run. Or break it altogether before he was too tempted and reopened it. Or go back to the Ghost. He wanted to feel- something- anything- he felt so cold as he- he had never felt so helpless, backed up into a corner in a cave miles and miles from base and he was so alone and he deserved it.

Ezra absolutely deserved this, but if he didn’t get his breathing under control, he was pretty sure he was going to die out here. And while he deserved that fate- in fact it would have been much better if he was the one in Ahsoka’s place, he was definitely needed, so-

He clapped two hands over his mouth and nose, pressing down hard. It was not the best solution, because now instead of hyperventilating, he just wasn’t breathing, but he didn’t know how else to make it stop. 

Ezra held his hands there for a long moment, letting the pent-up air stay stagnant and burning against his chest. He focused on taking note of his surroundings- he had to, or he was never going to be able to calm down. 

The dip in the cave’s walls, the way the stone was formed, gentle swirls in it. The dim light outside, the blinking red lights and gentle beeps of the sensor beacon, the coral growths he could see faintly, swaying gently in the wind. The way his vision blurred when he tried to focus- no. He blinked furiously, desperately.

His lungs were screaming, shrieking, and he heard a strangled noise. He almost leapt up to investigate when he realized it was his own pitiful noise.

He had to calm down.

Ezra finally let his hands fall down, body shaking as he took big gulps of air. He focused on not hyperventilating- watched his gloved hands shake in his lap as he willed himself to breathe. 

Finally, his breathing slowed, though still shaky, each intake of air almost painful. He crawled back to his nest of emergency blankets and curled up under them, even covering his head in it. It was nice- a small, warm space. He didn’t necessarily feel safe enough to just completely let down his defenses, but it felt so nice, and now that he could breathe, he realized how bone tired he was.

Ezra was good with fighting against and with exhaustion, using it to fight harder and better, but he had no fight left in him. No energy. Just a dark, deep exhaustion that froze his body in a fetal position and finally, for the first real time in days, helped him fall asleep.

“Focus. Don’t think of what lightsaber you want to see, but what the Force wants you to see. The design will become clear in your mind.”

Kanan had one hand on Ezra’s shoulder, the other held out, demonstrating drawing out into the force.

Ezra looked up at him, the way his eyes were closed, expression relaxed, focused. He seemed so… in his element.

“Is this how you built your lightsaber?” Ezra asked slowly, reaching out to touch the Force just like he was. He felt like wisps of a possible design were tugging at his brain, but not enough to form a full saber.

“Mmm… nooot exactly. I found my crystal in the Gathering on the planet Illum, like other younglings, and I was brought aboard the ship they used to let younglings make their sabers, but I didn’t end up building it there. I took my parts, went back to the Jedi temple on Coruscant, and spent a couple days trying to figure it out, to no avail- so Master Nu took me to a cave on a nearby planet, threw me in, and didn’t come back until I contacted her saying I’d built my saber.”

“Woah… isn’t that a little harsh? I mean, you were just a kid.”

“Yeah, but it worked. I got my saber built, and it’s worked out pretty good for me so far, hasn’t it?”

“Sure, but it’s… you were a child.”

Kanan signed, resting more weight on Ezra’s shoulder. Like he was letting Ezra shoulder some of the pain from his past- a task he was happy to take on, if it would make him feel a little better. Sometimes he worried about him.

“I… the Jedi order was not without flaw. In its methods… in the way we were meant to be peacekeepers, but became soldiers for the Republic. I guess the way I built my lightsaber was not without flaw in of itself.”

“Is that why it fell?”

“Part of it, I’m sure- the general amount of approval people had for the Jedi plummeted during the war. I don’t know why the clones turned on my master, who they’d fought side by side with for years, but-” Ezra heard the way Kanan’s voice sounded choked. He placed a hand over his master’s on his shoulder. They really hadn’t known each other all that long, just several months- and still Ezra felt a certain… kinship with Kanan. They both knew what it was like to be on their own, at least.

“Anyway. We’re getting off track,” Kanan sighed. “Focus into the force. Feel the energy of the crystal… let it guide you.”

When he finally saw the image appear in his mind, Ezra held on a moment longer to study it, then broke away. 

“I know what I have to do,” he said, determined. Kanan took his hand off his shoulder, and crossed his arms, smiling a bit. Proudly.

“You still wanna make it on your own?” he asked slowly.

Ezra nodded. “I got this.”

By the time Ezra woke up, he figured he must have been really tired, because by the look of the sky, it was well into the afternoon. He was sore from sleeping on the cave floor, but… refreshed. More human than he had felt in months.

Gee, no wonder people were supposed to sleep. 

It felt easier to focus after he drank a bit of water and downed a pack of jerky. He was still hungry, he realized, but so much better rested than he had been in a long time. Since before Malachor, at least. He almost felt guilty for sleeping, resting, when there was work to be done, but brushed the thought away- he could be guilty for a lot of things, and rightfully so, but at some point, it just got ridiculous.

He meditated for a while, relishing in the feeling of the Force around him. Calming, soothing, not letting him get carried away in panic like he had last night. He barely even remembered it, he’d been so lightheaded and dizzy and breathing so fast it was just a blur of sound and images. All except for the feeling of closing off the bond- that pain still beat against his brain dully, like phantom pains from a missing limb.

Finally, he got back to his lightsaber.

Rather than picture what he wanted, he felt out in the Force for what it wanted, which was an extension of what Ezra wanted, deep down, and also exactly what he needed- which was confusing, the Force was so confusing, but he just had to feel it, and feel the design.

That was his problem the other day. He had been trying to make what he wanted, at least at the top of his mind. He had to look out into the Force, and also within- and he wasn’t sure how he did it when he didn’t even really understand it at all.

But it worked. Just like it had worked the first time. He saw it in his mind as the pieces floated at eye level, saw the way every tube and piece fit together, the gate he placed his new crystal in telekinetically. It took hours, but when he opened his eyes, he saw it floating in front of him and knew it to be his.

It was different from his first. More traditional, at least he thought so from studying the holocron. More like Kanan’s. Maybe the lack of a blaster was the Force’s way of telling him that he was moving more towards being a true Jedi, more reliant on his sword and the Force.

Or it was the Force’s way of telling him to get a blaster that could actually kill someone. 

He probably needed to- he’d been borrowing other people’s blasters for so long now that his original saber was gone, he needed one to call his own. At the very least… now he had a new sword. A new way to help. A new way to make himself useful.

Finally, he stood in the center of the cave, where the ceiling was high enough, checked the inner workings of the lightsaber to make sure nothing was backwards, and then ignited the blade.

The satisfying woosh it made as it ignited was like the sweetest music- the steady, strong green glow was intense, tantalizing- and so him. He liked his blue saber, but this one felt so personal. It felt like it belonged. 

He tested it out cautiously, swiping at nothing, relishing in the sound it made as it cut the air. Nothing was exploding, it felt good in his grip, it felt so good to have a saber again, to feel the comforting pulse of it in his hands.

He swiped a few more times, and tested cutting a hole in the cave. It slid through easily, leaving a blade-sized cylindrical hole in the cave, leading to nothing but more stone deeper within.

For the first time since Malachor, he smiled, truly smiled.