Ezra's Duel with Danger

by Lucasfilm Press

  The troopers went to apprehend them, but the Inquisitor hung back, alarmed. “Wait. I sense—”

  The troopers’ glowlamps swept high. Perched above and behind the rebels were snarling, purple-skinned creatures with razorback fins and fangs like sharpened stalactites.

  Eyes still closed, the Jedi adult and his boy apprentice both lifted their arms and indicated the Imperials.

  The creatures roared and launched over the rebels, gliding on skin flaps that connected their limbs to their torsos. The stormtroopers’ blaster fire was too late—the creatures had already sunk their teeth through their armored uniforms.

  The Inquisitor, however, stood firm, using the Force to hurl away every creature that came at him. He ignited his lightsaber and looked at the Jedi. “This was your plan? To lure us here and allow these creatures to do your work for you?”

  The Jedi opened his eyes and rose to face the Inquisitor. “How do you think it’s going?” He activated his blue blade.

  One of the biggest beasts leapt at the Inquisitor. A wave of his hand was all that was required to send the creature flying backward. “Pathetically.”

  “Guess if you want something done right...” the Jedi said, and attacked.

  The Inquisitor parried the Jedi’s swing, then went on the offensive himself. As in their last duel, the Jedi retreated. Try as he might, lunging and thrusting, he was no match for the Inquisitor’s skill.

  The Inquisitor sensed that the Jedi was trying to stall while his Padawan directed the creatures against the stormtroopers. Their plan would not work. The Inquisitor deflected another pitiful thrust, then vented his anger into the Force, tossing the human back into his ship. The impact echoed throughout the hangar and the Jedi dropped his lightsaber. Its blade died as its wielder crumpled to the ground.

  “Kanan!” The boy ran toward his master.

  The Inquisitor grinned. Kanan. So that was the Jedi’s name. “Your meager training is nothing in the face of true power,” he said to the boy, stepping toward the fallen Jedi.

  The Jedi’s lightsaber slid across the ground and flew into the boy’s hand. The boy ignited the blade and held it high above his master. “You’re not going near him.”

  The Inquisitor stared at the pathetic child. It was evident he had the talent and could be twisted into a useful tool. But he had so much to learn.

  With a flick of his fingers, the Inquisitor yanked the lightsaber out of the boy’s grip and summoned it to his free hand. “I believe it’s time to end both Jedi and Padawan, for good.”

  Hera’s secret contact, Fulcrum, arranged for the Ghost to dock with an Alderaanian blockade runner in deep space. To protect Fulcrum’s identity, only Hera was allowed to transfer Tseebo to the ship.

  As she led the Rodian toward the airlock, she noticed he moved like an ordinary being and had overcome his habit of staring blankly. But he also appeared troubled.

  “Will Tseebo see Ezra Bridger again?” he asked.

  “I hope so,” Hera said. “Anything you’d like me to tell him?”

  Tseebo looked away, not in his old distracted manner, but as if he were ashamed. “Tseebo failed Bridgers. Did not watch over their son. But Tseebo try to make it right by accessing Imperial files on Ezra Bridger’s parents. Tseebo knows Bridgers’ fate.”

  Hera stopped. What Tseebo knew might give Ezra closure to his troubles. She put her hand on Tseebo’s shoulder. “Tell me, Tseebo. Tell me and I’ll tell Ezra.”

  Tseebo nodded and told her.

  Ezra pressed his heels into the floor when the Inquisitor tried to push him back with the Force. But like a Loth-rat in a grass storm, he couldn’t hold. He tumbled backward, across the hangar, regaining his balance just in time to stop from plunging down a chasm-sized blast hole.

  The Inquisitor advanced, wielding both blades. “Your devotion to your master is admirable, but it will not save you. Nothing can.”

  Ezra glanced at Kanan, who lay unmoving in a heap near the Phantom. Kanan had promised that if Ezra directed the fyrnocks to attack, he would take care of the Inquisitor. Yet once again, Kanan had lost his duel, leaving Ezra to deal with this villain all by himself.

  “Good,” the Inquisitor said with a smile. “Unleash your anger. I will teach you what your master couldn’t.”

  “You don’t have anything to teach me,” Ezra snapped, though he began to question Kanan’s recent lessons. Why had Kanan wasted time teaching him how to connect with nature, when what he really needed to learn was how to fight with the Force?

  “The darkness is too strong for you, orphan. It is swallowing you up, even now,” the Inquisitor said.

  “No.” Ezra wanted to punch the Inquisitor in the gut. Everything he said was a lie.

  “Your master will die.”

  “No!” Ezra repeated. The urge to do violence to the Inquisitor grew even stronger.

  The Inquisitor refused to shut up. “Your friends will die. And everything you’ve hoped for will be lost.”

  Ezra couldn’t listen any longer. He hated the Inquisitor. He hated him so much he wanted to make him feel pain, the same sadness and despair Ezra had felt over the years. He could feel those emotions churning inside of him, even behind him, becoming something large. Something strong. Something that the Inquisitor couldn’t block. A force of pure rage.

  A fyrnock.

  Rising from the blast hole in the hangar floor, the creature cast a huge shadow over Ezra. Surprise flashed in the Inquisitor’s eyes. This was no ordinary fyrnock. This was the mother of the fyrnocks. Ezra had connected with her to do his bidding.

  “Ezra...no!” he heard his master say. It must have been another of the Inquisitor’s tricks. Kanan Jarrus was dead. And now it was time for the Inquisitor to die.

  Ezra pointed at the enemy he hated and the shadow whipped over him like a cold current. The Inquisitor was knocked backward, losing hold of Kanan’s lightsaber.

  Ezra didn’t see what happened next. He collapsed from exhaustion.

  Kanan Jarrus wasn’t dead, but his body felt as if he could’ve died. He struggled to his feet, aching from the Inquisitor’s attack. Chaos ruled the hangar around him. The vicious fyrnocks were wreaking havoc with the stormtroopers while their mother was giving the Inquisitor the fight of his life.

  Kanan stumbled over to Ezra. The boy was shivering. “Kanan...what happened? I feel so cold.”

  Kanan held Ezra tightly for a moment, channeling some of his own warmth into the boy. “It’s okay. We’re leaving.”

  He grabbed his lightsaber and helped Ezra up and toward the Phantom. The Imperials were too busy with the fyrnocks to prevent them from boarding.

  Kanan put Ezra in the rear, then took the pilot’s chair. He neglected the warm-up procedures and just punched the engines into overdrive, triggering the guns at the same time.

  Stormtroopers dove every which way to avoid being hit as the Phantom roared out of the hangar. Glancing down, Kanan glimpsed the Inquisitor exiting as well. The carcass of the mother fyrnock steamed behind him, but he did not look happy. Kanan had a feeling that his Emperor would not be happy, either.

  Zooming over the Inquisitor’s shuttle, Kanan strafed it with lasers, hitting some critical systems and stalling any possible pursuit. He then looped the Phantom around the asteroid to gain as much distance as he could from the Star Destroyers without eating up all the fuel reserves. When they were far enough away, he cut the engines to minimal velocity so the Phantom would be virtually undetectable until its mother ship, the Ghost, arrived.

  “Something doesn’t feel right,” Ezra said.

  Kanan looked back. The boy’s arms clung to his body, as if to hold himself together.

  “When you open yourself to the Force,” Kanan said, “if your will isn’t strong enough, you are vulnerable to the dark side. Your good intentions can be twisted into something else if you feel fear or anger.”

  “I was trying to protect you.”

  “I know,” Kanan said. “But your anger at the Inquis
itor and your fear that I would die took you to the edge of the dark side. Your emotions caused the giant creature to attack.”

  Ezra seemed puzzled. “I don’t remember it.”

  Kanan sighed. “That’s for the best.” He’d known teaching was difficult—but he hadn’t realized how difficult. “It’s my fault. I didn’t teach you what you needed to know. I’m sorry.”

  They spoke no more as they waited for the Ghost.

  Ezra climbed down the ladder into the Ghost. He felt empty, weary, as if he hadn’t slept for weeks, though technically, an entire standard day hadn’t passed. It was still Empire Day. And it wasn’t over yet.

  The crew gave Ezra and Kanan a warm greeting in the common room. But Ezra didn’t feel like celebrating. He walked out before Hera could talk to him.

  “Ezra needs a little time to himself right now,” Kanan explained.

  Ezra climbed into the nose turret and plopped down into the gunnery seat. This was where he’d had his first view of hyperspace. It hadn’t been that long ago, yet it felt like ages. So much had changed in that short time. His world, his friends, him.

  “Rough couple of days?” Sabine asked, entering the turret.

  “Yeah. It’s been...weird.”

  “Then I have just what you need.” Sabine took out a holodisk from her pouch. Dirty and scratched, it was the same holodisk that Ezra had ejected from his parents’ secret console.

  “It was pretty degraded. But I cleaned it up and found something.” She inserted the disk into the gunner’s station and keyed the built-in projector. A two-dimensional hologram of a much younger Ezra and his parents shimmered in the air.

  “Happy birthday, Ezra Bridger,” Sabine said.

  Ezra stared at the parents he loved. His weariness gave way to a rush of joy. Soon he shared the same smile as his seven-year-old self.

  This Empire Day would be a day long remembered.

  Kanan knocked on the door to Zeb and Ezra’s cabin, but the boy wasn’t there, again. He’d already rescheduled this training session twice because Ezra had forgotten about it. But today’s absence wasn’t a slip of the mind. The kid wasn’t taking his Jedi lessons seriously.

  Kanan went into his cabin and removed the Holocron from his bunk’s hidden drawer. The frustration he felt would be best channeled elsewhere. He sat cross-legged on the floor and began to meditate.

  The more he relaxed, the less he felt of himself. In his mind’s eye, he could see the Holocron hovering before him. Images appeared to him, of people and places he knew and didn’t know. He heard voices, echoes of Jedi Masters of yore dispensing bits of wisdom.

  To understand the Force, you must teach the Force....

  Always be firm, but fair....

  Never smile for your Padawan until they pass the trials, else an unruly apprentice you will have....

  A creak in the corridor outside alerted him that someone was approaching. Kanan withdrew from the Force and lowered the Holocron to the ground.

  The door opened. “Sorry I’m late. Was with Sabine.” Ezra was breathing heavily, as if he had been running.

  Kanan sighed, opening his eyes. “Ezra, when we were on that asteroid, you made a dangerous connection through the Force. I have to know if you are ready.”

  “I am ready,” Ezra insisted, then caught himself. “Ready for what?”

  “For a test, a real challenge. One that could determine if you are meant to be a Jedi,” Kanan said, “or not.”

  “But you said I was a Jedi. Why else would you be training me?”

  Kanan took the Holocron and rose. “I never said you were a Jedi. I said you have the potential to become one. But you lack discipline, focus.”

  “C’mon,” Ezra retorted, “you know how I grew up. I’m not used to all these rules.”

  Kanan shook his head. “You’re lucky I’m not my master. She’d never let you get away with—”

  “All the things you tried to get away with?” Ezra said.

  Kanan looked at the door. “You want a second chance or not? Go prep the Phantom.”

  “As you say, Master,” Ezra said. For once, there was no sarcasm in the boy’s voice.

  Kanan bowed his head after Ezra left. Was he giving this kid too many chances because of his own failures as a teacher? What if Ezra succumbed to the dark side because of something he didn’t teach?

  “You have to do this, Kanan.”

  He looked up to see Hera standing in the doorway. “After what happened on the asteroid, you have to help him,” she said.

  “I hope I can,” Kanan said.

  “I know you can.” She took his hand. Though she couldn’t lend any support through the Force, she nonetheless cheered him in ways the Force never could.

  A test. A real Jedi test. The thought excited Ezra. At last Kanan was going to teach him something worthwhile, instead of communing with Loth-cats or blocking rocks.

  Nevertheless, his master refused to say where the two of them were flying. Kanan set the Phantom to autopilot, then headed to the back and sat down across from Ezra. Ezra knew he was in for a long lecture.

  “When I was your age,” Kanan began, “there were around ten thousand Jedi Knights defending the galaxy. We had small outposts, temples, spread throughout the stars.”

  Ezra imagined what those last days of the Republic had been like. Would his life have been different? Would he have been schooled in one of those temples? What had happened to them?

  “The Empire sought out these temples and destroyed many of them—but not all,” Kanan said. “I want you to meditate, let the Force guide you to one of them.”

  Ezra stared at his master. How could he find a lost Jedi temple when he couldn’t even find yesterday’s dirty socks?

  “Trust yourself,” Kanan said. “Trust the Force.”

  Ezra nodded and closed his eyes. He would try, at least—though he knew Kanan’s proverb: Do. Or do not. There is no try.

  The problem was he didn’t know what he was looking for. A pyramid? A cathedral? A monastery atop a cliff? And where? What solar system? How could they find a Jedi temple when the Phantom didn’t even have a hyperdrive?

  “Did you take this test at my age?” Ezra asked.

  “Everything was different back then. All that remains now is the Force.”

  The Force—that Ezra could feel. He felt it in the birds around their ship. He felt it in the blades of grass growing below. He even felt it in the occasional mound that interrupted the plains. One large stone stood out, like a strange artifact from another age. Stranger still was when the Force took Ezra’s mind inside, as if solid rock was nothing. He found himself in a chamber that narrowed into a tunnel, where at its end blazed a bright, bright star.

  Ezra opened his eyes. There was no need for a hyperdrive. The Jedi temple was right there, on Lothal.

  He didn’t know the coordinates, but his sense of it was so strong he directed Kanan to fly there. They landed in the middle of the plains, near a huge rock that resembled the one in Ezra’s vision.

  Kanan flipped a switch. “Autopilot disengaged.”

  Ezra looked at Kanan. If the autopilot was on the entire time, it meant—

  “You already knew of this place,” he said, annoyed he’d done all that work for nothing.

  Kanan landed the Phantom. “I checked the Holocron back in my cabin. It holds extensive star maps, but I was as surprised as you that there was a temple here.”

  They disembarked from the ship and approached the stone. Since Ezra had found the temple, Kanan said it was up to him to figure out a way inside.

  “Seriously, can’t you give me a hint?” Ezra asked.

  “Don’t look. Listen. Use the Force to hear the stone and its story.”

  Ezra walked around the stone. It was solid, without anything resembling an entrance. When he closed his eyes and he lifted his hand, however, he began to feel the world around the stone. The temple was not in the rock, but under it.

  “It wants to admit me,” Ezra said. �
�Us. Master and Padawan. Together.”

  “Then together it shall be,” Kanan said.

  Energy surged through Ezra’s raised arm, pouring out toward the stone. He tensed under an immense strain, as if he was a small muscle working in tandem with a stronger one. The ground quaked and there was a tremendous cracking.

  Ezra opened his eyes. “Whoa.”

  The huge stone had been corkscrewed partially out of the ground, revealing a hollow cavity buried beneath. He figured that must be the entrance to the Jedi temple.

  “Don’t lose focus. We don’t want this thing crashing down on us,” Kanan said, lowering his arm.

  Ezra descended into the hollow, glancing over his shoulder in astonishment. The stone must have weighed as much as a speeder bus, yet he had rooted it from the ground without ever touching it.

  This kind of Jedi lesson made Ezra want to learn more.

  Jedi temples reflected the personality of their architect, Kanan knew. The Jedi who had constructed this place must have had a fondness for the mysterious, for the large chamber Kanan and Ezra had entered led only into a tunnel of darkness. The chamber got darker still when the stone fell over the entrance, sealing them inside.

  Kanan turned on a glowrod. “You lost focus.”

  “Dead guys are distracting,” Ezra said.

  The glowrod revealed what Ezra was referring to. Bones of two former visitors lay strewn across the floor.

  Kanan hoped the kid wouldn’t be distracted for the next part of the test, which would be much more challenging. “In here, you’ll have to face your worst fears and overcome them. And there’s no guarantee of success.”

  “I have plenty of faith,” Ezra said with a grin. “Faith you’ll keep me on track.”

  “I’m not going with you,” Kanan said.

  Ezra’s grin became a grimace. “Where are you going to be?”

  “With them.” Kanan indicated the skeletons. “Masters whose Padawans never returned.”

  Ezra glanced at the bones, then at the darkness in the tunnel beyond. With a wary step, he walked toward it. “What exactly am I looking for?”