1 | Star Wars Rebels: Fallen Hope: My Only Jedi

Part 5

S2

Imperial base, Wayland, 1302, 3274 LY

     ''We'd better split up,'' Sabine suggested, facing Ezra with a serious expression. ''We'd find the supplies easier.'' Hera had sent the two on a supply mission with Zeb and Kanan for backup in the Phantom. Just in case things went wrong. Just in case things went as bad as they normally do. 

     Seeing the sense in the Mandalorian's words, the kid nodded. Sabine smiled, turning down one corridor. Ezra went down the other. The supplies she was to look for was proton bombs and torpedoes as well as medical supplies. She realized that by splitting up, things could go wrong. And if things did go wrong, they were on their own. 

     Sabine was looking around her, and not forward like she probably should have been. Especially when rounding corners. Looking in front of her, she let out a startled gasp as she ran into a squadron of bucketheads. She could pop a couple down, but she'd be a goner before Ezra could reach her. 

     The commander growled, ''Freeze, rebel scum.'' Sabine had no choice. She stopped, raising her hands up in surrender. All she could do was hope Ezra sensed her rising panic. The trooper pressed at his helmet near his ear. The other troops didn't lower their weapons. Eventually, the stormtrooper commander growled, ''Incapacitate the rebel. The Inquisitor wants to talk to her.''

     ''The Inquisitor?'' Sabine choked out incredulously. ''What-?'' She was cut off by an electrical jolt passing through her body. Her body tensed, then went limp. She was unconscious before she hit the ground.

     A boy froze in his mild-paced walk. Something was off. Something was wrong. He felt panic, the feeling growing stronger and stronger. Sabine. She was in trouble. He had to go help.

     Turning around, Ezra abandoned his furtive search for the supplies, sprinting towards the direction Sabine took. He kept his eyes forward, but slowed down to recon when he heard voices. ''Incapacitate the rebel,'' a deep voice growled. ''The Inquisitor wants to talk to her.''

     Her. Sabine. Ezra knew it, he had a feeling. The Inquisitor? The Inquisitor was dead! Sabine asked, confused, ''The Inquisitor?'' She echoed his thoughts. ''What-?'' She was cut off by her own cry and a thump. Incapacitate. Something was definitely wrong, and something just happened to Sabine.

     Looking past the bulkhead, Ezra kept his gasp inaudible. Sabine lied crumpled and unconscious on the pavement. The troopers shot her with a stun bolt. Already one was bending down to grab her feet. Grabbing his lightsaber, he turned the corner and into the sight of the bucketheads, but he had already shot two down before they realized his position. 

     Quickly disposing of the remainder of the squadron, he rushed over to Sabine, picking her up by her armpits. She was surprisingly heavy for her size, and Ezra had a hard time lifting her up. He couldn't carry her bridal-style (even if he wanted to), and he couldn't drag her. Finally deciding, he maneuvered her to his back and slung her arms over her shoulder. Then he hoisted her up, finally holding her in a piggyback position.

     There wasn't much time. Ezra had to hurry if he wanted to get to the Phantom before other patrols found him. Going at a brisk walk because he couldn't run with the extra weight, he backtracked towards the bay. He was almost there when a squad found him. Grabbing his lightsaber, he was prepared to fight his way through to the Phantom.

     As his lightsaber blazed to life, the bucketheads began to pour blasterbolts at Ezra. The boy had a difficult time deflecting the bolts without dropping Sabine. Soon, he extinguished his lightsaber's blade, trying to dodge the blasterbolts. One skimmed so close to his right side between his ribcage and hip that he felt the heat from it. 

     Ezra did pretty good with dodging the bolts along with the extra weight, but he was too slow. A white-hot streak of light blazed its way to his heart. He moved to the left, but not quick enough. The blast smacked him in the right side of the chest, knocking the air out of him, sizzling his skin. Crying out with pain, he then tried to breathe, but his breath was full of fire. As he collapsed, he dropped the unconscious Sabine, blood already discoloring his shirt. Consciousness ebbed away in the sight of brown boots.

     An adult human male watched his Padawan carry Sabine, a squadron closing in on them. He had to help. Running towards them, he watched, helpless, as Ezra was shot in the right side of his chest. The right side. He could live for a minute or two. Enough for Kanan Jarrus to deal with the bucketheads.

     Bucketheads. That's what they were. They had no idea that Kanan was coming. Igniting his lightsaber, he let reason slip away. Kanan should have felt Ezra's pain, but he was too furious to do so. The troopers had no chance. They didn't know what was coming, what to expect.

     Kanan's fury erupted into a feral scream as he leaped into the air, executing a barrel roll, slashing the nearest stormtrooper. From there, he moved gracefully into a diagonal downwards slash. Next he turned to the right, stabbing his blazing blue blade into the trooper. None of them would live. He'd kill them all.