Ezra and Thrawn

2

The ship hummed as it lowered towards the earth, the sound growing louder and louder. It was so... so familiar, almost like a lullaby.

It was the Ghost.

Ezra couldn't breathe, great, heavy gasps caught somewhere in his chest. He could just watch the beautiful, grey ship lower itself onto the beach, backlit by the dying sunlight. Hera. Zeb. Sabine. Kanan...

No.

Not Kanan.

But the others. His family. They were coming to save him.

The ship touched down on the beach, but it didn't seem to stop. It kept lowering, sand lifting up around its landing gears. The crunch of stone in mechanics grew louder as it sank further. Ezra could see Hera's face, near the cockpit of the Ghost, but she couldn't see him. She was just flying... sinking into the heart of the island.

"No!"

"Bridger!"Thrawn's sharp voice cut through his dream, startling him to wakefulness. Ezra jolted upright, heavy gasps panging in his chest.

"What?" He growled at the blue man, who gave him a disapproving, mild look.

"You were talking in your sleep," Thrawn glowered. "And there's-"

"A ship!" Ezra rolled to his feet. He could hear it; the steady hum of the engines, modern and new. The crunch of the landing gears on earth. "They're-"

"It is the Empire." Thrawn held out a hand to stop him from running off. "Operation Azda. Expansion of our lines to uninhabited worlds. We did not fly so far as I had calculated."

Thrawn's eyes were cold despite their rusty color, burning into Ezra. The Empire.

They weren't saved at all.

Ezra stepped back from Thrawn's hand, feeling his own face harden. The jungle, or capture by the Empire?

Was he really strong enough to survive, alone, in the jungle? He and Thrawn together had barely managed to care for one another between the bouts of strange illness and recurring injuries. Now he was sick, feeling the illness in his chest and spreading, and he was afraid he wouldn't be strong enough to stay alive until Sabine came.

But leaving? Sabine... she wouldn't be able to track him there. But maybe he could escape, find her again.

"Bridger-"

Ezra stepped back. "Admiral." He held a little grudging respect for the Admiral. This would be goodbye--or hello to their fight being renewed.

"You would not survive in the jungle on your own," Thrawn stated as though it was an obvious fact. "You are ill."

"You really think I would surrender that easily?" Ezra sneered. Thrawn frowned.

"I know you better than that, Bridger. But I believed you wiser, as well. Come now. The best care, the best food. A hundred times better than this place."

For some reason... somehow... Ezra felt as though he should go with him. He really didn't want to stay in the jungle alone, and even if he fled, he'd probably be captured. Unless Thrawn decided he wasn't worth it, decided to leave him to die.

Ezra tightened his lips, forcing a sigh through them. He was sick. Thrawn was...

Thrawn was right.

"Fine," Ezra said softly. "I'll come."

Thrawn smiled. "Wise decision, Bridger."

Ezra couldn't help but feel foreboding, but he wouldn't--couldn't--stay out here alone any longer.

The imperials that came out of the ship stopped short at the sight of them. They were simple stormtroopers--bucketheads, as Sabine would call them--but the tatters of Thrawn's suit was recognizable.

Thrawn put on a good show, one Ezra could almost admire. He threw his shoulders back and strode forward, speaking in a cold and calculating voice. "Stormtroopers! I am Grand Admiral Thrawn, stranded here for coming up on two years now. I will speak to your captain."

No one argued--or spoke--until Thrawn barked for one of them to start moving. The stormtrooper in question snapped to attention. "Yessir! This way, sir!"

Thrawn glanced at Ezra before following the stormtrooper. "Come with me, rebel. And do not try anything."

Ezra nodded. Why Thrawn didn't already have him in cuffs, he didn't know, but he followed anyway. The imperial ship was the same layout that he knew well, a traditional Star Destroyer shuttle, large enough to carry many troops and many weapons. It meant the Star Destroyer would be somewhere above, waiting for them. For him.

The captain of the shuttle was sitting in the cockpit, jumping in surprise as the stormtrooper stumbled in, babbling about the Grand Admiral and being stranded. Thrawn cut him off with a wave of his hand.

"I am Grand Admiral Thrawn. I will speak to your captain."

"Sir, I-" The pilot of the shuttle didn't seem as easy to convince as the stormtrooper, but Thrawn rattled off some passcodes and imperial jargon that seemed to convince him.

Thrawn glanced at Ezra again. "A pleasure hunting you, Bridger."

Ezra ended up in cuffs, and he wasn't surprised. He hadn't tried to escape, either, not trusting his memory to take him to the escape pods in time, or his training to keep him from the stormtroopers. He'd lost his lightsaber long ago, back when the purgils jumped to hyperspace, so now he was relying fully on the force.

He didn't even know if he had that to back him.

"Put him near the other," Thrawn snapped, turning aside with a few of the high-ranking imperial officers on the ship. His red gaze caught Ezra's for a second.

Ezra glared at him.

Thrawn smiled.

The stormtroopers dragged Ezra away, throwing him into a cell. The door hissed shut behind them, and he scrambled to his feet, jerking one of the hands still caught in his cuff. The electric buzz that raced through him less than a second made him growl.

He hurt all over, the aches and chills crawling through his body a sure sign that he was sick. He glowered at the hard metal ceiling. Bars lined the top of it, letting in a little fresh air.

And a few sounds.

He closed his eyes, focusing on the shifting of another prisoner. To his left, in the cell beside him.

"Hello?" He called. "Are you a prisoner, also?"

There was an increase in the harsh breathing as an answer. Ezra could sense fear in the other prisoner, thick and heavy. "I'm not going to hurt you. Have you heard of Operation Azda?" Thrawn had implied that the Empire was focused on enlarging its borders... which meant that the rebellion had either been crushed or was still fighting beneath the imperials.

No answer came from the next cell over. Then: "No."

It was a low voice, a male voice, sounding hoarse. Ezra sighed.

"I see. We'll get out of here, don't worry."

He'd fallen back into the rebellion so quickly, brave words with a brave front. But really, all he wanted to do now was sleep.

"No. We won't."

"Trust me," Ezra forced. "There's always hope, as long as we're alive."

Aaand we have the second part up! Thanks for reading! 

Any guesses on who the other prisoner is? Hint: It's someone well known. 

If you enjoyed reading, it would make me so happy to hear from you or get a vote! Stay tuned for the next part, coming soon!