Star Wars Rebels: When Hope Is Lost

Chapter 14: Living Hell-Part 2

The boy was weak. Trained, but weak. And vulnerable. He let his emotions guide him, not always the Force itself. But growing up the way he did.... It wasn't hard to see how he had become a petty little rebel, running around the streets of Lothal like a lost Loth-cat. Dume had taken pitiful care of the boy. His efforts to raise him had obviously been futile, though done as best as possible.

So 'Kanan Jarrus' had had a son. Dev Dume. Though Dev had potential, he did not have as much as the Padawan. Ezra Bridger was drawn to the dark side.... This was obvious. He felt it's pull, yet struggled to avoid it. But you could not evade the Force.

You could not evade destiny.

He could deal with Bridger later. For now, he would return to the son of a Jedi and bring him to Bridger. Perhaps he would be useful in turning the young Padawan to his side. And if not.... He could become a lackey. But he was always expendable. Though he wanted both Jedi apprentices as his slaves, he knew he might not be able to get them both to cooperate. And if it came down to Ezra or Dev, he would take Bridger. He was more valuable than most of his Inquisitors put together.

Darth Vader pulled out his comlink. "Second Brother, interrogate the Padawan. Use whatever means necessary. I want to know where his loyalties lie, and how much the boy is drawn to the dark side."

"Yes my Lord," came the crisp reply.

Under his mask, the Dark Lord smile chillingly.

It was time for a little family reunion.

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Ezra moaned and slowly opened his eyes. As his eyes slowly adjusted to the dim light, he sat up on a hard metal bench, gently rubbing an aching head. It throbbed, and he could practically hear the thumping of the throbbing. That was not a good sign. Likely a concussion.

Upon fingering his head, he felt something dry and caked in his hair and scalp. He lightly dug his fingernails at it and removed them to find caked, crimson blood on his fingertips. He flicked it off and picked at the dried, crumbling bodily fluid in his head. He felt around in his thick hair, tracing the outline of the caked blood, and discovered it was a large gash covering about a third of his head. And the layer of dried blood was thick. Too thick to be good.

"You're awake," said a voice. Ezra finally noticed the figure standing in front of the shut doorway to what he already knew was an Imperial cell. It was the figure who had stood in front of his new friends' limp bodies, mocking him. He—from the voice Ezra knew it was a he—still wore all black and a hood.

He growled, not sure of anything other than the fact that this man was not his friend.

"Please, Ezra," the figure held up his gloved hands as if to calm the boy down. "It's alright. You're safe."

"I know you," Ezra growled. "I know you, don't I? Who are you?"

"Ezra, I know it's been a while. I understand that. And I know you're probably going to feel betrayed, but you have to let me explain."

The figure hesitantly lifted his hands and removed the hood, and Ezra stared into a face he has not seen since he was seven years old. Eight years ago.

"D... Dad?"

(To clarify, this story takes place before Legacy, starting around Always Two There Are and continuing from there in the story plot. -LRUF)

"Son," Ephraim Bridger smiled. Eyes that were once the same shade of blue as Ezra's were now a gold colour. But Ezra caught sight of a flash of blue as he stared into the eyes of a man he had loved.

"Why?" Was all Ezra could ask. He had never felt so helpless. But though this was not his first betrayal, it still stung, as a war wound should. "Why did you turn? I didn't even know you were Force-sensitive."

"It's a long story, Ezra," his father sighed. Then he pulled out a roll of bandages from under his cloak. "But if you're willing to listen...."

Don't! Warning! He's on the dark side! He's with the Empire! Don't! Would Kanan want you to? That last sentence his mind conjured up sealed the deal. He would listen. Kanan always told me what to do. Do this, train that, learn this pointless skill of connecting with a Loth-cat. It's time I started making decisions for myself.

Ezra nodded and standing up, took the bandages from his father's hand.

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Dev slowly raised his head as the cell door opened again. He must have looked pitiful. And he was.

Don't think like that. Stay strong.

Darth Vader walked over to him and stood over him for a moment. The two foes faced each other, one broken and on the ground, one powerful and above all others. A moment later, Vader reached down and gently picked up a limp Dev. Dev hardly felt any pain from his wounds as the Sith carried him out of the cell.

He couldn't wrap his blurry mind around the fact that Vader was actually being.... Almost nice. He knew there was a reason. But right now, he couldn't function well enough to resist.

"You're safe," Vader's silky voice said, and Dev didn't even realize that he was being manipulated by the Force. His eyes were closing and he felt a sense of calm. Peace.... What was I worrying about? I'm fine. I'm safe. Just like he said. 

Dev's head flopped over onto Vader's arm and his breathing became deep as the boy slipped away into Force-provoked unconsciousness. Forced unconsciousness.