Capture

Chapter Sixteen

Back on the Ghost, Ezra ignored the others and went directly to his shared cabin. Once there, he sat down on the bottom bunk, mind still whirling with questions. Hera said she loved him. Kanan spent eight-hundred credits on him.

It had been so long since he'd felt like someone cared for him, so long since he'd felt like he belonged. Could he have that again, here?

Ezra sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. He was tired, and his head wouldn't stop spinning. The droid had said he'd never get his memory back. Kanan seemed to think the memory loss was his fault. He was back on Lothal.

The door suddenly swished open, and Ezra looked up, surprised. Hera stood there, a kind look on her face. "Mind if I come in?"

Ezra shrugged and moved over on the bunk. "Guess not."

Hera smiled and sat down. She looked over at him with a sad expression. "The droid says you may never get your memory back, Ezra. I'm so sorry."

Ezra nodded, looking straight ahead at the door. "I figured."

Hera was silent a moment, and Ezra turned to look at her. A tear shone on her cheek. "Hera?"

She quickly brushed the tear away and smiled slightly, but she didn't try to hide that she'd started to cry. "Sorry, I just...it's hard for us too, you know?"

Ezra hadn't really thought about that, and immediately felt bad. All his focus had been on himself, and he'd neglected to remember the others who were affected. "Hera...how did it happen?"

The Twi'lek pilot gave a sad smile. "You might want to talk to Kanan instead. I wasn't there."

Ezra studied her. Hera was so strong, so fearless. Nothing about her seemed fake, and she made him feel safe and secure. "I trust you."

Hera smiled slightly, and began. "You, Kanan, Zeb and Sabine were on a mission. There was this old Jedi master named Luminara Unduli who was reportedly still alive and in Imperial prison, and you guys were going in to get her out of there.

"But the mission went wrong. She was already dead, and it was a trap. An inquisitor--that's a Dark Side user sent out by Lord Vader to track down Jedi--was waiting for you guys, and engaged Kanan in battle."

She paused then and turned towards Ezra, something pleading in her eyes. "You must understand. Kanan never finished his Jedi training. He didn't stand a chance against the Imperial operative.

"The Inquisitor grabbed you somehow, and he stabbed you. Kanan thought you were dead. He had no choice but to leave you. Please believe me that he didn't want to. He didn't know what to do."

Ezra's head was whirling, but he pushed the feeling aside for the moment. He could figure it all out later; right now, he just needed the truth. The hard facts. "And the memory loss?"

"That came later. When we finally got you back, you were extremely ill. You were feverish, mumbling, and honestly, we didn't think you'd make it. Except you did. You pulled through. But once you woke up, you didn't remember...anything."

Ezra nodded slowly. That seemed to make sense. But inside his heart, no matter what Hera said, he felt resentment towards Kanan fill his heart. "Can I be alone for a little while?"

Hera nodded understandingly. "Of course. And if you need to talk at all, I'm always available." She gave one past smile before leaving Ezra with his thoughts, and he was grateful of it. As nice as Hera was, he needed to sort out his thoughts.

It made sense, what she said happened, but it also seemed almost a bit too convenient. Everything just fit into place almost too well. But, Ezra reminded himself, they had both seemed so worried at the med clinic.

Then again, he realized, Kanan was a Jedi, and from what he'd heard of the mythical men, they had this sort of sixth sense, and could feel it when people were near. Maybe the Jedi had somehow told Hera Ezra was there and they had only been acting.

But would he ever know the truth?

A knock came at the door, but Ezra ignored it as a single tear ran down his cheek. All he wanted--no, needed--right then was to go home. And not his tower. Home.

When the knock sounded again, Ezra was on his knees by his set of drawers, emptying their contents into his backpack. And as the person knocking got tired of waiting without response and opened the door somehow, Ezra was ready.

Brushing past the stunned Kanan, Ezra ran out the door, down the ship ramp, and out into the endless grass fields of Lothal. Completely oblivious to the grave Jedi standing at the top of the Ghost's ramp, staring after him.

As Ezra ran, he wondered if he'd ever return to the ship and crew. Maybe. But then again, maybe not.

Did it matter? He was going home.