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Sabine Wren x Ezra Bridger

Knightfall

Story Summary: A mysterious new enemy attacks Grand Master Skywalker's Jedi Temple in the dead of night. Faced with overwhelming odds, Jedi Master Ezra Bridger and Jedi Master Sabine Wren must fight against an enemy determined to finish what Emperor Palpatine started so long ago: exterminating the Jedi, once and for all.

@sabezraweek Prompt: Free

"Everything dies. In time, even stars burn out." - Revenge of the Sith novelization, Matthew Stover

The temple was burning.

Jedi Master Ezra Bridger moved with all the speed he could muster, drawing on the Force to aid in his movement. Merely a hundred feet ahead were the stone steps leading into the temple -

His eyes narrowed and a lance of agony pierced his heart.

Bodies lay scattered on the steps. Silhouettes, lit by the inferno engulfing the Temple, were engaged in fierce battle up and down the staircase: some of them were garbed in the traditional Jedi robes, lightsabers ignited in shades of blue, green, yellow, and violet; others wearing the familiar sinister plaster-white of what could only be stormtrooper armor.

As he approached, the rapid staccato of blaster-fire pierced the cool evening air. Some of the remaining Jedi went down.

He called to his wife, Jedi Master Sabine Wren. "Sabine!"

"Yeah, I see it!" He heard swift movement somewhere behind to his left and felt her reassuring presence through the Force.

"You can get there faster and clear the way!" he shouted.

"On it! I'll try to save some for you, old man!" Sabine, wearing her customary Mandalorian armor underneath her Jedi robes, fired her jetpack and raced ahead. A moment later, her lightsaber flared to life, the green-white blade a stark contrast against the fiery red and orange they were racing towards.

Her humor, Ezra noted, was purely reflexive. In the Force, he could feel her inner turmoil and despair barely restrained by sheer force of will.

Be safe, my love, he thought, desperately.

His wife flew through the battle and lopped off a head from one of the stormtroopers. She landed, pivoted, and switched to her patented akimbo lightsaber/blaster style. With grim determination, she set to work, with the other Jedi Knights rallying to her aid.

Her lightsaber blade cleaved through the enemy force, a green blur punctuated by shots from her blaster.

Ezra allowed himself a grim smile.

He needn't have worried. Closing the gap quickly, he ignited his own lightsaber and joined his wife in the fray.

Her name is Sabine Wren. She is a Jedi Master.

In her lifetime, she has been born many titles.

Mandalorian. Rebel. Traitor. Jedi. Mother. Wife.

She is all of these things . . . and more.

Her story is famous among the Jedi younglings. She is fearless, passionate, and forthright. The first Mandalorian Jedi in a thousand generations.

Sabine is not particularly attached to any of these titles, although she is grateful for them; for what they taught her and how they continue to guide her, even now.

Sabine Wren, Jedi Master, values one thing above all: balance. A sense of life and purpose that, for the longest time, had eluded her.

After much hardship she finally found it in the most obvious of places: herself. She didn't need to be a Jedi to matter.

She just needed to be herself.

And that is what she excels at. That is what gives her such fearsome strength. She is the personification of a tempest in battle; her prowess in combat is said to rival that of Grand Master Skywalker himself.

She never gives into the anger; the fear. They are tools, merely to sharpen her edge. Through the Force, she burns so brightly like the starbird of legend that she wears proudly on her armor.

Her name is Sabine Wren. And even in the blackest of nights, she shines like a torch for all to follow.

A flicker in the Force; Sabine angled her lightsaber to swat away another blaster bolt. She crouched and aimed her blaster at a stormtrooper, a dozen steps up towards the entrance.

Pulling the trigger once, twice, three times - all shots found their mark. He fell limp and tumbled down the steps in comical fashion.

"Watch it!" she snapped to a Jedi Knight - a Wookie, still young, named Lowbacca - who was busy with two stormtroopers. A third was taking aim at him from the Temple entrance, a long rifle in his hand.

Lowbacca growled his acknowledgment and snapped his lightsaber, a unique bronze color, to a defensive position. The long rifle fired; the bolt was deflected away by the younger Jedi.

However that left his flank exposed to the other two stormtroopers he was previously engaged with.

Sabine prepared to jetpack straight for those two, only to find a barrage of blaster-fire halt her progress; another squad had appeared from the burning entrance of the Temple and began to batter the remaining Jedi with shots.

Realization hit Sabine like a gut punch.

I'm not going to make it. Lowbacca's going to die.

The stormtroopers, sensing their opportunity, raised their rifles -

And were promptly cut down in a flash of humming blue-white energy.

Fierce exultation filled Sabine's heart.

He was here. Ezra was here, at last.

Her husband sprinted up the steps with speed that shouldn't have been capable of any being, let alone a middle-aged man. But with the Force as his ally, there was little that couldn't be accomplished by Jedi Master Ezra Bridger.

Throwing out his hand, he called his lightsaber back into his hand and pounced towards the squad of stormtroopers at the Temple's entrance.

They saw him too late. His blue-white blade cut through the air, scattering away their fire, moving at a speed that defied logic. Within mere seconds, the squad was cut down.

Ezra pivoted away from them and raced down the steps, picking off the remaining scattered troops.

Sabine trained her blaster on the entrance but no more troopers appeared.

And like that, the battle was over.

She reached out through the Force, looking for any signs of life among the still bodies - but nothing.

Ezra had done what was necessary with his usual efficiency.

Lowbacca lowered his lightsaber and stared at Sabine - and then at Ezra, coming up to check on his wife.

The Jedi Master wasn't even breathing hard.

"Show off," said Sabine to her husband, smiling a little underneath the helmet.

"Hey, you liked it," retorted Ezra. He came close and eyed her. "Are you okay?"

"No injuries. Armor took all the pot shots, as always. You?"

He shook his head. "I'm alright."

They both looked around at the chaos around them. The remaining Jedi Knights were looking at them. Waiting.

Ezra turned to them and said one word. The word they were all dreading.

"Knightfall."

The fire burned behind them, casting shadows on their faces. Through the Force, she felt the grimness of their duty - what needed to be done - and the mourning for what was lost, bursting forth like a fountain in each of them.

But they nodded and ran into the night, one by one. Their duty was paramount. The future of the Jedi Order would be decided on this night, by their actions.

Lowbacca let out a howl of anguish. Ezra clapped him on the shoulder and spoke something in private to the Wookie Jedi.

Sabine felt a chill go down her spine - the wookie's howl sounded so much like the mourning cry of the Loth-wolves back at home.

Almost like an omen . . .

The Wookie Jedi Knight chuffed out a response, nodded once to Sabine, and then ran after his fellow Jedi Knights.

Sabine saw Ezra stare after them. She didn't need the Force to tell what her husband was feeling.

The fallen Jedi on the Temple steps spoke loud enough for her.

After a moment, Ezra turned to her. "Have you heard from Master Skywalker?"

Sabine frowned. "I'm not sure. Scattered reports from the other Jedi; they haven't seen him. He wasn't inside the Temple when the explosion went off."

"I can't sense him either. You?"

Sabine reached out - multiple presences inside the Temple, too numerous to count or identify.

She shook her head. "No, nothing. But there are survivors, I think. Other Jedi, still fighting."

Ezra grimaced. "We'll have to head inside, then." He paused. "Sabine, did you hear from . . . ?"

"Our daughter? Last I heard she was gathering up the younglings into the mess hall."

Aster Bridger-Wren, a Jedi Knight, like her mother and father. Their pride and joy and love.

Still inside the burning Temple.

Ezra asked, "Anything else?"

"No. Comms were jammed shortly after that."

Ezra nodded, but she felt his concern and anxiety double through the Force, thrumming like a taut power cable.

She reached out and grabbed his hand. "Ezra. She's tough. She'll be alright."

Ezra swept a hand at the chaos before them. "This enemy - who are they? Imperials?"

"Can't be. Empire's been dead for decades. This is something new."

She paused before stating, "I think it's the enemy General Organa was warning us about."

Ezra narrowed his eyes at her. "The Imperial remnant hiding in the Unknown Regions? They had this kind of firepower out there this whole time?"

"I don't know, Ezra. It's possible."

Another explosion rocked the Temple and the two Masters were briefly buffeted by wind and debris.

Her husband shook his head. "No time to talk theories. We need to get in there, find Aster and the younglings."

"What's the plan?"

He looked at her and ignited his lightsaber.

She grinned. "Oh, I like this plan."

He snorted. "You always do."

His name is Ezra Bridger. He is a Jedi Master.

A model to the other Jedi, he is considered to perfectly embody the quintessential Jedi essence: kind, compassionate, and diplomatic.

What very few realize is how funny he is; how passionate he can be, just like his wife; and, most importantly, how hopeful he remains on even the bleakest of days.

His love story - and subsequent marriage - with Sabine Wren is the stuff of legend; not just among the Jedi, but the galaxy as a whole. Holo-dramas have told and re-told their story to trillions galaxy-wide, never failing to amuse him (and exasperate his wife).

His proudest achievements are his daughter and marrying Sabine.

Where Master Wren is a storm, he is a gentle wind, swaying the grass fields; where she is a firestorm, he can be the rain; his light is not the burning torch of his wife, but a calm, unwavering candle in the night to guide your way.

His skills in combat are vastly underrated, only due to him preferring a more diplomatic approach to problem solving - but the few who have seen him in action have been awed to silence at his speed and efficiency.

Ezra Bridger is merciful. It is a quality that his wife - and others who admire him - adores.

But he is no push-over. And his mercy has its limits.

Something more eternal, more truthful, and more deeper to the Light Side of the Force exists within the soul of Ezra Bridger.

Because he knows the truth of life; of the light and the dark. He has seen it all in his life.

He knows the fundamental law of nature and lives its creed to the best of his ability everyday: that the dark must always yield to the light.

No matter how small the flame.

The way to the mess hall was choked with fire, smoke, and stormtroopers. Sabine pulled out a re-breather mask from her pouch and handed it to her husband.

"Thanks," he panted. Jedi had techniques for dealing with smoke inhalation, but they could only stretch out air for several extra minutes - and that was if they weren't doing anything strenuous at the same time.

The stormtroopers were handled with little problem by the two Jedi Masters; it was the bodies of fallen Jedi that disturbed them the most. Friends and acquaintances, all of them. Too many to count.

Sabine wondered if this was how her master, Ahsoka Tano, felt during Order 66. Did she see the bodies of her friends and comrades too? She never spoke much about the events of that bloody period of history.

Vaulting over the corpse of a Jedi youngling, Sabine didn't have to wonder why.

They felt the presence of her daughter huddled inside the mess hall with a group of younglings. The two Masters reached out through the Force and let her know that they were coming.

Reaching the door, Ezra said, "Sabine. Watch my back?"

"Always." She ignited her lightsaber and turned around to scan the hallway for any incoming enemy traffic.

He opened the door.

Inside was a mess; benches pushed to the sides of the hall, with the long tables used for dining bunched together in a tight half-circle. And enclosed in that circle . . .

"Aster! All clear!"

His daughter poked her head above the table, along with ten or so Jedi younglings.

"Dad!" She waved a hand at him.

Ezra felt his heart lift with the immense relief at the sight of her uninjured. He ran over and gave a huge bear hug that lifted her off the ground.

Sabine ran behind him and quickly closed the doors and locked them before joining her husband in an embrace of their family.

"I told your father you'd be alright," said Sabine. "Smart of you to barricade yourselves in the mess hall."

"Thanks," said Aster. She was tall for her age, a latent gift from her grandmother, Ursa Wren, who stood at a towering six feet. Her hair was cut short in a bob fashion, similar to her mother but she had inherited her father's dark blue color.

Even now, he smiled faintly at the memory invoked whenever she was within eyesight; she was the spitting image of her mother at that age. Except for the eyes - those she had gotten from him, perpetually piercing with their blue, bright-eyed gaze.

"You're not hurt anywhere?" He searched her all over, with all his senses.

"I'm fine, Dad, really." She paused and said. "There were Jedi Knights outside the door. Did they . . . ?"

Sabine shook her head. Ezra remembered the bodies they stepped over on the way here. "They didn't make it. I'm sorry."

Aster bit her lip and looked down.

Ezra put his hand on her shoulder and said, "Hey. They did their duty. Just like you did yours. Remember."

"Honor what they fought for," she said.

"Right. And we do that by getting you and the younglings out of here."

He looked to his wife. "Hangar bay?"

Sabine nodded. "I know a short-cut. Should be safe. We hid the corvettes pretty well in case of something like this. I doubt the Imperials know about it."

Aster looked at her mother sharply. "Is it really the Empire?"

Ezra shook his head. "I'm not sure. Your mother and I don't think so."

Sabine said, "Well, they fall pretty easily to a well-placed lightsaber."

Aster snorted. "That doesn't narrow down the list of suspects much, Mom."

Sabine shrugged. "Hey, I'm a Jedi Master. Not a detective."

Ezra smiled briefly at his wife before asking, "Have you seen or heard from Master Skywalker, Aster?"

His daughter frowned, thinking for a few moments. Then: "No, I haven't."

Ezra shared a despairing look with Sabine.

"But I saw his astromech droid."

Ezra's eyes widened. "Artoo? Where did you see him?"

One of the Jedi younglings - a small Togruta female - spoke up. "He was being taken by the troopers. They were heading towards the inner defenses."

Ezra felt an icy fist clutch his heart. He looked at Sabine.

"It's bad, isn't it," she said, quietly.

"They have his astromech. Luke trusted Artoo with everything regarding the temple - if the Jedi are to escape, we need those defenses. They're probably trying to get him to turn them off."

She cocked her head at him. "What's the plan, Ezra?"

He smiled sadly at her. "I'm counting on you."

Even under the helmet, he could feel her eyes blazing at him. "Absolutely not. We go together."

"Someone needs to stay with Aster and the younglings to guide them out safely."

Sabine took off her helmet and stepped closer to him; her eyes were swimming in tears. "I am not leaving you here to die some stupid, noble death!"

Ezra gently grabbed her and lead them both away from Aster and the younglings. He could feel the worried eyes of his daughter watching her parents.

"I don't want her to see us fighting. Not at a time like this," he said to her in a low voice.

"The Jedi Order is dying, Ezra. We need everyone to fight back against this shadow enemy - "

"No, we need them!" He waved at Aster and the younglings. "They're the future! They're what we need to save, Sabine."

She shook her head. "Don't ask me to do this. Please, Ezra." Sabine reached out and cupped his face.

It took everything he had to step away. How badly he wanted to stay with her.

Just like before. A long, long time ago . . .

Softly, he gave his wife a kiss. "We had our time. I was happy with you. With Aster. With Hera and Jacen and Zeb and Chopper. And Kanan."

Sabine started to weep.

"It's time to pay it forward, my love. For the future. For Aster."

She looked away from him for a long moment. Then she put on her helmet. Sorrow radiated out from her like a furnace but he felt the iron will of his wife begin assert determination into her being.

She had made her choice.

Once, a long time ago, she had made a wrong choice. And Sabine had vowed never to do so again.

No matter the cost.

"Aster. Gather the younglings. Keep them in a tight formation."

Aster nodded and started issuing instructions. Sabine looked to her husband and said, "Thirty minutes."

Ezra frowned. "What?"

"I'm giving you thirty minutes, Ezra. Then we leave."

"Sabine . . . "

She grabbed him by the tunic. "I don't care, Ezra. The Force can't decide all of it. You owe it to me and your daughter to try."

Ezra blinked and smiled at his wife.

Do or do not . . .

"I promise to try," he replied. "That's the best I can give."

Sabine nodded and let him go. Igniting her lightsaber she went to the door and peered out.

"All clear. Aster, we're heading out."

Aster ignited her own lightsaber - a vivid, pink hue - and led the tightly formed group of younglings out the door. Ezra took up the rear.

Before they went separate ways, Aster gave him a quick hug.

"Is this . . . good-bye?" she asked, voice quivering. His daughter was trying so hard to be brave.

Ezra almost couldn't trust himself to answer.

She would have known if he was lying.

He just squeezed his daughter a little harder in the hug, feeling her; the strength born from him and Sabine, all their knowledge and fears and joys, flowing into her.

"Follow your mother. Remember your training. And trust the Force."

She nodded into her shoulder. "I will, Dad."

He watched them leave, Sabine leading them into a side corridor.

Ezra looked at his wife. Sabine paused and took one last look at him.

He wanted nothing more than to freeze that moment. To savor the image of his wife, beautifully fierce, for an eternity.

A disturbance in the Force -

"Ezra!" shouted Sabine.

He whipped around, igniting his lightsaber in time to parry two shots aimed for his sternum.

Stormtroopers, coming around the bend. They aimed their rifles and started to fire.

He batted away the shots. "Sabine! Go!"

He felt her hesitation . . . and then it was replaced with grim determination. "Thirty minutes, Ezra! Don't be late, old man!"

And then she was gone, quickly ducking into the side corridor.

Ezra huffed out a quick laugh, dodging another blaster bolt. He deflected another one straight back to its shooter.

"Sorry, fellas," he said to the remaining stormtroopers. "Can't be late for this date."

He moved in on them, the Force guiding his hands.

Drawing on the Force, Ezra made the sprint to the Temple's inner defenses in five minutes.

His comm-link chirped as he stood outside the door, reaching out with the Force. Five presences, all filled with malicious intent.

He could also hear the pained squealing of an astromech droid.

Ezra ducked to the side and spoke into his comm-link. "Sabine?"

"Ezra. We've arrived and are powering up the corvette."

He breathed out a sigh of relief. "Any issues?"

"Not really. Diced up some stormtroopers on the way. Aster did this neat flip move that I think Master Skywalker taught her."

Exasperated, Ezra heard his daughter groan. "Mom."

"It was very fancy. I think I saw you do something like that, when you were younger. Way younger."

Ezra growled, "I'm not that old, Sabine. You're older than me, you know."

"He's a charmer, your dad. How are things on your end?"

Ezra readied his lightsaber. "About to get this party started."

He paused and said, "Wish you were here."

Sabine replied, "Well, you can tell me all about it when you get back in twenty minutes."

Ezra smiled, despite the situation. Sabine always knew what to say. "I'll do that."

"Yeah. You will. Or I'm coming for you." The call ended.

He readied a breath and stepped inside.

Despite the simple name, the Temple's inner defenses were a complex network of fail-safes and redundancies; all tied to a single, massive computer core that oversaw a whole network of protocols that kept the Temple running smoothly.

In case of an attack, the whole network was to run automatically without need of supervision; an alarm was to be sounded for evacuation and a recorded message from a selected Jedi Master broadcasted to the other temples to warn them.

In addition, multiple turbo-lasers were embedded in the grounds all surrounding the Temple. If there was a carrier waiting in orbit - as Ezra suspected there was - the turbo-lasers would fire unceasingly, giving fleeing Jedi a cover to escape.

It was an ingenious system devised by Master Skywalker and the New Republic's best and brightest - but it failed to account for one possibility.

Sabotage from within.

As Ezra stepped inside, the first thing he noted was the slashes all over the consoles. Sloppy, powerful, angry strokes - but not made from any metal blade.

Made from a lightsaber. The Force radiated with the rage and power from within the room; an echo of whoever had done this damage.

I've got a bad feeling about this, he thought. Ezra hadn't the slightest clue who from Luke's students would be capable of such a betrayal.

The second thing he noted was the squad of troopers huddled around a familiar astromech - R2-D2, Master Skywalker's trusted droid. He lay on his back as the troopers took turns poking stun batons at him.

"Stupid droid," one of them muttered. "Have you ever met one so annoying? They usually cave after the first shock."

Ezra decided that stormtrooper would be the first. Igniting his lightsaber, he said, "Hey, why don't you pick on someone your own size?"

They all whirled around. "Jedi!" screeched one of them.

Ezra pounced. There was a random array of shots, easily blocked by him.

Five swift slashes later, he was alone in the room with Artoo.

"Hey, buddy," he said, picking up the droid. The astromech warbled a relieved response to him.

"Have you heard from Master Luke, Artoo?"

Artoo replied in the negative. He sighed. "Figures."

Artoo beeped worriedly. "I'm sure he's alright. Anyway, can you get these consoles up and running? We need to get the defenses operational before - "

A sudden flicker in the Force was his only warning. Ezra dove to the side as an explosion shook the room. Bits of ceiling and rubble sprayed over him.

Shaking himself at this daze, Ezra looked up and saw the stars.

And then he saw the stars blotted out by something massive. Hovering over the planet.

Artoo had already jacked himself into the console. Within seconds the consoles came to life - and beeped an alert at him.

"A little late, but thanks. Yeah, I see it Artoo." He whistled. "That's a huge ship."

Artoo beeped a statement at him.

"The Supremacy? Sounds like someone important is visiting us tonight."

"Shall I tell you his name?" asked a menacing voice.

Ezra ignited his lightsaber and looked around to the source. A human man stood there, mid-30s with brown hair and a permanently pinched expression, garbed in what looked like an Imperial officer's uniform.

Only it was all in black. Not the usual monotone gray.

He held a blaster pistol in his hand, aimed at Ezra.

"Artoo, get those defenses up and running now."

More footsteps - hard and orderly; a marching formation.

Twelve more stormtroopers filed into the room and formed a semi-circle around Ezra and Artoo. They raised their rifles.

Ezra forced calm into his voice. "I know you're all scared. I'm a Jedi; I can sense these things."

The officer sneered at him. "We've killed plenty of your Jedi tonight."

Ezra cocked his head at him. "Not me, though. I'm still alive. I'm sure some of you are wondering why that it is."

He lifted his lightsaber in a defensive salute. "If you want to leave, you may do so."

The officer laughed. "No one will be leaving, Jedi. Except for you, in a body bag."

"So, what are you? Empire? Or something else?" Ezra couldn't help but be curious.

At the word Empire, the officer seemed insulted. Ezra could practically feel the man boil over with indignant rage.

"Do not," he said through gritted teeth, spittle flying from his mouth, "compare us to that bureaucratic, bloated waste of an Empire!"

Ezra raised his eyebrows in astonishment at the man's reaction. "My apologies."

"We are so much more! Led by our Supreme Leader Snoke, we will create order! We will enforce peace! No more New Republic, no more Empire - just an Eternal Order, the first of it's kind in the galaxy!"

He jabbed the blaster pistol at Ezra in a frenzy. "We are the First Order, Jedi!"

"First, huh." Beside him, Artoo beeped softly.

All finished. He nodded at the astromech droid.

All at once, the ground shook as the turbo-lasers, finally re-activated, began to blast away at the super-carrier in orbit above the Temple.

The First Order officer blinked in surprise. "What . . . ?"

Ezra pulled him forward with the Force, impaling him on the lightsaber blade.

"Ggghrk," said the First Order officer. Ezra leaned in close to whisper in the idiot's ear.

"The Jedi Order will make sure that your 'First Order' will also be the last. You should have learned something from your predecessors - never let a Jedi talk."

The fury erupted in the man's eyes - and then faded all at once. He was dead.

Ezra tossed him off the blade and waved to the stormtroopers. "Next?"

They opened fire.

Letting the Force guide his hands into a defensive pattern, Ezra shouted to the astromech droid. "Artoo! You're all good, buddy. Go find Master Skywalker!"

Artoo squealed in protest.

"I'll be fine. Gotta stay here to make sure they don't shut down the defenses again." His blade hummed angrily, swatting away more blaster-fire. "Go, go!"

The droid sighed in resignation and activated his boosters, flying through a hole in the ceiling.

And then it was just Ezra. Alone.

Deflecting more shots, he spoke into his comm-link to say good-bye to his wife . . . only for him to realize that it had been damaged in the explosion from earlier.

So that was it, then.

No more good-byes.

Ezra Bridger drew the Force into him, letting him fill his entire being until he could feel his cells glowing with its power.

And then he went to work. Moving with impossible speed, cutting down the stormtroopers; dodging, weaving, parrying with unerring accuracy and grace.

The twelve that entered didn't stand a chance.

But more came. Filing through, blasters firing away.

And then more. And more. And more.

And more. An unending, unceasing flood of white armor and red blaster-fire.

Ezra Bridger, Jedi Master, knew the math was not coming in his favor for this battle.

But he could not let them turn off the defenses.

And so he fought. Drawing more and more of the Force into himself.

It was dangerous, he knew. That much Force usage would burn out even an experienced Jedi in minutes.

He was burning himself out.

Ezra wondered if he could count how much time he had left in heartbeats. His hands weaved the lightsaber, blocking three shots -

A fourth got through. His leg.

He drew more of the Force in, walling away the pain. He pivoted, sliced through the abdomen of another stormtrooper -

His shoulder erupted in pain. Ezra ignored it.

And then his abdomen, left side.

He was fading. Somehow, barely conscious, he was still moving. Still fighting. His body moved on instinct, despite the increasing toll of his mounting injuries.

F a d i n g . . .

Memories.

Meeting Sabine for the first time. How intimidating she was; how fierce she looked in the Mandalorian armor. How beautiful she looked under the helmet. Feelings that had never gone away - that he never expected to be reciprocated until she found him again.

Kanan. His first lessons as a Padawan, learning how to wield the lightsaber, how to open himself to the Force; but, above all, how to be a good person.

Hera. The Twi'lek who was like a mother to him. The laughter they shared, how she protected and taught him. He remembered the tears she wept after his long voyage home from Peridea, sweeping him into the deepest, warmest hug he could ever have imagined after such a lonely exile.

Zeb. Cantankerous, reliable Zeb. The joy and deep soul underneath that gruff exterior.

Chopper. Foul-mouthed but ever dependable. The fun times they had getting out of sticky situations with the Empire.

Ahsoka. Always looking forward, always wise, always a mentor whenever he needed. She was the one to knight him. Helped mold him into the Jedi Master he was today.

More memories. More fuel to keep him going. Feeding the fire that was going out.

Sabine finding him again on Peridea. How easily they slipped into old habits, hiding away what had changed.

How her betrayal had shaken him - but they made it through, together. Forged a bond that could never be broken.

Meeting Jacen for the first time. Feeling his heart crack at how much like Kanan he looked.

Ending Thrawn's reign of terror against the galaxy. Saving the New Republic.

Living with Sabine. Falling in love all over again.

The marriage. Their vows. Waking up to Sabine, sleeping next to him, softly snoring. Feeling the weight of her, how she felt, the strength of her heartbeat.

The birth of their daughter, Aster.

Seeing her first steps, her first words; seeing her enter the Academy for the first time.

So many memories.

He fed them all into the fire.

The blaster-fire stopped at some point.

Ezra stood, just barely. He couldn't feel much at that point. His lightsaber held just aloft in a position that required the least amount of energy to hold.

Around him lay the crumpled bodies of at least a hundred stormtroopers. All dead.

A voice crawled into his head. Through the Force.

You have fought well, Master Jedi.

It sounded like . . . the Grand Inquisitor? No, it couldn't be. Or maybe it was Vader?

Or . . . Thrawn?

"Who is this?" he muttered.

The death of your Order, the voice said. The beginning of mine.

Somewhere in the haze of his mind, he remembered. "Snoke," he said.

Remember it well. For the short time you have left.

Three figures walked through the entrance, wearing scarlet armor. They moved through the sea of dead bodies like red wraiths.

In their hands, wicked blades with purple electricity surging through them.

Ezra had heard of them from the days of the Empire from Luke.

Praetorian guards.

Die well, Master Bridger, said the voice.

Still fading. Just embers left now.

Ezra, still in pain, lifted his lightsaber one last time.

Sabine looked desperately at the chronometer. Ezra hadn't arrived yet.

They were out of time.

"Anything?" she asked Aster.

Aster, tears streaming down her face, shook her head. "I can't raise him. Comms must be down."

Another explosion rocked the hangar bay.

"Not much of the turbo-lasers left," she said. "The massive ship above is bombing what's left."

She looked at her mother. "We have to get Dad. Let me get him."

I'm counting on you.

Sabine grabbed her daughter and sat her back down. "Tell the younglings to strap in and prepare for take-off."

A part of her was screaming, dying at what she was about to do.

"What? No - no, we're not leaving him, right? Mom!" Aster looked at her mother, pleading.

Sabine didn't listen. She keyed the control for the hangar bay doors and pushed the engines to maximum.

"Mom!" Aster yelled at her. "You're leaving him! You're leaving Dad behind!"

She glanced out the view-port to the burning Temple below.

Good-bye, my love.

Sabine knew, deep down, that she would always regret not saying it to him for the rest of her life.

She pushed the throttle and aimed for the stars.

The battle didn't last long.

It didn't need to. Ezra had done what was needed.

The praetorian guards pulled their blades from him. He fell over, watching the blood seep onto the stone floor.

One of them kicked him onto his back.

Through the crack in the ceiling, he saw a frigate rocket by, weaving through the laser bombardment, flying towards freedom.

He knew his wife and daughter were on there. Safe.

I'm sorry, Sabine. Going to be late after all. Hope you don't mind waiting a bit.

One of the Praetorian guards raised his blade for a final blow.

Ezra reached out one last time into the Force. Blowing life into the embers that were left.

With a strained shout, he threw his hands towards that cracked Temple ceiling. It shifted and groaned -

And then collapsed. Tons of rubble falling, caving in on the room.

The Praetorian guards screamed but had nowhere to run.

Ezra Bridger smiled, thinking of his watchtower - how the sun hit the capital city at the right angle making it sparkle in the early evening; how holding Sabine's hand felt on a warm, breezy day, just sitting in the grass fields, watching the Loth-cats scurry about . . .

He was still thinking about Sabine when he died.

FAR, FAR AWAY (Jacen)

Jacen Syndulla, Jedi in training, raced onto the docking ramp of the Ghost. His mother, Hera, is already preparing to lift-off from the Ghost cockpit.

"Jacen! Are we all set?"

He mentally checked the list one more time. "Yeah! That's everything!"

The broadcast from Master Skywalker's Temple had hit them hard - but the plan was already in motion. The Jedi were on the move.

Knightfall. Knightfall. Knightfall.

"Jacen, get up here! Gonna need you for navigation!"

"Alright, Mom," Jason shouted back. He began to close the ramp -

He paused. Two figures, shrouded in ghostly blue and somewhat translucent in Jedi robes, stood at the end.

One of them lowered his hood. Jacen sucked in a breath; it was a face he had only seen in holos and photographs.

"Dad?" he whispered.

His father, Kanan Jarrus, waved at him. He smiled sadly and turned to the other figure who also lowered his hood.

Jacen took a step back. "No, it can't be."

It was Ezra. He looked pointedly at Jacen and the younger Jedi could hear him in his thoughts.

It's up to you now, Jacen. You're the future.

Jacen began to cry. "Ezra, wait - "

I'll be seeing you around, kid. Don't worry. And look after your mom.

And then he was gone. They were both gone.

The docking ramp closed.

"Jacen! Where are you?"

After a couple minutes, Hera let Chopper doing the flying. She found her son, huddled at the docking entrance, still crying.

FAR, FAR AWAY (Ahsoka)

Ahsoka Tano turned to Huyang and asked, "Are the coordinates set?"

"Yes, Lady Tano. I expect we'll be the first to arrive."

They were sitting in the cockpit of her trusty T-6, waiting in deep space.

"Good. Any news from General Organa?"

"She'll be meeting us there, along with the other Resistance leaders," replied the droid.

The Jedi Master sighed and began to feel her age. "I can't believe it's happening again, Huyang."

The droid concurred with a sad tone. "Yes. Twice in my lifetime."

"And mine, too." Ahsoka had felt the disturbance in the Force, shortly followed by the broadcast from Luke's Temple.

Knightfall. Knightfall. Knightfall.

She drove a fist into her leg. "We're ready this time, though. We saw this coming."

Huyang replied, "The enemy is far more devious and quicker than we imagined. But, yes, we do have a plan ready for this."

Ahsoka opened her mouth to reply . . . only to feel a wave of sadness and grief wash over her. It was so intense and immediate that she doubled over in her pilot's chair.

I'm leaving it to you, Ahsoka. Thank you for everything.

"Ezra," she whispered. "No, oh no. Ezra."

Huyang, alarmed, asked, "Lady Tano? What is the matter?"

Ahsoka didn't reply. She was too busy crying over her lost friend.

FAR, FAR AWAY (Sabine)

Aster felt Ezra's passing before she did.

Sabine watched her daughter whisper, "Dad?", shudder once and then begin to sob, unrestrained.

And then - an invisible hand stroked her hair.

Ezra's voice, in her head.

Sorry, Sabine. You'll have to wait a little longer. I love you.

She reached out to grab the hand, but it was already gone.

And that's when she knew, more than anything else she had seen in the burning Jedi Temple, that her world had ended.

The frigate lay hidden in an asteroid field.

They had been pursued, as she expected. Sabine had used up every piloting trick she knew or heard about to escape the enemy.

Finally, they had stopped in an asteroid field to take stock and rest. Everything but the life support was turned off, in the event their pursuers came sniffing around.

And all that was left to do was . . . wait. Until they heard from Ahsoka.

Sabine sat in the darkness, feeling almost grateful for it.

Ezra was dead.

She kept repeating it in her head. It was a fact but that didn't make it feel any more true.

Ezra was dead. Ezra was dead.

"Mom?"

She looked over to Aster - and realized they weren't alone.

The younglings had all come to the bridge. They were scared, even if they were doing a good job of hiding it.

"Yes, Aster?"

"I'm - I'm sorry for yelling at you earlier. About leaving Dad behind."

Sabine shook her head. "It's the truth. That's what I did."

Aster reached out and took her hand. Sabine could feel Ezra's strength in those hands.

"It's what he wanted. He wanted to make sure we were safe."

The words tumbled into the hollow space in her heart where Ezra used to be. They didn't make much of a difference in how she felt, but she forced herself to nod.

"Master Wren?" asked one of the younglings.

Sabine said, "Yes?"

"Can you tell us a story? To pass the time?"

Sabine almost laughed. "A story?"

What use are stories at a time like this?

Aster replied, "I think that's a good idea. Mom?"

Sabine sighed - and then heard Ezra's voice.

Tell them a story, Sabine. You've got plenty of them.

She frowned. Why? What good would it do?

Well, it'll stop you from moping around, for one.

Oh, funny.

You've got to give them hope, Sabine.

Even when I don't have any for myself? she asked.

Especially, then, replied Ezra's voice.

She sighed. I miss you so much, already, goofball.

"Alright, gather around. I've got one. About going into another galaxy."

The younglings eyes widened and they huddled into a circle around her.

There was a small yelp. "Ouch."

Sabine winced. "Yeah, okay. Probably need some light, then. Can't use technology though . . ."

Aster said, "Hang on, I've got a lighter here."

She flicked it on. "Is that from Dad?" asked Sabine, amazed.

Her daughter's eyes opened in realization. "Yeah, for my birthday. He said they used to use this way back in the early, early days before the Republic. It's an antique."

Sabine watched the small flame, dancing defiantly in the dark. It lit the faces of all that were present -

And, for a small instant, she saw Ezra - smiling, huddled in the circle, ready to hear one of her stories.

I'm counting on you, Sabine.

She smiled, feeling the tears coming on. Sabine bowed her head for a moment, cleared her throat - and started telling the story.

"A long time ago, in a galaxy, far, far away . . . "

"The dark is generous and it is patient and it always wins – but in the heart of its strength lies its weakness: one lone candle is enough to hold it back. Love is more than a candle. Love can ignite the stars." - Revenge of the Sith novel, Matthew Stover

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