Moonlessnight: Despite my long absence, I am not dead. I am just dreadfully busy. Not too busy, however, to catch this new gem of a show on the television. I just caught up to the most current episode and felt this little bit needed to be written after work...and chores...and life in general took time. So, while this little story is short, at least it made it to the page. Hopefully, I will have some more one-shots to add to this section soon. If time permits anyway... Until then, please enjoy this for what it is.

Echoes in the Force

Taken.

Kanan had been taken by the Inquisitor.

Ezra still reeled from the shock. He still felt the deck roll beneath his feet like that first jerking jolt away from the radio tower, right before Hera sealed the hatch. Just so, Ezra kept his hand against the wall as he slowly made his way to his shared bunk for the night. Just like the night before…and the night before that... and the night before that. No one knew for certain where the Empire had taken Kanan.

Gritting his teeth, the teen turned orphan once again wondered for the hundredth time why Kanan stayed behind. Hera could have made a low sweep in the Ghost. A quick Force-fueled jump and he would have been safe. Instead…well.

Ezra missed a step, leaning into the wall as his other hand shot up to his head. "Not again," he muttered through clenched teeth. He placed one foot in front of the other, placing his feet with deliberate care as the world shifted around him. One door splattered in paint for Sabine, and a hallway that stretched on like the deserts of Tatooine. Ezra cracked an eye open as the door slid aside, tensing his legs to dodge whatever wayward object Zeb might let fly from his bunk.

Darkness greeted him. Darkness nestled in a tidy - but terribly empty - room. Another wave of agony rippled through the air, so visceral Ezra felt bile creep across his tongue. Fighting the urge to spit, and half certain the metallic taste in his mouth meant bit lip, Ezra stumbled into the room. No use letting Hera see him like this. No need to worry her with the truth she already suspected.

Just beyond the door, Ezra stumbled again and sat heavily to deny gravity the pleasure of introducing his face to the floor. A ragged breath escaped past the ever-present knot in his chest, a whisper of the hurricane of emotion hidden just beyond outward appearances. Ezra closed his eyes before the next wave came, folding his legs and laying his palms just so.

Taking a deep breath, Ezra focused with an intensity sure to impress his master. His next breath came easier as he reached within to find the thread which bound him to all other living things. Taking up the thread in imaginary hands, he traced it up and out into the Ghost and then, beyond into the void between stars. Softly he cast his awareness like a net, stretching farther than any simple training.

Practice makes perfect, they say, and Ezra had practiced this lesson every night since the radio tower fell. Granted, usually laying in his own bunk with Zeb snoring away in the bunk below.

Ezra experienced a flare of pride as he surpassed his personal best distance, which was quickly tamped down by another wave of pain not-his-own. The link wavered, but held as the pain reminded Ezra acutely of the purpose of this particular venture. Somewhere in his mind, Kanan whispered out of memory, "You need to lower you defenses. You can't reach out if you won't let anyone in."

"Why, Kanan?" Ezra whispered to himself, "When you let people in, they hurt you." The net wavered, but didn't fray. "But you did more than let us in, didn't you. That's why you stayed behind. To protect us...and now you are the one hurt." The question came again, in softer tones pleading for understanding, "Why, Kanan?"

Ezra's final defenses fell with the splash of a single tear.

Awareness came fleeting, impressions of colors half seen, sounds half heard. Here a child laughed, while half a world away another child cried. Here a cub played with its brother. There, another cub mourned its mother. All echoing through the endless flow of the Force, resounding in one grand chord that rang of life and death in equal measure. Through it all, Ezra searched, and sifted, and waited. An hour passed, or maybe a minute. One second, one minute, one day, a lifetime searching the fabric of space for a particular thread bearing a very specific signature.

When the pain came again, Ezra rode it like a tauntaun in a snow storm, clinging tight to the sensation as his traced its wavering thread through the blackness to a pin prick of wavering light at the furthest edge of his net and moving inexorably away. Despite a headache fit to tilt with world into vertigo whimsy and the deep concentration marring his brow, Ezra smiled.

"Kanan!" He called to the light. The light wavered as the agony ebbed to be replaced by a new cascading wave of torment. Ezra recognized the icy touch of fear slicking the light's pattern, recognized confusion and a touch of doubt. "Kanan, it's Ezra. I'm here, Kanan! You aren't alone!"

The light shifted away slightly, recoiling from the mental touch. Ezra shook his head and strained further, reached for the light as a new wave of pain unleashed its fury.

Ezra's breath hitched involuntarily. Tears snaked tracks from his closed eyes as he clung to the wavering light of his master's presence in the Force. He teetered on a precipice, dangerously close to his limits and a hairs breadth from discovery by the dimly sensed, darker presence torturing his master. Still, Ezra had gained something precious from this experience that he desperately wanted to share. "Kanan, if you can hear me, please…." Ezra hesitated, fishing for the words which bled away into obscurity almost before they formed thanks to the strain of contact. Finally, he settled for a simple platitude and an even simpler promise. "Please remember: 'There is no passion. There is Serenity. There is no chaos. There is only harmony.' Don't let him break you, Kanan! We are coming. I promise you. We will rescue you!"

The light dimmed, seeming to flicker as the distance between master and Padawan grew. Afraid to let the connection go, Ezra held on as long as he could.

Just before the ever thinning thread of the connection grew taunt, Kanan's voice echoed through the Force. "'There is no death. There is only the Force.' Be quick Padawan. May the Force be with you."

The tenuous connection snapped suddenly, coiling in upon itself with such intensity that Ezra's head snapped back as though struck by Zeb's stave. Ezra fell backwards, temporarily blinded and deafened to the world around him. For several long moments, he was aware only of the staccato of his own heart against his ribs and the rasp of his own, shaky breaths. As sensation slowly returned, Ezra found his arms wrapped protectively around his own shoulders, knees tucked tight against his chest as he cried silently.

"Fear is of the Dark Side," Ezra quietly chided himself, "And so is anger. You better just be unconscious Kanan, or I am going to have a hard time justifying what I am going to do to that bastard Inquisitor."