There was something about seeing a Star Destroyer suspended against the unending darkness of the cosmos that sent a shiver of fear down the spine of any unfortunate observer who was close enough to view the massive war machine. Perhaps it was the sheer size of it, or maybe the almost razor sharp design that seemed ready to tear through anything in its path. Whatever the personal reasons, it was obvious that this was a ship designed to intimidate, and it was very adept at accomplishing the affect.

Kanan's growing unease as he observed the looming vessel had less to do with the physical design and more to do with what it stood for. This was a symbol of the Empire, a grim, constant reminder of every unspeakable horror and atrocity committed under its reign. These were the beings responsible for the destruction of his former way of life and countless loved ones, and now they were responsible for taking his padawan and tearing apart his little family of rebellious misfits. The hulking mass of metal before him represented fear, discontent, sorrow, and abrupt farewells to bonds that faded much too soon.

It dredged up memories that were best left forgotten and buried, and left the burning sensation of regret and despair lingering in their wake. He had spent so little time with Ezra. He hadn't had a chance to get through the durasteel walls that the kid had painstakingly built to hide away his past. There hadn't even been enough time for Kanan to open up and share his story, to show that he understood the pain of loss and was there for Ezra if he really needed him. What if he was too late? Would this be another instance where he never got to say goodbye?

A light touch on his shoulder jolted him out of his thoughts and brought him back to the present. He blinked in surprise and took his eyes off of the approaching vessel to glance at the source of the sudden comforting gesture. Hera wasn't looking in his direction, but the concern and support that she showed through that single movement was enough. Her touch reminded him that he wasn't going through this alone, and that the others were also affected by their circumstances. It also reminded him that clinging to the past and wallowing in regret and sorrow would not help them get Ezra back. He needed to focus. This was the moment that mattered.

Hera's gaze shifted, her eyes locking onto his for a brief second. So much could be shared in that brief window of time, but it still wasn't long enough for everything that he wanted to convey to her. Kanan hoped that she could see through his fear and concern to discover his determination and gratitude, just as he could read her trust and support through her nervousness and worry. He needed her to know how much she meant to him. She was a bright light in a galaxy that grew darker every day. She kept him sane and grounded when fate decided it hadn't done enough in it's efforts to make his life a living hell. She gladly leant him her strength during times like this, when his doubts threatened to overwhelm him. He hoped that she could see he lucky he felt to have someone like her by his side.

Suddenly, after a light squeeze of acknowledgement - of what, Kanan couldn't say - the moment was over. He was left to push any questions from it to the back of his mine as his attention was dragged back to the matter at hand. The Star Destroyer was growing bigger by the second, and it wouldn't be too long before the massive ship noticed their arrival. If they were going to have even the slightest chance of possible success, then they were going to have to follow their plan to the letter from here on out, as well as rely on whatever dumb luck that they had that usually turned the tide of a crazy mission in their favor. Hopefully, Druce and his crew were also equipped with the same ridiculous blessing that had saved their skins more times that Kanan cared to think about.

Speaking of their recently acquired ally, Druce's battered smuggling vessel abruptly pulled out of hyperspace to the right of the Ghost, cruising a bit ahead of them. Kanan briefly considered attempting to contact them through their comlink to make sure that everything was still going according to plan, but he decided against it. It hadn't taken the Specters long to realize that their fellow rebels were not the most chatty bunch. Information was shared in short conversations, and any questions posed were met with curt responses or awkward silences. Kanan would have joined Zeb and Sabine in complaining about the usefulness of even asking for their help if Druce hadn't somehow acquired intel on Ezra's whereabouts in a fairly timely manner. It was clear that they were efficient and capable, but it was just as obvious that there was a rift between the two crews. Hera would probably tell him that he was being paranoid, but he couldn't shake the feeling that Druce knew more than he was letting on, or at least had a few guesses that were too close to the truth for comfort. He didn't have any evidence, which would usually put him off this train of thought, but another possible threat to Ezra's safety was enough to sway his opinion on gut feelings.

It was a little late to ask their help to back out now, especially since Druce and his crew were the ones to find usable intel. What kind of message would that send? Oh, yeah, thanks for telling us where to find our missing crew member. We really appreciate it. Now please get lost. Could that be any more suspicious? He might as well have Sabine paint the side of the Ghost in vibrant colors to say WE'RE HIDING SOMETHING! No, they had to stick to the plan, despite the feeling worming into his gut that things were about to go very, very wrong. They would just have to improvise when things went tits up. It wasn't like that had never had to do that before.

The tight sensation of unease only intensified as they drew closer and closer to the looming mass of grey, reaching a point where the dull metallic color blocked out the multitudes of distant stars from their line of sight. It was almost a subtle, ominous threat, one that never had to be said out loud in order to ring true: the Empire, with all their might and power, was capable of blocking out even the brightest of stars. That kind of strength was enough to make anyone rethink their life choices if they ever found themselves facing off against it.

However, after Kanan thought about it, that wasn't quite what he was feeling. Sure, there was fear, but it faded to the background when it contended with his anger and anticipation. The Empire may be strong, but they had made a grave mistake when they decided to take his padawan and turn him into something he wasn't for their own nefarious purposes. Now there was no possible way of blocking out the shining light of righteous fury, hope, and love that was burning in him and his crew, and they would use that fire to burn down the entire monstrous vessel if they had to. Nothing was going to keep them from making sure that their youngest member was safe and sound, whether that meant protecting him from the Empire or the Rebel Alliance itself.

And if this mission forced them into that position, well, at least they would all be together again.

The sudden arrival of the rebels was… obnoxious, to say the least. He had assumed that he would have a bit more time to study the boy before his precious crew came to rescue him.

Not that it mattered, of course. If their previous encounter had been anything to go by, he would easily quash this new laughable attempt to thwart his schemes. The Jedi posed the biggest threat out of their whole motley little group, but, even then, his meager skills were nowhere near challenging. Was the man simply incompetent, or had he never completed his training? Judging from his looks, he had probably been a padawan himself during the fall of the Order.

Either way, he mused, the Jedi's weak abilities were inconsequential. When he faced him again, he would be sure to actually go through with killing him instead of letting his excitement and triumph make rash decisions for him. The Jedi's continued existence was a loose thread that could, unlikely as it was, cause his hard work to unravel once more. He did not have time to hastily stitch things together again, and the Emperor and his master would not tolerate another failure on this scale.

With that in mind, he stepped out of the room where the boy was held, only to bump into a harried-looking young officer. The boy offered a quick, somewhat sloppy salute, which the Inquisitor would have ordinarily found offensive if the situation hadn't been what it was, and proceeded to offer a report.

"Sir! Two ships have locked on to us and have begun firing. TIEs have been deployed to keep them at bay."

He nodded absently as the officer discussed countermeasures, more intent on sensing out the Rebels that he was sure were already sneaking around the ship like the rats that they were. "Good. Keep me informed. I believe that a few pests may have managed to slip through our defenses. See to it that they do not make it far."

"Yes, sir!"

The officer ran off, leaving the Inquisitor alone with his thoughts once more. It was certainly interesting. Had the Rebels acquired allies for their rescue mission? This was unexpected. Most cells that he had encountered, and decimated, had been fairly independent. He assumed that it was due to how far apart each group was spread across the galaxy, as well as to maintain some form of secrecy and protection. After all, it would be bad tactics to allow one fallen cell to drag down the whole organization.

Why, then, had these particular Rebels suddenly found reinforcements that they could call in to rescue their missing member. And why had their help agreed in the first place? He couldn't imagine any sensible Rebels wanting to rescue and Imperial weapon and release it into the galaxy. There must be some other hidden agenda behind this little rescue attempt that he wasn't seeing. Did they think that there was some way of turning his weapon against him? Whatever their reasoning was, it would not matter in the end. He would be victorious, and the Empire would once again prove that resistance was futile. There was no way that the boy would ever return to the facade of light that he had created for himself. He would make sure that the Jedi and his little Rebel friends realized that right before he ended their pathetic lives. It would be much more satisfying to have the boy do it for him, but he would have to make do with this alternative.

He was surprised to see that the Jedi had decided to face him alone. The others were nowhere near him as he turned the corner, blue lightsaber already out and blazing with a laughable sense of righteousness and justice. He was quick to discard this thought as he prepared for battle, letting it settle in the back of his mind with his stray observations of Rebels seeking aid from one another. He would enjoy putting this light-loving fool in his place. It was always a pleasure to snuff another Jedi out of existence and send them to join their counterparts, an immense gathering of misguided souls that were no longer relevant or needed in the galaxy. The sense of enjoyment was only heightened by the fact that he would once again be destroying an outside party that dared to try to take away his creation. Once he got rid of this interfering pest, there would be plenty of time for him to correct whatever imperfections were ailing the boy without having to worry about the constant threat of pathetic rescue attempts fueled by misplaced affection. His victory would be assured.

His thoughts etched a cruel smirk on his face as he ignited his own crimson blade to meet the Jedi's first blow head on. The humming and crashing of dueling lightsabers gave him a sense of thrill that no other form of battle would ever come close to matching. These weapons were some of the finest tools of destruction to ever be crafted in the galaxy. He looked forward to prying another one from the cold, dead hands of his enemy and adding it to his collection. The irony of giving this particular blade to the boy to use would certainly be humorous.

He almost laughed out loud at the idea. But no, it was best to hold in such pointless outburst during battle. He put his energy towards taunting his opponent instead. "Your actions are foolish, Jedi. What did you think you would accomplish by coming here?"

The Jedi rudely ignored his words, opting to try to sweep his legs out from under him instead. The cheap tactic sent a flash of annoyance through him. Could the Jedi not fight to his death with dignity?

His confident smirk fell into a frown as he growled, putting more strength behind each of his blows to force the Jedi to give ground. He would not allow the Jedi to ignore him. If the man wanted to challenge him and his hold over the boy, then he would play by his rules. He held the power here, over both the Rebels and the boy. There was no room for another being's force of will in this situation. He was in control.

However, the Jedi still refused to acknowledge him, even as he was forced back down towards the cross section of corridors where he had first appeared. "Do you think that you can save him?" The Inquisitor hissed as he continued his vicious attacks, never once leaving an opening for the Jedi to strike on the offensive. "Did you think that you could simply grab the boy and flee, that you wouldn't be hunted or attacked from the inside by the very crew member that you've risked so much to protect, and that you would all live happily ever after?"

He struck harshly, forcing the Jedi's back against a wall as he slowly pressed their blades closer and closer to the man's throat. "Well," he mused, "it's far too late for that. The boy and his power belong to the Empire. Your interference with destiny has gone on long enough." He allowed a ferocious grin, or perhaps a snarl, stretch across his features. Once this man was gone, there would be no more threats to dispute his claim on his weapon. It was finally time to end this.

The sudden sensation of weightlessness came as a surprise, as did the harsh impact with a wall quite far away from where he had been moments before that followed quickly after. He struggled to remain focused as the Jedi observed him from down the corridor, dimly aware of the fact that the man seemed to have thrown something in his direction. Then the man had the audacity to turn his back on him and walk away with the off-hand remark of "I don't have time for this."

As a small explosive device cheerfully beeped its countdown beside him, he cursed his decision to spare the Jedi during their previous encounter. This man was turning out to be much more trouble than he had ever imagined.

Tucked out of sight around a corner, Renar Druce pondered over the information that he had just obtained. Quite honestly, he wasn't surprised by this turn of events. There had been too many holes in the intel that the Specters had provided his crew. Not enough to be obvious, but just enough to raise a few eyebrows when put under scrutiny. He had spent a good amount of time dissecting exactly what these other rebels wanted from him and his crew and had come to the conclusion that they were being lied to. He wasn't that put off by this conclusion. You couldn't really trust anyone these days.

What had caught him slightly off guard was the nature of the lie. It was clever of them to separate this dreaded weapon and their missing crew member into two different entities in conversations. After all, who would jump to the conclusion that a living being, a mere child, could become a weapon of mass destruction? It would seem absurd, unless you had seen evidence of something like that before. Which, unfortunately for the Ghost crew, he had. The same evidence that the Jedi was now cradling against his chest.

The kid had definitely grown, but he was easily identifiable as the child that those doctors had carried onto his ship all those years ago. The same child that Emi had sacrificed her life for. The same child that had nearly destroyed his ship mid-flight with nothing more than a thought and a wave of his hand. The same child that he had thought to be dead long ago.

He would have done the deed himself, but the Bridgers had insisted that he let them handle the situation. He had assumed that they had some reason for not letting him blow the kid's brains out right then and there. Maybe he could only be killed using certain methods? He knew several creatures that would fit that description. He hadn't ever entertained the thought that they would let him live.

A child with that much power and with obvious ties to the Empire was too dangerous to just be let loose. What had they been thinking? Had they thought that they could hide him away? There was no way that the Imperials would let someone like him out of their sight without any hard feelings. They would have been relentlessly hunted, and most likely killed for their actions. He could safely assume that the Bridgers were no longer among the living if the kid was now part of an active Rebel cell fighting against the Empire. He doubted that they would have ever let him near such a group in fear of drawing attention to themselves.

Well, whatever they had been trying to do, it had obviously failed. The kid was right back where he started, and in the hands of his supposed "creator" no less. Despite the Jedi's apparent belief in the kid's free will and strength, Druce couldn't see how this could end in anything but a bloodbath. Sure, the kid might be able to fight off whatever control this Inquisitor had over him, but there was still the chance that he couldn't. That wasn't something he was willing, or able, to risk. The Specters might be attached to him, but he had no problem with the idea of killing the kid before he could leave this ship.

This was for the greater good of the galaxy. He was sure that, with time, they would be able to get over it.

You don't mess with a pissed off Kanan. He ain't got time for your shit.