It has come to my attention that I edited and released this fanfic in a way that users are not used to, so I'm breaking up the first half of this story into 3 chapters for your benefit.

(Sorry for the wonky formatting; the doc editor on here kept undoing things and I didn't catch everything).

Is it a kind of shadow,
Reaching into the night,
Wandering over the hills unseen,
Or is it a dream?

-0-

Hera, the blessed sweetheart that she was, took Dura and Ezra out to Takodana (though not without trying to recruit them onto her crew for several hours; Dura was honoured but she couldn't put Hera at risk like that) and spared them a few credits. Taking care of a child was more expensive than Dura remembered it being.

Ezra, dressed up in much cleaner clothes and shoes without holes in them, stayed close to her as she went towards the only familiar place on this planet: Kanata's castle. She had only explained the barest details of her plan to him, which was find a ship to work on and get as far away from the Empire as they could. He had asked about finding his parents' friends who he hadn't seen in weeks (Tseebo wa a name that popped up frequently) and finding out answers, to which she had assured him that they needed to be safe before searching.

It wasn't a lie; she had every intention of finding the Bridgers and reuniting them with their son. It just wasn't her first priority: Ezra's safety was, and she let him know how important that was to her.

She led him into the fortress, grip tightening on his hand as well as on her blades. This place was still the grimey, scummy pit she had visited seven years ago (and she was sure she even recognised a few faces). She made her way towards the bar, reluctantly reaching out in the Force to the one person who could answer her multiplying questions.

Maz was tending the bar, paying them no attention until Dura came up behind her and cleared her throat. The older woman didn't jump, only turned around on her stool and zoom in her gaze with her goggles.

"Ah, you've come back. I had a feeling you would." Maz said, smiling despite Dura's grim look. She slipped off her barstool and walked them over to a table in the back of the room. "You must have a very important reason for returning."

"I didn't have much of a choice." Dura put an arm around Ezra's shoulders, guiding him over to where Maz was climbing up to sit. Confusion clouded him and she ruffled his hair, sending as much reassurance to him as she could. Maz noticed.

"Of course. You can't show off your new padawan to just anybody." Dura glanced around the room quickly and then glared at Maz. She wasn't impressed by the daggers in her eyes.

"My days as a Master are over, Maz."

"Maybe, but what else are you going to do with the boy?" Maz sat back in her seat, judging. "Find a family in Wild Space to give him to?"

"Of course not!" Dura winced at her volume and shrunk back, looking over Ezra sitting between them and fiddling with a leather coaster, trying to act like he wasn't listening in. "His parents were taken by the Empire for broadcasting rebellious activity, and I'm looking for them."

"The Bridger Transmissions? I can't help you there."

"That's not why I wanted to talk to you." Dura breathed, reigning herself in. Maz motioned for her to continue and gave Ezra an old gambling dice. "You told me that I still had a place, despite what was meant to be. I… I think I found it."

"And will you make it yours?" Maz asked. Dura nodded slowly; she still had doubts (so many doubts and fears holding her back) but she was certain of this. "Then why not teach him? He'll need to know in the future."

"I know, but I cannot fail another. All I know is what caused our downfall, and look where it's gotten us." This was precisely why Caleb was meant to live; a padawan with hardly any training, surviving the Jedi and turning it into something far purer than Yoda or Mace could have achieved. Only someone like him could teach a new generation. Only him…

Caleb should have been Ezra's Master.

"Things have changed, and so have you, child. Can you really see yourself as the same Jedi who sat on the Council?" Ezra's eyes widened and he sat up, looking between the women. Dura didn't answer, just lowered her gaze and sighed through her nose.

She was a different person, just as she had planned to be. She had buried Depa deep within herself; never letting go, because she was an old fool stuck in her ways. Maz believed that she could still pass something onto Ezra, but she couldn't accept it.

"Think about it, child. I have nothing else to offer." Maz swiped a meiloorun fruit off a passing tray and gave it to Ezra. He turned it over in his hands, paying no heed to Maz leaving or Dura sinking lower in her chair.

She had gotten her answers, but she still felt unsatisfied. Not to mention that Maz had spilled the bucket on her past right in front of Ezra, which was not a talk she was prepared to give any time soon. She'd have to if she wanted him to have faith in her, as well as keep the information quiet.

She glanced out the window, admiring the open glistening lake and green forest growing beyond it. Being on Ryloth for so long, seeing such life gave her a whole new appreciation for it. The quiet environment was such a contrast to the hustle and bustle of the caves and catacombs twisting underneath Lessu.

"Ezra, let's go for a walk." Dura stood up and held her hand out to Ezra, who had bitten into the fruit and gotten juices all over himself. He wiped his hand down his front and took her hand. She rolled her eyes; just as she had gotten him clean.

The rocky lakeside was vacant of any spying eyes or ears, allowing Dura to focus on the soft waves lapping at their feet and the breeze brushing her face, gentle as a mother's touch. She led Ezra closer to the edge of the forest where a large, flat boulder faced the water.

"Ezra, do you know who the Jedi were?" She asked, lifting him up to sit on the boulder and then bending down to reach his eye level.

He swallowed the last bits of the meiloorun fruit and made himself comfortable. "Yeah! Mom an' Dad said that they protected people from bad guys, not like the Emperor says."

"We did try." Dura smiled sadly. "I was one, but not anymore because the Emperor wants me dead."

"Like my parents?"

Dura snapped back to Ezra, who had his head bowed and hands curled in his lap, shoulders shaking slightly. She put a hand on his back, rubbing his slowly and feeling the dry sobs racking his body. She cursed herself and moved around to face him properly. He had been oddly quiet since Hera had left, but she took that as him being nervous about the pirates and smugglers everywhere.

She never imagined how much he missed his family (she and her sister never knew theirs; Dura was never given a chance to miss Sar when she died). She only missed Caleb and Mace these days, but that wasn't the same.

"Ezra, it's alright…"

He shook his head and sniffed, wiping his face aggressively. "I-It's not! M-My parents are g-g-gone! Ts-Tseebo left me!"

His voice cracked into a whine and he hiccuped as Dura knelt in front of him, rubbing his shoulders and surrounding him in the Force. She pursed her lips, running through every idea she had of what to say to him.

"Emotion, yet peace. Ignorance, yet knowledge. Passion, yet serenity. Chaos, yet harmony. Death, yet the Force." She recited in a steady voice, continuing as Ezra's hiccups subsided, leaving only a runny nose and watery eyes.

She waited a moment to let him take it in, still rubbing his shoulders. He eventually looked back up at her, questions evident in his expression.

"That's the old Jedi Code; the way we were instructed to live. It is alright to be upset, to not know something, to be attached; there will always be chaos in life, as well as Death, but there is harmony and there is the Force."

Ezra blinked some tears away as he listened. "So, t-they're really gone?"

"That is something we don't know," Dura answered, taking his small hands in her's and stroking her thumbs over his knuckles. "But that is not forever; we will seek the answers. You are upset too, and that doesn't last forever either…"

Dura's mind brought her back to Kenobi's warning message sent out all those years ago. She hadn't taken the words to heart back then, but now she could put them to use.

"Someone wise once said that we will each be challenged, but we must persevere and have hope. We will find out what happened to your parents, Ezra, and no matter what happens, I'll be with you the whole way."

He was her responsibility now and she wouldn't fail him, like she had to many others before. She still had a way to go before she could fully trust in the Force again, but she wouldn't stifle Ezra's connection to it. She would teach him as much as she could, as far from the fallen traditions as possible, like Caleb should have. Until Kenobi's new hope came to save them, she would do what she must to keep Ezra alive.

Ezra sniffed and nodded, curling his hands beneath her's. "I still miss them…"

"I know. The Empire took away people I loved too." She moved closer as Ezra rested his head on her shoulder, too tired to vent out his frustrations anymore. She lifted him up onto her hip (he was too big to carry effectively, but it was too soon to take him back to the castle) and continued down the lakeside, then into the thick forest itself.

She talked to him, about the living Force, the Code, lightsaber combat; anything she could think of that wouldn't rile up her memories of her padawan. She had a partner in grieving, and she couldn't help him heal if her wounds were still fresh. They would persevere together.

0XX0

Dura and Ezra ended up resting near a stream in the woods by the time the sun was setting. She had gone through every story and youngling teaching she could remember while he listened intently. Now they were sitting on the grass in silence, watching the tiny signs of life all around them.

Ezra sighed heavily and Dura looked over at him. "What's wrong, Ezra?"

"I'm still upset." He answered, stretching his legs out and glaring at the flowing stream.

"How so?" She leaned back on her hands, still watching him. He kicked his feet up and pouted; the Force was almost growling around him.

"Like… Like I wanna scream and hit a stormtrooper. Hit 'em hard."

He pounded the ground next to him a few times and grumbled when the grass blades didn't break. Dura put a hand on his shoulder.

"We don't want to hurt anybody, Ezra."

He looked at her from the edge of his eye. "Not even troopers?"

"They hurt themselves so much they do our job for us." She smiled but he didn't return it. She squeezed his shoulder and bumped him to sit up straight. "We shouldn't seek to hurt others, or we'll allow our emotions to rule us. They shouldn't be bottled up either, but we must rule over them to truly know peace."

"Emotion, yet peace." Ezra muttered under his breath, loud enough for her to hear. He was a quick learner. "How do you rule 'em when they're so… strong?"

"Good question. I'll be honest with you," Dura stood up and stretched out her arms over her head, cracking a few joints. "I struggled with my emotions when the Empire took my loved ones. I still am, in a few ways."

Ezra followed her motion but got a sore shoulder instead. He watched her move around the small clearing and take out her lightsabers, including the weird separated one, sitting them upright in opposite corners, and then igniting them. The trees lit up blue and green, blending into a sharp teal that made him smile.

"You said you wanted to hit a 'trooper," He nodded. "so hit the tree instead."

Ezra glanced over at the large trunk towering behind him, peering up at the tallest branches miles high above his head. He looked back to Dura, who was lifting a large stick from the bushes and swinging it around.

"But… won't it hurt?"

"You or the tree?" She looked over her shoulder at him, raising an eyebrow. He rolled his shoulders and thinned his lips.

"Both?"

"That's to be expected. The tree is a living being, flowing with the Force." She went over to him and put her hand on his shoulder again. "But it's been here for thousands and thousands of years. It's survived much worse than you, Ezra, and it'll continue to because life always moves on."

"What about me?" He asked, looking over his chubby fingers with worry.

"I might have something for that." She reached into her jacket with her free hand, pulling out ripped strips of fabric she had salvaged from an old headscarf. Ezra held out his hands and she wrapped a long strip over each palm, tying them up tightly so they wouldn't slip.

She stepped back from him and he punched the air a few times before going anywhere near the tree. He tapped it with his knuckles and again, a bit harder.

Dura moved away again and swung her stick in the air like a fiery baton, closing her eyes and breathing through the Force. She dug deep into herself, dragging out the blood and tears she gave to seal up her boiling anger years ago. It felt almost numb, like there was nothing else to give, but she knew better. That anger tore away at her insides and made her a hypocrite to Ezra, who deserved so much better than her.

She remembered every battle, every cut and every roar her fury had taken control of. The slavers, the Empire, the ignorant, the sorrow… Every memory of them spurned her and she felt the wrath surface, stronger than ever.

In one swift motion, Dura slammed the stick against a tree, sending splinters in all directions but not breaking it. She did it again, again and again, until she threw it onto a large rock and broke it into hundreds of pieces. She heaved her shoulders with each breath and dropped the splintered branch, fingers blistered and cut from the tight grip.

Ezra had moved from punching the tree, kicking the bushes, to throwing small rocks with all his strength at the water. Several of them broke in half upon contact and he kept going until he ran out of things he could lift. He kicked the water, splashing himself, and yelled out. He then collapsed back onto the grass, suddenly feeling numb in his arms and legs.

"How do you feel now?" Dura asked, lying down beside him and tidying her hair.

"A lil' better." Ezra answered, closing his eyes and smiling for the first time in days. Dura copied him, and stared up at the tree canopies. The sky had turned dark during their lashings, and the moonless night gave way to brighter stars peeking through each gap.

"It's progress."

0XX0

The emergency call came two days later while Dura was hunting around Maz's castle for a reliable job (no one wanted to take a seven year old onboard, kriffing pirates) and Ezra was occupying himself at the games tables by charming everyone there. Double checking that he was safe, Dura took the call to a private corner of the castle.

Cham Syndulla's image appeared in the hologram, worse for wear and completely disheveled.

"Cham-?"

"Dura, I don't have much time. You are in critical danger."

"What? Cham, what happened? How did you reach me?" She hadn't given him a direct line to her, in case an Imperial tried to track her through him. Only Hera had any link to them…

Cham ran a hand over his head and lekku, taking a deep breath to collect himself. He explained, yes; Hera gave him the link. He wouldn't have gone to such lengths if this wasn't such an emergency. He then went on to describe the previous day; how the Emperor had indeed come to Ryloth in secret (not even his informant could warn them in time) with a Jedi hunter.

Darth Vader.

And he was searching for Depa Billaba.

Dura had never heard of a Darth by the name of Vader before, but she could only speculate that he had risen up during the initial Purges, working for the Emperor to rid the galaxy of any Jedi remnants. How they had discovered that she was alive and had been on Ryloth was unknown to her. She hadn't given any obvious signs, and very few of the Twi'Leks under Cham's command knew about her past.

Had the Force given Vader a map to her?

She couldn't bear to think of what would become of her if that was the case.

Now time was of the essence. Dura ended the call, grabbed her travel bags and pulled Ezra away from the gathering crowd, much to his dismay. She quickly explained the situation to him and he thankfully hopped right onto the plan.

Only one ship was leaving Takodana, and the captain would only allow Dura and her 'grandson' on board if she was willing to help with a spice drop-off on Phorsa Gedd. It was an Imperial controlled planet, run by business lords who rules the desert factories; a place she didn't want to get caught in. She agreed to it (she was desperate, and hopefully the Empire wouldn't expect her to head inwards to the Mid Rim, least of all one of their controlled planets).

She and Ezra were given a spare cot and a warm meal each for their stay, but no privacy, which left little for them to discuss Force training or combat survival (except when Dura walked in on the captain teaching Ezra how to hold and fire a blaster; she hadn't been happy, the pilot hadn't been happy. It was a giant mess).

Dura wasn't sure how much time passed as she and Ezra hopped from ship to ship, planet to planet. Paranoia and dread crept up on her regularly, and every pit stop became a new source of anxiety for her. She gave Ezra as much training as she could in the small moments they were alone, though he seemed to be picking up more blaster skills with every ship crew he met. He assured her that it gave him an extra edge (not like he was going to get his own lightsaber any time soon) and that gave her a bit of peace.

She called Hera up whenever possible as well, to either get some information about the Empire's galactic movements (and how to avoid them), or to distract herself when the worries got too much. The young Twi'lek, no matter what, always spared a moment even at the worst moments (talking with Ezra made them worth it).

Hera, one night, made a stray comment about her recent rebel activity. Dura knew she had gotten in contact with a 'Fulcrum' informant, and now she knew that said informant was sending her to Gorse and its mining moon Cynda to uncover the intentions of an Imperial inspection coming up. Dura didn't like the idea of Hera taking on such a big mission on her own, to which she was subjected to another employment offer.

"I know you mean well, dear, but going right into the belly of the Imperial beast is the worst thing I can do for Ezra." She told Hera, who agreed but remained down-spirited at another rejection. Dura knew Hera wanted the best for them (as well as a well-trained fighter backing her up against the Empire) but she had the foresight to know they had to go separate ways.

Hera could take care of herself perfectly fine. Dura knew she didn't have to worry over her.

0XX0

Dura woke up to Ezra falling out of his cot and yelping loudly. She got up, rubbing her tired eyes and shooed away the curious crew members to help Ezra up onto his feet. He was gripping his hair and shaking violently, whining and mumbling incoherently.

Dura held him up, taking him away from the sleeping quarters and out into the ship's empty corridors where no one could hear them. Slumber still held onto her, and she yawned it out, rubbing down Ezra's back as his shaking calmed.

"I-I felt it…" He said quietly, leaning into her touch. "S-She was th-there one parsec, a-and t-then not!"

"Who, Ezra?" She asked, brushing his hair out of his eyes (he'd need it cut or tied up soon enough). He took a few deep breaths and held onto her hand, trying not to let tears fall from his eyes.

"H-Hera."

Dura felt her heart stop and shatter, a million thoughts rushing through her head. Her hand covered her mouth, denying every possibility of Hera's fate. She felt for her in the Force, reaching out as far as she could but getting nothing.

"G-Go to the cockpit, Ezra. We'll contact her." She ordered, pulling him off her arm. He was about to protest but she nudged him in the right direction and went off back to the cots herself.

She paid no mind to the other sleeping crew members, rummaging through her bag and pulling out her comm link to Hera's ship, The Ghost. The crew complained at the disturbance, so she switched the comm on and rushed out to the cockpit.

She sent a few voice messages through the link, getting no response each time. Her heart went up into her throat, all kinds of fear taking hold of her so tight she thought she would suffocate before reaching Ezra.

The eight year old was standing in front of the dashboard, looking worse for wear than she felt, and panicking in the midst of it all. Dura took over, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and never letting go. The ship's communicator came to life, making noise that was bound to bring everybody to them to complain, and Dura put in Hera's details, then sent the call.

An error message came up after the first beep: Connection disabled. No response from recipient.

They only found out a week later (after many nightmares and attempts to get answers from Cham) that Hera had been killed on her Gorse mission and The Ghost taken by the Empire for scrap.

They left the ship and crew half way through the job, much to the captain's chagrin, and found a place to stay in a small town on Hermos. It wasn't anything fancy - just a kitchen and set of beds that would hold them up until they were ready to face the world again.

Ezra withdrew into himself, only talking when spoken to and even then it was short sentences. He slept through good days; ranted and glared through the bad. Dura had already spilled her tears and cursed Fulcrum's name, pouring her attention solely on Ezra. He had been the one to feel her passing (she had no shortage of guilt for not having felt the disturbance in the Force) and it was haunting him. She knew the feeling all too well, but for someone so young… He didn't deserve it.

She guessed it had been almost two weeks before Ezra stopped the glaring and venting, opting to stare at the ceiling from his bed and refuse his nutrition block meals. Dura eventually made a spot next to him, resting her head against the concrete wall.

"Ezra?" He blinked. "We'll get our own ship. No more job hopping or hiding anymore."

He grunted and nodded, pulling his knees up to rest his chin on them. She deflated and put her arm around his slim childish shoulders, inching closer to him.

"Do you remember what I told you on Takodana?" She asked, pulling her legs up and curling them underneath her.

"I'm dealing with it." Was all he said, curling up more. She massaged across his back, resisting the urge to roll her head.

"I know," She lied, playing into his game. She was too tired to argue with the boy over something so trivial. "But I told you about holding your emotions in. I don't want to see you hurt."

"Too late." Ezra grumbled, voice breaking into a high pitch. He cleared his throat and bit his lip, burying his head into his lap.

"We can talk-"

"What's there to talk about?" He said angrily, lifting his head to glare at her. "Hera's gone for good! Just like everyone else I ever cared about! I-I had a real connection with her, y'know? Now it's gone a-and it feels horrible…"

His head dropped and he gritted his teeth. Dura watched him, reaching out in the Force. Despite his shell, he responded in kind and she soothed his worries. I'm right here, I understand, I miss her too.

"It's a cold feeling isn't it?" She asked. "You reach out for what isn't there and the Force gives you nothing but barren ice. What you used to rely on and take comfort in is suddenly not there, and you're at a loss on how to deal with it. The loneliness is the worst."

He looked at her again, eyebrows raised but understanding. She ran her hand over his head, smiling softly.

"Before the Empire took over, I was a Jedi Master with a young padawan. He was so much like you and Hera. His name was Caleb Dume…"

0XX0

Getting a ship was not the easiest of tasks, especially between running from stormtroopers and asking around for information on Imperial prisons. Dura knew that Hera's contacts were a better source of such information, but she didn't trust herself not to seek out Fulcrum (she could only imagine how Cham was right now). Ezra would also never agree to taking anything from them; she doubted she would be able to stop him from taking revenge; a step closer to the Dark Side.

She also knew that the Empire were the only ones at fault for Hera's untimely death, but shifting the blame wasn't as easy said than done. She told Ezra of her guilt over Caleb's death, hoping he would understand that Fulcrum probably felt the same way (at least she hoped they did; how good can a heartless rebel be against the Emperor?). Still, they couldn't ignore how big a part the informant played, so Dura stayed away, letting Ezra go at his own pace. There was no point in rushing the process for the sake of peace.

To help him in any way she could, Dura gave Ezra a few jobs to be responsible for. Nothing too difficult for a child his age, but challenging enough that completing them would give him a strong sense of self-worth and direction; he needed to know he was important, and only he could persuade himself to feel that.

Among those jobs were to spy on pirates (he was good as playing the innocent child look); staying on guard for stormtroopers or others with a 'dangerous' aura, and to find a ship for them to buy. She gave him a list of requirements for the perfect ship: it had to be small (not too small, just cosy), have hyperspace travelling capabilities, good shielding, strong weapons, a living space for them (or room for such modifications at a low price), and most importantly, be affordable.

Ezra took the work eagerly, setting up his own weekly schedule in order to balance Force training and ship browsing, impressing Dura with how seriously he took it. Not even a decade old and already organising himself like an adult. She wouldn't let him grow up too fast though; childhood only came once in a lifetime.

His rising maturity came handy time and time again, as stormtroopers seemed to follow them everywhere, no matter how far they fled or how random their locations were. The Empire had set up wanted posters and warrants for her alias (but none for Ezra, thank Force), which led to Dura to suspect every pirate and smuggler they had ever encountered. Had one of Maz's customers from all those years ago recognised her as Depa Billaba? It couldn't have been any of Cham's officers; only his most trusted people knew about her past. They wouldn't turn their backs on him so easily.

In the times they faced troopers and their blasters, Ezra grounded Dura from the flashbacks and horror, holding onto her in the Force (and sometimes physically as well) and they escaped - sometimes with barely their lives. When the presence of Darth Vader or another like him (the Pau'an always lurked in her visions) came close enough for Ezra to sense, they ran across systems with no trail. Yet it kept happening.

Whenever they could, Dura and Ezra practiced lightsaber combat and defense. She taught him the basics of the six forms (Vapaad would come much later), then focused on Forms III and II, regaling him with tales of the Jedi heroes from the Order's beginnings right down to the Clone Wars.

The topic of a blaster came up after Dura made Ezra get rid of one he had swiped from a fallen trooper during a skirmish on Garel. She had to admit that he was better with a blaster than a vibro or electric sword, but she was still reluctant. He was far too young, they were so dangerous, she couldn't teach him. There were many reasons.

She only gave in when one was offered to him by a cargo ship's mechanic after a job well done. She had searched the crew through the Force before taking on the work, and there was no malicious intent in any of them that she could detect. She doubted any of them even recognised her from the posters (this job had actually been a peaceful one, as they had jumped around Imperial blockades and not gotten any trouble beyond a spilled bowl of soup in the cockpit).

With Ezra now in possession of a weapon that he could actually make use of, Dura began thinking of his Gathering trial (and remembering her own that hadn't prepared her for anything but disappointment). Kyber crystals were only available on Ilum, way out in the Unknown Regions with a permanent Imperial blockade denying access to the ice planet. The Temple was probably destroyed in the wake of the Purge, which would make digging for crystals difficult, and possibly meaningless. So, for the time being, she entrusted Caleb's lightsaber to Ezra; he would treasure it as she did.

When he had grown tall enough to reach Dura's shoulder and tie his long hair up by himself, the ship they had been searching for appeared in a shipyard on the south side of Tatooine's equator (she felt nothing but unease on this desert, but the Empire's influence was minimal and no reports of Dura had been issued here, so she put up with it). An elderly couple who had once soared the stars of the Mid Rim were selling their modified cargolift shuttle for just shy of 50,000 credits. It was a steep price, but they weren't going to get anything better for that price.

The Conductor-class short-haul landing craft, designated CX-14, was old, banged up, and in need of a new paint job, but wholly perfect. They finally had their own space, and Ezra rightfully called it Hera's Force. It wasn't the most creative name a twelve year old could come up with but Dura teared up all the same when he told her.

In this ship, they could do whatever they pleased. The notion took some weeks to get used to, but soon enough they were meditating in the cockpit, sparring on the plains of Dantooine, and creating more distance than ever between them and the Empire's killers. Even better, they could now do their own search for the Bridgers.

Not that they hadn't been looking for clues, but with the need for credits and the Empire crawling up their backs, it had taken a backseat for many years. Dura felt terrible for not acting sooner, but Ezra was surprisingly forgiving about it.

"I have hope that we can rescue them," He told her while watching a sunrise in orbit. "but even if it turns out they died… I just need closure. I'll be okay."

Closure.

That was the word. She had never gotten such a luxury, but maybe it wasn't too late for her. She thanked Ezra and told him that he had grown wise beyond his years (he then called her a liar). Ezra would become more powerful than her in the Force one day, as long as she kept him in the Light. The Dark always edged around him, muddying his light into a grey that reminded her somewhat of Maz. Being young still, she worried that he could be swallowed whole too easily should be open himself up, like the padawans the Pau'an led on a death march.

She could only hope that she was up to the task.

0XX0

Dura didn't know quite what to expect when Ezra dragged her into a high street bar one night in the middle of a supply run. He only told her that something important was there, so she obliged. She could trust him to follow his instincts as the Force instructed.

They sat near the bar, hoods pulled up to conceal any details from curious onlookers. There were a couple of Imperial officers sat on the stools, drowning themselves in whatever was popular for the young men and women at the time. Ezra never took his eyes off them, even as their speech spiralled into slurs and babblings.

Dura got a drink for herself, to keep up appearances (she was never a fan of the stuff; too many headaches) and left Ezra to spy on his own. He had been doing it for years, playing the part of the dutiful grandson taking care of his boozing guardian; he didn't need her supervision.

About an hour into it, he nudged her sharply and she sat up, paying attention to the officers.

"I-It's absolute bantha fodder!" A human male exclaimed, slamming his glass onto the bar surface. "Moving ev-everybody 'round 'cause of those kriffin' rebels! I can't go to Garel; I got a life h-here!"

"Shaddup, blaster brains." His female companion swatted his head, shooting back after glass. "Shootin' a rebel is an honour to the galaxy. They're getting so pesky, Tarkin's pulling ships from the Unknown Regions to build blockades."

Ilum.

Dura and Ezra looked to each other, sure that they had heard the same thing. Only Ilum had Imperial guards that far out, and if they were taking ships out, then they had a real shot at getting to the Temple. Ezra gripped Dura's arm and she nodded without a word.

As they got up to leave (playing the drunk grandmother angle to an almost ridiculous degree), the officers kept talking and one thing struck out to Dura.

"A-And that Pau'an Inquis-quisitor guy! What the kriff is his deal sn-sneaking 'round our stations?"

She froze and listened in, feeling her heartbeat more than ever. Ezra pulled at her, trying to get her attention.

"He's hunting down fugitives, you idiot. There's a huge price on that Joti's head."

Dura grabbed Ezra's shoulders and ran out of the bar, holding down her urge to yell and swing out her lightsaber in frustration. An Inquisitor! The Emperor had resurrected the beings of legends and horror just to hunt down the last of the Jedi, plaguing her living days with an unending fear of what tomorrow would bring. They were no Sith Lords, but they were dark enough to bring an entire Order to near-extinction, and now one was closing in on her far too quickly.

She and Ezra got back to their ship and wasted no time jumping into hyperspace, heading to the very edge of chartered space. Ezra attached himself to the controls, giving Dura a chance to meditate in the space behind him.

In her trance, she cleared her mind of all thought, giving the Force free reign to give its guidance. It trickled in, flowing as the river of life and inviting her to travel down one of many branches. She stepped away from physical reality, diving into the Force at full force.

She was on an Imperial base, deep within the bowels and long corridors that led to unknown terrors. She walked down one, following the yells and grunts of a battle. A corner turned and then she was in a large open room with only a walkway to get across, and on it two figures were clashing blades - blue and red.

The dark lord pressing down on his victim was a face Dura had seen too many times: the Pau'an. He smiled with a sadistic glee, speaking in a booming voice as he overpowered the man facing away from Dura. She cried out to him, but the words didn't reach him.

A voice came from behind her and she spun around, dodging a red lightsaber blade just in time. The Pau'an was towering over her, grinning at her the same as he had to the other. She reached for her lightsaber but it wasn't there. The Pau'an's spinning lightsaber went for her again and she jumped out of the way, onto a floor of ice.

The Ilum Temple was crumbled all around her and she scrambled back as the dark being snaked toward her with his double-sided blade threatening to slice off her limbs.

"There is nowhere to run anymore, Jedi." He said, words cutting deeper than any sword. "You and your padawan will fall."

"NO!"

"Dura! Get up!" She snapped her eyes open and her surroundings flooded back to her. She was lying on the cockpit floor, swords and lightsaber thrown in all directions away from her, while Ezra kneeled next to her and helped sit her up.

"How far…?" She asked, gasping for breath and pulling her blades back to their sheath. Ezra let go of her, looking back at the dashboard.

"Still a couple hours, if the coordinates are correct."

"My memory isn't that bad, you smart aleck." Dura shook her head, grabbing the co-pilot's seat to pull herself up onto her feet. "Your journey to your lightsaber isn't going to be an easy one."

"Since when is anything we do easy?"

"It's different this time." Dura sat down in a seat, resting her head back. "The Empire is waiting for us on Ilum."

"What?!" Ezra exclaimed, standing up to attention. "We have to turn back before they get us!"

"No, we keep going." She swung her seat around to face him, the seriousness of the situation engraved in her aged features. "An Inquisitor is waiting to face me at the Temple, and I will take him down, once and for all."

"Are you sure?" Ezra asked quietly, sitting down in the opposite seat and leaning forward on his padded knees. "He could kill you."

She shook her head again. "I didn't live this long just so a wannabe Sith Lord could cut me down. He's been following us long enough, and unless I defeat him, we'll never escape him."

"You can't do it alone-"

"Ezra," She said over him, radiating the aura of the Master she once was. "you must face your trial in the temple, and I must face mine. We knew that running would not forever be an option for us, and now's the time for change."

"I… I don't think I get it." Ezra admitted quietly, turning away from her. She smiled and patted his shoulder.

"We are not Jedi, Ezra, and with this test, you'll become something much more. Today, you start down the path to a new era of the Force."

Ezra looked back to her, taking in her relaxed expression and the smile wrinkling her eyes. He smiled as well, concentrating on the controls. Dura fully believed in him, as a teacher and a friend. He didn't think he needed much more than that.

"Y'know, I like this side of you much better."

"So do I, my young bridger."

0XX0

Coming out of hyperspace and drifting towards Ilum's atmosphere, their suspicions had been confirmed. There was a Star Destroyer in orbit, as well as a few carriers and shuttles, but nothing came after them as they entered the frozen landscape. No one even came on their radio to interrogate them.

The ship was put on autopilot as Dura and Ezra dug out their fur coats and dressed up, ready to face the elements. The gale winds blew stronger than torrents against the ship, but it held steady as it touched upon the ice and snow, only feet away from the rubble that was once the gateway to the sacred Temple.

"He's here." Dura stated, feeling a cold that went far deeper than skin. Ezra swallowed and handed her his temporary lightsaber, connected together for the brawl. "Let's do this."

Ezra nodded and they went into the Temple, seeing only the surface destruction of what used to be a beautiful ice palace. Sunlight streamed in from the hole that used to be the gates, melting everything it touched. The entrance to the caves was still intact, just as Dura remembered them from decades ago.

And it was quiet.

"Go in," Dura instructed, pointing to the entrance. "I'll stay and drag him out of hiding. May the Force be with you."

Ezra hesitated but jogged up the cracked steps, disappearing into the shadows with only his own instincts and his blaster. Dura watched him go, mentally searching for where the Inquisitor would hide and gripping both lightsabers.

"So, we finally meet."

She turned around and there he was, standing by the rubble with that same grin and bloodthirsty glint in his glaring yellow eyes. She exhaled and ignited her lightsabers, numbing out her thumping heart.

"So it seems, Inquisitor. How ignorant of you to come alone." She spat out, but the insult didn't phase him. He came forward, brandishing his unique lightsaber that flared its red blade like a beast outside of its cage.

"You've proved quite the escape artist, Depa Billaba, but your time is up. I'll take great joy in ridding the galaxy of the last Jedi Council member."

Dura made the first move, sprinting towards the Inquisitor and swinging both blades at it. They clashed, saber against saber, but never getting closer than a few inches. His blades began to spin, forcing her to pull back and move away before her head came off.

He rushed towards her, taunting her for everything under the sun; her failure as a student, as a Master, and a Jedi. Her heart ached with every word but she did not respond. The more he talked, the more she faded out his voice. She couldn't lose focus, not now.

She shifted into her favoured Form III stance, deflecting the vicious swings again and again and again, until her blades were trapped and her footing began to slip. He grinned down at her, pressing her down in his shadow.

"You've grown old, Master Billaba. You are not the warrior you once were."

He kept pushing and pushing, backing her up against the wall and coming in close enough that she could feel the hairs on her skin start to burn away. She grunted and used all her strength just to keep him at bay, ignoring the sweat rolling down her forehead and freezing around her eyes.

He was right; she was old, not in her prime, but she was also not the Jedi Knight she had been trained as. She was something more.

She pushed back one more time, forcing him back and called upon the Force. Her lightsabers flashed off and she dropped to the ground, slipping between his legs with a speed reserved for younglings. She skidded to a stop some feet away, spun back around with her hand stretched out, commanding the rubble to pummel him.

He swung wildly to slice every rock that came at him, even as they sped up and made contact. One collided with his shoulder hard enough to send an echoing crack throughout the chamber. Dura slipped into fighting form again, closing her eyes and listening to the hum of her re-ignited lightsabers.

The Inquisitor ran at her again, roaring through the pain and channeling his anger into every strike. Dura blocked and dodged, over and over, until she slipped behind him and struck him across the back.

He held in his yell but she felt it resonate through the Force. His anger and pain was growing, as was his recklessness. He turned around to thrust and she twirled her lightsabers into a protective whirlwind, throwing off each blow like they were nothing. She was one with the Force, and nothing could touch her.

She stayed as close to his back as he spun, trying to reach her, and she switched her green lightsaber off, rolling away as a rock sent him onto his injured back. She opened her eyes and went after him, striking the ground as he adapted, dodged and ignored the little nicks she made against his armour.

Soon enough, he was back on his feet, visibly drained and furious. His lightsaber converted to a single blade and he threw himself into his attack. Dura held up against it, breathing deeper as they moved across the Temple in a few long strokes resembling a violent waltz. Their blades crackled and hissed with every hit, covering up any words they may have passed.

She pushed him back with a shove, sliding him several meters away from him, and took in his damage. His arm, though functioning, was bent in all the wrong ways, and his armour was splintering from the back. He couldn't hold onto his lightsaber with the grip needed for it to spin without flying out of his hands, and she saw her winning shot.

Give me strength, she commanded. The Force flowed through her, stronger than ever, and she smiled. This is how it was meant to be.

They rushed at each other again and met in the middle, Inquisitor swinging his blade. Dura crouched down at the last second and kicked out at his legs with an extra Force push, sending him flying away from his lightsaber. He slammed up against a rock and didn't move, even as she marched closer.

"A Jedi killer you may be," Dura said, pointing her blue blade at his eyes. "but we are more than that. You cannot compare, so you fail and always will."

"Kill me then." He coughed out, glaring at her intensely.

"No." She lifted her free hand up, pulling his lightsaber toward her and holding it above him. She curled her fingers and it crumpled into a deformed shape. She threw it away, looking at the Inquisitor with blank eyes. "I offer you mercy; to leave here and tell your master that you have failed."

Fear filled the killer's eyes as Dura backed away from him, giving ample room to get up and walk. Slowly, he got back up onto his feet, holding onto his shoulder and stared at her.

"I won't give you the pleasure of mercy, Jedi."

He hobbled out of the Temple, over the rubble and into the snowstorm. She watched every step, until he was nothing but white flakes, all the while wondering what kind of monsters Darth Vader and the Emperor were. She couldn't imagine the kind of hope it would take to bring them down for good.

She heard shuffling as she turned her lightsaber off and turned to the cave entrance, where Ezra stood with a glowing crystal in his palm. He looked her over, wide-eyed and she responded with a relieved smile.

He ran over to her, a million questions pouring out but she heard none of them. She clipped her weapons to her belt and leaned against her student, feeling the rush of exhaustion digging down to her bones. Ezra led her away from the carnage of the battle, holding her upright and talking slowly. She just smiled and held him close, glad to have him back.

The beginning was starting to look bright.

Oh man. OH MAN.

It's finally done and I can rest in peace. I was meant to finish this days ago, but editing was cruel and took up a LOT of time (I also had to rewatch some Clone Wars episodes for details, which was tedious), but better late than never, right?

I hope you all enjoyed this! I'll try and get the next chapter out in a few weeks. I can't promise it'll be 20,000 words like this beast, but it'll be just as fun to right.

Be sure to check out related art over on my tumblr art blog, lochcamaenarts, and leave comments, reviews, kudos, favs - whatever!