Star Wars: Rebels: Hearts of Warriors

Disclaimer: Star Wars Rebels and all Star Wars characters and Lore are not my property, as they are all owned by Lucasfilm and the Walt Disney Company.

A/N: At last, we've reached the final chapter. Much is about to be decided for our favorite young Rebels. I won't delay this any further, you have all waited long enough. Enjoy!

Warning: This chapter contains some strong but limited depictions of suggestive content. I've decided it's indeed nothing to warrant a rating change after consulting with a couple of my peers, but still please be advised if you are sensitive to such content.

Chapter 8: We Are One Together

Within the burial chamber inside the tomb of Freedon Nadd, the absence of any physical presence betrayed the echoes of disembodied voices calling out to one another, both rattling the usually still waters of the reflecting pool. The first a remnant of the deceased buried not far away, and the second a presence reaching out from far, far beyond.

"No! Damn you! I almost had him! His mind was mine!"

"You will not harm this one. I won't allow it, former King of Onderon."

Several more minutes had passed in the dark corridor elsewhere in the tomb before Mand'alor spoke up again.

"We should move back to the entrance of this place, soon. As soon as the storm clears, we'll be returning to the compound," he wasn't that surprised when the young Rebels immediately objected with surprised and distrustful looks, from the young Jedi and young Mandalorian respectively. Ezra retorted, first. He sounded surprised and panicked. He was looking up at the ceiling with his head still cradled gently in his girlfriend's lap.

"Wait! I'm not leaving, yet! I haven't finished the Aka'Manda!"

"Ezra…" Sabine sighed and he looked up at her in confusion, "Mand'alor here never intended for you to complete the trial. He knows it's too dangerous for you, or me," to his credit, the Mandalorian leader didn't even flinch when Sabine shot him a death glare. "He sent you out here knowing your attempt would get you killed."

"What?! No!" Ezra's eyes shot open, and he raised his head to look at Mand'alor with a disbelieving stare. Still, fear and doubt began to creep their way back into his mind as he waited for an explanation. He had his confirmation the second the chrome-clad warlord didn't deny it. He answered with his typical nonchalant disposition.

"She's correct, to an extent, boy. I sent you on this trial without expecting you to complete it, because you were never supposed to. However, there's more to it than this simple deception," he paused and waited for Ezra to absorb the revelation, and as predicted, it wasn't well-received.

"What? You're telling me this was all a ruse?" disbelief gave way to scandalized outrage, and Ezra narrowed his wide eyes as he continued, "You sent me out here to die on purpose!" the young Jedi pointed an accusatory finger, and Sabine held her own glare at the ruler of her people. Not unexpectedly, said ruler was unfazed.

"Now, before you try standing up and likely reopen that wound of yours, perhaps you'll at least let me finish spelling this out for you? Consider the predicament the two of you are in; I'm your best bet for survival, young rebels," Mand'alor reasoned, and for her own part, Sabine allowed her expression to soften.

"He's not wrong, Ezra, as much as I hate to admit it," she huffed while looking back down sympathetically at her boyfriend, who sighed and nodded after a moment of thought.

"Fine. Explain," Ezra ground out with an icy tone. Mand'alor seemed to not notice the attitude, or more likely, he simply did not care.

"I've fought against and alongside Jedi more than once, and I believe at this point I have a fair amount of knowledge as to how their kind operate. You may be the first example I've met face to face in years, but something about you seemed, different. I wanted to determine whether or not that was a good or bad different," pausing for a moment to look over to Sabine, he continued, "The same could be said of you too in a way, girl."

That, she didn't expect.

"What do you mean?" she arched a brow, and spoke with wariness and uncertainty.

"You were born into the worst betrayal that ever infected our civilization. Until the fall of the Republic, I spent nearly my entire life fighting and destroying all who called themselves Death Watch. I served under two Mand'alors who led the charge against the betrayers. I speak of Clans Viszla, Kyrze, Wren, all of the dar'manda who dared to pervert our customs and the memory of our ancestors with their barbarism, and that was before being anointed to the mantle of leadership myself," taking a step forward as he spoke seriously and grimly, the young Rebels resisted the urge to recoil as he elaborated, "Your mother and father served that betrayal willingly. Why should I have ever presumed one of their offspring would think and act differently, especially considering what a devoted follower your brother is to the two of them? And yet, after observing your mannerisms alongside this boy in person, I realized for the first time in a good while, things weren't as clear cut as I'd seen before. You were different, just like this boy you profess to love," as he finished, the supreme ruler of the Mandalorian people shifted his gaze back to Ezra, who seemed confused at this choice of words. Sabine was the first to respond, though.

"What are you saying, sir?" she inquired cautiously, if a bit hopeful. Taking a deep breath, Mand'alor confessed the truth of this elaborate ruse to his not-so-willing guests, speaking clearly and decisively. He was finally certain, after all this, that he had the answers he required.

"Neither of you conducted yourself as a True Mandalorian would, but you still carried yourselves with honor to an extent I had not anticipated you would. The blatant hypocrisy of the Jedi, and the self-serving corruption of Death Watch, was not overtly present in either of you. It was your apparent devotion to one another, however, that intrigued me the most. I couldn't help but wonder, just how far would you go for the other? Would you risk life and limb, face down and defy every single thing fate and myself would throw against you? Right here, right now, I have all the answers I've required of you two."

"Are- are you kriffing me?!" Sabine retorted after several moments of stunned silence. "You nearly got Ezra killed on purpose just to prove a point?!" she accused, outraged and seething. Ezra remained more relaxed, if a bit unnerved, but wasn't surprised at the absence of sympathy or regret from Mand'alor. However, the young Jedi also still couldn't sense any malice or deception, just as before. So, he knew the chrome-clad warlord's motives were sincere, even if not straightforward in the least.

"Sabine, wait," he summoned her attention in a low voice just above a whisper, drawing her focus back to him as he looked up at her. "He has no negative intent, and he's telling us the truth. I can tell. Maybe… maybe what he's saying is worth considering."

"You wouldn't be this enraged and irrational if you didn't care for the boy, young Wren," the Mandalorian ruler interjected. "I say your reaction and his commitment to this task reiterate the relevance of my decision." Another few moments of uncomfortable silence passed. Then a minute, and then another. Finally, the young Mandalorian seemed to relax her nerves at least somewhat as the reality of the situation sunk in.

"You could have just asked us how we normally acted, and how we felt about one another," Sabine stated with exhaustion, finally letting the emotional wear and tear slip in her tone. Ezra delicately reached up to cup her cheek gently, and she just as softly closed a hand around his as she looked down at him, a warm expression taking hold of her features to match his own.

"Words are trivial. It is only through action the truth is laid bare for all to see," Mand'alor explained resolutely. It was Ezra who spoke up next, peering directly into the armored man's visor.

"So, does this mean we… passed your judgement?"

"I suppose it does," was the immediate reply, "I apologize for the deception, but it was necessary. If it makes you feel better, I took precautions to ensure neither of you would die in this place, in the off-chance something went wrong," and at this, Ezra's disbelieving glare returned.

"Off-chance? I nearly lost my foot!"

"In my culture, scars are something to be proud of, boy," the leader of Mandalore was droll and unapologetic.

"Well in my culture, we- ah!" the young Jedi was startled as the woman he loved pulled him into a warm embrace, and it was then he noticed she had tears of relief silently trailing down her face. Shifting focus completely, he gently wiped them away while wrapping his cybernetic arm around her in turn, pulling her in tighter.

One Year, Eleven Months Prior:

As yet another torrential rainstorm continued to rage outside the Temple of Sacrifice on Yavin 4, in the dim light of the chamber they'd taken up shelter in, Ezra watched with a gentle, warm smile as he observed his girlfriend sleeping peacefully beside him, using their supply packs for pillows. It had been nearly three hours since the storm arrived outside. If he were to be honest with himself, he was growing a bit concerned. Midday storms on the jungle moon of Yavin typically lasted half an hour to an hour or so at most. This could be a freak event, but something in the back of his mind was telling Ezra this wasn't a natural weather phenomenon.

Already having spent a considerable amount of time trying and failing to get his comm unit to break through the interference of the storm, Ezra decided to try one more time higher up inside the temple. Rising to his feet, and after looking back at his most cherished companion one more time, he headed further into the ancient stone structure. Several minutes soon doubled, and the young Jedi increasingly grew frustrated at his inability to locate even a single set of stairs. After rounding a corner, he saw and opening to an exterior courtyard at the end of another hallway. At first, nothing to spare a second glance yet, but Ezra quickly noticed that somehow, no rain was pelting the courtyard even though it was clear further beyond outside the storm was still raging in full blast.

It looked like it was the site of outdoor ceremony, with a large, circular stone dais taking up the majority of the area. His curiosity piqued, and that strange sense in the back of his mind telling him he was supposed to walk forward, Ezra headed out into the courtyard and stepped up onto the dais, looking around in all directions as he did so. He never saw the lightning flash coming as he arrived at the very center of the dais. The bolt missed him, but he was out cold as he fell down.

In his subconscious mind's eye, on the dais, he saw a man, wearing a black and red mask that appeared to be of Mandalorian design. He wore a matching set of robes and boots with a black, hooded cloak, and bronzium chest armor and gauntlets. He held two lightsabers, one in each hand. In the right, red. In the left, purple. Both hilts gleamed with silver and bronzium.

The man wasn't alone. He was surrounded by foes, all fighting him to the death. Among them were two, male and female, Mandalorian commandos, and a dark-haired female Jedi with a blue, double-bladed lightsaber. There were also three Sith: a blonde woman and a man, the latter in deep red armor with shoulder spikes and a mask, both wielding single-hilts. The third Sith wore a crimson red cloak and had a dark black and silver skull-like helmet with matching shoulder plates. This one was sporting a double-bladed saber as well, a red blade like his fellow Dark Side champions.

The battle was intense, fierce, vicious, even. The man stood his ground in the center of the dais, holding off his attackers one by one. Ezra could see, though, slowly but surely his defenses were being worn down. Force telekinesis and lightning blasted from multiple hands, lightsaber blades clashed, and blasters and rockets fired. Then, with another crackle of natural lightning from overhead, all was still once more.

When he opened his eyes, the first thing Ezra noticed was that it had stopped raining, at last. He was laying on his side at the center of the dais, and the hilt of the lightsaber the masked and cloaked combatant held in their left hand was directly in front of him. Confused, yet curious, Ezra pulled himself up and retrieved the ancient lightsaber. The moment he rose to his feet, and activated the purple blade, the sun shined through the dark clouds above, the first ray of light illuminating the courtyard, the dais, and Ezra as he held the blade aloft.

Not sure what to make of this turn of events, he deactivated the lightsaber and took it with him as he abruptly turned and headed back inside the temple. The moment he rounded the corner he'd passed minutes earlier, the faint, transparent image of the same masked and cloaked man manifested back under the light on the dais. He mused a single phrase aloud before fading away.

"You're on your way, Ezra Bridger."

Present Day:

Opening his eyes slowly while groaning, Ezra found himself on one of the narrow beds in the infirmary back at the compound. Pulling the thin sheet up with his free arm, as the other had an IV in it, he noticed his wounded calve had been properly treated and tightly bandaged. Painkillers and numbing agents had rendered feeling in that area next to non-existent. However, he had no trouble recognizing the feelings of relief and jubilance at seeing his girlfriend walk over and sit on the edge of the bed while facing him. He immediately noticed she had been given back her armor, along with her blasters holstered on her hips once more.

"Hey there, finally awake I see," she beamed at him meaningfully, and he couldn't help but smile at her. It was purely reflexive at this point.

"Hey, how long was I out?" he asked as he rubbed his eyes.

"About twelve hours. You should be good to walk again in a couple of days," she told him earnestly, to which he smirked.

"I think I can cut that time in half if I use that Force healing technique Kanan showed me," the smirk faded as he noticed what she had on her finger. She wasn't even trying to hide it. "Uh, Sabine, where'd you get that ring?" he inquired just above a whisper. She proudly displayed it for him, grinning cheekily as she did so, thoroughly enjoying his baffled, flushed face.

"Oh, I found it the other day. It's a gift from someone very close to me, you know," she was snarky in her reply, and his smirk returned.

"So… I take it that's a yes?" his eyes peered into hers as she scooted closer. Deep blues were confident and hopeful, just like the amber ones in front of them.

"Duh," she laughed softly, and he chuckled in response. They wore matching grins before finally, their lips met in a sweet, tender kiss.

"I'll be needing that back for a bit," he whispered as they separated, "Just so I can give it to you properly," he added for clarification. She rolled her eyes with a headshake.

"Sure thing, but you should know you'll have to ask my father for permission first. It's a sign of respect to my clan," she explained with a level of seriousness. His grin merely returned, wider than before.

"Already done! I- uh, asked him before we left the base weeks ago," he chuckled sheepishly, to which she snorted.

"Of course you did, you dork," she retorted good-naturedly. He knew just what to say to that.

"I'm your dork," now it was his turn to snark at her.

"Yes, you are," she admitted with a smile. She began leaning in again, but the telltale sound of footsteps caused her to recoil instead. Sure enough, Mand'alor had arrived.

"Ah, good, you're awake at last. I suppose a welcome back is in order," he regarded the young Jedi with a nod."

"Thank you, Mand'alor. Um, how did I get here, exactly?" the thought suddenly occurred to Ezra. The Mandalorian ruler answered simply with a shrug.

"I carried you here over my shoulder, after you fell asleep that is."

"Wait, you what?" Ezra squeaked, incredulous at the thought.

"It was no trouble. I've throttled men twice your build," Mand'alor stated as a matter of fact, to which Ezra grumbled and looked off to the side. Sabine recaptured his attention a moment later.

"Anyway, I've been in contact with Hera. The base had to be evacuated after the Death Star was finally destroyed. She got out safely with Dawn and the Princess, and Kanan rejoined them at the fleet," her expression dropped slightly before she continued, "Both General Dodonna and Captain Rex stayed behind, and there's no word on whether or not they survived." The young Mandalorian remained silent as Ezra's own expression fell. The young Jedi nodded slowly. Unwelcome news, but nothing they could do anything about at the moment. The supreme ruler of the Mandalorian people decided to offer his two cents before shifting gears.

"War is never without loss and sacrifice, but the destruction of the Death Star is without doubt the greatest loss the Imperials have suffered in this conflict of yours, young rebels. Your greatest victory, so far," he nodded at them reassuringly as they both looked up to him. "We've been listening in on Imperial comm chatter; the Galaxy is reacting the exact opposite way Palpatine and his craven lapdog Tarkin thought they would after they blew up Alderaan. Your Rebellion is seeing a surge in willing support including outright defections from the Imperial ranks the likes of which have never been seen before. You may have lost your base and some brothers and sisters in arms, but your losses aren't in vain. That much is abundantly clear to us sons and daughters of Mandalore." Both Ezra and Sabine felt their expressions perk up slightly.

"So I take it this means you'll continue to support our cause?" the young man from Lothal asked, hopeful.

"For now, yes," the veteran of Clan Flong affirmed immediately.

"Well, all's well that ends well, I suppose," Sabine remarked in relief. Suddenly, the air turned serious as Mand'alor stepped around the end of the bed, towering over her. She almost forgot to breathe for a moment.

"Moving on, now that your gear has been returned to you, I do believe something more is in order. Bring it forward!"

At that moment, the young Rebels looked over as Spar entered the infirmary with the rectangular, plasteel case. The old clone walked right over to Sabine as Mand'alor stepped back, and offered the case for her to take. She and Ezra both wore confused expressions, but she did as silently indicated, and after the hatch lid flew open, she gasped. The ancient vibrosword from before, nearly identical to the one used by Mand'alor, was now in her possession. It was the first time Sabine and her boyfriend laid eyes upon it. A polished, cortosis-weaved, alloy blade with a black hilt and silver pommel. She looked up at Spar and then over to Mand'alor, who nodded again in assurance.

"It's yours. Consider it a gift. Our ancestors prized these Sith Tremor Swords as valuable trophies during the Jedi Civil War and the Shadow War that followed. This one was claimed by a Neo-Crusader of Clan Wren who served under Mand'alor the Preserver," he was bemused as she silently returned his nod, obviously trying to contain her enthusiasm, "My forces procured it during the siege on our homeworld twenty years ago. I believe it's fitting the first member of your clan to prove themselves worthy since then take it. Granted it's certainly no Darksaber, but the blade will hold strong against any and all lightsabers, so use it well."

"Thank you, Mand'alor, your excellency! I am honored," she bowed her head in respect.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I wish to speak with young Bridger privately for a couple minutes," Mand'alor informed her abruptly, and Ezra arched a brow in curiosity.

"Oh, okay," she nodded, confused but accepting, and Kuervo showed her out a moment later. Ezra's unspoken question was answered for him when Mand'alor revealed he had his lightsaber clasped on the back of his utility belt. He held it out freely for the young Jedi to reclaim, and Ezra took it while nodding in gratitude.

"Not to disparage your own handiwork, Jedi, but it's fairly obvious you didn't craft this weapon. Might I inquire as to where you acquired it?"

"Huh? Oh! I- uh, found it," Ezra admitted, not expecting Mand'alor's interest in the deactivated hilt.

"At the ruins of an ancient Massassi temple on Yavin 4, without even knowing it was there or even existed, correct?" the armored veteran asked further, and Ezra slowly nodded, his curiosity returning.

"Yes… how did you know?" the young man was wary of where this conversation was headed.

"His name may be spoken of only by the few and only in whispers, but my people above all others should remember the name 'Revan' quite well. I know from research, and your confirmation of my suspicions just now; that's his blade. Or at least, it was, a long time ago." Mand'alor was deathly serious, his voice a mixture of heavy assurance and a bit of what could only be described as wonder. Ezra was quick to call such a conclusion into question.

"What the-? Who's Revan? You're probably mistaken, no offense intended."

"None taken, as I am not mistaken. Revan was the single greatest military leader the Jedi Order and the Old Republic ever possessed. He was tremendously strong in your heretic Force, and had the combat skills to challenge even our strongest warriors. When my ancestors nearly had Coruscant in their blaster sights, he rallied any Jedi with the sense to follow him, and turned the pitiful mess of the Republic military into a threat strong enough to beat them back to our homeworld and beyond," he paused to gauge Ezra's reaction before finishing, "In the end, he and his followers proved to be the only outsiders to ever surpass us in the art of total war, completely and utterly without question. He's been dead for millennia, his legacy fading into legend, and yet here you are, with the lightsaber it was said only one of his line could ever hope to recover." As the information sunk in, Ezra glanced back down at the lightsaber, bringing his cybernetic hand over to grasp it as well.

"As interesting as that bit of history sounds," he acknowledged, sincerely, "I still think you're mistaken. There's no way…"

"Do you not think it strange, that countless individuals, Jedi, Sith, archaeologists, treasure hunters, and even fellow Mandalorians sought what you hold in your hands for millennia, and you alone found it without even trying to?" Ezra looked back down at the ancient, ornate lightsaber hilt he held in front of his person, under all of his fingers. Even assuming this was what Mand'alor professed it was, the young Rebel remained skeptical.

"I'm fairly certain if I was related to some ancient paragon of the Force, I'd remember my parents telling me. I've been training with my master for years, and never even heard of 'Revan.'"

"His name is not one spoken casually, boy. I don't know if you're of his line or not, but there is no mistaking it: that is one of the lightsabers he crafted with his own two hands, and you are now the first to wield it since he last fought. Make of that what you will, but it's nothing to scoff at either way," the supreme ruler of the Mandalorian Clans pressed with an air of equal sincerity and seriousness. Perhaps it was the way Mand'alor conveyed this, or a nagging feeling in the back of his mind that this was somehow the real deal, but Ezra nodded in acceptance, his brows furrowed in a matching expression.

"I know the road ahead won't be without challenge, but I'm determined to face it whatever happens," he stated resolutely. Mand'alor seemed amused, yet in agreement.

"It's like another Jedi, or former one, I once knew said, 'nothing worth doing is ever easy.'" A few moments of thought passed before Ezra remembered where he heard somethings similar, before.

"Wait, are you talking about Ahsoka?!" Ezra's eyes were wide in surprise and Mand'alor nodded with a light chuckle from underneath his helmet.

"As I said, I've fought alongside your kind in the past, young Jedi."

The following day, after it was apparent Ezra had indeed sped up his healing process courtesy of his connection to and knowledge of the Force, Mand'alor summoned Ezra and Sabine to the command hall. The young Jedi needed only a simple crutch to traverse the distance. Kuervo, Spar, and several supercommandos and warriors were present as well.

"Sabine Wren, Ezra Bridger, step forward," Mand'alor waited for them to do as instructed, and they did so quickly. Sabine had to nudge Ezra to remind him to kneel down beside her. Even as an outsider, it was custom. He continued with a bemused smirk after watching him roll his eyes at her irritated expression, "You two arrived here as a wayward spawn of dar'manda and an ignorant outsider, two of the lowest examples of what a person can be in our territory. I told you that you both would face trials to test your worth, your merit as warriors, whether or not you would be fit to ever be accepted among us and as possible future life-mates," he paused again and easily noticed their faces slightly heat up at that last remark as they glanced at one another awkwardly yet sweetly. "Through trials you expected and others you did not, you two have proven to me there is more to both of you than meets the eye. You both have the hearts of warriors, and that means you've earned a place at our side, both as individuals and as a union."

"We are honored, Mand'alor, your excellency," Sabine bowed her head in gracious reverence. Ezra copied the gesture a moment later.

"What she said- ow!" that earned him another elbow to the side, though it was more in jest than painful.

"You may rise," Mand'alor instructed further, and they did so. "Sabine Wren, you are officially inducted as a True Mandalorian, and retain your position as my personal ambassador to the Rebellion. Ezra Bridger, henceforth you shall be known as Manda'vod*, meaning 'Brother of Mandalore'. You may not be of our lineage, but you've earned the right to walk amongst us as a proven ally. Tomorrow, we'll begin the return trip to Kadelbe. Your ship will be handed off to you on the way back in deep space."

After giving another set of respectful bows, the young Jedi turned to face the young Mandalorian. She was turning to leave when she felt him grab her arm, and when she saw him holding up the ring, her breath hitched as she turned to face him. Sabine felt her heart skip a couple beats as he knelt down again, this time on one knee, and offered the right to her in his cupped hands. His smile held so much warmth and adoration for her, and she returned the gesture while feeling her eyes watering.

"Sabine Wren, will you be my wife?"

"Yes, Ezra Bridger, yes I will."

Her eyes glimmered with fresh tears and she choked back a happy sob as he gently took her hand in his, and carefully slid the ring back onto her finger. Two of the supercommandos present took a step forward in the makings of an apparent protest, but a single raised hand from Mand'alor halted them. He sternly kept them back, though the young couple seemed blissfully unaware of the scene playing out beside them.

"Enough. They've earned this right," the supreme ruler of the Mandalorians then turned and gestured for them to follow as he walked past them, "Let's give them some privacy. Everyone, dismissed." The Mandalorians dispersed and the duo silently followed, but one of them spoke up the moment they were out of earshot.

"Mand'alor, sir, with all due respect, you're seriously okay with that?" incredulous disbelief and a hint of disgust dripped with their voice.

"I said nothing about being okay with this, but what I feel about it is irrelevant. Those two proved themselves to me as I required, and what they decide with my favor is their choice."

Heedless to the world around her, Sabine wasted no time pulling Ezra back up onto his feet and smothering his lips with her own. Her meek chuckle was muffed in his mouth as she felt him wipe her tears away with his thumbs once more, and she wrapped her arms tight around him.

Later that night, the young couple turned in at the spare room in the officer's quarters. The young Jedi couldn't help but smile with closed eyes while resting his head on his pillow. All in all, it had been an exhausting few days, yet with rewarding results. Quite rewarding results. As far as Ezra was concerned, it was worth it. Sleep had nearly claimed him when he heard the rustling of bed sheets and the slight squeak of worn, metal springs. Opening his eyes and sitting up, he flipped the lamp beside him on, and his eyes went wide. His nose filled with her familiar fragrance as he looked up, seeing his fiancé standing over him, clad in only a pair of form-fitting black night shorts and a loose, grey tank top; her typical sleeping wear in warmer environments. His eyes briefly darted to the glimmering, bronzium ring snugly wrapped around her finger. What really caught his attention though was the intense, smoldering glare permeating her amber eyes as they locked onto his deep blues.

"Sabine?" he whispered, not sure what was happening. He didn't need to wonder for long.

Without a word, she surged forward, climbing onto his cot and moving her legs over to straddle him. Her hands gently pushed him back down onto his blankets, and her lips met his with a frenzy that snapped his senses fully awake. Reflexively, his arms wrapped tightly around her trim form, his hands pulling her down onto him. In response she deepened their kiss, sliding her tongue into his mouth, moaning from deep within her throat when she felt his tongue begin to duel hers. He slid his hands down her back and firmly grasped her firm rear, groping it reflexively. She moaned into his mouth and he shuddered in response. Euphoric shivers surged through them, and only when the need for air became too great did they separate just enough to breathe, their heated gasps ghosting over each other's lips. Their eyes resumed their own lock as they breathed, and Ezra allowed a gulp to escape him at what he saw; passion. He felt it, too.

"Sabine, wait," he faintly attempted a protest as he pulled air back into his lungs, "W-we shouldn't! I mean, not that I don't want to, but I didn't bring any-"

"Shut up," she interrupted against his lips, immediately before kissing him again.

The young Jedi thought about trying another protest even as he felt his arousal grow under her own, but when she pulled back to peel her top off and over her head, all coherent thought that remained left him instantly. For now, on this night alone in each other's arms, all that mattered to them was one another, alone. That night, under the bright light of the other moons of Onderon, they truly became one.

Across the stars back on "The Smuggler's Moon" of Nar Shaddaa, in the industrial sector just outside the power plants stood the formal gathering expanse known as Meridian Hall. Originally a conference center for business both legal and otherwise, the structure built into one of the hundreds of high rises that dotted the surface of the city-moon fell into the hands of gang and eventually cult activity, finally becoming one of the prime meeting locations of the Great Dragon Society. This enigmatic order also, with more discretion, operated a hidden base further in the skyscraper behind and around the perimeter of the place.

In one of the back rooms on the second floor of Meridian Hall, a hooded figure in a bone mask, carved from the skull of an adolescent krayt dragon, stood before a holotable addressing a live, encrypted holocall from an unseen source. It was unseen courtesy of a masking image projected in the form of the Society's insignia, the skull of a mature krayt dragon with three horns and lined with half-crescents.

The hooded figure wore a deep crimson cloak along with a black sash and matching cuffs, boots, and cut-off point around the thighs that left the black pants freedom of movement. Silver-painted durasteel gauntlets, shinguards, and chestplate acted as body armor. Golden epaulets signified his high rank as one of the two co-leaders in the Society, and the mask carved from a young dragon skull was patterned in pitch black, painted line work.

"So long as there is a Jedi left alive in the Galaxy who is of his line, the Society will find and destroy them, I promise you and our exalted one true master, sir," the masked man stated resolutely. The mechanically-disguised voice on the other line immediately replied.

"No, our mutual superior, the Great Dragon as you call him, has made his decision. Find this descendant of the Prodigal Knight and observe them, watch their movements and record their progress, but nothing more. For now, this specimen is to be permitted to live."

"As the Great Dragon wills, so it shall be done!" the leading cultist affirmed instantly.

"For now, I suggest you return to that side project of yours. No doubt the most favored assassin of the Prodigal Knight has at least something of value regarding this matter in its memory core," the mysterious caller instructed simply.

Indeed, for further inside the complex built behind Meridian Hall, down inside a sealed vault within the technological laboratory, analysis droids were hard at work using scanning tools and computer readouts to decode the heavy layers of encryption blocking access to the cranial unit of HK-47, recovered from the wreckage of the Infinite Reformer on Evocar, formerly known as Hutta.

Elsewhere, on the edge of the known Galaxy, the wind howled upon the blasted surface of a barren, desolate world of dust, rock, and warped ruins. Across a deep ravine lined in one location by fallen, split sections of a deteriorated bridge, a lone, abandoned, block-shaped grey structure stood in silence. The windowless building seemed to be on the verge of collapsing from millennia of neglect. The single entry point, isolated by the fallen bridge that once spanned the ravine, was sealed tight by four rusting blast doors. Yet, as if being carried with winds, a faint and haunting, disembodied scream pierced the dead air all around this cursed place.

A/N:

Mando'a Translation:

Manda'vod: "Brother/Sister of Mandalore", an honorary title given to an outsider who has proven themselves worthy as a warrior in the eyes of high-ranking Mandalorian leaders. Essentially the bearer is recognized as a lifetime ally of the Mandalorian Clans and vice versa. The Jedi Exile was another example of one such individual to be recognized as Manda'vod.

Well, there you have it ladies & gentlemen. The war goes on, and both Ezra and Sabine have proven themselves to the loyalists of Mand'alor the Vindicator, earning the Rebellion his favor for the conflict ahead. Still, the threat of the Galactic Empire continues unabated, and the Great Dragon Society enters the stage as a new group to contend with.

Just who is this enigmatic society? What are their goals? Just how deep does their influence run? More will be revealed in the next installment in this series, "Star Wars: Rebels: World At War". The culmination of the Ryloth campaign nears as Hera & Kanan return to aid Cham's resistance while the Imperials dispatch their own backup. As the Rebellion and the Empire clash on the Twi'lek homeworld, mysterious forces plot and work just out of sight. Ezra & Sabine begin to unravel this conspiracy alongside a familiar duo of smugglers.

Another thank you to Wikked Grin for his work as my beta, as well as Trap3r and the entire community of authors I have joined here in the Rebels fandom. Together, we make our ideas into creations.

Once again, a sincerest thank you to each and every one of you for your support be it by reviewing, following, favoring, or simply reading. You make this happen as much as I do, and for that I'm ever so grateful.

I'll be sure to keep you all posted on Chapter 1 of the next story, of which I have officially begun. Farewell for now, and may the Force be with us all. ;)

Update: Chapter 1 of "World At War" is now up!