Chapter Text
~Sabine's POV~
After the Battle of Endor, I stayed on Lothal. I couldn't make myself leave, not when every street, every ridge of the plains, still echoed with Ezra's presence. I took up residence in his old watchtower—our lookout, our safe place, the spot where he planned, dreamed, and watched over the planet he loved. Where he and I spent most of our teen years. It felt right. It felt like the closest thing to having him still here.
Since the Liberation of Lothal, nothing has been the same for me. The people are rebuilding, trying to build a new life after the Empire's rain, but I move through it all like a ghost. Ezra is somewhere out in the Unknown Regions, thrust into a fate only he would be brave—or reckless—enough to accept. And my best friend... he's out there alone. Every night I look up at the stars, wondering if he's doing the same. Wondering if he even can.
And Mandalore... My home. My heart. What was left of it was stripped away during the Purge. They didn't just destroy our plant—they erased our culture, cracked open our soil, and scattered the bones of my people into dust. My family... gone. The warrior clans who shaped me... gone. Even the air feels heavy with absence when I think about it, like the galaxy itself still mourns what was taken.
So I stay on Lothal. I protect the planet and the people Ezra cared about, because it's the only thing that still makes sense. The only thing that makes the silence bearable. This watchtower has become my refuge, my reminder, and my home. But as long as Ezra is out there—lost, fighting, surviving—I won't give up. I'll safeguard what mattered to him until he finds his way home... If he ever does.
The attack we all anticipated never came. The once-invincible Empire had begun to fracture. What remained of its might was splintered and leaderless. The small Rebellion we once clung to like a spark in a storm had become something far greater—bolder, brighter, a force that refused to be extinguished. And with the decisive victory at the Battle of Endor, the Emperor's reign of terror finally came to an end.
After the war, Zeb took Kallus along the secret hyperspace path to the planet Lira San. It was there, standing beneath a sky painted in colors few had ever seen, that Kallus realized he hadn't destroyed the Lasat people after all. They had survived—thrived even—on this new world. And in a way only Zeb could make possible, Kallus was welcomed as one of them. Not forgiven easily... but accepted. Given a chance to live honestly, maybe for the first time in his life.
Hera fought in the Battle of Endor, as did Commander Rex. I heard stories afterward—of Hera's sharp commands piercing through the chaos, her ships weaving through Imperial fire like threads of light, and Rex charging forward with the same stubborn courage he'd always carried. And by then, a new member had joined the crew of the Ghost. Spectre-Seven, Jacen Syndulla. Born to fly, just like his mother. And, well... we all know what his father was like. There was something in Jacen's eyes the first time I met him—a spark, a curiosity that felt achingly familiar. A reminder that even in times of war, life finds a way to keep hope alive.
As for me, I used to think Ezra was counting on me to protect Lothal—the planet and the people he cared for so much. I thought that was the final promise he had left me: to stand guard over a world he freed with everything he had. And I tried. For years, I tried. I stayed in his old watchtower, watching the sun rise over the same fields he once defended. I walked the streets he saved, heard the laughter of children who would never know the Empire as we did, and I told myself that this was enough. This was the legacy he intended.
But one day, I realized there was more to it. That my purpose wasn't to stay rooted in the past, clinging to memories and ghosts. Ezra didn't leave so I could watch over what he loved—he left so I could learn to move forward, to choose courage over fear, action over waiting. Protecting Lothal was never the end of his story... or mine.
Because Ezra's out there somewhere. I can feel it in the Force, in the quiet moments between breaths, in the way the galaxy still seems to shift around an absence shaped like him. And it's time. Time to stop waiting. Time to stop guarding a world that no longer needs me as its protector.
It's time to bring him home.
And whatever lies between us now—unknown regions, lost paths, or enemies we haven't yet faced—I'll find him. I owe him that. Not just because he saved us, but because he believed in me long before I believed in myself.
This is where my next journey begins.