The morning after the big fight, Ezra stood across the street from the Imperial Security Bureau, keeping his eyes on the building’s main entrance. From where he was standing, he couldn’t help overhearing the voice of the HoloNet News reporter, broadcast from a speaker built into the cart of a nearby food vendor.

“Last night,” the reporter said, “an illegal sporting event at Monad Outpost on Lothal might have ended in civilian casualties if not for the courageous actions of Bossk the Trandoshan, a prominent member of the Bounty Hunters Guild. Bossk had been stalking a fugitive on Lothal when he became aware of an underworld crime syndicate’s scheme to lure gamblers from across the galaxy to Monad Outpost. In other news…”

Ezra stopped listening to the broadcast when he saw Bossk step out of the security building. Bossk was still limping, but only slightly. He walked over to Ezra and said, “Hey, shorty. What brings you here?”

“We had a deal, Mr. Bossk,” Ezra said. “Remember? The strongbox?”

“Oh, that,” Bossk said. “Sure, I remember. You’re probably as eager to get that strongbox as I am to leave this planet. Come on, walk me to my ship.”

They began walking across the concourse, heading for the landing pad where Bossk had left Hound’s Tooth. Ezra said, “Your name was on the HoloNet News. The Empire is making you out to sound like a real hero. They called you ‘courageous.’”

Bossk made a hacking noise, chuckling. “I kind of insisted that they call me that. After everything Jenkes put me through, I deserve some good publicity from the Empire. Also, they appreciated the fact that I only fired my mortar gun in self-defense, and that I used stun charges when I shot at the troopers.”

“I noticed the news didn’t mention Jenkes.”

Bossk shrugged. “No surprise there. The Empire never generates bad publicity about itself.”

“So, what happened to Jenkes?” Ezra said. “Is he going to prison?”

“Let’s just say you’ll never hear of him again. Ever. I got that guarantee from two Imperial officers, Commandant Aresko and Taskmaster Grint.”

“And you trusted them?”

“After I explained everything Jenkes did, including killing Ferpil, the Imperials decided to pay me for all my hard work on Lothal. I only came here to get Shifty Takkaro but wound up making quite a profit.”

They arrived at the landing pad. Bossk said, “Wait here.” Ezra stood at the edge of the pad while Bossk entered his ship. Less than a minute later, Bossk returned, carrying a small metal box. “Here you go, shorty. It’s all yours.”

Ezra took the metal box and opened it. The box contained three small credit chips. Ezra examined the chips. “These…these are worth just seventy-five credits.”

“And they’re all yours.”

“Seventy-five credits,” Ezra repeated. “That’s it?”

“You expected more?”

“You…you tricked me!”

“Let’s backtrack, shorty. I said that if you helped me, I’d give you all the money in my strongbox. Did I not hold up my end of the bargain?”

“That wasn’t any bargain,” Ezra said through clenched teeth. “That was a swindle!”

Bossk winced. “It’s not like we had a written contract or anything.”

“I saved your life! I…I helped you get into the posting office! I…You…You still owe me fifteen credits from the posting office!”

“Right, I forgot,” Bossk said. He reached into a pocket, pulled out a credit chip, and handed it to Ezra. “See, that’s not so bad. Now you have ninety credits.”

Ezra scowled. “Lucky me.”

“I’d give you more if I could, just as a favor, but I’m short on hard currency. The Empire prefers to pay bounty hunters by transfer register.”

Two stormtroopers approached Bossk and Ezra. The stormtroopers walked on either side of a long plastoid box that rested on a repulsorlift cart. The troopers brought the cart to a stop in front of Bossk, and one trooper said, “For you. From Commandant Aresko.”

The troopers turned and walked away, leaving the cart and long box.

Ezra looked at the box on the cart and said, “Short on hard currency, huh? So, tell me, what’s inside that box?”

Bossk’s mouth twisted into an ugly smile, and then he answered, “Jenkes.”

“Oh,” Ezra said.

“So long, shorty,” Bossk said. “It’s been fun.” He shoved the floating cart toward his ship’s boarding hatch.

Ezra stowed the small metal strongbox in his backpack. He turned away from the landing pad and started making his way for the exit. He had no desire to hang around the spaceport or watch Bossk’s ship lift off. He just wanted to go home.

Ezra plodded across the plains, heading for the abandoned tower. It wasn’t until he cleared a rise and could see the tower’s silhouette on the horizon that he remembered that he’d left his jump bike in the city. He decided to recover it later.

He heard a high-pitched noise from somewhere overhead, and instantly recognized the distinct sound of an Imperial TIE fighter. As the noise grew louder, he determined it was approaching from behind him. He stopped and turned, swinging his gaze up at the sky. He quickly spotted the TIE fighter, moving fast after another ship, a mid-sized diamond-shaped freighter.

The freighter zoomed overhead, and the TIE stayed on its tail. The TIE opened fire on the freighter, and Ezra winced as laserfire struck the freighter’s shields. He doubted that the freighter could evade the nimble TIE, so he was extremely surprised when the freighter ascended rapidly and looped back so it was directly behind the TIE. The freighter opened fire, blasting the unshielded TIE’s cockpit. A moment later, the freighter peeled off and ascended into the clouds.

Ezra shifted his gaze back to the TIE, which was trailing fire as it angled down over the plains. The TIE barely cleared a distant hill before it appeared to vanish over the high grass.

Ezra’s eyes widened as he heard the TIE crash. Without any thought of his own safety, he bolted across the ground, running toward the dark smoke that billowed up from beyond the hill.

He was breathing hard when he finally crested the hill. The TIE had crashed in the middle of a wide field, and the smoke was rising from the fighter’s shattered cockpit. Ezra glanced around and noted that not a single structure or vehicle was visible. He smiled.

He raced down the hill and onto the field. Reaching the TIE, he scrambled up onto the side of the spherical cockpit, keeping his face and hands away from the smoke. He swung himself toward the cracked canopy and saw the black-helmeted pilot still strapped into his seat. Ezra shouted, “Mister!”

The pilot shuddered.

Ezra said, “Hey, you okay? You alive?”

“Get your hands off my craft!” the pilot snapped, his voice filtered through his helmet’s speaker. “This fighter is property of the Empire!”

Ezra smiled ruefully, then muttered, “Guess that’s a yes.” He shifted his hands on the cockpit’s laser-scorched hull, which was almost too hot to touch, and noticed the cockpit was filling up with smoke.

The pilot shifted in his seat and hit an emergency switch to open the canopy. The canopy popped open, but only by a few millimeters. Ezra realized the canopy’s opening mechanisms had jammed.

The pilot began coughing. Ezra grabbed hold of the lip of the cockpit and swung his body up. He landed just behind the pilot and the partially raised canopy. The pilot struggled against his seat as he tried to turn his helmeted head to look up at Ezra through the smoke. The pilot said, “I told you to get off this ship!”

Ezra stuck his fingers into the gap between the canopy and cockpit. “Not much of a ship anymore,” he said. “Besides, I’m just trying to open her up—”

The canopy snapped open and smoke poured out from the cockpit. The pilot coughed as he removed his helmet. Able to turn his head more freely, he looked up at Ezra, and for a moment, Ezra thought the pilot’s expression looked grateful. But then the pilot’s face hardened. Ezra said, “Hey, don’t say thank you or anything.”

The pilot sneered. “Thank you? I’m an Officer of the Imperial Navy. I didn’t need your help.”

Ezra grinned. “Course not.”

The pilot began to rise, but Ezra pushed down on his shoulder and said, “Wait! Your sleeve’s caught on the flight recorder.”

“It is?”

“Let me just unhook it for you,” Ezra said as he extended a hand behind the back of the pilot’s seat. But his fingers never touched the cockpit’s flight recorder, and instead he grabbed a transceiver calibration plug, which he quickly stuffed into his backpack.

The pilot said, “What was that?”

Ignoring the question, Ezra said, “So, why were you chasing that cargo ship? Were they smugglers?”

Making another effort to rise, the pilot said, “That’s confidential infor—”

“Whoa, there, sir,” Ezra said as he pushed the pilot back down again. “Bit of metal caught on your, um, posterior.” Leaning deeper into the cockpit, he added, “Wouldn’t want an Officer of the Imperial Navy to split his pants.”

“No, I—”

“That just wouldn’t be dignified. Hold still, now.” Ezra reached behind the pilot’s seat again. “Almost got it.…There!” He plucked a diagnostic uplink port switch, shoved it into his backpack, and pushed himself out from the cockpit. “Now remember, sir. No thank-yous.”

The pilot, clutching his helmet, began to rise from his seat. Still positioned above him, Ezra said, “Here, I’ll take that.” He reached down and took the helmet, allowing the pilot to use both hands to pull himself out of the cockpit. “You didn’t need my help, and besides…I didn’t come to help.”

Ezra moved fast. He placed both feet on top of the pilot’s bare head, and then kicked off, launching himself away from the TIE fighter and taking the helmet with him. He somersaulted down and hit the ground running. “Just came to score a little tech for the black market, you Loth-Rat!” he shouted back to the dumbfounded pilot. With the helmet tucked under one arm, he sprinted across the field, heading for the hill that overlooked the area.

The pilot recovered fast. He flipped on the TIE’s cannons and activated his targeting screen. Ezra was already scrambling up the hill as the pilot opened fire.

Reacting instantly to the sound of the blast, Ezra flipped sideways, dropping the helmet in the process. Laserfire exploded into the hill behind him. He rolled and came up standing with his energy slingshot raised at the TIE. But before he could let off a single stun-ball, the pilot fired again.

Ezra leaped high into the air, jumping over the laserfire, and the power of the blast hurled his body across the hill. He hit the ground and rapidly released two stun-balls, sending them straight at the TIE’s fuselage. The stun-balls struck the fuselage without any effect.

Ezra let off a third stun-ball that traveled in a high arc toward the TIE. The stun-ball ricocheted off the back of the open canopy and slammed into the back of the pilot’s head, instantly dazing him. The pilot collapsed facedown over his controls.

Dust was still settling around Ezra as he lowered his slingshot. “Well, that was fun,” he said. He looked around and muttered, “Now, where…”

He spotted the black helmet he’d dropped, went over to it, and picked it up. Inspecting it, he declared, “This helmet is property of Ezra Bridger.” He shrugged. “Or it is now, anyway.” He placed the helmet over his head. It was much too large for him. He pulled it off and held it at his side. Turning back to face the crashed TIE fighter, he raised his free hand to salute the unconscious pilot and said, “Sir, thank you, sir!”

Ezra headed home, eager to add the helmet to his collection. But as he walked through the grassy plains of Lothal, he thought about this place he called home. People were always coming and going. Moreena had left with her family. Bossk came and went, and was probably off to start another dangerous adventure. Ezra wondered what else was ahead for him.

Then his mind went back to the diamond-shaped freighter that had not only evaded but brought down the TIE fighter. He wondered if he would ever find out who owned and operated the freighter, or what they had done to attract the TIE pilot’s attention.

Although he’d seen many starships come and go over the years, he had a feeling he’d see that freighter again.