“Tell me, Jedi,” the Inquisitor drawled, addressing the panting man strapped to the interrogation table, “how long do you think you can protect your precious Padawan, hm? It’s only a matter of time before we find him”—he carefully smoothed back a stray tendril of gray hair that had come loose from the man’s ponytail—“and end this little lineage of yours once and for all.”
The man opened his eyes—bright blue, blazing with defiance—and gave the Inquisitor his best scowl. “You can try all you want,” he uttered, “but you’ll fail, just like you failed thirty-five years ago.”
Smirking, the Inquisitor leveled his glowing red lightsaber in front of Jedi Master Ezra Bridger’s nose. “Whether or not the First Order ultimately fails is no concern of mine; my job—indeed, my only command from Lord Ren—is to find and eradicate all Jedi, namely you… and the son you share with your former Master, Kanan Jarrus.”
