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Chapter 3
The Long Night Begins
Ezra and Sabine nearly slid down the ladder with how much adrenaline was surging through their systems. They felt vital, crucial to the survival of the rebellion, even when the intelligence they had pilfered from the Imperial Conference could be considered some of the most general facts imaginable:
1. The Empire was building something…
...Since when was the Empire not building something? There was always another Star Destroyer under construction, another command post being erected, another prison established. The Empire was continuously growing, building monuments to it's glorious tyranny and weapons to fiercely spread it's autocratic rule.
2. Some man named Galen Erso was involved and working on Director Krennic's project.
...What fun! Apparently someone named Thrawn was involved as well. Wow! How compelling and unexpected! And don't forget Tarkin! Genius! Some extremely ground-breaking knowledge! Why not consider Darth Vader for the hell of it?! Sarcasm aside, names didn't help much at all. There were thousands of data loggers and Imperial officers, and what good could come out of one name?
3. It was something big.
Since when did the Empire go small?
4. Scarif was a crucial system to the Empire.
So is Coruscant.
But despite the extremely obvious nature of these facts, and the cynicism of the two rebels, together these morsels of stolen knowledge harmonized into a compelling narrative. An unfinished narrative, clearly, but it was something that the two rebels sensed would change the fate of the universe. They reveled in this secret knowledge that they shared, as well as the subtle urgency of getting as far away from that Inquisitor as possible.
"What do you think?" Sabine shouted to Ezra, ignoring a gust of Torun wind as they approached the foot of the ladder.
"The project?"
"Yeah. Some sort of battlestation?"
"Maybe some sensor array? A massive gravity well like the Interdictor?"
"No idea." Sabine announced as she landed on the ground, eyes darting about to try and spot any guards. "Kyber means some serious power, though. Maybe it's not just one structure, but an array of some sort…"
"The did refer to it as some sort of weapon..." Ezra responded as he dropped down with her. "Chormium is used a for Hyperdrives, right? It might be some sort of improved Interdictor cruiser."
Sabine didn't respond as they came in sight of their final challenge - the restricted perimeter. After slowly tip-toeing past the feckless watchman, moving past strange trees towards the dancing crowds, she finally replied.
"Yeah, but Chromium is also fantastic at handling radiation and laser fire, so who knows... who cares? What matters is that we have leads: Scarif seems like a good start, don't you think?"
"I'm partial to Galen Erso, actually."
"Of course you are." Sabine sighed. "Ezra Bridger, always the people person."
"And you're such the… explosives person?"
Sabine chuckled, the tingling nerves making her more open and willing to share emotion. Ezra was so bad at comebacks, but his doggedness and persistence revealed the hidden truth he really didn't care. He knew that she enjoyed the faux antagonism, and she appreciated that willingness to squabble and spar. It was through this war of words that Ezra gave Sabine a chance to pick fights and speak her mind.
Her smile was cut off by Ezra's arm reaching across her shoulders, barring her way. Ezra had frozen up as they had just started to make their way left around the crowd and towards the bridge leading out to the Capital. His eyes was focused right, looking up the steps and towards the massive doors of the Academy.
"What's the matter?" Sabine asked nervously. Ezra didn't respond to Sabine's question, but the doors did, creaking and opening outwards with a noise that somehow stood out despite the cacophony of music and dance. There was nothing but a black void leading into the academy poured out into the open air, it's staleness and chilled stench almost visible as it diffused outwards into the atmosphere, spilling down the steps like condensation gas.
From the pitch, the Inquisitor stalked out, it's modified dual lightsaber unactivated but gripped in its left hand. On each side were two deathtroopers, carrying E-11 rifles and Imperial rangefinders primed. The acolyte of the Sith took a moment to soak in the crowd, it's helmet obscuring its face as it panned about, but Sabine could tell when its eyes rested on them.
"Karabast." Sabine muttered before she felt Ezra's hand wrap around hers and drag her forward. His voice was sharp, distant and driven, and Sabine had to struggle to keep up with his words.
"Spectre 5... I know you're not going to like this but you know this is kinda not up to debate right now but you really have to try and take it with stride alright ok awesome sounds great..."
Sabine nearly screamed in realization that they were going into the maze of partygoers, and responded with her own stream of words, much more colorful than his.
"Nononono Ezra no oh chit you have to be kriffing me. I can't do this sort of-!"
"Can't, or won't?" Ezra laughed out as the noise crashed around them, turning to face her as he pulled her very close, one arm outstretched and another arm around her waist. Before the Mandalorian could push away or break off, he was already spinning, dragging her along for the ride deep into the pack. He put on a smile even as Sabine bared her teeth at him and brought her fist down on the gap between his shoulder and his neck, not appreciating his snide remark, and certainly not enjoying the fact that they were spiraling even deeper into the mass of dancers.
"Put your hand on my shoulder a bit more gently: and a one two three one two three..."
"You blasted… "
"Eyes on the Inquisitor!" Ezra whispered back urgently through the din, still smiling, and Sabine complied, trying to peer across the sea of dancers to get this dismal affair over with. Thank the stars that the tune was at least a lively one, but at the same token she had no idea how to dance to it. She just... swayed in place, dragged onwards by Ezra's nimbleness.
"They're coming over here."
"Well blend in more, Spectre 5! Loosen your feet, shimmy a bit! I know you're bad at dancing but this..."
"Spectre 6, I'll loosen your jaw."
"With your tongue I hope-" Ezra whispered back with a devious, devilish smirk.
Sabine hissed at the joke, glad that her heel had been able to hit it's mark on Ezra's toe. The padawan yelped but kept dancing, in pain but still grinning as he coaxed her into a more lively waltz, dipping a shoulder and giving their dance a bit of a bounce.
"Now that's what I call lively! Just move side to side, follow my lead."
Sabine just shut her eyes and tried to forget about her discomfort and frustration. Ezra knew her buttons, and it frustrated her that he couldn't take things seriously when she knew he was more than capable. She wanted to laugh and smile, just pass this irritation just as another one of Ezra's ridiculous antics, but the fear…
The fear of the Inquisitor, the importance of the mission and the danger of failure, the absolute absurdity of this shoddy attempt of a dance, all of this apprehension found no comfort in Ezra. He just laughed and joked, discounting her concerns as if she was complaining about a cloud in the sky... as always. She knew how warm and secure Ezra could make people feel, from an impoverished and hungry child to the desperate parent. She saw how he reached out tenderly and instilled hope, granted resolve and peace of mind. It was his gift, something he had before he became so talented in The Force… so why did he share so willingly with others, with such truth and sincerity… and not her? Not like he hadn't helped her before: But why couldn't he charm her now?
She followed Ezra's lead, irate but eager to get his latest ploy over with so she could give him a piece of her mind. When he dipped, she followed him, when he threw her away, she spun back. When he smiled...
She smiled.
"There we go!" Ezra exclaimed happily, sky blue eyes brighting evermore as he noticed that she was finally following his lead and mirroring his disposition. Sabine instinctively added a more vicious and exasperated tint to her grin, but being caught up in the moment seemed to evaporate her apprehension and negativity. The wily padawan had charmed her after all - even though it wasn't exactly the peaceful sort of anesthesia she was looking for.
Of course, Sabine was clumsy. But with Ezra she was able to look semi-decent, and together they made good progress through the swarm. He slowed down their tempo midway, allowing them the chance to sway in a massive of laughing and cheering adolescents, matching their steps and beat, but free to look and speak as they pleased.
"Do you see her?" Sabine asked, peering over Ezra's shoulder and to her sides.
"No. But we're almost at the edge of the crowd. Here."
Ezra broke away from her and the dance, save for one hand, a tether to lead her out of the rabble. Gratefully the Mandalorian followed him, exiting out of the mass of people and back to the entrance of the venue, where the standing tables stood, mostly empty and more importantly, with no Inquisitor in sight. Duke Laster had vanished as well. The snarky crime boss reminded her of the annoyance she held for Ezra at the start of the dance, the embarrassment and the frazzled nerves of escaping the Inquisitor...
"See? All good. Now let's see what our rebel friends have to say!"
"She'buy'ce." Sabine muttered to nobody, wanting to lead the way and leave all of this behind but unwilling to call attention to herself. She found herself burnt out with Ezra at the moment, but a tired smile stuck to her face. Despite the initial rush of betrayal, she had no reason to be angry at him: The world didn't end. While she didn't like dancing with Ezra, maybe the fact that they didn't have a lightsaber through their guts made the whole experience feel just a little bit more bearable.
"Hm?" Ezra muttered, picking up on Sabine's statement but not versed in her native tongue.
"Let's get going, nerve burner." Sabine responded quickly, outstretching her hand to give Ezra the lead. The young jedi began to walk forward, but soon froze in his tracks.
"Ugh... Yeah, well, about that..."
Third Sister frowned as her eyes hopped from person to person in the crowd, trying to identify the disturbance as she quietly prowled around the cantankerous mass of civilians. She had grappled and squeezed The Force for guidance and answers, but it's hints were difficult to understand, almost uncooperative. There was a Force sensitive in the crowd, she was sure of it, but her focus on the individual was unsteady, at times vanishing altogether. With this erratic flux in her connection, this maddening blindness in The Force, Inquisitor was growing more and more certain that the person was absconding itself, hiding it's nature to her.
She knew the person was amongst the partygoers - the gravity pulled her to this mass of dancers, at least that was certain. She looked across the ocean of bobbing heads, the redheads and the blondes and the brunettes, but none of them elicited a response, their masks laughing back at her. Wherever this force user was, they would never be identified at this distance - the Inquisitor needed a more personal, a more intimate connection.
So let them come to her. She spoke out loud, assuming that the troopers would be listening.
"Lock down this level."
"You know what they need in these?"
"What."
"Music."
Sabine groaned lightheartedly while Ezra grinned at his own joke, as they stood waiting in the turbolift, falling back down to the lower levels. It had taken a bunch of shadow-stepping to sneak around the perimeter guards once again, but they had found an empty lift. It beat the alternative:
The Inquisitor had cut them off by locking down the main causeway to the academy, assisted by a group of Deathtroopers. While they made no move to test or apprehend any of the partygoers who were trailing out of the venue, Ezra made it clear to Sabine that he not be able to hide his identity at such a close range.
So they would have to take what previously was the riskier route, sneaking back onto the level where they had first entered the Imperial block - the problem being that all of the sabo-charges would mean many of the bridges would be inaccessible due to personnel repairing the damage and likely one very irate and confused Torun guardsman.
"You know, you have a point." Sabine admitted. "Why don't they play music in turbolifts?"
The lift shuddered to a stop at the desired location, and Ezra nodded thoughtfully, processing two different thoughts at once.
"No idea, but no use fixing this one… Maybe at our new base you can spruce things up." Ezra proposed, before returning to the mission at hand. "Nobody outside - we're clear."
As the doors opened and they stepped out into the hallway, walking quickly towards the exit outside. The power generator thrumming behind them, Sabine suddenly had an epiphany.
"Wait one second - you think I'm going to let you inflict your Lothal junk to the entire squadron?"
"Oh come on." Ezra sighed as they approached the door. "It's not that bad. Weren't we supposed to have some Life Day party or something? ...Before Thrawn screwed everything up. We're gonna need some gnarly sound system, so why not make it more permanent?"
"Oh yeah, the celebration." Sabine exclaimed, remembering that old talking point. "Wasn't really a big priority, though. Just a moral booster. Phoenix Leader hasn't brought it up since."
"Not surprising." Ezra muttered, thinking back to Thrawn's offensive as he poked his head out the door, checking all angles, before motioning with his hands for her to follow.
"Not surprising." Sabine agreed, dropping the discussion and proceeding with stealth.
Sparks arcing through the air and filling the silence with jolts of static and electric charges, the industrial platform wasn't a comfortable or safe place to be. Recently sealed electrical conduits now showed burns and partial melts due to the surge of energy that followed the detonations. Despite the power thrumming through the walls and wires, most of the lights were shorted out, and instead the way was lit by dim power strips built into the walkway, guardrail, and ceiling.
The walkway itself was almost as cramped and exposed to the elements as the service ladder or the maintenance walkway underneath the Imperial landing platform. It circled the entire pillar, extending out only to anchor the bridges that leapt out from it. Durasteel beams extended outwards from the complex to support the main reactor platform above them, creating nooks and crannies, some of which showed signs of welding and tagging - street artists and maintenance crews at work - both trying to erase one another's work.
Out in the distance an Imperial patrol transport was moonlighting as a spotlight, focusing it's intense beams on the first bridge Sabine had rigged, the bridge they had crossed. The vehicle's stabilizer blades were quiet, but Sabine could hear more drifting downwards to sweep the area. Little lights blinked in and out amidst the smoking structure, workers trying to piece together and fix the damage done. Some other links to the grid would have similar damage, but the scale of damage wouldn't be suspicious to the workers or engineers - a single miniscule error in such a massive power network tended to have such damaging consequences.
Ezra motioned to Sabine, pointing towards another bridge in the opposite direction. It was simply too dangerous to try and make the journey across a bridge in this sector, with the congregating ships and the workers sweeping the area: Sabine could already see the glint of flashlights approaching around the bend of the curved walkway. They would take the long route to the docks then, moving through a residential pillar of the city and then crossing over another bridge to the pillar that held Lando and the fabled rebels.
Doubling back and passing the entrance to the turbolift, trying to keep silent despite the metal walkway, the two rebels made it about forty feet before they were blocked off by another set of flashlights. Ezra whispered a curse as they turned back to retreat to the exit and hide in the complex… only to have the shiny glass doors slide open and few more engineers walk out into the opening. Ezra and Sabine froze, then dove into the grooves to avoid the piercing gaze of a flashlight and buy some time.
"Karabast."
"You can say that again." Sabine grumbled back, irritated about the small space that they were stuck in. Since Ezra was stuck to the wall, she was the one who had to peer out of the darkness to spy the location of the engineers. Pulling back, she breathed deeply to sum up their situation.
"Three of them - coming this way. You got this?"
"Got what?"
"Your mind tricks, Spectre 6. What do you think I was talking about?"
"Woah, woah. Three is a bit too much."
Sabine blinked and peered close at Ezra, as if trying to understand the statement.
"Too much? What's too much?!"
"There are three of them!"
"You've tricked like five people up until this point. The guard on the bridge, the guy on the turbolift…"
"Spectre 5, it's differen-"
"The guard at the dance, the guard at the stairs, the Deathtrooper… five people! You're a trick machine!"
"But this is three in one go! Totally different."
"Different?!"
"Yes! Different!"
It was frustrating that Ezra wasn't able to bail them out of this, it was more annoying that Sabine couldn't knock him across the head because the space they hid in was too small for that. Him and his mystical powers, so useful and at the same time so kriffing useless. His defensive gestures were inches away from her face, adding to the Mandalorian's growing claustrophobia. The footsteps clanging down the hall, an impending doom that was only seconds away, certainly didn't help matters as well. Ezra also had started to lose nerve, beginning to reach down to his belt to produce his lightsaber.
Sabine was furiously thinking, as the adrenaline that had just gone dormant in her veins since the conference and the dance spiked once again. She rushed to stop Ezra's rashness - no matter how smoothly it would go, attempting to dispose of the three was just too dangerous, with all of the spotlights panning about. Grasping his hand and shoving it away from the lightsaber, Sabine tried to make it clear to Ezra that they had to stick to guile. But what would they do? They didn't have time to talk - the flashlights and their carriers would be in earshot in moments. So what would she do? How would Ezra respond?
"Sabine." Ezra growled, his tone rising with confusion and panic. "What are you doing?"
Good question: What was she doing? But a better question: was there an alternative? They couldn't hide in this space - it was bright enough with the glow-panels, and the approaching surveyors carried light with them. All Sabine had left was guile. Trickery. Sabine knew it was the best shot they had, but she didn't know how to explain it. Adrenaline made her lips dry and her heart race much too quickly - whatever she was thinking of - she was doing. No turning back.
Shab it all.
She continued to lean in, raising her other hand and grabbed Ezra by the shoulder, pulling her up and close to his face. Very close.
Too close.
Imagine your surprise: a short occurs in energy conduit 45-C and blows out twenty other links in the Capital System before your fist connects with the Emergency Kyber Purge button, making the oscillation of the crystals drop by almost 30% to prevent more blowouts. A once and a lifetime save that you are extremely, extremely proud of, but will get no reward for, only more snark from the Imperial overseer and his filthy committee. At least you get the wonderful irritation that the system will fluctuate for the hours to come - no more massive calamities but many dim lights and sudden blackouts are now in the horizon. Lots of work for you and your night crew, and a whole lot of fun and excitement for the rest of the populace, who will obviously be emboldened by the blackouts, exploring more forbidden activities in the darkness and shadow. It beats the boring, uneventful routine for everyone, at least.
You and two of your cohorts were already exhausted and annoyed for missing most of the festival: You were able to enjoy the morning festivities as you clocked for a nightshift - not willing to lose your life in the chaotic evening of the holiday, but jealous enough to see all of the debauchery and hedonism in the undercity thanks to some holo-programs and party shows. Maybe next year, you think, when you save up for a blaster or splice tool for some security. Then you'll have a fun time like the academy days.
You were headed off to check for any structural damage - fixing the network may take a couple days but stabilizing the crystal's oscillation with a weakened link is not good protocol . There were already groups of workers sweeping the system, but time was of the utmost importance, so that the Imps didn't come rushing down from their high horses and start dispensing unjust punishment.
And to add to all of this drama, you and two others come across some skrogging interlopers locking lips in a restricted sector: the first of many taking advantage of the power outages. Probably two partygoers from the ball on the academy level, sneaking down for a beautiful view of the city from below, with an electric lightshow as an added bonus: As much as you can understand the romantic sentiment, you're trying to do your job. Not here, not now, please.
Your flashlights haven't glazed over the lovers just yet, and you're the last one to see the sight - your two comrades had just pointed them out to you, about 5 meters away, in the bloody lavalight. You make a motion to speak up and ruin this indecent affair when Alxae, your superior, turns around and motions you to do the same.
"They're hooking up!" You whisper angrily, defensively and about to throw down the book... Public Display of Affection in a non-public zone was not protocol.
"So is two-thirds of the kriffin' city, Plyon." Alxae shot back casually. "Let these two have their moment - there's no damage here and we can run a short energy diagnostic through this section to give them a little scare so they can scamper off and connect elsewhere."
You look beyond her and your other co-worker Ferrus, seeing that the other group down the walkway had gone far enough to check the rest of the conduits. Ferrus gave a little wave and the two other workers waved back, signaling that no damage was present in any of their couplings. Ferrus and Alxae retreat, and caught in the tide, you follow suit. Truthfully, it's not that big of a deal, and you're already grinning at the situation like your friends.
"Some girl - she was the one pinning him to the wall. I love girls with bit of rebar in them, don't you?" Ferrus exclaimed with a dash of excitement as they distanced themselves from the lovers, while Alxae rolled her eyes in response.
"She needs that, poor romantic gal. Couldn't see much of the guy in the murk, but I could see he wasn't that good at kissin'." The reactor supervisor muttered. "Now let's get that diagnostic set up so we can get them outta here and spare that poor chap from embarrassing himself."
Sabine could hear the footsteps fade into the distance, but with how much blood was rushing through her body she was still frozen in fear and apprehension. How could she know they were truly gone? Ezra was the one to decide the manner by pushing her away with the shoulders, immediately putting his hands up to his face, his extremely red face.
"I didn't even kiss you, coward." Sabine grinned nervously, almost emboldened by what happened, stepping out into the walkway and looking up and down, confirming that the sweepers had left the area.
Her statement was only part true, and she could hear the truth in her voice: much too quick and much too terse... Shivering, even. When she had pressed her face up onto his, faking a lovers embrace, with no purposeful contact... but sometime amidst tilting her head and pretending, there was a friction that dragged across her lips. Touch. It was unsettling, embarrassing, and strangely electrifying. Not something Sabine liked to think about. Electrifying. They ha-Stop. She couldn't think about this.
"W-well... " Ezra tried to respond, just as frazzled and disoriented as the Mandalorian- or maybe even more so. "This… this is what I get for my impulsive antics... right?"
"Let's get going." Sabine declared, already walking towards the bridge and away from the subject in her classic Sabine manner. Ezra took a moment, rubbing his face to make sure that it was still there, that what he had felt wasn't a lie. Halfway towards the bridge entrance he opened his mouth to speak, but thought the better of it.
Want, desire, passion: Paramount virtues of the Sith. Third Sister was familiar with these emotions, these carnal engines of nature and life. She considered herself to be a savant at manipulating them, a force wielder whose connection with her needs granted her a determination and resolved unmatched. Other inquisitors were equally obsessed and absorbed in their own drives and foolish delusions of grandeur, but she considered herself destined for the title Grand Inquisitor. No one else.
Because it was this affinity to want that awoke her to a craving, strong in The Force and deep below her. Walking to the edge of the bridge, the Inquisitor looked out into the ferrous void and then down to the lower levels - surveying the patrol transports buzzing about the bridges that stretched out from the reactor complex. One of the bridges spoke to her - a nexus of emotion that was no longer hidden: A massive storm of longing and fear and power.
Her target had lost control, and was now visible to her through the force, ripe for the picking. Still, the Inquisitor couldn't help but feel that this person was only showing a fraction of it's inner turmoil, still trying to hide their talent in the Force. Even better: let The Brother feast on bitter meal of her success and his self-absorbed, self-destructive animosity - she would claim this prize alone. She cast a sidelong glance at the commanding Deathtrooper.
"Get me a speeder."
End Chapter