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Chapter 7
Countdown
"You up? Hey, Ezra… Ezra!"
"Huh? Ye-yeah, I'm up, I'm up!" The Jedi stammered, bolting upright and nearly headbutting Sabine on the way up. Sabine had one arm around his back, pulling him forward and helping him sit forward, while another had retracted from his neck, where it had previously been searching for his pulse.
"Stars, Ezra. For a bit there I thought you weren't breathing - you had just flopped down when we landed."
Ezra took in their surroundings, stuck on a random rooftop in the city, the port looming quietly in the distance. He then focused on Sabine, who he then realized was quite close to him, the warmth of her hand and the detail of her face, still partially obscured by the same slender, artistic mask. It was at that moment he realized how the small lines of color seemed to draw him into her hazel eyes, and the moment he locked eyes with her he found himself too self-conscious to return her gaze.
"Uh…" He grunted as he looked to the side and pulled himself up off the ground and away from this unsettling connection. "Sorry about that, Sabine. I'm alright now. Let's move."
Sabine sighed and as she rose up, pulling Ezra up with her.
"You sure? I'm not too experienced on this "Force Fatigue" business."
"No worries." Ezra grumbled as he quickly broke contact with his partner and hopped in place to get his blood moving. "I'm fine, I'm fine… I just need to play it smart, that's all."
"Then we have a major problem." Sabine joked, her mask failing to mask her enthusiasm.
"Ha, ha. Very funny." Ezra mumbled as he began to move with her, down to the streets below. After setting foot in dark alleyway and blending in with the mulling crowds, Ezra began to realize their predicament.
"So… any leads on Lando?"
"Any leads? I think we're done with that sleemo." Sabine responded casually. "I was thinking about crashing with our new friends again."
"Not with the Inquisitors here." Ezra sighed, glancing at the discussions that were occurring around them, some of them hilariously inebriated beyond comprehension. "No, I'm sure Lando's waiting for us. There must of been something we missed…"
"Like what?"
"I mean - he had a deal with Lastar… maybe we're part of that scheme?"
"Yeah? Well his 'scheme' seems pretty bad, considering we'll be walking around town all night with no idea what to do."
"Lando's tricky - he must have hinted at something…"
Sabine's eyes browsed the walls and the shuttered shops as she simmered in thought. She browsed all of the enterprises, from general stores and their articles of food to the toy shops and all of the toy models on display...
"Well… Wait. Wait!"
Ezra yelped in surprise as she grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him into the shadow of another alleyway. In the darkness, the only thing that was properly illuminated was his friend's face and the communicator she hovered between their faces.
"This is Spectre 5, Scorch 1 do you copy?"
"Scorch 1?" Ezra muttered quietly, earning a quick roll of the eyes from his partner. The transceiver piped for a bit before the response, as the Rodian Rebel know as Vellu spoke back.
"Spectre 5, nice to hear from you! All is well on our end, but we didn't see anything fly into orbit."
"Plan's a'changing, Scorch 1: When you were "fixing up" Lastar's office, did any of your operatives spy any Corellian ships in Lastar's service? Anything in the YT series."
There was a brief pause before the response.
"Let's see… Well, there is his personal ship, a YT-1300."
"That's it. Where is it located?"
"From what my team gathered it's docked at the Space Traffic Control hub, just beyond the Industrial district. Bay 8."
"Fantastic." Sabine responded. "We'll take it from here, Scorch team. Keep in touch."
Ezra wasn't going to have Sabine explain it to him: he had already put the pieces together when she tugged him out of the darkness and into gloomy redlight.
"So that's the 'newer model' Lando was talking about?" Ezra thought out loud. "He makes a deal with Lastar's lackey, loses a YT-1000 and runs off with a YT-1300... It sounds like a pretty good deal… but the details don't add up, though. How could a lackey get the ignition keys to his boss's private ship?"
"Yeah... Maybe he was expecting us to get more information out of that guy at the docks, because even if we knew he was going for Lastar's ship, we wouldn't have any idea where it would be or what Corellian Cargo ship we'd be looking for. A pretty chit Lando plan, if you ask me."
"Sure… but it's a lead. Let's get moving and see if he turns up."
The landing of Lambda-class Imperial shuttle was uncharacteristically loud and jarring, something that seemed to be intentional. The silence that fell over the hangar as the Grand Inquisitor made her way down the ramp was unnerving even to Third Sister.
It didn't even matter - the slave was already terrified to her core: The Grand Inquisitor was known for her utter intolerance. Serving underneath their masters, the warrior had gone so far as to kill another Inquisitor for what she claimed was 'incompetence' and a 'clear misunderstanding of our objective'.
What in the galaxy was that supposed to mean? How could Inquisitors disagree on their kriffing objective?
Simple: The Grand Inquisitor was principled - firmly aligned her ideals of efficiency and utter devotion to Lord Vader… but no, it wasn't so simple: The leader had more than just respect for Lord Vader's power. She had respect for what he had brought to the galaxy, she had a code of ethics… something foreign to the Third Sister.
Not much is as frightening as the unknown.
"Well..."
"Grand Inquisitor - My humble apologies for failing to subdue the Jedi." Ninth Brother began. For all of his honey and respect, the apology only elicited a frustrated sigh from their leader.
"Apologies lead to nothing - and regret only goes a bit further... I want you two to understand that the future of our organization is currently under consideration by both Lord Vader and Emperor Palpatine. So, you can understand how failures like these unnerve me."
"A momentary setback!" Third Sister pleaded, trying to make her case. "They still are in the Capital, and with you..."
An outstretched palm was all that was needed to quiet the Inquisitor.
"With me? You should be able to contain these instances without me. There is much villainy in this galaxy, so many people to protect… Peace cannot flourish when I must scour the streets with two of my disciples for every single Jedi."
"It would have been an easy enough task if we had fought the Jedi together… but the Mandalorian bested her." Ninth Brother added quietly.
The Grand Inquisitor was silent for a moment, walking over to the female Inquisitor, inspecting the warrior's fringed clothes and sauter-crusted blade, quietly contemplating words that Third Sister anxiously awaited.
"Of course: Mandalorian fighting is rugged, unpredictable and underhand. Falling victim to an their traps and tricks is not something I'd expect out of warriors your caliber…"
And then she peered at Ninth Brother, with a darkening complexion.
"But you fought Ezra Bridger. The Jedi. The most binary, predictable threat that you are trained to deal with. And you failed. I consider that just as grave an offense."
The fearful Inquisitor lost some of her terror when she saw her comrade swallow with a sickly change in demeanour. The Grand Inquisitor produced her own lightsaber, weighing the hilt and inspecting its appearance, lost in her own thoughts.
"Your failures are damning, but you shall have a chance to rectify them. Take me to the owner of the freighter - wherever the rebels have fled to, he will tell us."
The Space Control tower was situated in the center of celebration, an awkward situation: a monument of order in control languishing in an Executive district filled with clubs and open dance floors. Various strobe lights and flicker orbs illuminated the district in a strange and disorientating luminescence, with changing colors and blinking lamps almost doing more harm than good. The promenade of neon and rave that led up to the VIP hangars also stretched out into a massive bridge that served to bisect the capital. Shut down due to the revelry, it was now a walkway and open space for the antics of the party population.
Ezra could only imagine what Sabine thought of all of the dancing that was going on around them. He made a snide remark about it when they first entered the frenetic atmosphere, and she just laughed at the prospect of another dance through danger. Progress? Towards what?
They had approached the hub of celebration from the industrial district, and as such didn't have to put up with massive crowds. That soon changed when they passed the first couple of open-air bars and clubs, lost in a sea of blaring music and inebriated partygoers, but the closer they got to the Imperial facility, the more the crowd melted away. Drifting between the clusters of civilians, the pair began to plot their infiltration.
"Pretty light security - it would be a cakewalk if you could pull off a mind trick… How far off are the Inquisitors?"
Ezra let his soul drift a bit, embracing The Force and opening himself to the life residing on Shu-Torun. The tundra that clawed back at his skin made him quickly retreat back into himself. Sabine saw him exhale, his complexion bothered and disheartened by the surge of darkness.
"Not sure, but it's only getting worse. Here's hoping Lando will show… How much fuel do you have on the pack?"
Sabine tilted her head momentarily, recalling the readout she had checked before entering the field.
"17 percent capacity. Not that bad, all things considered… and I still have one more anti-Inquisitor kit."
Ezra shook his head, and Sabine nodded in understanding.
"Yeah, yeah, I know. They'll probably be prepared for it this time..."
"No problem, just think on your feet." Ezra responded casually as he started off towards the standing guard. "And besides, we aren't planning to cross blades with them again."
"Right." Sabine affirmed as she followed Ezra up to the entrance. Smiling sweetly as her Jedi friend meddled with the poor man's mental state, she briefly considered asking Ezra to make the commander imitate a Bantha. With the Inquisitors on their tail... perhaps some other day. But the curiosity got the better of her when they started running down to the Bay 8.
"Could you make one of those Stormtroopers act like a lothcat?"
"What?"
"You know, your Jedi mind tricks. Could you make someone act like that?"
"Mind tricks are influencers, perspective altering tricks, not mind changers. You just make someone 'understand' things that aren't there. But you can't just convince someone that they are a lothcat, that simply doesn't make sense. You're thinking of Force Dominate."
"Force Dominate?"
"You saw me use that on the Walker pilot when we broke out Hondo, remember?"
"Oh…"
Ezra chuckled as he poked the sealed doorway inquisitively, before popping open the control panel and producing his omnitool.
"Haha, yeah. 'Oh' indeed. Wasn't I such a swell guy?"
"Oh yeah." Sabine sarcastically affirmed, her voice flat and deadpanned at the memory. "The life of the party. Couldn't get enough of you."
"Nobody could." Ezra laughed as he continued to tinker with the circuits, trying to coax the door to cycle it's door-opening mechanism. "I was such a charmer!"
"Mhm." Sabine sassed as the door opened. "Well, at least you still have a charm with doors."
"Heh...After you."
The freighter looked massive, thanks to its disk-like shape that reached out over the hangar floor with quiet intimidation. The rebel pair approached the ship from the rear, giving them a good long look at the powerful sublight engines lining the ship's stern. Ezra couldn't help but whistle at the sight and speak out loud.
"Alright. I can see why this is a good haul."
Lando Calrissian answered.
"Good haul? What do you think this is, some sort of prize?"
Ezra blinked and looked up, at the figure of a man who suddenly appeared on the top of his ship. Lando turned around and slowly clambered his way down the side of the ship before dropping completely to the ground - a considerable fall.
"Isn't it always a prize for an 'entrepreneur' like yourself?" Sabine responded, approaching the man with a tinge of scepticism and judgment. "Absolutely horrid instructions, by the way."
"The other ship was bugged and recording all audio, and Lastar's men swarm the docks! I knew it was a stretch but I was sure you'd put it all together. After all, we have so much histor-"
"Experience." Ezra interrupted, taking a page of Lando's playbook while Sabine held back a chuckle. "Now, let's get this stolen ship airborne. We only have -"
"Don't worry about the time, that doesn't matter anymore! And for the record, this baby wasn't stolen, she was reclaimed - this here is the Millennium Falcon, my flagship among the cosmos... Lastar thought he could swipe it from me after he saw how quickly I pulled off the Kessel run, well… no dice. All I had to do was commandeer one of his underling's cargo ships for ransom to get the info I desired. A few pulled wires and the Falcon is mine once again, now with an auto-turret and an improved targeting array!"
"Well, I'm happy that you have your baby back. Happier that Lastar's footing the bill. We'll celebrate when we're in hyperspace and away from this furnace." Sabine agreed, to Lando's swift disapproval.
"Ah, no, not yet. The magnetic lock is in place, now that you took so long. Activated about ten minutes ago."
"Magnetic lock?" Ezra frowned, producing his lightsaber and scanning landing poles for a mechanical boot.
"The entire platform is magnetized, with the grip localized in accordance to the form of the ship docked." Lando explained, bringing attention to the metallic floor of the hanger, which shone with polish and without a speck of damage. "Can't lightsaber this mechanism away."
"Great." Ezra said, clipping the lightsaber to his belt once again. "So, where do we g- oh, right... That's why you're still here, waiting for us: We're going to sneak into some high-security place to disable the lock."
Lando pointed to the Space Control Tower.
"...And you're pointing at the Space Control tower. Great! Say… You'll still be here when we demagnetize the platform and get back down, right?" Ezra announced as the smuggler began to walk off.
"A deal's a deal!" The rogue said as he sauntered to the opening loading ramp, leaving the two rebels to plan their last heist of the evening.
They stared at the pillar of the Space Control Tower, about half the size of the broadcast tower on Lothal.
"No way you can fly both of us up there, right?"
"Well... Maybe we don't have to get 'up there'." Sabine corrected. "The magnetic lock is probably powered by an operative generator and power line that runs straight to this hangar. Take that out and the Bay Eight should be temporarily relieved of magnetism."
"Good idea - let's get this over with."
They exited the hangar opposite of where they had first entered, heading straight towards the base of the control tower that loomed less than 50 meters in the distance. In typical Imperial efficiency, there was no straight hallway to the Control Tower's base - instead, the pair had to take a right and find the hallway that would take them to the lifts and the generators beneath them.
Security was light. Too light.
Sabine sighed as she summoned a lift with a knuckle to the control pad and leveled her blasters down the hallway, expecting a swarm of stormtroopers in the next couple moments.
"If I didn't know any better, I'd say that this was good luck… That security is light because of the festival."
"But... it's a trap."
"It's totally a trap." Sabine agreed, overlapping Ezra's words with a chuckle and a sigh.
"Well, they've had their opportunities to intercept us: we still have a chance at outrunning them." Ezra offered hopefully, prompting an eye-roll from his friend.
"I guess we could - otherwise they would've confronted us in the hanger. But apparently my Jedi's broken - he can't seem to detect anything!."
Ezra smiled as he stepped into the elevator after Sabine, looking down the corridor as he disappeared from view. The Mandalorian was already priming a charge on the roof of the elevator, in case they needed another dynamic distraction.
"No, not broken, just low on charge."
"Hmm." Sabine hummed, humored but trying to act unimpressed as she admired her handiwork. "I guess you need to start bringing thermos of stim-tea or caf for your missions... Also, forty credits we get greeted by lightsabers when these doors open."
Ezra thought for a moment, and dallied a bit with The Force to tip things in his favor...
The rebels were inside the tower, Space Traffic Control could confirm: their path was traced through the VIP docks and down the lifts - clearly making their way down to the magna-lock generators. Ninth Brother insisted they should move to cripple the docked ships to rob the rebels of any escape vehicle, but their master disagreed.
"Destroying the ships would make too much noise, not to mention under the ownership of many high-profile characters on Shu-Torun… You two will go to stop them at the generators. Capture them…. Or pursue them through the facility and allow me to cut off their escape. Understood?"
Third Sister bowed her head.
"Yes, Grand Inquisitor."
"...Deal."
"Ah, now he works!" Sabine said with teeth in her smile, her eyes sparkling with a mischievous tint.
"You know it's more complicated the further I look." Ezra defended with a raised palm. "I can look beyond this doorway with little issue, but down the hall… Deeper into the future? Different story."
"Ezra Bridger: always ready with an excuse." Sabine teased back in her usual way, pretending to not listen or care. Ezra sighed and rubbed his hand on his face as he chuckled, before focusing on the door as it opened...
...Sometimes he couldn't read his Mandalorian friend: She was the most disciplined and astute warrior of the Rebellion, Ezra would bet his saber on it... but she could choose the strangest moments to kick back and jaw off. Maybe her affinity for the battlefield enabled this impromptu attitude, her comfort in operations giving rise to such sudden flirtations. Not that he didn't mind - this was what made Sabine so fun and unlike the rest of the team, the only one who could rival him in spontaneity. Only with her he could be the nervous, uptight one.
The doors had opened while Ezra thought, revealing an empty landing as he had predicted. In the distance, the quiet hum of a generator vibrated behind the sealed metal doors. Sabine peaked out, checking the corners and down the hall, before turning to Ezra with an impatient grin.
"Hurry up, the generator won't fry itself."
Ezra hustled out of the elevator to catch up to Sabine, who had bolted down the hall towards the source of the buzz. He produced his blaster to help Sabine cover the angles: while Sabine trained her weapons down the hallway, he had his DL ready to cover their tracks. Yet still their footsteps echoed out unanswered, alone in the metal network. The door to the generator room was even accessible through Sabine's wrist-tool, easily opening up to a large room filled with readouts, control panels and glass-tube capacitors.
"Hm…" Sabine muttered as she surveyed the room for weaknesses, producing zap charges as she took lead and approached the flickering electronics.
"I'll just stand back and let you work your charms." Ezra joked to no reply, as Sabine was already too engrossed in her craft to hear him. As she muttered to herself and pursued past the various stations, she occasionally attached one of her zapper charges to a magnetic surface. Ezra took the time to seat himself by the door, crossing his legs and letting his mind settle. He let the peaceful wake of The Force ebb around feet, slowly creeping up past his knees and waist until he was quietly submerged in the ocean. It was strange how The Force revealed itself to him, taking the form of a foreign sky, an alien Earth, always invigorated by the souls and energy of every iota of life in the Galaxy. It was dizzying, healing… even-
"Not again, Ezra! Do I really hav eto wake you to make sure nothing's loose up there?"
The Palawan opened his eyes to see Sabine hovering over him, grinning and eager to chastize. Ezra quickly stood up and disputed her complaints.
"One can never be too connected to The Force."
"...Right." Sabine responded, almost Hera-like in her playful skepticism. "Done here - charges are set for thirty seconds on my mark."
"You sure?"
Sabine snorted and pressed a button on her arm guard, and a synchronized chorus of countdown-beeps sounded off. Ezra blinked and gave her a thumbs up.
"Roger roger! We're leaving."
Ninth Brother hissed as he sensed movement behind the door - the scum had already sabotaged the generators. He slowed down just as Third Sister arrived to the generators doors from the opposite side, cutting off the only remaining escape route. He brought out his lightsaber, his eyes conveying his intentions to his subordinate - they would trap them here between these two lightsabers, no matter how many generators they had sabotaged.
Once the doors opened, the infiltrators bolted out with quite a spring in their step - eager to get far away from the explosion. The girl caught eye of the red blades the first, halting in a second and reaching for her darksaber. The padawan was less aware, taking two steps forward before he recognized the Inquisitor standing before him.
Ninth Brother grinned maniacally, teeth sparkling as he slowly began to rotate his Saberstaff.
"Hello again…"
The two rebels activated their lightsabers in response, their faces narrowing as they assessed their opponents. Ninth Brother found their resolve so hilarious and duplicitous: they had run out of tricks - trapped like prey in a snare. It would be simple from here…
"Now what will you do?" He began, too eager to conceal his satisfaction. "What brilliant maneuvers will save you this time?"
"I've got three - what's your stance on Mandalorian tranq-darts?"
The kid was oozing with overconfidence, his eyes carrying an unshakable spark of something that dug underneath the warrior's skin: His distance from the Dark Side infuriated Ninth Brother, the composure and lack of fear insulting to the Servant of Vader. Everyone bowed to it's power, but this kid - clearly exhausted - still had the gall to resist - out of spite? Out of condescending purity?
It was enough to make him growl and push step forward: make an aggressive shove or feint to try and unnerve the cocky brat - but the rebel took the advance by sticking his lightsaber forward and towards the hilt of the Inquisitor's saber-staff. The same infuriating counter that had plagued the Inquisitor in the hangar - but Ninth Brother was not the one to shy away from a challenge. Turning his body and tilting his saber forward, he was able to sweep down and catch the jab without retreating ground. Ezra slipped away from the connection before the blade could start spinning again and throw him off balance, and the Inquisitor used the retreat as an excuse to throw an overhead swing into the equation.
This attack the padawan deflected handily, catching it before directing the red lightsaber into the ground. At that moment, an explosion rocked from inside the generator room, and the hallway lights flickered momentarily. It gave pause to Ninth Brother, who eased up the assault to pull his saber out of the floor and wait for the Rebel Jedi to take initiative.
But there was nothing. Ezra had abandoned the duel to aid his partner instead, lunging forward to interrupt Third Sister's assault on the Mandalorian.
Ninth Brother stood still momentarily, before leaping forward with an irritated hiss and swinging at the Jedi who had so rudely abandoned their fight. But at that moment, Sabine Wren pivoted and thrust her darksaber out, forcing another defensive maneuver and amping up the Inquisitor's frustration even more. He reversed motion to strike her with the lagging end of his saber, but the Mandalorian quickly caught the rising blade and with a flick of her wrists directed it to thin air.
But not as smoothly as Bridger - her finesse with the Darksaber was impressive for a lesser human, but not as spectacular as her Jedi friend. Ninth Brother was able to reverse momentum once again and push through her defensive parry, pushing the Darksaber too and fro as he struggled to get an easy track to her gut. The Mandalorian realized the danger and resisted every inch, but Ninth Brother's force was simply too strong. It was at the threshold of victory that Ezra intervened, dancing off of Third Sister's Saberstaff to assist his teammate and spoiling Ninth Brother's hard-earned victory. The Jedi pressed forward, trading a heavy blow before striking at the center of the Saber-staff once more, pushing the Inquisitor to the brink of insanity. Third Sister attempted to capitalize, but the Mandalorian switched opponents with ease.
The two just had so much synergy - even cornered, they showed no fear and had absolute trust in each others' abilities, with some unspoken, unseen connection that made their actions synchronized and effortless. How often had they practiced together?!
And again with Ezra's filthy, shit-eating grin. Fury and impatience boiled over as the Inquisitor felt violence pour into the palm of his left hand: he pushed off the Jedi's blade and pulled back to materialize his rage. This nonsense would end now…
"NOW!"
Sabine was so focused on not dying to the female Inquisitor's saber that she thought she was too late to react to Ezra's cue. She dropped to her knees, almost sprawling completely on the ground, eyes still fixated on her opponent.
The Inquisitor stared downwards at the defenseless Mandalorian for a moment before jerking her face upwards, just as the wave of power took her like a leaf in the wind. The Force Push sent her flying down the corridor, a victim of her own partner's lack of control. Typical Inquisitor impulsiveness, just like she and Ezra had counted on.
Sabine got to her feet to help Ezra deal with the remaining Inquisitor, but for once luck smiled on them - the man was so stunned by his error that Ezra was able to pull him off the ground with ease, pinning him on the ceiling, flat and immobile.
"Run for it." Ezra growled in exertion, and Sabine bolted past just as the Inquisitor broke free. The sharp noise of two sabers connecting sounded off almost made her stop and turn, but she trusted Ezra: he would be right behind her.
And he was.
"Run-run-run!"
"I'm not the one falling behind!" Sabine shot back hotly, unholstering one of her blasters and firing it back at their pursuers. Out of the three shots fired, two of them whizzed back past the pair, deflected by saber.
"What did we say about shooting at Inquisitors?!"
"They're kriffin' Inquisitors, not Vader!" Sabine argued back defensively. "They barely deflected them in our direction!"
Sabine took a quick glance backward to see their hunters hurl their saberstaffs in unison, blotting out the entire hallway as two upright, whirling blades of death. As undaunted and Mandalorian as Sabine was, the sight, along with her exhaustion, ate away at her confidence and patience.
"Ezra…?!"
"Just a bit further!"
Sabine snarled and gave it her all, all 150 percent. The elevator lobby appeared at her side, and she sidestepped into the alcove, grabbing Ezra's shoulder and pulling him along for the ride. She staggered to a stop as he stumbled down. The two lightsabers continued down the hallway, before shutting off and tumbling on the ground in an unceremonious clatter. Ezra summoned the lift just as the lightsabers shot back down the hallway and out of sight, snared by the invisible tethers of the force.
"Uh, Specter 6?"
"Yeah..." Ezra nodded, realizing they had no time to waste on the elevator. "Blow it."
Sabine activated the booby-trapped lift through her wrist-pad, the rigged elevator shutter opposite from them exploded in a wave of smoke and noise. The ran into the smoke just as the Inquisitors arrived at the landing, Ezra grabbing onto Sabine's shoulders as her jetback flared to life one more time, taking them up past the burnt and smoldering remains and into the darkness of the elevator shaft.
Dark red lights were Sabine's guide for which floor they were passing - and the walls that she needed to avoid. Her previous knowledge of Imperial stations flickered by as she passed the armory, the storage level, and the interrogation cells. Arriving at the ground floor and slowing to a hover, Sabine pushed Ezra onto a foothold before the turbolift doors before landing on a thin ledge on the opposite side of the shaft.
"Get to it - they're probably going to use the lift you called."
Ezra already had his saber out and was working on cutting them an entrance, grumbling at the realization.
"Yeah, yeah, I know… Any more fuel in the jetpack?"
"Not enough for a maneuver like that." Sabine yelled, swaying momentarily before stiffening and finding a more stable waiting position.
"Alright." Ezra announced, pulling back his lightsaber and looking to his comrade. "You ready?"
"Just go."
Ezra nodded and summoned The Force, shoving the loose slab of metal out of place and giving the pair an opening. He lept through first, saber instinctively going through the gut of the first Stormtrooper he saw. Pulling out his DL-44, he fired off two quick shots to knock down another trooper and cause the rest of them to flinch. Sabine was out of the elevator shaft and firing blasters right after him, and in two more long swings of each saber, the landing was clear.
But the alarm was blaring.
"Go-go-go!" Ezra cried out, spying an elevator door opening, running away before confirming his suspicions.
The Grand Inquisitor looked over the Executive Hangars from the confines of an imperial patrol transport, a militarized Coruscant Police Gunship that carried a number of troopers to 'help' with her containment of the Jedi. Four other transports hovered around the facility, monitoring the Space Control Tower from the sky: Deceptively silent and uneventful, there was no sign of the struggle occurring deep within the Imperial complex, but through The Force the metal walls hid nothing.
She saw it all, from the rebels entering the generator room, to her underlings attempting and failing to corral them in the hallway (an aggressive and a poorly-thought out strategy, no teamwork and all individual blunder), the rebels jetting up an elevator chute, the dash out towards open air…
"Grand Inquisitor!" Her transceiver screamed out from her belt, mimicking the furious soprano of the Third Sister. "The rebels are headed to Bay Eight."
It took a moment for her to blink the interruption from her eyes, before glancing at the pilot and making her intention clear.
"Move overhead the area and wait for my instruction."
How effective people could be, under the sway of the Force: the Force-Dominated pilot wasted no time for clarification or calculation, easily steering the transport overhead the Hangar and the Corellian Freighter housed within, it's sublight engines already blue with in anticipation.
The Grand Inquisitor stepped out into the air, and fell down, down, down...
Down to put an end to the chase.
End Chapter
