From Flames, I Soar

by Kurenaino

With the Empire at the height of its power and the shadow of a greater threat hanging above all those who would oppose Palpatine, the Specters, led by former Jedi Padawan Kanan Jarrus, are forced to contend with the Sith Lord that set the galaxy ablaze. Sequel to In Chaos, I Thrive.

59. The Antillies Extraction

AN: So...this was actually going to go up the first. And then life played an April Fool's joke on me and gave me the flu. And strep. At the same time. Is this an excuse? Maybe? But really, what delayed this chapter was my mindset going into this thing. It started with "Oh boy! A simple chapter for a simple episode! No problem, done in a week!" Which quickly became not so simple, because I kept having ideas. Like...all the ideas, guys. All of them. Before I knew it, this damn chapter was over forty pages in my word document and I was seriously beginning to wonder what I'm doing with my life. So, here you go. A one off episode of Rebels turned into a massive, pivotal moment in this dumpster fire of a fic. You're welcome, and I'm sorry.

Also, wondering how long you need to wait for the next chapter? Yeah, I am too. Because I can go one of two ways with it. One which can get done fairly quickly, two weeks tops, and one that's...um, significantly more complicated, which will make it another massive expedition like this one was. I haven't decided which yet. Either way, it's gonna blow your collective minds, I promise you that.

Anyway! Enjoy, lovelies! As always, let me know your thoughts, I love to hear them!

Chapter 59: The Antilles Extraction

"Do you think I should cut my hair?"

Sabine looked up from where she sat on the floor, her detailing paint pen between her fingers, and saw Ezra running his hand through his hair, a contemplative look on his face as the thick, dark strands slid between his fingers. She frowned when he looked down at her, gave a non-committal shrug, and returned to detailing the stylized Loth-cat she had painted on the round joint plating of his knee.

"Wouldn't hurt to try a change," she muttered. "What's the worst that can happen? Just grow it out again if you don't like it."

"Maybe asking the girl that changes her look every few months isn't the one you should be going to for cosmetic advice," Zeb said with a laugh, and with a tired sigh, Sabine rolled her eyes and gave the lounging Lasat a devious look.

"I think it makes me the most qualified," Sabine said with a smirk. "I've got the most experience with trying different looks, and my expert opinion, Zeb, says that you'd look excellent in green."

"W-what, me!?" Zeb sputtered as he shot up from his bunk where he had been lying, and Sabine simply shot him a devilish grin, placing her hand on Ezra's chest to keep the other teen from moving as he stifled his laughter, lest he disturb her work on his leg.

"Yes, you," she said slowly, her eyes falling back down to the cybernetic leg as she continued her careful work. "Were I you, Zeb, I'd keep my mouth shut, unless you'd like to wake up one morning as my latest work of inspiration. I shouldn't need to remind you that I know the code to your room."

Zeb swallowed hard, and looked on the wall behind him, where one of Sabine's works was painted upon the wall of the quarters he shared with Ezra, the inspiration striking the Mandalorian on a mission where he and Ezra had overcome their differences and began to work together. He knew very well that when inspiration struck, there was no stopping Sabine. Grumbling as he shuffled to the edge of the bunk, Zeb did as he was told and kept quiet as he watched the artist finish up the work on Ezra's new leg.

If before the leg was sleek and elegant, the very look of it attesting to it's fine craftsmanship and state of the art inner workings, it was now a splash of color, deeply personal and stylistic in a way only the creative Sabine could have done. She had been at work on the leg for the past five days, for hours and hours at a time, as long as Ezra could sit still and sometimes for longer than that, when she managed to muscle him into capitulating to what she wanted. It was nearly complete now, the artistic Mandalorian putting on the final details on the various drawings across the metal leg, and while Zeb had relentlessly teased Ezra for the colorful mess of the work in progress, now that it was nearing completion, even he had to admit it was beautiful.

On the front of the mechanical thigh, in a background splash of orange and green, was Sabine's Starbird in deep red that had come to represent the Phoenix Squadron, on the back, in a burst of black and white, was the ancient symbol of the Jedi, a pair of outstretched wings surrounding a blazing saber that she painted in bright blue, the design of it described to her in great detail by Kanan, who remembered it from his childhood with the extinct order. On the back of his calf, in stark white upon smooth orange, was the symbol of the rebellion's Fulcrum agents, the distinctive diamond patterns that Ahsoka herself bore upon her forehead.

The Temple of Malachor was drawn upon his shin, deep black with a sinister red capstone, the sketchy backdrop done in deep purple and wispy blues that made the whole thing feel spooky and ethereal, a reminder of the place that had taken so much from all of them. Each of the two joint plates upon the sides of his knee were painted as well, the inside one with a green and orange, blocky number six, his Spectre callsign, upon a checkerboard pattern much like the one Sabine had upon her own armor, and the outside one painted with a tan and black Loth-Cat, the simplest representation of Ezra's home on beautiful Lothal. It was busy, nearly every inch of the leg's casing covered in paint, a beautiful, organized chaos that just felt so very Ezra.

"I think we're done..." Sabine said quietly as she sat back on her heels, carefully examining her work, and with a satisfied nod, she patted the metal leg and stood, offering her hand to Ezra to help pull him out of the chair. "Give it a few hours to settle before you wash it so the detailing has time to settle. And don't forget, we can change anything you like at any time."

"I think I'd hate to change it," Ezra said as he placed his foot on the chair to get a look at the Mandalorian's work, grinning as he wiggled his unpainted, cybernetic toes, his foot the only significant part of the metal casing that remained uncolored. "I think it's prefect. Thanks, Sabine. This was a great idea."

"I told you, Ezra, all my ideas are great ideas," Sabine said with a cocky shrug. "You should listen to me more often." From his spot on the bunk, Zeb scoffed, and Sabine flipped the painting pen between her fingers and pointed it menacingly at the Lasat. "Remember, Zeb," she said quietly. "You could be green tomorrow."

"I didn't say anything!" Zeb said with a nervous chuckle, his hands raised in surrender, and with a nod, Sabine holstered the pen in the small sleeve beside her blaster. "So..." Zeb muttered awkwardly, rubbing his head and looking for ways to change the subject. "You still want to cut your hair, Ezra?"

"I'm still thinking about it," Ezra said with a frown, again running his fingers through the long strands and pulling his pant leg down over his cybernetic leg. "I thought I'd ask Luke for his opinion. Wanna come with me to find him?"

"I've got nothing better to do," Sabine said quickly. "I wanted to ask him about the modifications he's made to his X-Wing anyway."

"Rex says you sound like a battle droid, stomping around the way you do," Zeb said with a grin as he jumped up from the bunk. "Wanna play a game while we look for the kid? You hide, and I jump you if I can hear you clanking around. You win if you don't get beaten."

"You're on, Zeb."

Sabine groaned and rolled her eyes when they stepped out of the room and the Lasat promptly slammed Ezra into the wall, the young Jedi student cursing and shouting as he rushed after the laughing Zeb as he sprinted through the Ghost and out into the dry, afternoon air of Atollon. They quickly made their way around the base, Ezra ducking behind ships and starfighters with Zeb in close pursuit, the game becoming combat training in the few times that Zeb managed to catch the slippery teen until he was able to escape the Lasat once again. They had expected to find Luke out by the ships among the mechanic droids and pilots, and when they found no sign of the boy out on the airfield, they took a turn toward the medical ward on the other side of the compound.

Slowing to a walk and biting back their laughter as they entered the stark white halls of the medcenter, the three Spectres stuck close together as they passed by the occasional person and the one valuable medical droid they had on the base, stopping briefly to speak to the droid so that Ezra could thank it for caring for him in his weeks there and so that he could answer some brief questions for the droid's records. Moving on, Ezra peered into each door, looking for Luke, though he had no need to. The second they entered the compound, Zeb and Sabine knew exactly where they would find him. Turning through a series of identical halls, they finally came to the solitary room at the back of the compound, the door tightly closed, and slowing their purposeful walk and silencing their conversations, they quietly opened the door.

They didn't just find Luke inside, but Leia as well, the twins standing close together beside the bacta tank, one of each of their hands upon the warm, smooth glass, an oppressive, somber feeling hanging thick in the air, the room lit in the soft green glow of the bacta tank. Whatever conversation the twins had been having ended immediately as the they looked toward the door, and Ezra promptly forgot the reason he had come here, but whatever it was now seemed irrelevant. Quietly stepping inside the room, Ezra closed the door after the three of them had entered and he slowly stepped forward, slashing a small, tight smile at Luke and Leia.

"H-hey..." Ezra stammered, pointing at the tank where the Sith Lord was suspended. "Any good news?"

"Does it look like there's good news?" Leia sneered, and Luke quickly laid his hand upon her shoulder and gave her a withering look before he looked at the Spectres and shook his head.

"Nothing yet," Luke said quietly, an unsteady, hopeful smile upon his lips. "Maybe soon."

"I hope so," Sabine said. "We could use the good news." A sharp, short ping cut through the air, and the Spectres stood taller, hoping that something on the bacta tank's monitors had changed, something to give them the good news they had asked for, until Leia rolled her eyes, cursed under her breath, and pulled the comlink from her belt.

"What is it?" Leia asked sternly, silent as she listened to the incoming call through her earpiece, her fingers slowly tracing the Sith holocron that sat atop one of the monitoring systems beside the bacta tank. She was silent for a moment, the irritation on her face fading as her brow creased with skeptical disbelief. "How is that possible?" she asked firmly. "Are you sure?" There was silence again, the disbelief morphing into wide eyed shock, her jaw slack as she intently listened. "Understood. We'll be right there."

"Not the good news we wanted, I take it..." Luke said quietly after Leia switched off the com, sighing heavily as she pressed her forehead against the glass of the bacta tank.

"No, not the news we wanted..." Leia muttered as she closed her eyes, still and silent for a moment as she gathered her thoughts and listened to the soft, rhythmic beeping of the monitoring systems. "Our supply run to Teralov failed."

"It...failed?" Sabine asked quietly. "They were intercepted?"

"No, they were destroyed," Leia said between clenched teeth. "The transport ship and all six of the A-Wing escorts. And if that wasn't enough!" she snarled, snatching the holocron from where it rested as she turned to face the group. "We lost contact with one of our Corellian corvettes and a Hammerhead corvette around one of the Mandalorian outposts on Phelbos. Our recon ships just got back from investigating." Leia closed her eyes, her hand tightly grasping the holocron. "Both ships destroyed. No survivors."

"Kerabast..." Zeb growled, his ears flattening against his head. "This keeps up, we aren't going to have a rebellion."

"This keeps up and we aren't going to have anyone to fly our ships," Ezra said. "Six A-Wings? We only managed to steal six Y-Wings from Yarma. That mission was supposed to put us ahead, not have us break even!"

"It didn't even do that," Luke muttered. "We're down six starfighter pilots. All the ships in the galaxy won't matter if we have nobody to fly them."

"The Empire's getting better at predicting our movements..." Leia said quietly as she held out her hand, the holocron lifting off her palm to float before her. "Come on..." she whispered. "Give me something, anything, a weapon, knowledge we can use to defeat our enemy. You came to us for a purpose, don't let the only reason I led my Father to Malachor be to see him to his death, please..." The strain of the Force intensified, the air becoming colder as the Dark Side threaded through it, but the holocron remained unresponsive to the clawing and prying upon its surface, no red glow to acknowledge the power of the Dark Side, only the slow, gentle spin in the air. With a snarl of fury and frustration, Leia snatched the holocron out of the air and slammed it back upon the top of the monitor beside the tank. With a shuddering breath, her shoulders slumping in defeat, she laid her hand once again upon the bacta tank.

"We need you, Father..." Leia whispered, her voice trembling with emotion that she couldn't fail to repress. "Come back to us, please..." Moving to stand beside her, Luke gently put his hand on Leia's back, the two of them standing silently together for a moment, their eyes closed as they reached out for their father as they had so many times before, and felt nothing in return.

"Ahsoka called?' Luke asked quietly, and Leia nodded. "Then we need to get to the command center. Come on." Drawing up taller and nodding, Leia ran her hand along the glass before she turned away from the tank and strode past the Spectres and out of the room without a word, and with a heavy sigh, Luke thrust his hands into his pockets and nudged Ezra with his shoulders.

"You guys too," he said with a tight smile. "Leia's speeder is outside. If we take too long, she'll leave without us."

Quietly mumbling their agreement, the three Sprectres followed Luke out of the medical compound, and after being briefly reprimanded by a waiting Leia for taking too long, they climbed into her XP-38 landspeeder and shot off across the airfield toward the command center. They arrived in short order, the group quickly jumping out of the speeder the second it set down and quickly making their way through the command center toward the briefing room, the droids and personnel that walked through the halls clearing out of their way as they approached.

When they reached their destination, Ahsoka, Kanan and Hera were already standing around the holotable, speaking in hushed tones as they studied the map on display, red points indicating the sites where the Empire had attacked and destroyed their ships. Kanan looked up when they entered, nodded briefly in acknowledgment, and gestured for them to join them, and they quickly filed in around the table, Leia quickly making her way to stand beside Ahsoka.

"Please tell me we have a way to minimize our losses," Leia said, biting down on her lower lip as she studied the map. "Something beyond grounding our ships and laying low for a while."

"We can't just ground our ships," Hera said firmly. "The people on Teralov are still in need of aid. If we-"

"We're in need of aid!" Leia interrupted, leaning over to look in disbelief at the Twi'lek. "You can't seriously be considering attempting that supply run again. The Empire is obviously in the area, and they're looking for us."

"The Ghost was made for runs like this, I've been sneaking past Imperial lines for years, this is a standard run for me and my crew," Hera calmly explained. "I'll go myself. I'll see to it that Teralov gets the aid it needs."

"We have bigger, more pressing matters to discuss before we decide what to do about Teralov," Ahsoka said, cutting in before Leia had a chance to fire off a biting retort to exactly what she thought of Hera's plan. "The Chimaera," Ahsoka said grimly, clearing the map from the holofield and displaying the image of a Star Destroyer with a stark, intimidating engraving of a terrifying beast upon the ship's hull. Beside it flashed the image of a man, nearly human, with blue skin and red eyes and wearing the uniform of an Imperial Navy officer. "We need to talk about Thrawn."

"The blue guy?" Zeb asked, scratching his head, "I didn't think the Empire let aliens in their military."

"They don't officially have a policy against recruiting non-humans," Ahsoka said with a frown. "But there's a reason you don't see alien officers." She pointed at the image. "But Thrawn's different. His talents have overcome even the prejudices against him, despite the High Commands best efforts to see him fail." She shrugged. "I suppose they find it difficult to argue with his results."

"That good, huh?" Ezra asked, and beside him, Sabine scoffed.

"We got away from him easily enough the other day," Sabine said flippantly.

"We got away so easily because he let us go..." Hera muttered quietly. "Something about that entire mission felt wrong, the whole thing was too easy. Getting there, stopping the conveyor, fueling the ships, all without attracting attention from the control tower at the station?" Hera shook her head. "No, the entire thing was a trap."

"It's a poor trap that doesn't catch its prey," Sabine said confidently.

"Yes..." Ahsoka agreed, her brow drawing together as she ran her eyes over the information displayed beside the image of the Admiral, far too little information for her liking. "But we were not the prey the trap was intended for. That, or he saw something that made him let us go, and that is much more distressing." There was silence in the room, the feeling oppressive, heavy and nervous, the Spectres shifting uneasily in their seats as they leaned forward and studied the face of their until now hidden enemy.

"Kenobi talks about this guy a lot," Kanan said, breaking the tense silence. "They have kind of a...thing going, but they haven't really been directly engaged, have they? He says he's dangerous, and I believe him, but none of us have actually faced this guy. How dangerous is he?"

"He was the commander responsible for the extermination of Nightswan's rebels on Batonn," Ahsoka grimly said, a swipe of her datapad calling up the report from that battle, the number of listed casualties staggeringly high, and most of them supposed civilians. "If that isn't enough, even Kenobi thinks twice about engaging him, and anyone that can give a Sith Lord pause is dangerous enough for me."

"He's been hunting Father since we were kids," Luke put in gently. "Leia and I got caught up in a..." He paused, biting down on his lip as he cast a sideways glance at his sister, the girl somber and thoughtful as she studied the information presented before her. "We got involved in a thing," he continued. "A dumb thing involving Hondo that Father said was a trap set by Thrawn."

"I don't understand..." Zeb growled softly, scowling as he looked at the projected ship. "How long does this guy need for his traps to actually work? We sure he's as smart as we think?"

"A lot of the things we're calling traps are actually tests," Ahsoka said tersely, another swipe of her finger pulling up several more files of information, including the detailed report from their battle at Bandomeer, where they first encountered one of many Star Destroyers disguised as the Chimaera. "These traps aren't designed to capture people, they're designed to gather information."

"So..." Ezra muttered, looking around the table. "How much does he know?"

"Given how many ships we've lost in the past few days, I think it's safe to say that he knows us very well," Leia grumbled, placing her hands on the holotable as she stood and looked at the Spectres. "Father always said Thrawn was coming, and now that Nightswan and his rebels are dead, Thrawn's here. We saw that over Yarma, that was the Chimaera. I think it's safe to say that Thrawn's moved into the sector."

"Safe to say," Kanan agreed. "So how do we beat him? How do we fight this guy when every battle against him is a trap in his favor?"

"There aren't many traps that can't be turned against their creators," Hera said thoughtfully, carefully reading over the information in the holofield. "What do we know about this guy?"

"Not enough..." Ahsoka said, gesturing to the data. "We have his military record, so we know how he generally conducts himself. He has a history of being deployed to difficult, lose-lose situations and pulling victories out of them, so we know he's a brilliant tactician and strategist. He's also been known to make an effort to limit casualties."

"Except at Batonn..." Zeb said, pointing at the report.

"Except at Batonn," Ahsoka quietly agreed. "Though that case is atypical for him. So much so that Kenobi believed it wasn't his doing."

"What do you believe, Ahsoka?" Luke asked, and the Togruta crossed her arms over her chest, her sharp eyes quickly surveying the data presented before her.

"I think it's irrelevant," Ahsoka said slowly. "Thrawn's dangerous, and we know little else, and against an enemy like this, it isn't enough." She sighed heavily and closed her eyes, silent for a moment before she looked back at the image of the Imperial Admiral. "The appearance of the Chimaera at Yarma and the failure of our last two missions isn't a coincidence. He already knows us, and we are late to a game he's been playing for years. We need Obi-Wan."

"Until we get him back, we're going to have to make do," Hera said firmly. "If we know every situation we're walking into is a trap, maybe we can better prepare for it, but we can't do much of anything if our entire operation is grounded." Reaching over to Ahsoka's datapad, she swept her hand across it and the holofield was cleared, the sudden disappearance of the information of their enemy making all eyes suddenly snap to focus on the commanding Twi'lek. "We need pilots," Hera said slowly. "Any ideas?"

"Could we ask for more pilots?" Ezra asked. "We have that other base on Yavin, right? That's a much bigger base, they've got a lot more of everything. Surely they have pilots to spare."

"That base is the combined efforts of nearly twenty years of careful planning," Ahsoka said quietly. "We can't risk those assets, especially not if our victory isn't assured. Remember, Thrawn's watching us, and if or Yavin base is discovered by him, it's all over, not just for Phoenix Squadron, but for the entire rebellion."

"Kenobi's got a Star Destroyer," Zeb said with a low growl, his ears flattening against his head. "Can't we borrow his TIE pilots?"

"It's a good temporary solution, but that isn't getting us more pilots," Ahsoka said quietly.

"Well, can I help train pilots?" Luke asked timidly, and he looked over at Hera, a shy smile on his lips. "Hera's probably one of the greatest pilots in the galaxy, and I'm not bad in a starfighter myself. A hundred average pilots aren't worth a dozen great ones. If she and I could turn out even a handful of quality pilots, we can make that go a long way."

"Now that sounds like a plan we can accomplish," Ahsoka said, a knowing smirk on her lips. "Sounds like we're going to be recruiting, and as it so happens, I have a promising lead on exactly that." A few taps on her datapad and the holofield flickered before a large, black monolith appeared before them, a massive, floating tower shaped like the pointed blade of a sword, an intimidating thing, even by the stark, Imperial standards. "This," Ahsoka said almost proudly, "is Skystrike Academy, an elite starfighter academy on the planet Montross. Only the best, most promising Imperial cadets are sent there for training, and one of my Fulcrum agents reports that there are several cadets there who wish to defect."

"Is the information good?" Kanan asked, and Ahsoka flashed him a sly smile.

"It's good," she said quietly. "What you mean to ask is if this is a trap." Ahsoka shrugged. "Given what we're up against, yeah, it probably is, but the information is genuine. There are cadets that wish to defect from Skystrike, and skilled pilots with current information on Imperial military procedure are almost too good to pass up."

"You think Thrawn is suspecting this?" Kanan asked, and for a moment, Ahsoka fell silent, her eyes closed and her brow creased in thought before she looked over at the Jedi.

"I think," Ahsoka said slowly, "that sending someone directly into a highly secure Imperial academy is a bold move that isn't typical of how we've been conducting ourselves as of late. Yes, I believe he's watching, but if we're smart, if the infiltration we conduct is small enough, we might be able to slip past any notice. It's worth the risk, if we have someone right for the job, and we do." A sly smirk spread across Ahsoka's lips, and she slowly looked over at the Mandalorian. "Sabine, you're it."

Sabine was silent for a minute, leaning forward to place her elbows on the table and rest her chin on her palms as she looked at the intimidating, fortress-like academy and read the information beside it, slowly, she leaned back in her seat and gave Ahsoka a quick nod and a confident, "I can do it."

"Alone?" Ezra asked nervously. "I don't know if that's a good idea, Ahsoka. I've infiltrated Imperial military programs before, I could-"

"You are well known, not just as a rebel, but as a Jedi," Ahsoka sternly interrupted. "Our enemy knows your face, and they'll certainly be looking for you. But Sabine is still fairly unknown, and there's a good chance they won't know her on sight like they'll know you."

"I was a cadet in the Imperial Academy on Mandalore for many years," Sabine quietly offered, her eyes averted and hesitation in her voice that suggested she was ashamed of it. "I knows their procedure and protocols, I can blend in with the rest of the cadets there. It won't be hard for me to remain undetected."

"In a place like Skystrike that drawn from experienced recruits, that knowledge will be invaluable," Ahsoka said. "We wouldn't be sending her if we didn't believe there was a good chance for her to succeed."

"Y-yeah, but-"

"Do you not trust Sabine?" Kanan asked calmly, and Ezra bit his tongue, his face flashing hot with embarrassment.

"I do! Of course I do, I just-"

"Then trust her," Kanan said. "She says she can do it. Have faith in her abilities that she can."

"We'll have a small team nearby to provide backup when she needs it," Ahsoka quickly cut in, giving Ezra a reassuring smile. "She's going to need assistance to escape with the defectors. A lot can go wrong out there."

"How are we even planning on getting them all out?" Zeb asked cautiously. "If this is an elite starfighter academy, it's going to be filled with very, very good pilots and a lot of starfighters for them to fly. Seems to me like escaping from a place like that won't be easy."

"You said it yourself, Zeb," Hera said, a wry smirk on her lips. "It's an academy. It won't just be all simulations, they're going to have to take to the air for practical experience. When they do, Sabine can call us in and we'll come to pick up her and the defectors." She nodded at Sabine. "At Sabine's discretion, of course. She'll get a feel for what's going on in there and adjust the plan accordingly."

"We're still going to have to deal with a lot of fire from a lot of TIEs," Luke said, drawing the attention of all those around the table despite the soft tone of his voice. "These are elite pilots, and an effective squadron can easily take out one of our cruisers, and that's to say nothing about the fact that every second our new recruits are out there increases the chances of them being destroyed. We need a ship big enough and strong enough to withstand a substantial attack long enough to get the pilots loaded up and escape."

"That's easy enough," Leia lazily drawled with a wry smirk and a roll of her eyes. "We take the Subjugator."

"Kenobi's Star Destroyer?" Ezra nearly shouted, his jaw slack as he stared at the smirking girl. "You want to take Kenobi's Star Destroyer?"

"A ship big enough to withstand a substantial attack, with it's own squadron of fighters, room in the hangar for our new pilots, and more than enough to create confusion and chaos among the Imperials." Leia pressed her fingers together and leaned forward, a dastardly grin upon her face. "We haven't utilized the Star Destroyer yet, and it's big and brash enough to not be expected. We want to keep things unpredictable for Thrawn, don't we?"

"It's crazy enough to work," Ahsoka said slowly. "Think you can handle it, Sabine?"

"Do you even need to ask?" the Mandalorian drawled, leaning back in her chair and linking her hands behind her head.

"I'll get K-2SO to draw up some fake credentials. Leia, Luke, Kanan and Ezra will be aboard the Subjugator to cover you." Ahsoka turned to the Twi'lek at her side. "Since you're so keen on completing that supply run to Teralov, Hera, take Zeb and get it done." Ahsoka quickly raised her hand to silence Leia when she began to speak, and the teenager reluctantly shut her mouth. "I have heard your concerns, Leia, but I trust Hera enough to know she will get the job done right, and you should as well."

"I-I know," Leia snapped, harsher than she meant to. "I do, I just..." She sighed, leaned back in her seat and pinched the bridge of her nose. "We've lost a lot of people this week. I don't want Father to wake up and find himself in an unwinnable situation. He just escaped from one trap. I don't want him trapped in another."

"I've known your Father a long time, Leia," Ahsoka said gently. "I've seen him pull victory out of defeat more times that I'd like. Believe me, when the odds are against him, Obi-Wan Kenobi's at his best." Leia bit down on her lip, silent for a moment before she gave Ahsoka a slight nod, and the Togruta laid her hand on her datapad, clearing the screen and shutting off the holofield. "Alright, rebels. Let's get this mission started."

---

Sabine passed through Skystrike's security with no issue, and she pocketed the fake credentials and willed her rapidly beating heart to slow as she followed the group of new cadets to the orientation briefing. K-2SO had fussed the entire time he was creating the credentials for her and spared no detail in describing exactly how low the odds of this ruse were of working, at how advanced Imperial security was because it was constantly being modified and updated, and how she was certainly going to be found out, captured, and executed. But the former Imperial security droid had been programmed to know those systems well, and at the end of the day, K2 had done good work, and she was admitted into Skystrike without question.

The orientation hall was filled when her group filed in, not just with new recruits, but with experienced cadets, officers and instructors, the entire space buzzing with nervous and excited whispers that instantly set Sabine on edge. Something was going on, something out of the ordinary, and listening in on the conversations of other cadets as she passed them only revealed that they knew as little as she did.

The room silenced immediately when a group of sharply dressed officers stepped on to an elevated platform, the academy's Commandant among them, as well as the all too familiar ISB Agent Kallus, and Sabine repressed a groan when she saw the man. His presence was an irritation, an indication that the Empire caught word of dissension among the ranks here at Skystrike, but in truth, for as many times as they had slipped through the agent's grasp, he was little more than an inconvenience to be avoided.

Things fell apart quickly once the Commandant began speaking.

"Cadets," the Commandant began proudly, his hands folded behind his back and his chest swelling. "We are being honored with a visit from Imperial High Command." The hairs on the back of Sabine's neck stood on end as she watched another Imperial officer enter, flanked by two Death Troopers, the officer's uniform a very non-standard white, his rank plaque impressive and unlike any Sabine had ever seen. She hardly noticed that she had stopped breathing as she stared at the blue skinned alien.

"Grand Admiral Thrawn," the Commandant continued, "is here to assess the cadets and officers here at Skystrike for the skills and aptitude to be involved in a top secret Imperial project." He rose his hand when an excited buzz rose from among the crowd, and silence slowly fell once again. "Anyone, regardless of rank, age, or experience may possess the qualities he is looking for, and I am certain each of you will put forth your best effort to show the Grand Admiral exactly what Skystrike Academy had to offer."

Another officer stepped forward and began addressing the group, but Sabine had stopped listening, the entirety of her focus on the Grand Admiral standing still and silent between his guards as sharp, glowing eyes carefully surveyed the crowd. She needed to find a way to contact Kanan as soon as possible and warn him. With Thrawn's presence, the entire plan had been derailed. They had suspected a trap, had known that he would likely be watching their movements, but none of them expected the incredible bad luck of having him personally overseeing Skystrike.

With Thrawn here, it would be damn near impossible to locate the defecting cadets, the additional scrutiny that came with the presence of a member of the Naval High Command no doubt enough to silence dissenting voices for fear of being caught. Did Thrawn somehow know there were cadets wishing to defect to the rebels? If a Fulcrum agent discovered that information, surely the Imperials could have as well. Was that the true purpose of this visit? Was he here to root out treasonous pilots, or use them to lure in the Phoenix Squadron, knowing they would come because they were desperate for pilots after their recent losses?

Sabine frowned. Or was he actually here recruiting for some secret project? That was, perhaps, and even more distressing notion than knowing she had walked so eagerly into a trap. Was this project the one that Kenobi and Ahsoka had been so fixated on for so long? Or worse, was this something different, something new, something even worse? Whatever it was, they needed to know, and if she wasn't able to identify and rescue the cadets she was sent to find, she could, at the very least, gather what information she could about this secret project. So long as she kept her head down, she was just like any other cadet here. He could stay hidden and get lost among the others.

The officers continued talking, their speeches seamlessly becoming the orientation for the new recruits as the seasoned cadets and officers filed out of the hall, though Thrawn remained, a silent observer as the Commandant boasted and bragged and put forward his best effort to impress the Grand Admiral, a thing that got the gathered recruits wrapped up in the excitement of being there. It had gone on longer than Sabine would have liked, but eventually, they were split into groups and led out by a young officer to be taken to their quarters, and casting a final glance back at Thrawn, she silently followed her assigned group, listening to the excited chatter around her.

They eventually made it to the barracks, and Sabine threw her pack onto a bunk in the room she would be sharing with five other girls, each of them reminding Sabine a bit too much of herself when she had first entered the Imperial Academy of Mandalore, ambitious and eager to prove themselves. She took her time unpacking her belongings, a few regulation issue flight suits and a Naval cadet uniform for off-duty hours, the standard, accepted gear for new recruits, and already she could feel restlessness settling in as she looked at the bland uniform, each the same as every other. It was a small part of why she had left the Empire to begin with, her own eclectic style and artistic soul smothered by Imperial efforts to crush individuality for conformity.

Promising her bunkmates that she would join them shortly in the mess hall, Sabine waited for a few minutes in silence after they had left, checking for security cameras and audio recorders and listening carefully at the shuffling and conversations in the halls fade from an excited buzz to muffled quiet before she opened the chest at the foot of her bunk, reached into the breast pocket of one of her flight suits, and pulled out her encoded comlink. Taking a deep breath as she tuned and cloaked the comlink's frequency, Sabine tried to get a grasp on what it is she'd tell Kanan, how best to warn him of the danger that lurked so very close by, but by the time the Jedi answered, her careful plan immediately fell apart.

"Thrawn's here!" Sabine blurted out in a quiet hiss, her heart suddenly leaping in her chest, her calm focus breaking into a swell of sudden anxiety for having finally given voice to the threat that now oversaw Skystrike. "They said he's here recruiting for some secret project and I saw him, Kanan!"

For a long while, Kanan was silent, only the static of the open connection heard over the comlink, and the nervous tension Sabine was feeling peaked, the little device shaking in her grasp despite her best efforts. Swallowing hard, she took hold of her previous confidence, taking deep, calming breaths to remind herself that they had recently faced Thrawn's forces and escaped, that for all the years he had been watching Obi-Wan, he had failed to successfully catch the Shadow King. Still, she could not banish her apprehension. He was dangerous, Ahsoka had said, and while he had lost the only direct confrontation with the Spectres, he cast an intimidating shadow, and it was enough to make Sabine fear him.

"What project?" Kanan finally asked, calm and composed, and Sabine let go a breath she didn't realize she was holding, her hand running through her hair, recently dyed her natural black for the mission.

"I don't know, they didn't say," Sabine whispered. "You need to get out of here, Kanan. If Thrawn doesn't know you're out there now, he's gonna know real soon, if he's half as smart as Ahsoka seems to think. A Star Destroyer isn't exactly subtle."

"We're a jump away from the Montross system," Kanan quietly explained, just as calm as before. "Far enough that we won't be detected by any long range scanners. We're fine, and we're not leaving without you. Can you complete the mission?"

"Kanan, it's too-"

"Can you complete the mission?" Kanan asked again, and Sabine closed her eyes, her teeth grinding together as the muscles in her back and shoulders bunched together.

"Yes..." Sabine said through clenched teeth. "Yes, I can complete the mission, but it's going to take time. More time than I thought. Thrawn's presence in the Academy's got everyone on edge, our...friends are going to be more cautious than usual."

"With good reason..." Kanan muttered. "If we got word that Skystrike cadets are looking to defect, it's pretty reasonable to assume others heard about it too. You can bet Thrawn isn't just there for a singular purpose. Although..." The Jedi paused, a thoughtful silence hanging between them, and Sabine couldn't help but smile. She could almost see the Jedi stroking his chin as he thought. "I'm interested in what this project of his is. Keep your ears open, see of you can't find out anything about it."

"I will," Sabine promised. "You might want to reconsider our escape plan. I didn't see it when they shuttled us in, but if the Chimaera's in orbit, well...that could complicate things."

"We'll be sure to scout ahead," Kanan said, his voice becoming distant for a moment as he turned away from the com and issued the scouting order to Luke. "Thanks for the warning. You be careful down there."

"Promise, dad, I will," Sabine said with a roll of her eyes, feeling a great deal better for having spoken to Kanan. Shutting off the com and tucking it back inside its hiding place, Sabine straightened her hair and left the room to go join the others in the mess hall.

---

"This is TIE SS36, on patrol at point 149, awaiting wingman," Sabine said in a clipped drawl, her hands grasped loosely around the flight controls. Simulated flight exercises were standard practice, a chance to give cadets a feel of being inside a TIE Fighter without actually going up into the air and putting expensive equipment in the hands of untested students, but after a few days of hours upon hours of running through the training and procedural cycles, Sabine was beginning to get bored. Between formation drills, escort assignments, brief dogfights with underwhelming malcontents, and an unbroken string of protocol and procedure, there was little to catch the girl's interest.

Since that first day, she hadn't seen any sign of Thrawn and she hadn't been able to find out anything about that project of his, though his hand could certainly be felt in her otherwise monotonous routine, the cadets and officers still buzzing with ambitions excitement, even a week later. It was just enough that she had been unable to discover who among her many, many peers were looking to leave, though it was possible that she simply hadn't come across them yet. There were hundreds of training groups here at Skystrike, and while she had interacted with a good number of them during her classes, combat training and simulated flights, there were many, many more she hadn't even encountered yet.

"Copy that, 36. This is TIE SS25," a male voice said over her intercom, her flight partner for this exercise finally entering the simulation, his TIE appearing on the screen in space before her. "You can call me Wedge. What's your name, cadet?"

Wedge? A slow, sly grin crossed Sabine's face, her hands tightening around the controls as she moved her TIE to fly beside her partner's. In the time she had been here, this was the first time she had seen any sign of individuality, any break from protocol, and during an observed training session, no less. They would certainly be reprimanded for this, but Wedge had her attention.

"I'm Ria Talla," Sabine answered quickly before the supervising officer had a chance to shut down the conversation, and sure enough, a second later, the disgruntled officer's voice came over the com.

"Don't break protocol, com numbers only," the stern, clipped accent said, and in the safety of her helmet, Sabine grinned, the accent just close enough to Kenobi's own aristocratic drawl that she couldn't help but imagine how different it would be to have devious Obi-Wan trying to teach these uptight Imperials. It would certainly be more fun.

"Copy that, command," Wedge immediately replied, relaxed and easy, and with the cadets back in line, the commanding officer gave them their mission parameters, intercept rebel ships that had crossed into the Imperial sector, the most interesting simulation Sabine had to date. With a quick acknowledgment from Wedge, Sabine fell in behind them as they made their way to the given coordinates and quickly found the targeted ships. Four Y-Wings, much like the ones that they had stolen from Reklam Station, and Sabine couldn't help the sudden tightening in her stomach as she wondered if this was a standard simulation, or if the Imperials had adjusted their training programs based on Phoenix Squadron's activities.

With a swift word from the commander to eliminate all targets, Sabine and Wedge moved to follow the command, the two flying in close formation as they approached the heavily armed ships. The com remained open between them, the two constantly trading information on the attacking ships and adjusting their strategy accordingly, keeping each other covered while they launched an offensive against the four ships. They were outnumbered, but Sabine was quick to realize that Wedge wasn't only proving to be a good teammate, but he was also a great pilot.

Falling in behind the Y-Wings, she and Wedge finally split when the rebel ships separated into pairs, and falling in behind them, Sabine opened fire, destroying one and evading the debris with a slight pull of the control yoke as she followed her remaining one.

"Good kill, 36," Wedge said, his own TIE flying past her field of vision, and with a frown, Sabine looked at her scanner and saw that the other pilot had already destroyed both his targets.

"Oh, one more and we're even, 25," Sabine said, her hands tightening around the controls as she pushed the ship forward faster, her heart beating faster with the thrill of competition. She liked this Wedge. They were going to have to have a talk after this simulation was over. She had a good feeling about him, and was willing to bet that TIE Pilot SS 25 was one of the hopeful rebels that she had been looking to recruit.

"36 and 25," the commander said as soon as Sabine had destroyed the final Y-Wing. "Proceed to the transmitted coordinates and destroy the rebel vessel located there." Pulling the TIEs around, Sabine and Wedge flew toward the new coordinates, sacrificing caution for speed as they made their way quickly toward the next rebel ship, though they both pulled back on the yoke when they saw the ship hanging dead in space before them, smoke billowing from the rear thrusters. The moment's hesitation slowed them significantly, and when they approached the ship, it was cautiously, Sabine's eyes glued to the monitors and readings around her. This was a test, she was certain, but she didn't know yet how best to proceed.

"No power readings..." Sabine muttered quietly. "It's disabled." Her com bursted with static, a high pitched whine sounding for a moment as she picked up the unstable signal, and again, her TIE slowed with her hesitation.

"Please, do not fire, we surrender!" a frantic voice said over the com, the voice broken with static, but the fear was palpable. "We're heavily damaged and have wounded aboard. Repeat, we surrender!"

"Destroy the vessel as ordered," the commander said, calm and cold, and Sabine's jaw clenched. It was just a simulation, she knew, but it was programs like this that trained young Imperial soldiers to mindlessly commit murder at a command, and Sabine was never one to blindly follow orders. Not after her own service to the Empire on Mandalore.

"But Imperial protocol is to board-"

"Destroy the vessel as ordered, 36!" the commander swiftly interrupted, his tone harsh and angered with her defiance, and Sabine hissed in irritation, her hands tightening around the yoke, and looked out to see Wedge's TIE and noticed that he hadn't moved to destroy the vessel either.

"Is breaking protocol part of the test?" Sabine mumbled under her breath to herself, but the helmet's sensitive speakers picked up the sound.

"What was that, 36?" the commander demanded.

"Um, com malfunction, sir." Wedge said swiftly before Sabine had the chance to respond herself, and Sabine looked over to the TIE beside her, letting out a soft sigh of relief and feeling a smile creep upon her face. That settled the matter for her. Wedge was her rebel, and he could certainly take her to the others. The mission was as good as over, and not a moment too soon. She was getting restless, and it would be good to be back home.

"Hold on," the commander said quickly, the matter of the disabled freighter all but forgotten with the presence of something new. "New target, coming in at point 17." Looking out her viewport, Sabine saw the new target immediately, a rebel ship flying swiftly out from behind the damaged ship, and a cold pit instantly formed in her stomach as dreaded recognition slammed into her. It was the Ghost, clear as day, cutting through space swiftly and gracefully like Hera herself was piloting it. An Imperial training simulation was the absolute last place Sabine expected to see the ship she called home, and the shock, for just a moment, paralyzed her into inaction.

"Look out!" she finally managed to shout, too little, too late as she watched Wedge's TIE explode in a burst of flame and debris, and in the next moment, the Ghost was upon her, its powerful forward cannons firing at her, and her screen flashed white as she was struck and her own starfighter was destroyed.

"Simulation complete," the commander said over the com as the cockpit filled with the low whine of the pod powering down. "Cadets, exit your pods. Deport for debriefing." Sabine took a deep breath to calm her racing heart and willed herself to banish the shaking in her hands as the pod settled back into its mount. She recovered quickly, eased effortlessly back into a neutral state, and when fear and shock had worn off, she turned toward irritation toward how the entire simulation went. Being ordered to fire upon a surrendering ship had gotten to her, and nearly as much as that, this was the first simulated test that Sabine had failed, and her competitive nature took offense at the loss.

The hatch opened, and she climbed out of the TIE cockpit and on to the boarding ladder, and when her feet touched the ground, she took her helmet from her head, a scowl on her face as she marched to the briefing table, Wedge close at her side. He said nothing, though Sabine could tell that he was tense, and while he looked properly disappointed for how the simulation went, an expected reaction for an Imperial cadet, there was a certain grimness to him that did not escape her notice.

"What kind of rebel ship was that?" Sabine asked the officers standing around the briefing table, irritation in her voice despite her best efforts. "That was no transport!"

"Ah, but you are wrong, cadet," one of the flight instructors said in a strong, commanding voice, his hands folded behind his back as he stood straight and tall, sharp eyes carefully observing the two cadets. "That was a rebel transport, called the Ghost, which has been modified for combat. The rebels are a desperate group of extremists. They'll fight with any ship, using any means necessary to undermine our authority." He took a menacing step toward Wedge and Sabine, his intimidating presence looming above them, and Sabine could feel defiance tightly grip her. "That is why orders must be followed without question. Insubordination like yours will get you and your wingman killed. Understood?"

"Yes sir." Wedge said quietly, but Sabine stayed silent, biting back the retort on her tongue by keeping her mouth shut, but the instructor was having none of it, his eyes fixed on the Mandalorian.

"Understood, cadet?" he asked again, and this time, Sabine looked up at the man, unable to conceal the bold defiance in her eyes.

"Yes sir," Sabine ground out, and much to her relief, the instructor was satisfied with that, turning away from the two of them to return to the briefing table to give other pairs of cadets notes on their own simulations. Sabine didn't follow, instead looked down at the flight helmet she held tightly between her hands and quietly wondered how many others ran the same simulation as she did, and how many others fired upon the transport without question.

"I see you don't just take risks while your flying." Sabine looked up quickly and found Wedge beside her, his expression as grim as before, though there was something else in him that she couldn't quite place. She suspected that he was one of the pilots she was looking for, and now, she had the opportunity to confirm that.

"Well, I trust my gut," she said quietly, laying a hand over her chest, "and I know right from wrong."

"I respect that," Wedge replied, his features darkening as he began to return to the group of cadets at the briefing table. "A lot of people here won't." It was enough, and as Sabine followed the boy back to the group, she began planning for a way to get them out of there as quickly as possible. Skystrike sent students up in TIEs for actual flight experience on a regular basis. If she could get Wedge and his friends up in the air with her, she could call in her backup and they could make their escape. Provided there wasn't a Star Destroyer hanging over the Academy, a quick extraction wouldn't be too difficult to pull off, but if they weren't so lucky and the Chimaera just so happened to be in orbit, well...

Thrawn hadn't found her yet. If she had to wait for the Grand Admiral to depart, she would.

"Cadets, back in your pods," the commander ordered. "Keep your current wingman. We'll run a new simulation and see if you learned from your previous mistakes." With a chorus of acknowledgments, the cadets in the group split up into their pairs and headed back to their pods, and Sabine fell in beside Wedge as they crossed the short way from the briefing table to the boarding ladders, the round TIE cockpits sitting open and ready for their pilots.

"Watch yourself in there," Wedge whispered to Sabine just before she began climbing up the ladder. "You know they're going to be keeping an eye on you. Don't do something stupid."

"Yeah," Sabine said with a sigh, putting her helmet on her head and grabbing the rung of the ladder. "I won't." With a small smile cast in her direction, Wedge didn't say another word as he put his helmet on and climbed up into the pod, and Sabine climbed up her own ladder and dropped into the cockpit, immediately initiating the pre-flight sequences that sealed the cockpit and initiated the simulation.

"Initializing the simulation," the commander said as stars scattered across her screen, a large, red planet in the distance and an Imperial Star Destroyer looming above her. Off to her side, she could see Wedge's TIE materialize, and she grasped hold of the yoke, ready to get the simulation underway and eager to make up for her previous error.

"SS25 and SS36, your mission is simple," the commander droned. "Rebel insurgents have captured an Imperial depot on one of the moons of the nearby planet. You are to accompany-"

The transmission cut, and the screen before her shut off, leaving Sabine in the dark cockpit and staring at a blank screen, and she gave the control console an experimental tap to see if she had somehow lost power. The switches and buttons responded as they were supposed to, and Sabine frowned and tapped her helmet.

"Uh, hello?" Sabine said cautiously. "This is SS36, I think a power surge knocked me out of the simulation."

"I'm out of the simulation too," Wedge's voice came over her com, and Sabine breathed a sigh of relief to hear him before the nerves crept back, making her shift uncomfortably in her seat as she sat in the dark, silent cockpit.

"Cadet Antilles and Cadet Talla," a calm, monotonous voice said over the com, not the voice of the commander or the imperious flight instructor, but a new man, the even tone chilling and devoid of any inflection, and Sabine found herself holding her breath as she intently listened to the new voice. "This is Grand Admiral Thrawn. I have aborted your assigned simulation and am issuing you a new one."

For a long moment, Sabine was silent, her jaw slack as she stared blankly at the dark screen before her, a creeping chill slowly making its way up her spine. Did Thrawn know? Had she somehow been found out? Certainly she couldn't have been the only cadet to fail a simulation or to question the instructors, so why was he here now? The smallest flicker of hope sparked in her chest, and Sabine swallowed hard and tightly gripped the yoke. Maybe, just maybe, Thrawn didn't know. Maybe she had him fooled. Maybe he was here because he was looking for something other than mindless obedience for that project of his. Maybe this was her chance to find out exactly what that project is.

"Uh...is there something wrong, Admiral?" Sabine stuttered, feeling stupid for how nervous her voice sounded to her, though she suspected that was to be expected from a cadet. It was normal for young recruits to be nervous around high officers, and a Grand Admiral was certainly the highest ranking official anyone in Skystrike had encountered, short of the Emperor himself, though she didn't think good old Palpatine left Coruscant to visit flight schools.

"Not at all," Thrawn responded in that flat, expressionless voice. "Your previous simulation was designed to test your adherence to strict orders in the face of uncertainty. I wish to observe...something else." Before Sabine had the opportunity to object, reluctant to be thrown into Thrawn's game, the screen before her flashed on, the black monitor becoming peppered with stars as the new simulation was loaded.

"Obedience," Thrawn's voice said calmly through the com, "must be instant and complete. Such automatic response relies on trust between the commander and the commanded. You have experienced the results of your hesitation in the previous simulation. A commander may choose to share the details of their plan. Often, they may not, but in either case, obedience is necessary."

"Sir, I won't fail again, I-"

"I have already observed your faith in your commanders, Cadet Talla," Thrawn quietly interrupted. "I would now observe your actions when you are deprived of your command." The screen began to change as the simulation was loaded, a beautiful blue and green planet materializing large in the viewport before her before walls closed in around them, the projection of a Star Destroyer's hangar was built up around them, pilots and mechanics attending the other TIEs frozen in time as they waited for the Admiral to begin the simulation.

"What's our mission, Admiral?" Wedge asked, and Sabine nearly jumped in her seat. He had been so silent, and she had been so focused on Thrawn that she had forgotten that he was there as well.

"This is Bandomeer," Thrawn said, the even pitch of his voice somehow becoming more commanding. "Rebel insurgents have captured a heavily armed Imperial mining facility down on the surface. The rebels are armed and dangerous, and in addition to Imperial forces, there are civilian workers trapped inside the facility with the rebels."

"Have they taken hostages?" Wedge asked.

"The status of the civilians is unknown," Thrawn replied. "The rebels have attacked the facility at multiple points, and it has created chaotic conditions. They have disabled the compound's security systems, so the information we are receiving from the forces on the ground is unreliable. Your mission is to aid the ISD Malevolence in recapturing the facility."

"Understood, Admiral," Wedge said, his voice filled with determination and resolve. "You ready, Ria?"

"Y-yeah..." Sabine said quietly, willing herself to calm her pounding heart, but it wasn't working, and she was certain that fear came across in the slight shaking of her voice.

"Good fortune, cadets," Thrawn said, and in the next moment, the scene before them came alive, pilots rushing to climb into their TIEs and mechanics quickly finishing their checks as the Star Destroyer prepared for battle, their helmet coms coming alive with barked orders from command and the swift check-ins from the other pilots. The hangar doors opened up, the blue environment shield covering the open entrance into space, and the TIE Fighters around them rose and swarmed out of the hangar, Wedge and Sabine waiting for their departure clearance before they too followed the rest of the fighters into space and rocketed toward the given coordinates of the occupied facility.

Sabine flew in tight formation with Wedge, her jaw clenched tightly and her hands gripping the yoke so hard her forearms burned. This wasn't just a simulation, this was a recreation of a real battle, one Sabine recognized instantly, though now, in the cockpit of a TIE Fighter, she was seeing it from a different point of view. She knew this battle because she had been there, and though she hadn't been in the air, she had been down on the ground inside the facility to capture one of two powerful ion cannons the complex possessed to defend itself from frequent pirate raids. She knew this fight, knew what was about to happen, and she grimly wondered if Thrawn knew that.

The question now, of course, was what it was Thrawn was looking for. What was he hoping to see by putting them through this simulation? Was this a trap, an exercise meant to confirm what he already knew? Or was this an unlucky coincidence, the costly Imperial loss at rebel hands an ideal test of the qualities he was looking for in the recruits for his project? Or was it something else entirely, something she had no ability to understand? She didn't know, and that was the worst thing at all. Without any idea of what the Admiral was looking for to inform her decision on how to act, all she could do was act the good little Imperial and do her best to pass this simulation, and that would have to be good enough.

Listening to the frenetic commands of the commander barking a continuous stream of orders in her ear, Sabine broke formation when the target appeared and had to quickly wrench the yoke sideways to avoid a barrage of red laser fire from an enemy ship, one that Sabine didn't recognize, but knew it to belong to Hera's wingman during this fight, the Mandalorian Boba Fett. Spinning her TIE to avoid the falling debris of four destroyed starfighters, Sabine reoriented herself, checked to be certain that Wedge was with her, and tersely acknowledged the commander when he ordered her squadron to execute an attack run on the facility below.

Their rush to the facility on the ground was quickly aborted when a flash of green light gave them only a fraction of a second of warning before a wide, green beam shot up from the facility and lanced through the sky, taking out a long line of TIE fighters that didn't react quick enough or simply didn't see the warning signs of the attack. Despite herself, Sabine couldn't help but smirk as she deftly spun out of the way, the energy beam only just missing her, green light flooding her cockpit as she flipped around. She had fired that weapon during the actual assault on Bandomeer. She had no idea it had been so destructive.

"Was that an ion cannon?!" Wedge gasped into the com, his own TIE spinning to fall in beside hers. "The rebels have captured an ion cannon?!" A second beam fired, and Wedge and Sabine pulled up hard and fast, flipping upside down as they looped and spinning out of the flip to pull up higher into the sky.

"Looks like they have two ion cannons," Sabine said wryly, earning a tight laugh from Wedge, a tense, nervous thing that couldn't quite conceal the boy's excitement.

"This just keeps getting better, doesn't it?" Wedge asked flippantly, his own TIE settling into formation beside Sabine's. "We're going to have to take those out if we want to have a chance at winning this thing. If we can neutralize the insurgents, we might be able to get a team down to rescue the civilians."

"I was thinking the same thing," Sabine said, shooting her TIE higher into the sky before she took a sharp turn and dove for the right ion cannon. "Shore up with me for an attack run, Wedge, let's get this thing done."

"Right with you, Ria."

Together, they closed in on the complex, their TIEs screaming as they sliced through the air, the two pilots deftly avoiding another blast from the ion cannons and promptly responding to the commander as he barked orders over the com system, the same orders as before, along with the assurance the reenforcements were on the way. Just before they got within firing range of the ion cannons, Sabine's console blared with warning alarms, her scanners frantically warning her that her ship had been locked on to, and hissing a curse under her breath, she pulled up hard, her ship spinning out of the way just as red laser fire shot past her viewport, and as she spun out of the way, she managed to catch sight of the Ghost.

"What?" Wedge gasped, his TIE exiting its own spin and taking evasive actions to fall in to cover Sabine, both their ships flying high up above the complex, the Ghost in close pursuit of Sabine as Wedge tried and failed to fall behind the rebel ship, not another TIE Fighter in sight. "We had four entire squadrons of fighters out here, how could they all have been destroyed by two ships?!"

"Must be a hell of a pilot..." Sabine said between clenched teeth, throwing the accelerator back to rapidly decrease her TIE's speed, allowing the Ghost to shoot past her as she fell in next to Wedge, and the two immediately fell into attack formation. They were forced to break off the attack not a second later when the other rebel ship caught them from behind, and breaking off from each other, Sabine once again found herself being pursued by the Ghost.

"We're never going to be able to complete this run so long as these two ships are dogging us!" Wedge snapped. "Command, we need to abort the mission and retreat until reenforcements arrive!" For the first time since the simulation began, the com was silent, and cursing quietly, Wedge tried to call command again, only to be met with more silence.

"Looks like we're on our own..." Sabine said tersely as she took a sharp turn in an effort to get behind the Ghost, only for the rebel ship to almost effortlessly follow and keep on her tail, forcing her to take a random, almost frantic course through the air as she evaded the shots fired at her.

"What the hell is going on up there?!" Wedge snapped, flying his TIE right between Sabine and the Ghost, and both pursuing rebel ships were forced to pull off the attack to keep from colliding into each other, giving the Imperial cadets a brief chance to return to their formation. "I know what our orders are, but-"

"Given the circumstances, those orders are idiotic," Sabine growled. "Yeah, I agree. We need to retreat and regroup. We can't take back the facility if we're dead."

"And something's definitely wrong at command," Wedge muttered, following Sabine's TIE as they raced high up into Bandomeer's atmosphere, away from the complex and back toward the Malevolence. "We can't do anything here, but we might be able to help up there."

"Right. Let's get this done, Wedge."

The two rebel ships peeled off their pursuit, allowing Sabine and Wedge to escape to safety, and after a few minutes, they had cleared the atmosphere and entered the blackness of space, and were immediately faced with yet another battle. Swarms of TIE Fighters from the newly arrived reenforcements filled the air, the blackness of space filled with bursts of green laser fire and more powerful plasma charges from the Star Destroyer's ion cannons. Two Interdictor cruisers and hung above Bandomeer, the reenforcements that had been promised, and as they drew closer to the battle, Wedge's TIE hesitated, hanging back cautiously as he realized what Sabine already knew.

The Imperials were fighting each other.

"What the hell is going on here..." Wedge muttered as he pulled up beside Sabine once again. "Are they...are they attacking our ship?!"

"Well, that's what it looks like..."

"Could rebels have infiltrated the Malevolence?" Wedge asked.

"That, or our reenforcements aren't actually Imperial," Sabine muttered, and she could hear Wedge quietly groan.

"...what do we do?"

"I-I don't know..." Sabine stammered. "This looks to me like a lose-lose situation, I don't think there's any winning here."

"I think you're right..." Wedge muttered, his TIE shooting past Sabine's as he took off toward the newly arrived Star Destroyers. "Let's try to get in contact with the command of the other ships, if we could-"

Wedge was suddenly cut off and Sabine watched in horror as his TIE was engulfed in a flash of light as it exploded, and she quickly tore away from her course to avoid the debris of the destroyed TIE, her eyes darting to her scanners to find...nothing at all, no ships in range, no stray fire, not anything that could have destroyed her wingman's ship. This threat was invisible, and just as Sabine realized what she was up against, just as she, for the briefest moment saw the sleek black ship materialize before her, her screen flashed white before the pod's power died, leaving her in darkness, the simulation ended when the stealth ship Umbra destroyed her.

When the pod settled in its base and the hatch unlocked, Sabine hoisted herself out of the seat with a sigh and climbed out of the cockpit, descending the ladder to find Wedge already waiting for her, his helmet tucked under his arm and a sheepish smile on his face. She was nervous, she could tell, and he had good reason to be. They didn't preform badly in the simulation, all things considered, but being under the scrutiny of the Grand Admiral had them both on edge. No doubt their instructors would be displeased with them, for their informality over the com, their failure to keep to their orders, their retreat from the two rebel ships, or a hundred other things, but neither of them knew what Thrawn would think, and they both knew that a single word from the man could be the end of them.

"Well...how do you think we did?" Wedge asked quietly as Sabine took her helmet off and tucked it under her arm.

"As good as we could have..." Sabine mumbled, the two of them slowly beginning to shuffle toward the briefing table where the instructors stood, their arms crossed and hard expressions upon their faces."I don't suppose they're gonna agree."

"What do you suppose they're most angry about?" Wedge asked, a slight smirk on his lips as he glanced at Sabine out of the corner of his eye. "I think it's that we turned tail and ran from rebel ships."

"Really?" Sabine asked wryly. "I think it's gonna be our disregard for our com numbers." Wedge snorted to stifle his laughter as they reached the table, the instructors red faced and glaring at the two cadets, and Sabine had to bite down on her tongue to keep from laughing herself.

"Do you think this is funny, cadets?" the commander sneered, stepping slowly toward them, his shoulders tight with anger and menace. "Is this a game to you? These may just be simulations, but the wrong move in a real situation will get you killed, and you two have had more than enough failure today!"

"We did the best we could given the circumstances, sir," Wedge began. "But there was no winning that simulation, we-"

"If that is the best you can do," the commander said in a low, dangerous voice, "than you two do not belong at Skystrike."

"I disagree." There it was again, that calm, monotonous voice, and Sabine instinctively drew up, her breath held and her shoulders tense as she saw glowing red eyes in the darkness, and a moment later, stepping into the holographic light of the briefing table, was Thrawn, the instructors and commanders snapping to attention and stepping away to give him space, though Sabine could see anger and displeasure and offense on the commander's face.

"A warrior's life is built upon obedience and leadership," Thrawn continued. "A balance of both is necessary to be successful in the field of battle, and while your students are quick to obey, their leadership qualities are...lacking." He gestured to Sabine and Wedge. "Cadets Antillies and Talla have demonstrated initiative when deprived of their command. Such actions should be enforced, not reprimanded."

"They retreated!" the commander sputtered, outraged and insulted, and fell silent quickly when the Chiss' gaze flicked to him briefly.

"The only sensible course of action," Thrawn said calmly, his fingers running briefly over the controls of the briefing table, and the holographic field flashed with the mission report of Sabine and Wedge's simulation, the bold declaration of Mission Failure printed neatly in red at the top of the report. They felt themselves bristle, could feel the angry glared of the instructors and commanders upon them, and despite herself, Sabine felt herself looking to calm, emotionless Thrawn to soothe her nerves.

"Do you have any questions, cadets?" Thrawn quietly asked, and for a moment, Sabine and Wedge said nothing, the hard looks of the other Imperial officers making them hold their tongues, their luck already pressed enough that day as it was. But Thrawn didn't move, didn't speak, only looked at Sabine and Wedge expectantly, waiting patiently for a reply, and beside her, Sabine felt Wedge relax, set at ease by the Chiss, just as she had felt before.

"I don't...understand what happened," Wedge said hesitantly. "When did we lose our Destroyer? Did the rebels have a second team that somehow managed to take it from us? Or..." He paused, biting his lip and looking at the ground for a moment before he turned his gaze back to the Admiral. "Or was that ship always under rebel control? Were we unknowingly fighting for the insurgents?"

"An interesting thought..." Thrawn said, his hands folding behind his back. "I wonder, Cadet Antilles, how would you determine if that were the case?"

"I..." He stopped again, considered the question for a moment, and he shook his head. "I-I don't know." Red eyes turned on Sabine, and she instinctively touched her hip for her blaster, and suddenly felt naked without it. If it were on her, it would have been well worth the consequences for an opportunity to kill this threat to the Phoenix Cell.

"And you, Cadet Talla?" Thrawn asked evenly, and Sabine held her breath, her eyes locked with the Chiss' glowing red.

"It wasn't the case," Sabine said tightly. "The ship was taken during the battle."

"How did you reach this conclusion?" Thrawn asked, and Sabine ground her teeth together, her eyes flicking to the failed mission report in the holofield as she thought for a moment, wondering exactly how much the Admiral knew, since he was not present at this battle.

"The com chatter died halfway through the mission," she said with an indignant huff, her arms crossing over her chest. "And we did encounter rebel resistance at the facility. One of the ships in the air was the same one we saw in our previous simulation."

"An astute observation, Cadet Talla," Thrawn said, inclining his head and looking the two cadets over carefully. "How, then, was the Malevolence captured?"

"...I don't know," Sabine muttered, and beside her, Wedge stood up straighter.

"Could there have been a traitor on the Destroyer?" Wedge asked, frowning as he stroked his chin, and then swiftly shook his head. "No, it seems too improbable for one traitor to be able to take over an entire ship. Something's wrong, something's not adding up..." There was silence for a moment as Wedge waited for the Admiral to fill in the information he was missing, but Thrawn remained silent, motionless as he simply observed. "Maybe..." Wedge hesitantly continued. "Maybe that isn't the right question. Maybe we should be asking ourselves what the rebels were after."

"Maybe it doesn't matter," Sabine grumbled as she leaned in toward the briefing table, her eyes narrowing as she looked at Thrawn through the hologram. "Because that battle was lost before we even got there, wasn't it?"

"Yes, it was," Thrawn said quietly, the pitch of his voice lowering slightly, though it kept it's flat intonation, his fingers moving to brush over the controls of the holographic table, clearing away the mission report and bringing up another file, the information quickly expanding into a detailed report on the actual battle of Bandomeer, and Sabine felt her chest tighten when images of the Spectres appeared around the projected image of the destroyed Malevolence. To her instant relief, her own picture had her in her armor, her face concealed by her helmet, but the information crawls were hidden, their individual files closed, and she wondered exactly what the Empire had on them.

"The simulation is based on a real conflict nearly a year ago with the rebels of an insurgency group called the Phoenix Squadron," Thrawn continued, a flick of his hand bringing up the details of the battle. "This two-pronged assault led to the theft of thousands of credits worth of valuable resources, the destruction of two Interdictor cruisers and severe damage to three reenforcing Star Destroyers before the Malevolence was destroyed, resulting in the deaths of thousands of people."

"So..." Wedge began, his lips pressing together in thought. "This simulation was designed as a test to reverse the outcome of this battle?"

"No," Thrawn said, a quiet finality in his voice as he once again folded his hands behind his back. "As Cadet Talla said, this battle was lost before you arrived. It is, indeed, unwinnable. The outcome of this engagement is the result of a failure of obedience, leadership, and strategy at the command level. At your position within the conflict, it is impossible to achieve victory."

"If the TIE Fighter squadrons did their jobs and initiated a bombing run on the complex," the commander said between clenched teeth, angry and bitter over what was clearly a sore subject, "than the rebels would have been destroyed!"

"At the expense of valuable resources, an instrumental mining and refining institution, and the lives of nearly two hundred civilians trapped inside," Thrawn said coldly, his glowing red eyes narrowing as he looked at the commander. "Even if your pilots successfully destroyed the rebel ships protecting the facility, which they failed to do in your own attempt at the simulation, the Malevolence is still captured and destroyed by the second insurgent team."

"So, what's the point of putting us through an unwinnable simulation?" Sabine asked, and Thrawn looked back at her, regarding her in silence for a moment before he inclined his head.

"The actions chosen in the face of an absolute no-win scenario reveal a great deal about the subject's character, strategy, and aptitude," Thrawn explained respectfully despite the bristling of the instructor's beside him at yet another challenge to authority by this cadet. "Based on your actions in the previous simulation, I was interested to see how you would approach this challenge."

"And did we preform to your expectations, sir?" Wedge asked, and for a long moment, Thrawn was silent, his gaze darting between the two cadets as he studied and analyzed their expressions and the way they stood, a thing that made Sabine shift uncomfortably from foot to foot.

"Your actions are congruent with what I have previously observed," Thrawn said slowly. "The decision to retreat so that a second attack may be launched at a later time with greater strength speaks well of your tactics. Information is a weapon that can make a small force seem like an armada, a thing that is often forgotten by those in positions of greater strength." Brushing his hand across the controls, the holotable switched off, and he briefly inclined his head toward Sabine and Wedge. "I will be watching your progress with great interest, cadets." Without another word, the Admiral turned from the briefing table and walked away, Sabine's eyes fixed on him until that pure white uniform disappeared from view into the darkness of the simulation deck. With the Admiral gone, the instructors turned their eyes on the two cadets that stood before them, and Sabine could practically feel bitterness and offense in the air, the displeasure from having their duties overtaken by their alien superior palpable.

"Dismissed, cadets," one of the instructors hissed, and Sabine and Wedge didn't was a second to turn away from the briefing table and leave the room, their strides long and fast and purposeful in their haste to get away from the officers' scrutiny. They slowed as they stepped out into the starkly lit corridors of the academy, the both of them exhaling breaths they didn't realize they had been holding and pulling the tight flight suit hood off their heads, sly smiles spreading across their faces as they glanced at each other, and finally allowed to relax, the two of them softly began laughing.

"Big day, huh?" Wedge said with a grin when they turned into an empty corridor, their pace slow and relaxed as they ambled through identical industrial halls toward the TIE hangar. "Weird day. Who would have thought we'd get the Admiral's attention."

"He's not like other Imperials, that's for sure," Sabine muttered, smiling brightly as a door hissed open and they stepped out on to the TIE hangar, an open air platform that was bathed in the golden light of Montross' twin setting suns, the dry, warm air carrying the slight hint of oil and ion engines and the crisp scent of the atmosphere. The leaned against the railing of one of the walkways, silent as they stared out into the endless sky, and when she looked up at Wedge, she found the boy's brow furrowed together in thought.

"Something wrong, Wedge?" Sabine quietly asked, and the boy tensed as he swiftly looked at her, as if he had forgotten she was there, and quickly flashed her a reassuring smile.

"No. Why?"

"You just look nervous." Brow furrowing once again, Wedge looked away from her, silent for a moment before he sighed, his shoulders slumping.

"Actually, I've been thinking about what happened in our first simulation today," Wedge quietly confessed, his eyes searching Sabine's face before he decided to continue. "It...didn't sit right with me."

"Me neither," Sabine said swiftly, her heart pounding in her chest with the excitement of being given a real lead from her new friend. "Look, I want to do my part for the Empire, but firing on unarmed ships wasn't what I had in mind." She stopped, bit down on her lip as she looked up at Wedge. "What about you?"

"I was flying cargo ships when the Empire recruited me" Wedge said with a soft chuckle, a fond smile on his lips as he closed his eyes. "At the time, I figured, why not? Seemed a whole lot more exciting than hauling spare parts around the galaxy." His smile wavered, his shoulders hunching forward as he sighed and looked down at the rows of TIE Fighters hanging from their mounts in neat rows beneath them. "But if this is what the Empire's becoming, I don't know..."

"You ever think about getting out?" Sabine asked quietly, and Wedge gave a small, bitter laugh.

"That's...not really possible, is it?" Wedge asked, and a sly smile crossed Sabine's lips.

"Maybe more possible than you realize." Wedge looked at her, his eyebrow arched, and Sabine ran a hand through her hair, and checking that they were alone on the deck, she leaned in closer to him. "I work for the rebel cell, the Phoenix Squadron," she whispered. "I was sent in to get you out."

"So the rebellion did get my message!" Wedge gasped, his eyes wide with excitement and a bright smile spread across his face, and though she felt her heart skip, she calmly raised her hand for caution and drew closer to him.

"Yes, but I heard there were other pilots that want out too," Sabine whispered, and Wedge quickly nodded.

"There are."

"Okay, we need to leave as soon as possible, before the Empire finds out about us," Sabine said in a hushed whisper, looking over her shoulder to make certain they were alone. "Can you get them ready?"

"I'll talk to them," Wedge quietly promised. "What's your plan?"

"They send students up in TIEs for practice dogfights pretty regularly," Sabine said quietly, looking over the railing down at the rows of starfighters. "If we can get on one of those flights together, I've got a team ready to get us out."

"Can they do it?" Wedge asked. "I mean...there's sort of an Imperial big shot here right now keeping a watch on things. Is it safe? Would we be better off waiting until he leaves?"

For a long moment, Sabine was silent, her lips pressed together and her brow furrowed in thought as she looked out at the sky. It was a good question, one that she herself had gone back and forth on since her first day in the academy, and she truly didn't have a good answer for it. On the one hand, Thrawn was dangerous, and every day she stayed there increased her likelihood of being discovered, so getting away as quickly as possible was absolutely imperative.

On the other hand, though, Thrawn hadn't found her out yet, so far as she could tell, and with the Admiral's eyes on her now, it would certainly be safer not to make any moves that would alert him to the rebel under his nose. But even more than that, with Thrawn's attention came the possibility of learning more about his secret project, and knowing what that could be was vital information that their rebel cell needed in order to stay ahead of the cunning Admiral. If she had the opportunity to get that information, she had to take it.

"You saw in the simulation today that Thrawn's got eyes on my rebel cell," Sabine whispered. "He's smart. Too smart. You saw how different he was from the other Imperials here. I think..." she said slowly, biting down on her lip for a moment as she decided on a course of action. "I think it would be a bad idea to give him the chance to find us. We leave, as soon as possible."

"You sure your friends can get us out?" Wedge asked. "The Admiral's just here recruiting for his project, right? Once he's done, he'll leave, and getting out will be easier, right?"

"Maybe so, but..." Sabine groaned slightly as she rolled her eyes and ran her fingers through her hair. "It would be really useful to learn about that project of his."

"And I think we might be in line to be recruited for it," Wedge said, the slightest edge of excitement creeping into his voice.

"I think you might be right..." Sabine muttered, rubbing the back of her neck for a moment as she thought before she felt resolve tightly grip her, Ahsoka's warnings clear in her mind. "But getting close to him means he has a better chance of learning what we are, and he's too dangerous. We...need to retreat to live another day."

"A sound strategy," Wedge said with a slight smirk. "Think the Admiral would approve?"

"In this case, I don't think he will," Sabine said, a cocky smile on her lips as she pushed away from the railing. "Come on. I want to meet your friends."

---

They only needed to wait four days before Sabine, Wedge, and two other defectors, Hobbie and Rake, got on the flight schedule, and as Sabine climbed into the cockpit of her TIE Fighter, she sent a brief message to Kanan, and then they were underway, her TIE screeching through the atmosphere as she followed the squadron in formation up into space, three instructor's in the new TIE Advanced Fighters following them up.

"Squadrons, prepare to break formation," the commander over the com said as they reached their coordinates high above Montross. "You will engage in a simulated dogfight. Your lasers have been nullified, but your hits will still be registered and scored." Inside her TIE, Sabine rolled her eyes. The ships, of course, couldn't be firing real lasers, but it would have been so much easier to escape if she could fight off her pursuers. At the very least, much to her relief, Sabine didn't see any sign of Thrawn's Star Destroyer, which was going to make it much easier for them to get to safety when Kanan arrived in the Subjugator.

"Beginning on my mark," the commander said, the countdown beginning, and when he reached zero, the TIE Fighters peeled off in separate directions into their battle groups, Sabine keeping her TIE close to Wedge and his friends, her eyes fixed on the space around her as she eagerly waited for the rebels to arrive. The TIEs buzzed around each other, green laser fire filling the space around them, and Sabine wove between the other fighters, firing her own volley and hitting a TIE that passed in front of her. The com was alight with chatter, the cadets barking commands to their teammates and wingmen and congratulating each other on successful hits, and not once did command interrupt to snap at them to keep chatter to a minimum, or any other directions to not break protocol. They were on their own, and to Sabine, it almost felt like freedom.

She didn't need to wait long for the rebels to arrive, and in the empty space before her, an Imperial Star Destroyer blinked out of hyperspace, and Sabine's heart jumped in her chest with momentary panic, fear that this was the Chimaera filling her. The panic turned into rapid relief when she flew her TIE around to get a look at the ship and saw that it lacked the distinctive engravings marking it as Thrawn's, and on the console before her, her personal com pinged with a transmission, a slight burst of static coming from the speaker as the connection was opened.

"Took you long enough, Sabine!" Ezra said smugly, and Sabine grinned as she listened to frantic confusion over the TIE's com as the students asked what was going on and the instructors tried to assert order and barked for answers from command for the reasons for this unscheduled interruption. For a moment, command was silent, stunned into inaction, Sabine thought, before the commander told them all to standby, and without a moment wasted, Sabine turned her TIE toward the Subjugator.

"Come on boys!" Sabine said as she pushed the accelerator forward and sped toward the Star Destroyer in the distance, a ways off, far enough that the ship could safely jump back into hyperspace from its position, but with their head start on the confused Imperials, the swift ships could easily make their escape.

"Here we go," Wedge said, pulling his own TIE off the group and following close to Sabine. "Hobbie, Rake, on me." Following closely behind Sabine, the group of three defectors and their rebel leader shot through space toward the Destroyer, her heart pounding in her chest with the thrill and rush she always got when she gave the Empire the slip, grinning wildly as she looked at her scanner and saw the three TIE Advanced Fighters the instructors were piloting pulling away from the group to give them chase. The Subjugator was heavily armed, and she knew that Kanan and Ezra would be ready to defend them at a moment's notice, making the Imperial pursuit a waste of time, the confusion in the ranks no doubt keeping the Imperials from firing upon them, though from the way her three charges were flying, she didn't think it would be a problem even if they did. These three weren't just good pilots, they were great, a thing easily seen from the effortless way they circled around each other while keeping formation, a difficult evasive maneuver that spoke well of their ability to work together under pressure.

The would make fine editions to the rebellion.

"Cadets, return to base immediately," the calm, even voice of Admiral Thrawn said over the previously silent intercom, and Sabine could feel her heart jump in her chest, her hands tightening around the yoke with no intention of diverting her course. "This is your only warning."

"Negative, Admiral," Sabine said in a smug drawl, her heart racing as she drew closer to the rebel Destroyer, well out of range of the other TIE Fighters and the pursuing instructors. "You're going to have to come and get us."

"Very well..." came the cold, quiet reply, and as the com fell silent, Sabine's TIE suddenly jolted, a swift shudder running through the cockpit as the consoles suddenly went dark, the yoke moving uselessly in her hands, and as her starfighter spun, she looked horrified out her viewport to see the wings of her TIE drifting into space, the circular cockpits of her fellow rebels' ships discarding their wings as well as they too lost power.

Their TIE's had been rigged.

As her cockpit lost speed and began to drift, the Subjugator suddenly seemed so very far away, and with a frustrated scream, Sabine tore her helmet off and slammed it upon the powerless console, snatching up her personal comlink and swiftly opening the channel.

"Ezra, Thrawn knew the entire time, this is a trap!" Sabine shouted into the com. "Abort the mission, get out of here!"

"We aren't leaving without you, Sabine," Ezra growled back. "We took this ship because it's easy to defend. Hang tight, and we'll get you in range of the tractor beam."

"You know very well from working with Kenobi that a Star Destroyer isn't indestructible!" Sabine snapped back. "Get out of here before-"

A sudden force pushed Sabine's cockpit off its aimless course, her entire body jolting sideways, and when she righted herself, a shadow had fallen over her disabled ship, and she looked up through the viewport to see the fearsome, engraved hull of the Chimaera. She stared slack jawed at the ship for a moment, uncertain where it had come from, or how it had managed to make such a risky, precise jump but there it was. The Chimaera, the only thing between herself and her escape.

She saw another Star Destroyer blink into existence in the distance far behind the Subjugator. Then another. And then another. Green flashed across her viewport as the Chimaera opened fire upon the Subjugator, the extremely close range making nearly no shot miss, the nose of the Destroyer facing the Subjugator's flank making it a much smaller target for return fire, but despite the very close fire fight, all Sabine could do was watch in horror as the other Star Destroyers slowly began to close in.

"We need to get out of here!" Sabine heard Kanan shout over the com, the sounds of alarms blaring in the background.

"We aren't leaving without Sabine!" Ezra snapped back.

"We're caught in a trap and it's closing around us!" she heard Leia say in a commanding voice. "Our shields won't hold out much longer, and if we so much as scratch the hull of this ship, my Father's going to kill us all!"

"We don't have a choice, Ezra!" Kanan said, hard resolve in his voice. "We can't help her if we're dead! K2, get us out of here!"

The com held tightly in her hand, Sabine watched out the viewport as the Subjugator turned, its engines blazing as it dove in an effort to escape the closing trap, and under heavy fire from the enemy Star Destroyers, the rebel ship tore out of space as they made the jump to hyperspace. Even though she had been left behind, Sabine felt a sense of satisfaction in knowing that her friends had once again escaped Thrawn's trap and hoped that they'd be wise enough not to come back.

"Captain Skerris," Thrawn's voice said calmly over the com, even and unaffected as if he hadn't just lost the enemy ship, and Sabine felt herself burn with anger that the infuriating Admiral didn't give her the satisfaction of being humiliated or furious, like she knew other Imperials would be. "Lock on to the selected targets and destroy them."

A pit dropped into her stomach, and Sabine unfastened her restraints and scrambled up onto the console to press her face against the viewport, terror gripping her hard when she saw one of the TIE Advanced Fighters screeching toward her and her rebel defectors. Green laser fire shot from the TIE's forward cannons with deadly accuracy, and Sabine watched as the TIE pilot destroyed one pod, then the next, than the next, the mournful, terrified screams and cries of Rake, Hobbie, and Wedge filling her cockpit before they were silenced. When the TIE Advanced reached her, she closed her eyes, tears slipping down her cheeks as she cursed the Empire, and waited for her end to come.

But it never did.

Pealing off from its attack vector as it drew near, the TIE Advanced flew away from her, no further shots fired, and collapsing into the pilot's seat, Sabine put her face in her hands and took slow, deep breaths as she tried to calm herself, willing the tears to stop falling. It didn't take long for her cockpit to shudder as the feel of drifting into space came to an abrupt end, the odd feeling of gravity asserting itself filling the small space. A vicious sneer on her face, Sabine looked up through the viewport at the belly of the Chimaera, the massive ship growing larger and closer with each passing second. She was trapped in the Destroyers' tractor beam, and with no weapons at her disposal, surrounded by the might of thousands aboard an Imperial flagship, Sabine knew it was over.

---

Only a few hours had passed before a pair of imposing Death Troopers arrived at Sabine's cell, but to her, it felt like an eternity. She sat there in silence, binders clamped tightly around her wrists and staring blankly at the wall as she wondered when they would come to drag her away to be tortured and eventually executed, her thoughts drifting inevitably toward Rake, Hobbie and Wedge. Brave men that had pointlessly died because they dared to take a chance and do what's right, because the Empire was so cold, so unfeeling, so uncaring that it offended their morals and sparked a need to seek justice.

And now they were dead, and Sabine knew it was her fault.

She didn't know Hobbie and Rake well, but she had spent time with Wedge, had felt kinship and comradery with him in the simulations they flew together and in the long nights they spent talking in hidden corners of the academy where nobody was watching. They had only known each other for five days, but they had bonded closely in that time, became fast friends in the restrictive environment the Empire imposed upon them, united by a need to do what was good and right. Wedge had been coming out of his skin there at Skystrike, had a fire inside him that burned bright in the stark halls they walked, was a pilot of rare skill, a kind soul that ached for justice and would have been a great asset to the rebellion.

And now Wedge was dead.

Grief hung heavy over her when the Death Troopers came for her, and when she saw them enter her cell, grief turned to rage as she looked upon them, and without thought, she found herself jumping from the hard, cold bench and throwing herself at them, throwing a swift kick at one of the soldier's knees and yelping as pain shot up her leg, the trooper's leg barely buckling under the force of her attack. Any further attempt to attack the guards in her efforts to escape ended swiftly when the second trooper wrapped a hard hand around her upper arm, hard enough that she could feel her skin bruising beneath the armored gloves.

The staccato static of the Death Trooper's coded, indecipherable speech echoed in the small room as the two soldiers briefly conversed, and when they were done, the soldier Sabine had kicked grabbed her other arm, and she was dragged from the room and out into the halls of the Star Destroyer by the two intimidating troopers. They were silent as they went, their stride long, swift and purposeful, and more than once, Sabine's feet were dragged on the floor when she was unable to keep up. Every hallway looked the same, every door identical, and before long, Sabine was entirely turned around, uncertain if they were headed up or down, which complicated her plans for escape.

Looking up at the silent Death Troopers and feeling the bruising grasp upon her arms, Sabine felt bitterness and anger roil in her gut, defiance and obstinance steeling her nerves, and deciding to make things as difficult as possible for her guards, Sabine stopped moving her legs, allowing herself to hang limply in the troopers' grasp, a petulant frown upon her face. They stopped for a second before hoisting her up and continuing on, but their pace had slowed significantly to hold the girl between them, and Sabine felt the slightest touch of satisfaction. If they were going to take her somewhere, she was going ti make them work for it.

It had taken some time, but they eventually reached their destination, one of her guard inserting a coded cylinder into a high security door, the codes taking a moment to be read and approved by the security measures before the door slid open with a smooth hiss. The hall they entered was the same drab gray walls, the same stark white lighting as the maze of other halls they had navigated through, but this one was unexpectedly different. Evenly interspaced along these walls were podiums atop which strange, alien art sat displayed, a shockingly personal touch for the otherwise impersonal conformity of the Empire, and Sabine found herself planting her feet on the ground in an effort to stop herself from being dragged so she could get a closer look.

The Death Troopers didn't allow it, and they continued to drag her down the hall, past the eclectic array of artwork before they inserted the code cylinder into another wall panel. The door slid open, and Sabine planted her feet against the ground and pushed back away from the threshold of the dark room, sudden fear gripping her tightly as she struggled against her guard. Their grasp tightening around her arm, the troopers yanked her forward and into the room, an office, from the look of it, a desk shaped like half a ring sitting before a wall with an alcove, the statues of two reptilian creatures displayed within it. She was forced to sit in one of the seats before the desk, struggling as much as she was able as her binders were undone and reclasped to her wrists behind her, locking her to the chair, and when they were certain she was secured, the two Death Troopers turned and left, the office door sliding closed behind them and leaving Sabine in silence.

Without eyes upon her, Sabine kicked her legs as she renewed her struggle to free herself and quickly found the efforts futile as her thrashing began to pull painfully at her shoulders, the edge of the binders cutting into her wrists and rubbing the skin beneath them raw. Stilling herself and taking a deep breath to calm herself, willing away her fear as best as she was able, Sabine slowly began to look at her surroundings and found them much like the hallway that led here. Artwork hung upon the wall and carvings, statues and artifacts sat displayed upon the desk and every other available surface, some things she recognized, like the helmet of a clone soldier, much like the one Rex had, but most which seemed foreign and strange to her.

Except one thing, and it was intimately familiar.

On the side of the room sat a large, flat slab of stone wall, the edges jagged and uneven like it has been salvaged from the rubble of a building, which it likely had been. Upon it's flat surface were drawings, writings and designs in splashes of bright, wild color, stylistic graffiti of Loth-cats and Stormtrooper helmets and in the center, large and bright and bold in gradient reds and oranges and yellows, was a drawing of a starbird, warm and familiar, the very symbol Phoenix Squadron had adopted as its symbol. The very symbol that Sabine had painted upon her own armor.

These drawings had all been done by Sabine herself.

Sabine had been a prolific and subversive graffiti artist for many years, since before she joined the Spectres, but this piece was recent, done within the last few years. While she couldn't remember when she did this particular defacement of public property, she did know it came from Lothal. Someone had to have gone to great lengths to acquire this, gone through the rubble of a demolished building or picked through the remains of an explosive fire fight with the occupying Imperial forces and then dragged this considerable slab of stone to its final location.

It was an absurd amount of effort, and Sabine couldn't begin to understand why.

She wasn't certain how long she sat staring at her artwork in silence, but her solitude ended with the soft hiss of the door, the calm, even footfalls of an easy stride as the Imperial walked around the desk to sit in the seat behind it, and Sabine found herself staring at the blue skin and glowing red eyes of Grand Admiral Thrawn. They stared at each other in silence for a long while, and though Sabine's heart was pounding furiously in her chest, the silence didn't feel tense or oppressive. Instead, the Chiss seemed to regard her with curiosity, his ridged brow furrowing slightly as those eerie eyes carefully studied her face, her body, the way she sat, the speed of her breathing, and Sabine briefly found herself wondering if those alien eyes could see something that humans couldn't.

"Sabine Wren," Thrawn said quietly. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you."

"Can't say the same about you," Sabine snapped, jolting forward to once again pull at her restraints. "You're a murderer! They were disabled, you could have captured them!" she shouted, her teeth grinding together when she felt tears sting her eyes.

"I have found that those bold enough to attempt to defect in such a manner are rarely salvageable," Thrawn said calmly, his hands folding neatly on the desk before him. "There would have been little purpose in detaining them when it would only lead to sabotage or further escape attempts that would result in the bolstering of your rebel ranks. I regret that the need for death was necessary, but make no mistake, it was necessary."

"Like destroying our ships and transports was necessary?" Sabine bit out bitterly, but Thrawn did not react to the accusation. He simply inclined his head.

"Just so," he said under his breath. "Phoenix Squadron must be truly desperate if the destruction of a few ships leads you to infiltrate a high security Imperial instillation in search of pilots."

"...you knew this whole time, didn't you?" Sabine asked quietly, trying to shake the rising dread she felt creeping up her spine. "You didn't go to Skystrike to recruit for a project, you went because you knew we'd be there."

"I was informed that there were potential defectors among the ranks of Skystrike's cadets," Thrawn replied. "Given the recent attacks on your vessels, there was a fair probability that your rebels would send someone to extract them."

"...when did you know it was me?" Sabine asked meekly, the bitterness and anger fading and leaving her feeling foolish.

"I had my suspicions when I reviewed your simulation records," Thrawn said quietly. "I knew for certain when I had you run through my simulation. Your style is...very distinct," he said, the slightest smile tugging at the edge of his lips as he gestured to the slab of stone at the side of his office. "I would recognize it anywhere."

For a long moment, Sabine stared at the Admiral before she slowly looked back to her artwork. There was something she was missing, a disconnect between Thrawn's suspicions and his conclusions that she was entirely ignorant of. It was unsettling, and she felt her stomach tighten and churn with a heavy, sickening feeling at the thought that somehow, Thrawn was using her artwork against her. It was beyond her understanding, she didn't understand how, but the moment the thought snuck into her mind, she knew it was true. Her art was about freedom and rebellion and individuality, a stark contract to the Empire's gray conformity, and Thrawn had taken it and turned it to serve the Empire's purpose.

Suddenly, the sight of her art in this Imperial's office was making her feel ill.

"My style," Sabine said through grit teeth as she looked back at the Chiss, "is nowhere to be seen. I had to strip myself of it the get in here!"

"Yes..." Thrawn whispered, his eyes flicking away from his captive to stare at his hands for a moment. "It was difficult for you to do so. Simply existing in this environment is stifling for one such as yourself." Red eyes once again looked at her, and Sabine could feel the hairs rising on the back of her neck. "A good enough disguise for most. Not for me. New colors may be added to a work of art, but the artist's touch cannot be concealed, and your touch is very distinct, Sabine Wren," Thrawn said, his already quiet voice lowering, and Sabine found herself leaning in. "You are so very Mandalorian."

"What would you know of Mandalore!" Sabine snapped, a sudden swell of anger washing away the nerves and fear and confusion that had filled her before and left her feeling indignant. Thrawn remained unimpressed, that slight, insufferable smirk at the edge of his thin lips making it all too clear to her that her outburst had proved his point.

"Ni cuy' nayc ures kar'tayl guuror bid birov," Thrawn said, and Sabine's jaw dropped as she stared at him, his soft, inflectionless tone touching even this other language, but Sabine recognized it none the less in an instant. "I know a great deal about your people, Sabine Wren."

"Y-you speak Mando'a?" she squeaked in a small, uncertain voice.

"I do," Thrawn said, firm and confident. "Your people have been of a particular interest to me, and I have spent the past several years studying them. Which brings me your interrogation," he said, his hands flattening on the desk. "Your Shadow King," Thrawn whispered, a cold chill in his voice that made Sabine hold her breath in nervous anticipation. "Where is he."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Sabine said quickly, too quickly, and it was obvious that the Chiss didn't believe her.

"His activities in the past few years since he joined with your Phoenix Squadron have become more frequent and more destructive," Thrawn continued as if Sabine hadn't spoken at all, her reactionary comment quickly dismissed as the lie it was. "The attack on Bandomeer, the assault on Imperial forces above Ryloth, multiple cases of highly destructive strikes on Lothal, the heist of the Galactic Banks on Muunilinst, the systematic execution of the members of the Inquisitorius among many, many other acts of sedition..." Thrawn's hand brushed slowly over the smooth surface of the desk before him, his eyes never leaving the increasingly defiant eyes of the Mandalorian sitting opposite him. "And then, nothing." The Chiss folded his hands before him once again and leaned in toward his captive, his eyes narrowing as he studied her features. "For over a month, there has been no sign of him, no mark of his touch upon your activities."

"Sounds like you haven't studied him at all," Sabine said with a roll of her eyes, a condescending smirk upon her face. "He has to lay low all the time, a month is nothing to him. And that was his Star Destroyer that came for me..." she drawled, glowering when the Chiss' expression didn't change at all. "You know, before you murdered my friends..."

"His ship, yes..." Thrawn muttered quietly, his hands pressing together and his fingers touching his lips as his eyes flicked to the white and gold mask that sat displayed upon his desk. He was silent for a long moment as he studied it, and Sabine shifted uncomfortably in her seat as she wondered what that alien mind could possibly be gleaning from such an artifact. "His ship," Thrawn said again as his eyes returned to Sabine, his clasped hands once again laying upon the desk. "But not him. Another was in command of his ship."

"You can't possibly know that."

"I can," Thrawn said, so swiftly and so confident that Sabine couldn't help but wince, confirming what the Chiss clearly already knew. "It was a bold move to bring a Star Destroyer for a simple extraction, a strategy certainly worthy of the Shadow King, though they lacked the confidence of his command." He paused for a second, his eyes swiftly darting to look at something behind her, though Sabine didn't dare look to see what, instead kept her gaze fixed on the Chiss' thoughtful expression. "No," the Admiral continued quietly, "this commander is young and inexperienced, though almost certainly trained by the Shadow King."

"Like you said, we've been working with him for a while," Sabine said with a sneer. "We're bound to pick up some of his tricks."

"Yes..." Thrawn quietly agreed, the serenity of his voice at odds with the way his eyes narrowed. "But not like this. This commander is new, and I have possibly only witnessed them once before in your raid of the reclamation station in the Yarma system. Curious, that they should only appear once your Shadow King is gone, so I will ask you again. Where is he?"

This time, Sabine couldn't help the flicker of sadness that passed over her face as her thoughts drifted to Kenobi still in the healing tank with no sign of returning to them any time soon. She banished it quickly, grabbing hold instead of the anger for what had happened and her own guilt that she hadn't been there to help her Mand'alor when he most needed it, but it wasn't enough. Thrawn had seen that flicker of sadness and doubt and insecurity, the prideful Mandalorian uncertain and lost, and his ridged brow drew together as he leaned back in his seat. For the first time since she had been in his presence, Sabine saw the hint of emotion on the impassive Chiss' face, and it looked like regret.

"So it's true then..." Thrawn whispered. "The Shadow King is gone. You have my condolences."

"Yeah, I'm sure I do!" Sabine hissed bitterly as she glared at the Admiral, the moment passed and his face was unreadable as it had been before. "You got what you want. You win. So what happens to me now? Are you going to kill me?"

"You are no use to me dead," Thrawn said as he ran his fingers over the desk, the slightest brush causing a control panel to light up upon the smooth black surface, and he lightly tapped a few commands into the console. "When I am finished with you, you shall be returned to Mandalore. I happen to be very interested in maintaining a close connection to Moff Kryze."

"And you think you can accomplish that by turning me over to her?" Sabine scoffed. "You're sadly mistaken. Traitors aren't welcome on Mandalore!"

"We shall see..." Thrawn said almost dismissively, as if he knew something she didn't, and before Sabine had a chance to see if she couldn't draw more information out of the Imperial, the door behind her slid open and heavy footsteps struck the ground as the Death Troopers returned, one roughly grabbing her shoulder as the other unlocked her from the chair, a hard hand beneath her hand dragging her to her feet.

"I thank you for your cooperation, Sabine Wren," Thrawn said with a respectful nod of his head as the Death Troopers dragged Sabine out of the office. "You have been...most informative."

---

With nothing to do but stare at the plain, blank walls of her cell, time slowed to a crawl, and Sabine quickly grew restless. Her thoughts swung wildly between plans for escape, heavy sadness for the senseless loss of three promising young pilots, and contemplative reflection on her meeting with Thrawn, though more than once, she found herself imagining how she would paint the drab walls of her cell. There wasn't much she wouldn't give for her supplies, if only to have a way to pass the time until Thrawn once again dragged her from her solitude.

When he was finished with her, he had said, but he hadn't elaborated on what exactly it was he had planned for her, and each time Sabine thought of what that could be, it only grew worse and worse in her increasingly desperate mind. He had said he didn't want her dead, but he could have been lying, though supposing that was true, the alternatives were by far worse than death. She could endure interrogation and torture, and she was certain she would be subjected to exactly that in Thrawn's care, but far, far worse than that was that she would be used as bait to lure her friends into a trap. She knew there was no question that they would come for her. Worst of all, Thrawn certainly knew as well.

And when she was returned to Mandalore, if she was returned, what would her family do? After what she had done as part of the Empire, and after she stood against it and became a traitor to the family that had abandoned her...what would become of her? When she has briefly met with Bo-Katan on Concord Dawn, she was clearly Kenobi's ally, perhaps even more than that, and she had said her mother missed her, though she didn't forgive her. Would she be welcomed back? Or would bitterness over her betrayal once again make Sabine a prisoner of Imperial Mandalore? Bo-Katan may be a secret ally of the rebels, but that didn't mean her mother was.

And most foreboding of all, did Thrawn know about Bo-Katan's allegiances?

Sabine's thoughts were interrupted when her cell door slid open and Agent Kallus walked inside, and despite the unpleasantness of his presence, she couldn't help the smug smirk that spread across her face at the sight of the ISB Agent's dour countenance.

"Well..." Sabine drawled as Kallus shut the door behind him and dropped the TIE pilot helmet he had tucked under his arm upon the ground. "Looks like they finally found someone that can do your job."

"And I bet you wish you were still dealing with me," Kallus said with a roll of his eyes.

"Did you just come here to gloat?" Sabine snapped as she leapt to her feet, and when Kallus' hand touched the blaster on his hip, she scowled and slowly lowered herself back down to sit on the cell's hard bench, unable to do anything with her arms restrained behind her back. "You haven't won yet," Sabine growled. "The Empire's never been able to hold me, and now's no different. You know better than anyone that I won't be left behind. They'll come for me."

"I believe you," Kallus said quietly between clenched teeth as he took a step closer to the rebel, his hand closing around her arm as he dragged her to her feet, and just as Sabine began to thrash in protest, she stopped moving, the tight pressure on her wrists and the uncomfortable pull in her shoulders releasing as the restraints clattered to the ground. Gently rubbing the chaffed, red skin of her wrists, Sabine turned to face Kallus, not bothering to hide the confusion she felt as she watched him pull a small comlink and a code cylinder from his pocket and pressed them into her hand.

"The code cylinder belongs to a lieutenant and should get you access to everywhere you need to go from here to the main hangar," Kallus whispered. "The comlink has coordinates on it that will lead you to your rendezvous point with the Ghost. There's a shuttle scheduled to leave out of the main docking bay that you shouldn't have trouble getting on, but it's up to you to get there safely, so don't try anything stupid."

"You're...helping me escape?" Sabine asked in a small voice, and was only answered by the agent bending down to pick up the helmet and shoving it and his blaster into her grasp. "I-I don't understand..."

"Tell Garazeb Orrelios that we're even," Kallus said quietly as he opened the cell door and without another glance in the rebel's direction, he disappeared out into the hallway, leaving Sabine alone in the quiet cell. Taking a moment to collect her scattered thoughts, Sabine quickly checked over the comlink and the code cylinder, and satisfied that they weren't bugged, she slid them into the breast pocket of her flight suit, holstered the blaster and put the helmet on her head. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Sabine felt hope catch fire deep inside her chest, making her heart pound with excited determination as she approached the closed door of her cell and listened carefully for the sound of anyone patrolling the halls.

Hearing nothing, she slid the code cylinder from her pocket, inserted it into the reader, and much to her relief, the door opened without delay, and she swiftly stepped out into the hall, her stride long and purposeful as she walked down the halls. Keeping her vision trained forward, Sabine passed by Stormtroopers on patrol and officers in the halls, though her step never faltered, and not one questioned her presence or purpose, either by some rare stroke of luck, or because the confidence of her step was enough to deter them. She didn't know which, but she wasn't about to question it, not when her escape from this impossible situation seemed so close at hand.

She had been walking for a few minutes before she turned into a vacant hallway, and quickly checking to be certain that there were no troopers or officers or other personnel coming her way, she inserted her code cylinder into a nearby terminal and was quickly granted access. For a moment, she was tempted to sift through the files and test her security clearance to see just how much information a lieutenant could access, putting her in a position to get valuable Imperial information on Thrawn, his activities and his projects, but Kallus' warning cut through her mind. With a resigned sigh, Sabine left the temptation to access secure data and instead pulled up a map of the Chimaera.

She wasn't far from the main hangar that Kallus had directed her to, and after she oriented herself to her surroundings and the most direct path ahead, she pulled her code cylinder from the access port and continued her way toward her destination. Her path through the Star Destroyer became significantly easier when she caught sight of a group of TIE pilots all headed in her direction, and jogging to catch up, she silently joined the group, the only resistance to her inclusion an off-handed comment about someone always being late.

They entered the hangar together, and Sabine looked around in wonder at the size of it, at the rows and rows of TIEs that sat ready to deploy, at the towering AT-AT Walkers being serviced at the far side of the massive deck, at the hundreds of engineers and techs and pilots that were checking and maintaining a rich array of different vehicles. All this and more on one Star Destroyer, and Sabine knew very well that Thrawn had a fleet at his disposal, at least three other Star Destroyers that she knew of, each likely possessing the same compliment as the Chimaera, and suddenly, Phoenix Squadron felt very, very small in comparison.

She caught sight of the Lambda shuttle out at the forefront of the dock, its engines idling and its crew running the last minute checks, and Sabine quietly parted from the group of pilots and headed toward the shuttle. It wasn't the first time she wished she was gifted with the Force, just enough to influence a mind the way Kenobi and Kanan could, instead of having to rely on quick thinking, ingenuity, and a whole lot of luck. Though even with her reservations, Sabine's mind was quickly working through her options, the feel of the blaster at her hip a welcome comfort despite being seriously outnumbered and outgunned.

Drifting off her direct course to pass by one of the many portable workstations around the hangar, Sabine discretely grabbed a tool belt from the top of an empty station, slung it over her shoulder, and made her way back toward the shuttle. It was a risky gambit, she knew, but she didn't have many other options, and while Chimaera's commander may have been brilliant, certainly his observational skills didn't trickle down to the low level Imperials under his command. There was enough going on aboard a Star Destroyer, enough codes and information floating around, enough personnel that Sabine could certainly slip through the cracks, even aboard Thrawn's ship.

"Aren't you in the wrong place, pilot?" one of the techs asked Sabine as she strode past them and began to walk up the Lambda's boarding ramp, and with a bored, heavy sigh, Sabine readjusted the tool belt on her shoulder and turned to face him, a young, fresh faced man that looked to be barely out of the Academy.

"Security sent me to double check the weapon systems," Sabine said with a lazy drawl, pointing her thumb over her shoulder at the ship behind her. "They seem to think the rebels might be planning another attack."

"This is the first I heard of it..." the tech muttered, wiping oil off on the pants of his jumpsuit and scrolling through his datapad, through he looked back up at Sabine when she audibly groaned.

"Look, I'm just doing what I was told," Sabine said tiredly. "I don't want to get in trouble for disobeying some lieutenant just because he couldn't be bothered to update the service orders." That seemed to do the trick, the tech dropping the datapad and nodding as he picked up a scanner from his workstation.

"Just be quick," the tech muttered as he returned to the open panel at the side of the ship. "Shuttle's scheduled to leave within the hour, and people have been coming and going getting it ready to go. You really don't want to get in their way."

"Officers?" Sabine asked, and the tech looked up at her, a shy smile on his face as he nodded. "You got it, boss," she said brightly, turning away from the young tech and walking up into the hold of the Lambda.

Much to her relief, there were few people in the shuttle, only a pair of Stormtroopers securing hovercrates into the cargo hold, a tech with her arms elbow-deep in the hyperdrive console, and a pilot and copilot in the cockpit checking the secondary systems. Briefly running a cursory check on the weapon systems, Sabine waited until the Stormtroopers had left before she quickly made her way to the crates they had been securing, opened one of them, and much to her relief, found it empty. She quickly jumped inside, swiftly disabling the locking mechanism before she curled up and pulled to top over her, leaving her in absolute darkness.

Switching on her helmet's light, she touched the blaster at her hip and pulled the comlink from her breast pocket, turning it over in her hands. Even if things went badly, even if she ended up a prisoner on this ship instead of taking it like she hoped to do, she'd be able to put out a signal that the Spectres could use to find here. Hopefully. If her luck was good, and so far, it had been a bit hit and miss that day. But the fact that she had even made it that far, that she would find an unlikely ally in the heart of her enemy's domain, was incredible enough for her to hold on to the hope that she could make it back home.

All of it, the tragic deaths of her rebel pilots, the arrival of Thrawn, help in the form of Agent Kallus, the possibility that this could all be an elaborate trap...all of it had to be pushed aside in favor of escape. She could deal with it all when she returned safely home.

Or when she had been returned to her prison cell.

Sabine stayed still and silent within the crate for a long while, listening intently to the shuffling outside as Stormtroopers finished loading cargo and techs completed their repairs and checked the systems. Before long, Sabine could hear the engines powering on and felt the vibrations beneath her, and her heart began pounding in her chest when she felt the familiar sensation of the ship rising from the ground and entering space. Against all odds, this insane plan was working, and as she carefully pushed the top off the crate, her blaster in hand as she looked around the vacant hold, she wondered how much her success had been because of Kallus lining things up for her.

Climbing out of the crate and priming her blaster, Sabine took a few deep breaths as she double checked the hold, and satisfied that she found nobody there, she inserted her code cylinder into the reader beside the door and walked into the brightly lit corridor of the Lambda. She made her way slowly through the transport, carefully checking for troops or officers or techs, anyone that could get in the way of her escape, but she found nobody, which was odd, but it was not unheard of for Star Destroyers to dispatch lightly staffed shuttles. It was a thing that the Spectres had taken advantage of on numerous occasions.

Quietly standing beside the closed door of the cockpit, Sabine slid her code cylinder into the reader on the wall, and she quickly stepped inside when the door hissed open and shot the pilot and the copilot before the two men had a chance to turn around. Pulling the pilot's body out of the seat, Sabine jumped into the chair and quickly turned on the comlink, connecting it into the communication's array and dropping the shuttle out of hyperspace. They hadn't gone far, the navicomputer placing them on the outermost edge of the Calimari sector, the next system over from the Lothal sector, and Sabine breathed a sigh of relief as she uploaded the coordinates of her rendevous point.

Disabling the Imperial locator beacon as she waited for the jump to be calculated, Sabine Activated the main computer and tried to find a mission objective or any other information she could find on the project Thrawn was supposedly recruiting for, but the codes in the lieutenant's cylinder didn't unlock anything. She reached down and took the code cylinder from the pilot's jacket, and slipping it into the reader, she managed to find that the shuttle was en route to Stygeon Prime, the location of the Spire, the Imperial prison where she and the Spectres first met Obi-Wan. Not a place that she was in any hurry to return to.

The navicomputer chimed when the jump was calculated, and with a few flipped switches and pulled levers, the shuttle jumped to hyperspace, the stars blurring to the soothing blue and white spiral of the travel corridor. Using the pilot's codes, she searched the computer for any more information, but she found nothing else of value. No mention at all of the purpose of the trip to Stygeon Prime, no information on Thrawn's project, no data on the Chimaera or its crew, nothing that could have been of any use at all to them, and with a heavy sigh, Sabine laid back in the seat and watched the swirl of hyperspace.

It wouldn't be long before she arrived at the rendevous, and with her freedom so close at hand, weariness finally began to settle upon her shoulders. She felt physically and mentally exhausted, her eyes stinging from a lack of sleep and from the time she had spent crying alone in her cell, her shoulders sore and heavy from the tension she had carried during her time at Skystrike surrounded by the enemy, her heart feeling sluggish when compared to the pounding pace caused by the nerves of being in Thrawn's presence. She felt relief and mourning, overwhelming joy and hopeless depression, a strange and confusing mix of emotions that left her feeling turned around and pulled so very thin. It was a great deal to handle at once, and now that things had calmed, she was finally feeling the weight and strain of the intense emotional swings.

She held up her hands in front of her, her lip trembling and far too tired to fight the tears that slid down her cheeks, and all she could think about was how good it would be to be in her armor again.

Sabine had stopped crying by the time the Lambda had lurched out of hyperspace, and for a long moment, she simply looked down at the console, her fingers sliding through her hair, her eyes closed as she took deep, slow breaths. There was a slight burst of static from the communication's array as her plugged in com picked up a tight beam signal, and Sabine smiled before she even heard the voice on the other end.

"Spectre Five, this is Spectre Two," a warm, familiar voice - Hera's voice - said, commanding and warm and so, so welcome. "Do you read me, Spectre Five?"

"I've never been so glad to hear you," Sabine said, her voice cracking with emotion as she opened her eyes and looked out the viewport to see the Ghost hanging in space before her.

She was finally going home.

---

There was a traitor among them.

Thrawn sat in silence, his hands pressed together and his fingers to his lips as he observed the artwork projected around him, a wide variety of styles, from propaganda to classical landscapes originating from Coruscant, Lothal, Onderon, and Lasan among a dozen others, some he had studied at great length before this moment, and others he was now seeing for the first time, though all of them he was now studying with a new eye. He was certain that the Chimaera hadn't been breeched, certain that no rebels save for Sabine Wren had boarded his ship, and with the way the security systems had failed, with the way the Mandalorian had escaped his grasp, he was confident that this had been an inside job.

While security monitoring had been sabotaged and prevented him from recovering a visual of Wren's escape, other security recordings had remained in tact, and all the data collected in conjunction with the rebel's escape named one Lieutenant Yogar Lyste as the man who had opened her cell and paved the way to her escape. A native of Garel, Lyste had previous experience with the Phoenix Squadron before, most notably had been the man in charge of a particularly humiliating failure of security when a delegation from Alderaan visiting Lothal had their ships stolen by the infamous insurgents. And now, the young Lieutenant had his name directly tied to the rebels once again, and the security officers that arrested him didn't believe such a thing to be a convenient coincidence.

But Thrawn did.

Lyste was innocent, of that, he was certain, and the closer Thrawn looked at the Lieutenant's record, the more he became convinced that the man was targeted because of this convenient series of coincidences. At a glance, he looked extremely guilty, the records of his code cylinder opening Wren's cell damning enough on its own, but his previous record of major losses to Phoenix Squadron could seem deliberate and planned when looked through a different lense. And Thrawn was certain that his traitor was counting on exactly that. Lyste was ideal to frame for Wren's escape, as he was almost comically unlucky and out of his depth, and as such, he became the obvious culprit for a crime that was quickly and easily solved.

However, even the slightest closer look would show Yogar Lyste to be too inexperienced and naive to mastermind the events that had transpired, both on Lothal and on the Chimaera. Like so many others, the Phoenix Squadron had made a fool of the young officer, and the traitor among them was clever enough to use unlucky Lyste as a scapegoat for their own activities. With Lyste exposed as a rebel, the traitor would be secure in their secrecy and continue to aid the insurgents by passing along Imperial secrets, as they had presumably done with the word of defectors at Skystrike, and before even that with the destruction of the Y-Wings on Yarma.

It was the perfect opportunity to identify the traitor and use them against the rebels they served.

The door to the Admiral's quarters quietly slid open, though Thrawn did not move from where he sat studying the art around him. He didn't need to look at the newcomer to know the heavy tread belonged to a man, the uninterrupted confidence of his stride characteristic of Agent Kallus. Confident, he thought, even in light of the loss of Sabine Wren. Confident even though he came to report a dismal outcome to a superior officer, a thing that would make most cower, even if they were faultless, and there was no question in his mind that they had been unable to locate their escaped rebel. The Phoenix Squadron was far too skilled at vanishing once they had slipped through the Imperial grasp.

"Sir, I regret to inform you that we were unable to locate the rebel, or the Lambda she stole," Kallus said quietly, his voice filled with regret, strangely at odds with the confidence of his step. "Lieutenant Lyste has not yet confessed to his role in her escape, but he will."

"Yes..." Thrawn said thoughtfully, unmoving from his position as he examined the holographic art that hung before him. "I thank you for your aid in this traitor's swift apprehension, Agent Kallus."

"Unfortunately, not so quick that we could catch him before he helped the rebel girl escape," Kallus apologetically muttered. "My sincerest apologies, Grand Admiral. You have my word, it will not happen again."

"We may have lost Sabine Wren, but we managed to secure an important victory today," Thrawn said calmly as he stood from his seat to face Kallus, his hand running over the back of his command chair. "The exposure of an Imperial traitor is of greater value than the capture of any one member of Phoenix Squadron. Against any enemy, the greatest weapon is information, and we have deprived them of an effective method of acquiring it."

"Hopefully Lyste didn't manage to pass along too much..."

"He did not," Thrawn said confidently. "Being an informant among the enemy requires a certain amount of discretion, lest he risk exposure, and our traitor does not have the ability or the knowledge to pass critical information to the Phoenix Squadron."

"If he did, he wouldn't be in our custody now," Kallus said, his back straightening and the slightest hint of pride touching his voice.

"...just so," Thrawn whispered, turning away from Kallus and looking once again at the art around the room. "You have my thanks, Agent Kallus. You are dismissed."

Kallus saluted quickly before he turned and walked from the room, and Thrawn listened to the smooth, easy confidence of the Agent's stride as he left, his glowing red eyes fixated on a rough, jagged painting in stark blacks and reds and purples depicting the catastrophic battle that led to the complete destruction of Lasan.

---

After being interrogated at length by Ahsoka and Hera about her time in Skystrike and the absolute disastrous turn her mission had taken, Sabine left the command center late the afternoon she returned to Atollon, and wearily made her way passed the long line of ships on the airfield for the solitude of the medcenter. She ran her fingers through her hair, re-dyed gradient white and lavender, and rolled her shoulders to revel in the light, comfortable feel of her armor, so unlike the heavy, bulky flight suit she had been trapped in for the past few weeks, and despite the persistent sting of failure that refused to stop nagging at the back of her mind, it felt good to be home.

Taking a deep breath of the warm, dry air, Sabine drifted in closer to the ships to walk beneath the shadow of the Ghost, her pace slowing and a slight smile playing across her lips as she heard the loud clanging and growled curses of another one of Zeb and Chopper's frequent disagreements through the open loading ramp. An array of tools came clattering down the ramp, and a moment later, Chopper went speeding down the ramp after them, a grinding string of explicatives emanating from the cantankerous little droid as he shook his utility arms at the Lasat that came stomping out of the ship after him, deep purple fur covered in oil and a bitter scowl on his face.

Upon seeing Sabine, Chopper quickly sped to her side and ran into her leg, his utility arm gently tapping her thigh as he exclaimed a series of short, rude reprimands, and with a heavy sigh, she laid her hand upon the droid's flat dome. Flashing Zeb a tight smile, the Lasat lumbered toward her, his ears flat against his head, and gently laid a large hand upon her shoulder, only to have the teenager lean against him, the three of them standing together in comfortable silence.

"Agent Kallus says that you two are even now," Sabine whispered, tilting her head up to peer at the focused, thoughtful look on Zeb's face when his strong arm tensed.

"Did he now..."

"Yeah, he did." Sighing softly, Sabine pulled away from the Lasat, and with a sly smirk, snatched a hanging cloth from the man's belt to wipe off the oil he had smeared on her armor when he had embraced her. "I know Kenobi was, you know, royally pissed that you didn't kill him when you had the chance, but if you did, I'd still be Thrawn's prisoner, so, you know..." She shrugged, tucked the rag back on to Zeb's belt, and punched the Lasat's arm. "You did good."

"Yeah, well, Kenobi's not always right about everything," Zeb mumbled, rubbing his head awkwardly and flashing the Mandalorian a sheepish smile. "I know you had it rough out there. You alright?" Zeb asked, and the slight smile on her lips wavered ever so slightly. She wasn't alright. She had watched three young men die, had walked stupidly into a trap, had gazed into the face of their enemy and had been powerless to do a thing against him. The mission, her mission, was a failure in nearly every possible way. She was the furthest thing from alright.

"Yeah, I'm alright," Sabine chirped, a cocky smile on her face as she crossed her arms over her chest and stood up taller, though she could tell from the quiet, sympathetic smile on Zeb's face that he didn't believe her. Patting her once again on the shoulder, Zeb gently nudged her back on her way and turned to get back to his work on the Ghost, and Sabine couldn't help but feel a deep gratitude and appreciation for her friend. He didn't press or pry like others would have. Zeb just gave her space, and she knew that when she was ready, if she was ever ready, he'd be there for her when she needed him.

She took her time walking to the medcenter, walking close to the edge of the constructed barrier and looking at the native, spider-like krykna scurrying across the planet's red sand a healthy distance away from the base. Even from here, Sabine could see the top of the elevated bridge of the Subjugator just over the ridge of the plateau that Chopper Base sat upon, much closer than the ship had been before, and she couldn't help but wonder how much damage the Star Destroyer had sustained in her failed rescue. It was still odd to think that a Star Destroyer filled with Imperial soldiers was working with their rebellion effort, an easy thing to forget since the ship was kept so far away, but now, with the ship closer then ever, it felt like they were part of things.

The medcenter was quiet when Sabine entered, the lights powered down to their night time settings and only a few smaller, older droid models managing the desk and roaming the halls, though none of them stopped her when she walked past them. She knew her way to the isolated room at the end of the hall despite it seeming as if it was tucked away among a series of identical hallways. She had been there many times before, had spent a great deal of time there when Ezra was still recovering, and now, with her frightening confrontation with Thrawn fresh in her mind, she felt the need to return. She had become the first of their rebellion to see the alien Admiral in person and directly deal with him, and it was wasted on her.

Reaching the room, she quickly imputed the code into the console and the door slid open with a smooth hiss, allowing her to step inside the dimly lit room, and she sighed in disappointment when she found it to be exactly as it was when she last left it. Kenobi still hung suspended in the gently glowing bacta, no sign of being any closer to consciousness than he had been before. In a seat right beside the tank sat Luke, a collection of components and wires and tools floating in the air before him as he manipulated them with the Force, pieces of metal snapping together as the unfinished mechanical device rotated.

On the other side of the room, Leia sat cross-legged on a chair with the Sith holocron floating between her hands, the gold capstones picking up the glow of the bacta tank and the smooth, glass sides a strange clouded black. It was odd to see Leia as anything other than a commander after she had taken charge after Kenobi had fallen, but here she was in this informal setting, a child even younger than Sabine was, still lost and grief-stricken over the loss of her parent and mentor. Sabine knew all too well what that was like, felt it keenly after her family supported the Empire over her, again when the Protectors shot Hera's ship down and they all thought they had lost her, and again when Kenobi was brought back thoroughly defeated from his mission to Malachor.

She suspected this wouldn't be the last time they would be left feeling this way.

"It's good to see you, Sabine," Luke said quietly, a small smile on his face as he looked up at the Mandalorian and watched her lay a hand upon the bacta tank. "For a while, we didn't think we'd ever see you again. That you returned to us means the mission wasn't a total loss."

"We didn't gain anything either, the mission was a failure..." Sabine muttered, leaning her forehead against the glass with a heavy sigh. "Three men are dead because I made the wrong choice."

"There wasn't a right choice, Sabine..." Luke said quietly, his floating components gently dropping onto a side table as he stood and put a hand upon her shoulder. "But I don't think giving Thrawn more time to study you would have been a good idea. You were right to try and get out of there quickly."

"It wasn't a complete loss, in any case," Leia said as she plucked the holocron out of the air. "A chance to observe Thrawn in person was well worth the losses we incurred, we've been waiting for this opportunity for a long time."

"It was not worth the loss of those pilots!" Sabine growled through clenched teeth, glaring at Leia through narrowed eyes. "Wedge was-"

"A fine pilot and a good man, I'm sure," Leia said calmly, the holocron once again floating above her palm, and flicking one of the edges with her finger, it began to rapidly spin. "Two things that ceased to mean anything the moment he entered Thrawn's game, which was likely before the good Admiral even arrived at Skystrike." She extended a finger to tap the holocron, the little pyramid's spinning slowed, and Leia gave Sabine a pointed look. "Your friend was likely dead before you even met him."

"Leia, that's enough," Luke said firmly, his hand tightening on the trembling Mandalorian's shoulder.

"I wasn't..." Leia protested, biting down on her lip as she snatched the holocron out of air once again and sighed. "I wasn't trying to be cruel, Luke..."

"You were."

"You're right," Leia muttered. "I'm sorry, Sabine. All I meant was that this wasn't your fault. I...truly don't believe that anything you did could have saved your friends. But what you learned in there..." she said, her voice lowering secretively as Leia pointed the holocron at her. "Your meetings with Thrawn can help us save people in the future. If we can understand him, we can keep ahead of him."

"I don't know if I can help you," Sabine said with a shake of her head. "I could barely understand him myself, I don't think I'd be able to help you understand." With a heavy sigh, Sabine turned around and leaned against the bacta tank, her arms crossing over her chest. "I already gave my report to Ahsoka and Hera, I don't know what else I could tell you."

"Try," Leia said, her voice soft and earnest as she swiftly jumped out of her seat, and with a flick of her hand, her chair scraped along the ground, stopping just before the tank, and Leia vaulted over the back of the seat to land upon the chair once again. "Please. Anything at all. How he thinks, how he acts, what he looks for. Anything."

"Anything..." Sabine mumbled, holding her breath as she looked down at the ground at Leia's foot as it bounced excitedly upon the ground. "You know what I thought was weird?" she said after a moment of thought. "His office is filled with art. All kinds of art. My art, among a dozen others."

"Got yourself a fan, Sabine?" Leia asked with a sly grin. "How's it feel to be famous?"

"Not like I thought it would..." Sabine grumbled, her arms crossing tighter over her chest as she glowered at the other girl. "I don't understand what he did, but somehow, he..." She paused and bit down on her lip as she looked away from Leia, her thoughts swimming with the impossibility of it all and how absolutely insane it made her sound, and decided that if anyone would believe in impossible things, it was Kenobi's twins. "He's using my art against me," she whispered. "I don't know how, but somehow, he looked at my artwork and used it to pick me out at Skystrike from all those cadets. We've never met, and he knew everything about me."

"And you think he used your art to do that?" Leia asked, sitting up straight in her seat and shooting her brother a swift, concerned look.

"I know he did," Sabine said bitterly. "He said as much."

"I wonder..." Leia mumbled, looking down at her hands for a moment before she stood and placed the holocron back on top of the bacta tank's monitoring system. "Do you think Thrawn has the Force?" she asked Luke, holding up her hand and wiggling her fingers. "If he does, if he has powers similar to mine-"

"Or maybe he's just that smart," Sabine interrupted in a biting, impatient tone. "If we start pinning his successes on the Force, we're going to underestimate his intelligence. That's a mistake we can't afford to make."

"We aren't underestimating him, Sabine," Luke calmly said. "But if we're going to beat him, we need to take every possibility into consideration. You can't feel the Force, so we can't discount that possibility." He smiled softly at her, and despite herself, Sabine felt the tension leave her shoulders. "We don't want one of his assets to go unnoticed, do we?"

"...n-no, I suppose not..." Sabine muttered, slowly shaking her head. "I just don't know what to make of him."

"None of us do," Luke whispered, looking back at the Sith Lord in the tank. "Father would know..."

"Father isn't here, Luke," Leia snapped, getting up from her seat and brushing the hapless chair aside with a wave of her hand. "Come on. It's enough to talk to Ahsoka about. We've got Thrawn in our sights. We can't let him go."

"We won't," Luke said, tugging on the Mandalorian's arm as he watched his sister storm out of the room. "Come on, Sabine. We need you there too."

Sabine followed Luke without a word, the pair walking out of the open door and into the hallway after Leia. The door hissed closed, the room left dimly lit by the light of the bacta tank, and the swirling, inky black within the depths of the holocron began to glow red.