Halfway to Martyrdom
Chapter 3
Ezra didn't know how long he'd been asleep in the vents, but he woke up with more back pain than anyone his age had the right to experience. That, and he was hungrier than a Lothwolf. He didn't know what his next steps were more generally, but eating seemed like a good place to start.
Where would he find food? Ezra's experience navigating star destroyers did not include locating their cafeteria. Vents would be harder to navigate than hallways in any circumstances, but a heavily damaged ship like this one was bound to have more dead ends than usual. If Ezra wasn't careful, he could spend hours crawling in circles.
Wait… did he have to stick to the vents? If Ezra stole a uniform and kept his head down, he might have an easier time in the corridors. The lights weren't on out there. It wouldn't look weird to wear a damaged suit now. All Ezra had to do was find a mostly-intact corpse and steal its clothes. Then he would hide both his normal clothes and the corpse so no on realized what he'd done. The rubble gave him plenty of places that crewmembers wouldn't find right away.
Ezra's thoughts came in sluggish treads. This was due in no small part to the headache left over from the battle. Keeping his plans straight was hard enough. Coordinating movement required he use the utmost extent of his abilities. No way was he fighting his path through the ship.
First things first: he should get away from the upper bridge. Thrawn had seen him up here. Ezra doubted Thrawn would ignore him forever.
Things must be really bad if he hadn't captured Ezra already. Ezra hadn't moved since their last encounter. Hadn't until now, anyway.
Ezra sighed, heaving himself over onto his hands and knees. His shin rammed into the side of the vent, sending an echo down the shaft. He froze, waiting for the sound of a pursuit.
Nothing came. There must not be any survivors in the area. Where was everyone?
Ezra began his journey with a silent, slothlike rhythm. He cringed when his stomach growled, once again sending sound waves down the metal passage. Until he found food, Ezra couldn't do anything to mask the sound.
If he'd known he was going to live, Ezra would have eaten before the battle. As it was, he'd been too focused on his plan to worry about the needs of his body. Action had given him the adrenaline he'd needed to overcome hunger. Now that the adrenaline had receded. Ezra was more aware of his body than ever. He was weak, too weak to be infiltrating an Imperial star destroyer. His only consolation was that everyone else on board should be weak as well. If Ezra was retreating out of his battle frenzy, they should be leaving theirs too.
Stars, these passages were dented. How did dents happen this far into a ship? The purrgil and asteroids hit the outer layers of the vessel. Ezra used to fit with ease through ventilation shafts, and now he was struggling. Sure, he'd grown over the years, but not very much.
As he shimmied through the shaft, the greatest smell ever took to the air. Ezra's mouth watered from one inhalation.
Somebody, somewhere. Someone… had meat.
Ezra nearly abandoned his plans then and there. He had to wrest himself away from following the smell blindly and exit the vent a few corridors from where he'd entered. He glanced around for survivors before sliding out. It was hard to see without the lights. His exit was less than graceful; Ezra landed stomach first on top of a fallen stormtrooper.
He winced. Broken trooper armor had no reason to be this pointy. Ezra certainly wasn't stealing this guy's uniform. He rolled off the corpse, checking himself for wounds before standing. His clothes had a few tears, but Ezra's worst injuries were bruises. Compared to the guy he'd landed on, he was blessed.
Ezra thought he'd have to wander to find another corpse, but that wasn't the case. There were three dead bodies in this hallway alone, each impaled or crushed by a different piece of debris. The scent of death was getting thick, and Ezra's empty stomach gurgled louder in disgust. Ezra had seen the aftermath of battles before, but the smell seemed to get worse every time. And he wanted to wear that stench?
If the crew didn't do something about the bodies soon, it was only going to smell worse. Festering corpses made living people sick. Of all the ideas Ezra had for how to tie loose ends from the battle, a slow succumb to disease was not on his list. Ezra was no torturer. Even his worst enemies deserved a quick death.
Ezra lit his lightsaber for a split second, then chose the corpse with the fewest tears in her clothes. He put his saber away and ran up to her. In his brief examination, the corpse looked like an enlistee of some kind and seemed to have died of a massive head wound. Blood caked her orange hair, darkening the color to a clumpy reddish brown. Some had spilled onto her uniform, but the color wasn't as noticeable on the dark fabric. More importantly, she appeared to be his approximate size. At this point, Ezra would stick out more with ill-fitting clothes than he would with bloody ones.
If Ezra thought longer about what he was about to do, he may have talked himself out of it. As it was, he lacked the mental state to do much debating. His fingers fumbled with the dead enlistee's collar, barely getting the top button undone before another sound overtook the corridor.
Footsteps.
Ezra hid behind a twisted alcove, crouching low to the ground to avoid eye level. He craned his neck to get a better look of who was coming.
Two enlistees and a flashlight turned the corner, groaning at the sight of dead bodies. Ezra struggled to make out their features. One individual had lost his cap in the battle and his thick, textured black hair was sticking up in all directions. "Dammit, they're up here too."
"They're everywhere," the other enlistee agreed. His cap remained on his head, obscuring his facial features. "I hate this job."
Black Hair shook his head. "Someone's gotta do it. We're lucky not to be injured."
Cap Dude snorted. "We're unlucky enough to be stuck here dragging bodies out the airlock. I didn't sign up to strip peoples' corpses and wrap them in shipping paper."
"You'd rather… never mind. I didn't sign up for this either." Black Hair lifted the corpse Ezra had been fiddling with from her place among the busted ceiling tiles. "I hate remembering the people we find. Did you know this chick?"
Cap Dude shook his head. "I don't work in arms repair."
How did he know that woman was from arms repair? Did he see something on her uniform that Ezra hadn't? Ezra was decent at reading stormtrooper armor, but he'd never bothered learning the markings of officers or techs or anybody else. A big badge made someone important. What was there to know beyond that?
"She was a small arms tech. Wilkes." Black Hair offered a rueful smile. "She had the best impressions of senior officers. They were so spot on, it was terrifying. She could even do Thrawn."
"I never heard them." Cap Dude grabbed the trooper Ezra had fallen on by the underarms, struggling with the man's weight. "Never will, either."
"Yeah…"
"We're gonna have to come back for the third guy." Cap Dude shoved the flashlight in his mouth, its light facing the corpse whose blonde hair had turned gray from dust. Both living Imperials were walking backwards as they dragged their corpses on the floor.
"Sorry, Wilkes. Sorry… trooper. Rest in peace."
Ezra waited for the pair to turn the corner, then followed them. If the living crew were going to strip corpses for him, then Ezra didn't have to hide any bodies. He could steal Wilkes' clothes while these two tossed her body into space.
Black Hair and Cap Dude didn't say anything else on their journey. Ezra could hear the occasional grunt from Cap Dude as he dragged his trooper corpse around corners, but the rest of the hall was quiet. One sound, and those two would discover Ezra.
Which is why it was so inconvenient when Ezra's stomach growled for a third time. He scrambled to get behind another alcove, racing to obscure himself from view before the Imperials looked up.
"You hear tha'?" Cap Dude asked, struggling to enunciate. "Groaning noise?"
"Huh? ...Oh. Must be the ship. Chimaera's been making all sorts of weird noises since we got here. Star destroyers just… don't belong in asteroid fields."
"No shi'." Cap Dude's voice dripped with sarcasm. He resumed his backward trek soon after. "Leh jus' be done wih this."
The rest of the journey to the airlock passed without incident. When they got to the airlock's opening, Ezra saw a small pile of bodies clustered before the entrance. Next to the corpses were rolls of shipping paper.
Once the flashlight was out of his mouth, Cap Dude said what Ezra was thinking. "This is going to suck."
"I'll go back and get the guy we left behind. You can start taking the clothes." Black Hair volunteered, tan lips pursed together. He took the flashlight and turned to walk back before Cap Dude could object. Ezra crouched down and hid as Black Hair strode past him.
"Do I have to get the underwear too?"
"I think so!" Black Hair called back without turning around. He turned a corner, exiting Ezra's line of sight. Ezra peeked around the corner at what he could see of Cap Dude.
"I hate my life," Cap Dude grumbled, pulling Wilkes toward him from the top of the pile. "Sorry, lady. If things were any different, I'd be one hell of a creep for doing this."
Good. He was doing Wilkes first. The longer Ezra stayed in this position, the more likely one of the Imperials would notice him. Ezra would wait for Cap Dude to strip Wilkes (sans underwear), take the clothes while Cap Dude was distracted, and break for it until he found a place to change. If the Force was still on his side, Cap Dude would have the clothes ready for him before Black Hair got back. Black Hair had to drag a body over here, so he shouldn't be fast.
Cap Dude's fingers stumbled over Wilkes' waist. He wanted to pull the tunic over the corpse's head but didn't want to touch the body in inappropriate places. The result was that Wilkes' body flopped around as he was stripping it, landing in his lap more than once.
"Unnnnnh huh huh!" Cap Dude groaned each time the corpse did that. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. The supply chief said we need all the spare clothes we can get. I'm following orders, I promise."
Wilkes had no response. Once Cap Dude got the corpse's tunic off, he tossed it to the side. Now that he'd figured the tunic out, removing her undershirt went significantly faster. Cap Dude debated what to remove next, electing for the shoes and socks before disturbing any undergarments. Then, with no small amount of trepidation, Cap Dude unbelted and unbuckled Wilkes' pants. The last pieces Ezra wanted to steal.
Cap Dude apologized throughout as he removed Wilkes' pants. From this angle, Ezra could almost see the green collecting in Cap Dude's cheeks. If Cap Dude had anything in his system, he was probably going to vomit soon. Ezra wanted to get the clothes away before that happened.
Ezra turned the corner to the opposite side of the corridor while Cap Dude wasn't looking. There was an open room on that side, a mostly empty closet Ezra could hide in. He was going to use the Force to steal the clothes he needed. Getting too close to Cap Dude was a risk Ezra wasn't up to taking at the moment.
Ezra took the tunic and undershirt first. He floated them ankle height from the ground, straining to make sure nothing dragged or made noise. Ezra was still exhausted from using the Force in battle; using it here took all his concentration.
Once the tunic and shirt had safely landed in the closet, he took the shoes next. By this point, Cap Dude had thrown Wilkes' pants aside and was having a crisis over what he needed to strip next. The enlistee was frozen, voice trapped in a low whine of dread.
As Ezra was floating the pants towards him, the clothing was featured in a circle of white light. Black Hair was back!
Ezra hurried the last article of clothing toward him, grabbing it in his arms and shutting everything in the closet. He closed the door as silently as he could. Helping him disguise the noise was Black Hair's frightened scream. The body he'd been dragging hit the floor as he ran towards Cap Dude. "Did you see that?!"
"What?" Cap Dude came back to reality at the sound. "What did you see?"
"Flying pants!"
"Pants don't fly. Wilkes' stuff is all right… here," Cap Dude's voice trailed off as he (presumably) turned around. "What in the… where did they go? Why do I only have socks left?"
"It all flew away! Did you not see it?"
"No. Clothes don't fly."
"Then where are they?"
"I don't know! You're the one who saw the floating pants. Where did they float to?"
"That way!" Oh no. Were they coming for Ezra? Ezra needed to make a move. Quickly.
"I don't see them now. Are you sure you saw them?"
"Where else would they have gone? We're the only ones assigned to this area, right? No one else is up here."
Let's see… this closet didn't have any vent openings, but it did have a shelf close to the ceiling. Ezra threw his new uniform up there first, then looked for a way to hide his person.
The voices were getting closer. "There may not be anyone living up here. Lots of dead people, though…"
"What are you saying, man? Ghosts don't exist. Even if they did, what would they need their uniform for?"
"To keep serving the Chimaera?"
"We're not some ghost crew! Though if the ghosts would like to do our work for us, they can." They were right in front of the closet now. Ezra was panicking inside.
He had his lightsaber, but what if they had comms? What if they started a crew-wide search for him? Ezra didn't know how he would end the rest of the ship yet. He needed more time.
He needed food. This was taking way too long.
"Was this door open when we first got here?" Black Hair asked.
"I don't think so. Why, you think the clothes are hiding in there?"
"I don't know. I've never had clothes walk away from me before."
"...We don't know what happened here, and we have a schedule to keep. Do you think the supply people are gonna notice we lost one uniform?" Cap Dude's voice was strained. "I don't know what else we can do about this. We could spend hours looking for one uniform, or we could get twelve more and finish our shift with results."
"Should we tell people this happened?"
"Tell them what? We saw a uniform float away on its own? A ghost stole Wilkes' old clothes? They'll send us to the medbay."
Black Hair snorted. "No they won't. Medbay's full."
"You know what I mean. Now let's get back to our seriously crappy jobs."
"...Fine. Help me get this last guy in the pile."
Well this was an unbelievable stroke of luck. Ezra changed clothes in the closet as fast as he could, leaving his own clothes on that top shelf. The pants were tight on Ezra and the shirt left room where it didn't need to, but it was the right length on his limbs, and the shoes almost fit. While he could still hear the two Imperials in the adjacent hallway, Ezra snuck out of the closet and ran down the corridor, taking the first turn he could to get out of sight.
Karabast! He needed a cap. Wilkes' was probably still in the rubble somewhere. He'd pick one up from the first body he saw with one, assuming the color matched. Basic uniform rules said he couldn't put a green cap on a gray uniform.
The path ahead was (unfortunately) free of corpses. The crew must have gotten them up already. Probably a good thing overall, even if it was inconvenient for Ezra.
As he traveled down the levels of the ship, Ezra reunited with both light and the smell that had enchanted him earlier. He followed it without a thought until he heard voices again. Modulated voices. Coming right for him, nonetheless.
Ezra ripped a vent cover off and leapt into the shaft before anyone could see him. His aim was altered by a tremor that shook the ship as he jumped, causing him to bang his right shoulder on the way in. He struggled not to cry out.
"Kriffing asteroids." A trooper cursed for him. The trooper picked up the vent cover as Ezra scurried out of sight down the shaft. "The sooner we get out of here, the better."
Ezra debated whether or not to exit the vents again. These vents would be easier to navigate than the dark ones on the upper levels. He'd panicked when he'd heard those troopers, and it sounded like he was getting closer to where the people were. Maybe he could find the kitchens on this level. The meat smell was far stronger here.
Cap and food. Cap and food. Those were Ezra's only motivators at this point. He crawled through the vents by virtue of his nose, cringing when his stomach shook the passage again.
His nose ultimately did lead him to the kitchen. Large cuts of meat were being roasted over a wood fire, an odd choice given the electric stove. Between this and the dark corridor he'd awoken in, Ezra could only assume the ship was low on power. That sucked.
Ezra didn't wait around. He looked around for the spot where cooks put finished meat on trays. He waited for a time when no one was watching the trays, and lifted a giant slab up to a few centimeters from the sibling. The more Ezra avoided people's natural eye level, the better.
He salivated as the meat got closer. Ezra undid the vent cover with his free hand, careful not to drop it or the meat onto the kitchen below. Both would be a travesty.
Silent celebration rose into Ezra's throat as his hands closed around the meat. He screwed the vent cover back on just in case someone looked, but took his first bites then and there.
It was delicious. Very gamey, but somehow still tender. It reminded Ezra of the few nights where he and the Ghost Crew had caught food on Lothal instead of lugging around the packaged kind. He wondered where an Imperial ship had gotten meat like this.
Right as he thought that, the doors to the kitchen burst open. Two crewmembers, each carrying empty trays, raced through the kitchen. They left their empty trays by a giant sink for washing and grabbed two full trays of the meat.
"They like it?" One of the cooks asked.
One server nodded enthusiastically. "They love it. Hunger is the best spice."
"Good. Eating keeps the strength up. Strength is needed after any battle."
"Yeah. Everyone is surprisingly cool with eating the enemy. I wonder if purrgil meat will catch on."
Ezra sputtered, half chewed bites spewing out of his mouth. He was eating purrgil?!
Not just any purrgil, but… that purrgil. The runt who'd stuck by Ezra when the rest of his flock left. The one who'd trusted Ezra to guide them through, only for Ezra to let him down. The one Ezra was now feasting on the flesh of.
"What was that noise?"
Hunger and guilt waged war in Ezra's stomach, causing him two types of pain. It felt sick to eat an animal Ezra had once bonded with. A fallen ally. Ezra wouldn't eat one of his fellow rebel soldiers, now would he?
At the same time… he needed the food. Ezra hadn't killed the purrgil planning to eat him. He hadn't planned his death at all. He just needed food before he could form another plan. The purrgil's body would be eaten whether Ezra participated or not. There was nothing Ezra could do about what had already transpired.
"It sounded like it came from the vents."
Karabast. Ezra didn't need to think. He needed to run. He twisted himself in a loop turning around in the cramped vent. He took the meat with him as he scampered away from the kitchen. He speed-crawled for a solid minute until he was exhausted. It was getting impossible to keep his panting silent. Ezra clutched the still-warm meat to his chest, shuddering.
He was alone. His only ally out here had died in battle. Ezra was about to eat his ally's remains.
He had to do it. Ezra had to do what it took to see this mission through. He needed to find a way to end this ship for good. His loneliness would end when he joined Kanan on the cosmic side of the Force. Not sooner.
"I can do it, Kanan. I promise I'll see this through."
Ezra could do this. No matter how exhausted he was. By the will of the Force, he would find a way.
Hammerly oversaw the recovery effort with two questions in her mind: where was Bridger, and what would he do to sabotage them? She kept her eyes open for the smallest inconsistency, the tiniest shred of evidence he was operating on their ship.
She found it first among the galley crew. Two cooks were gossiping about noises they'd heard in the vents. When they opened the vent in the kitchen to look, they found crumbs of purrgil scattered at the entrance. Bridger had located their food prep operations. What had he planned to do with it? Scope it out? Steal food for himself? Poison them?
Hammerly shook her head at that last thought. There was no sign anyone had been poisoned at dinner. If Bridger did intend to attack their food supply, he hadn't done it yet.
He must be doing reconnaissance first. He wanted to know the ship's conditions so he could launch the second phase of his nefarious plan. With most of the ship in recovery mode, the crew was ill-prepared to weather another attack. Most of the crew wasn't prepared at all for a run in with a rebel Jedi. Thrawn had seen to that. Hammerly understood her commander's priorities; it was a liability either way for them. Either they told people about Bridger and idiots died trying to play hero, or they didn't tell people about Bridger and the rebel picked them off in the dark.
Hammerly felt the burden settle on her shoulders, landing atop the weight of exhaustion already present. She needed to rest, but she couldn't. How would she sleep knowing the man who'd killed thirty thousand of her men wandered the vents? How could anyone sleep after the loss they'd suffered today?
But Hammerly could do this. It didn't matter how exhausted she was. With the Emperor's grace, this crew would find a way.
A/N's: It probably doesn't look it, but I rewrote the "adventures of Black Hair and Cap Dude" section four times. This chapter was a pain in the ass to put together. Coming off the excitement of the opening, I can't move on to the next exciting thing yet. I have to set up the scenario first. And I want to do setup as quickly as possible because I know it's not horribly exciting, but I also don't want to miss anything or mischaracterize anybody.
Also, my search history from this chapter is pretty fucked up out of context. I have both "health risks from dead bodies" and "what does whale meat taste like." I'm glad my dad can't see these anymore. Kudos to the awesome individuals who helped me figure out what to do with all the dead bodies, though: Cuileth and BlueMarbles of Ao3 are both amazing.
I'm pumped for the next chapter at least. I get to include another POV character, one I love very much. But until then, I hope you all enjoy chapter three! Beware the Ides of March!