Halfway to Martyrdom
Chapter Eight
Ezra Bridger was losing his mind.
Sixteen days. Sixteen days since the Battle of Lothal, and Ezra was no closer to ending the Chimaera than he had been when the purrgil left. The only deaths that had happened post-battle occurred in the medbay, where the grievously injured succumbed to their wounds. Meanwhile, repairs on the ship were progressing rapidly. Ezra's secret attempts at sabotage had proven a nuisance at best.
Ever since his encounter with Thrawn, Ezra hadn't found a single unguarded repair project. Everywhere he went, someone was in his way. He couldn't sever a single wire without the whole ship knowing. He would need the Force to be sure, but it often felt like he saw the same troopers over and over again.
But… did it really matter if the crew learned about Ezra? In the immediate aftermath of the shower incident, Ezra had thought news of his presence would spread like wildfire. He had no idea why that wasn't the case.
Had Thrawn sworn his subordinates to secrecy? How did that benefit him? Was Ezra not the greatest threat to the survival of this ship?
Not according to Thrawn, he wasn't. Thrawn's words from last week echoed in Ezra's mind: "If the complete death of my crew was what you wanted, you would not have squandered your best opportunity. You, Bridger, are flagellating. You don't have what it takes to end this crew for good."
Was Thrawn right? Was Ezra standing in his own way? If Ezra made one bold move, he could deal critical damage to the ship. Even if the crew caught on to what he was doing, it wouldn't matter. So long as they were too late to stop him, killing Ezra would not prevent the crews' own end. Ezra was ready to die if it meant he completed his mission.
It was that dead purrgil who gave Ezra pause. Ever since Ezra had felt what it was like to die, he had lost the resolve to do what needed to be done. As he sat in the darkness, truths that had seemed so evident over Lothal now revealed their flaws. Alone and in doubt, his ideals felt as distant as his friends.
Ezra had already freed Lothal from Imperial rule. Liberation of his home planet had been his goal above all. So long as Lothal was free, what did it matter if fractions of the Seventh Fleet survived?
...No, he had to kill these Imperials. If he let them return to the Empire, they would oppress the galaxy as they always had. Thrawn was too brutal to be spared. Sparing him would mean allowing the bombardment of other cities to happen. Anyone who followed Thrawn's command was complicit in the atrocity. If Ezra didn't kill these people, innocent blood would be shed on streets everywhere. He needed to stop being a coward and fight for what he believed in.
It was time Ezra made a new plan. Instead of waiting for a repair project to be unguarded, he would attack it while crewmen were in the middle of repairs. He would kill the repairmen, deal maximum sabotage to the system, then flee the scene. If Ezra's goal was the crew's elimination, he needed to stop being skittish about killing people. His lightsaber was ready for action.
He couldn't target just any repairs in this manner. Killing crewmen would escalate the Chimaera's caution into a red alert. Instead of trapping Ezra with select forces, everyone on board would make his death their top priority. Ezra would only manage one act of sabotage before the crew's wrath caught up to him. Whatever target Ezra chose, it had to be critical to the ship's survival.
Ezra spent the rest of the day scouting his options. The engine would be great, but the purrgil had done a pretty good job already of wrecking that thing. Repairs were limited to the two people who knew what they were doing in the engine room, meaning progress crawled at a snail's pace.
Hm… would killing these two techs be good sabotage in itself? If that pair were the only people aboard who knew how to fix a destroyer's engine and they died, then the Chimaera would be doomed. They would run out of food and starve to death.
No, Thrawn wouldn't let that happen. He would probably just send other people down to fix the engine. The replacements wouldn't have as much experience, but the chance remained they would be able to figure the engine out. All it would take was a gentle nudge from the Force to put this ship back online. That's why Ezra needed to use his force to keep it off.
Ezra thought about exploding some coaxium containers next. Unfortunately, exploding hyperspace fuel required Ezra to know where it was being stored in the first place. As far as Ezra could see, the purrgil had eaten the Chimaera's whole supply. Yet if that were true, how was the ship planning to get out of here? They clearly had some ideas! If a backup fuel supply did exist, the crew was doing a damn good job of hiding it from Ezra.
Engine was out, coaxium was out, poisoning the food supply was out (Ezra didn't have any poison)... what about a hull breach? If Ezra weakened the ship's exterior in the right place, he could move an asteroid with the Force and ram the ship apart. Were he even more talented in the Force, he could use several asteroids at once.
Ezra liked this plan. He could even use his interior attack on the hull to lure crewmen to his location. Then when they arrived, he would attack with the asteroid, causing maximum instant death. All he had to do was ensure he selected a location the ship could not seal off. Couldn't seal off easily, at least.
What about the hangar? It was a large room that shared walls with crucial parts of the ship. It had a large exterior opening, making it uniquely vulnerable to attack. Best of all, it was the home to all the Chimaera's smaller spacecraft; destroying those ships cut off chances for escape.
It was settled, then. Ezra ignored the dread rising up in his stomach and began his crawl towards the hangar.
By that point, it was night shift for the Chimaera crew. While there were crewmen on shift at every hour of the cycle, the night shift tended to be subdued in comparison to the day. Senior officers worked days. For any repairs that required time to calibrate or reboot internal systems, they tended to do so at night. Ezra had ruined a few attempts to bring the hallway lockdown systems back online this way before stormtroopers became consistent guards of the ports.
When he arrived in the hangar, he heard two male voices on the far side of the room. Ezra could barely see them from his vent covering. One had blonde hair while the other had only an undershirt on. Both were wearing safety gear over their faces. They were welding durasteel into one of the support beams, cursing all the while. "Kriffing Xoxtin!"
Xoxtin… Now there's a swear word Ezra had never heard before. He wondered what planet these men were from.
"You know, that bitch of a hangar master could have told us this beam was folding too. We were here four nights ago! We could have fixed this already," Blondie complained as he flipped his mask up. "I don't like being in here with just a partner. I feel exposed."
Ooh, the beams were already weak? Maybe this would be easier than Ezra thought. He lowered himself out of the ventilation shaft, careful to stick to the shadows.
Undershirt was tired of his partner's moaning. "The asteroids can't get through our force field. We're not going to get hit with space rocks. This isn't exterior hull duty."
"I'm not scared of the asteroids, man. I'm scared of the ghost. You know what 'the ghost' really is, right? I heard some troopers talking about it in the mess."
Ezra froze at the mention of himself. He wanted to hear what these repair techs had to say about him.
"They're not actually hunting a phantom, are they? It's not real! It's just a story people are telling to explain why repairs are taking so long. As if the constant asteroid collisions aren't making things difficult enough. People just want something to blame."
Blondie shook his head. "It's… not that kind of ghost. It's one of the Ghosts. The…" he leaned in to whisper. Ezra couldn't hear what was said from this far away. He could certainly guess, though.
Undershirt tottered a few steps back. His voice shook. "Him? He's… still alive?"
Blondie nodded. "He wanders among us in the vents, searching for a way to keep us lost in space forever."
Okay, so the crew at large did know Ezra was here. That took away part of the element of surprise, but not all of it. These techs only suspected Ezra might be here. They didn't know he was eavesdropping on them right this moment.
Ezra crept closer to the unfinished support beam. The techs kept their blowtorches at their side, abandoning their job in favor of gossip.
"Does Thrawn know?"
"Bold of you to think our admiral isn't all-knowing. You must be new here." Blondie leaned in closer to his shift partner. "I heard he nearly died in an assassination attempt a few days ago. The ghost snuck into Thrawn's private quarters and tried to kill him. That's why his hallway's all kriffed up."
Undershirt frowned, his free hand twitching over the side of his welding mask as he lifted it up. "If Bridger can get to Thrawn, he can get to any of-"
"Shhhhhhhhh! Don't say it!" Blondie cut Undershirt off. "Don't say the ghost's name. You'll summon him."
Now that Ezra was in range, he couldn't resist joining the conversation. "He's right, you know."
Blondie let out a squeak. He and Undershirt spun around in circles, searching for the source of Ezra's voice. Ezra used their confusion to yank the partially-welded durasteel sheet off the support beam. He ripped with the Force and swung the giant metal towards the back of the men's heads.
The attack hit Blondie on the back of the neck. An ear-splitting crack took to the air, followed by a thud. Blondie lay in a heap on the floor. He was more of a redhead now.
Undershirt dove out of the way just in time. He pulled his welding mask down over his face. The metal sheet landed on the opposite side of the hangar. "Rebel scum!"
Ezra returned the greeting with a nod, keeping his position hidden. "Random technician guy."
Undershirt's blowtorch burned at the highest setting, giving the tool the appearance of a lightsaber. When he spoke, his tone was remarkably even for the circumstances. "Anyone can throw rocks from the shadows. Face me like a man, you traitor."
Ezra ignited his lightsaber, the green glow revealing his position. "You know you can't fight me, right? You don't stand a chance against a Jedi."
"You're no Jedi. You're a puffed up street rat who thinks he's better than everyone. You think you alone can decide what's right for Lothal. You think you can choose whether millions of people live or die. What gives you the right?"
"Are you actually gonna fight me with a blowtorch? Don't they give you people blasters?" Ezra taunted. Two could play at the insult game. "What, did you fail your marksmanship exam?"
Undershirt charged. Ezra dove out of the way, wincing as the blowtorch's hear nearly seared his ear. Ezra tried to parry back with his lightsaber, but his blade went clean through the stream of flame. He shifted to regain his balance.
Ezra jabbed at the metal part of the blowtorch next. Now it was Undershirt's turn to dodge. What the Imperial lacked in fighting skill, he made up for in unbridled rage. He tried to drive his power tool into Ezra's eye, to burn his enemy's face clean off. All he managed to burn was Ezra's stubble. Ezra put the sparks out with a rub on his sleeve.
Okay, enough wasting time. Ezra ripped the blowtorch out of his opponent's hand with the Force, throwing it across the room. It landed next to the very durasteel it had meant to weld.
Undershirt dove sideways, trying and failing to grab his fleeing weapon. He landed on his shoulder with a wince. He rolled over onto his back, looking up just as Ezra pointed his lightsaber in his face.
Ezra couldn't see the man's eyes through his mask. Only the green reflection of his own blade shone in those transparisteel lenses. "It's over. Surrender."
"Is that what you told the government of Lothal? When you holed them up for massacre?"
Ezra's grip didn't waver. His blade inched closer to Undershirt's mask, threatening to cut through it to reveal the man inside. "Why do you care so much about my home planet?"
"Because I'm one of the bastards who lives on it! At least, I used to. I bet it's a terrorist slum land now. All because of you!"
Ezra froze. Was this man for real? How could anyone aboard the Chimaera hail from Lothal? After everything this ship did to that planet, what Lothal native would ever serve on this vessel?
Tonight, Ezra had meant to kill this man. Kill Undershirt alongside his shift partner, rip the hangar apart, and ram asteroids until the ship collapsed. Instead, he'd wasted his time dueling a technician. Dueling, then arguing.
He'd squandered his chance. Right as Ezra regained his resolve to end Undershirt's life, the hangar doors swung open. A whole squadron of stormtroopers entered the fight. This time, Ezra's opponents had blasters.
"Step away from the non-combatant!" The head stormtrooper ordered.
Ezra leapt halfway across the room, dodging blaster fire midair. He noticed the volley of shots only began in earnest when he stepped away from the technician.
Huh. That was weird. Usually the Empire didn't try very hard to avoid friendly fire. He'd seen more than a few stormtroopers shoot each other in his time as a rebel.
"Stand down! You cannot run."
"Don't be so sure about that." Ezra jumped from one spot to the next, desperate in his search for cover. He used part of the durasteel sheet as a shield during his retreat.
...Kriff, the troopers were blocking the vents. Of course they were. Ezra bet they had someone waiting for him in the vents as well. Time to change course again.
Ezra threw his impromptu shield at the row of stormtroopers in front of him, using the Force to boost the projectile. As the troopers dove out of the way, he launched himself over their heads. Ezra rolled his shoulders back to avoid a blaster shot. It scraped across his uniform shirt, the heat making Ezra wince.
He was having a lot of close scrapes today. Too many to pull off the mission at hand. Ezra ought to retreat until he was prepared for a real fight again.
He sprinted through the hangar doors, forcing the door shut behind him. As the troopers had been expecting Ezra to take the vents to escape, they hadn't set up reinforcements in the hallways themselves. Ezra used this oversight to his advantage, ducking into a supply closet near the floor's lift. This one had a vent for when he was ready to escape, but Ezra wasn't ready to take to the shafts just yet.
He wasn't ready to do anything his mission required of him. Ezra had faltered. When his mission to save Lothal had required him to take an Imperial life, he had hesitated. Now that Thrawn knew Ezra had tried to attack the hangar, he would reinforce it. Ezra would have to find another opening for his ramming initiative.
That technician he'd faced was no citizen of Lothal. Undershirt may have been born on Lothal, but he'd chosen the Empire. He'd helped the Empire fire on Lothal's capital city. Undershirt deserved no mercy from Ezra.
No mercy, no weakness. Only death and destruction.
Thrawn had been asleep when the attack on the hangar bay was thwarted. The alert from trooper SL-946 woke him. "We have driven the target away from the hangar. Our trackers show him hiding in a closet. Should we pin him now?
Thrawn's voice betrayed no tiredness as he answered. "Let him lick his wounds, trooper. You have accomplished your mission for the night. Send the techs you rescued to me for their report."
"We only saved Technician Rodney, sir. Technician Carp was dead on arrival."
"Send Technician Rodney, then. I wish to speak with him about tonight's events." Thrawn hung up the comm before the conversation could continue. He threw his uniform on, expecting Rodney to arrive any second.
Rodney… the name struck Thrawn as familiar. If this technician was the one Thrawn was picturing in his mind, then the latest encounter with Bridger had been fortuitous indeed.
Thrawn received Rodney in the office portion of his quarters. Haunted blue eyes peered up at him from a deeply tanned face. His dark brown hair partially covered spots of red where the welding mask had gripped his face too tightly. His uniform shirt was conspicuously absent, leaving only a grey undershirt covering Rodney's torso.
"We speak again, Technician Rodney," Thrawn said by way of greeting. He led Rodney to his desk, gesturing towards an empty chair for him to sit. "Tell me about your encounter with Bridger."
"He used his powers to rip the metal we'd been welding off the hangar's support beam. The hit killed Carp instantly, but I dodged it. I fought the rebel off the best I could, but he pinned me to the ground. If the troopers had taken one more second to arrive, I would have been dead."
Thrawn blinked, showing no emotion at the tech's recollection. "You are modest, Technician Rodney. I see no combat experience in your service records, yet you held off a Jedi for the necessary time it took to bring troopers to the scene. You accomplished this feat despite lacking a weapon."
Rodney hid his face with a hand. "I wasn't weaponless, sir. I had my blowtorch until the rebel ripped it away."
"I see." Thrawn's praise from earlier stood, yet it seemed the young man had no wish to hear it. "You are uninjured?"
"For the most part, sir. A few bruises is it." He shifted in his seat, uncomfortable in the presence of someone so high-ranking.
"Good. You held off an act of rebel sabotage tonight, Technician. It is thanks in large part to your effort that this ship survives another night." Thrawn waited for Rodney to meet his eyes. He was still waiting when he decided to continue. "Recover in your quarters, Technician. When you are awake, please refrain from spreading hysteria around the ship. The best way to end Bridger's reign of terror is with stealth and planning. I cannot accomplish that if everyone is abandoning their posts in favor of hunting vengeance."
"Ugh." Rodney grit his teeth. It was obvious he wanted to object. "Yessir."
Rodney stood as if to leave. "I have not dismissed you, Technician." He sank back into his seat. "We have spoken in this manner once before, Technician Rodney. Do you remember the topic of our discussion?"
Rodney's jaw tightened even further. "You asked me about my prior experience in the industrial districts of Lothal's capital city, sir. You asked… given the attack on the fuel depot and Defender factory, which supporting factories were most likely to be empty. This was shortly before our return to Lothal, sir."
Thrawn nodded. "The information I asked from you was meant to control the tide of a chaotic battle. As you know by now, Bridger fights with chaos as his ally. He does not care how many civilians he must place in harm's way to achieve his goals. I believed my designs for that day would be sufficient, yet his plan carried an additional dimension. I will not allow my error over Lothal to repeat itself here, Technician. You must not allow the chaos to spread here either."
"I… I understand, sir." His voice dropped to a rasp. "Bridger's allies on Lothal are few and far between, sir. We're not treasonous people."
"Regardless, I do not judge a subordinate's service by his planet of origin. Rest assured, Technician." Thrawn's attempt at comfort did not land well. Rodney looked worse than he had when he'd stepped inside. "You are dismissed. Rest well, Technician."
When Rodney left, Thrawn did not even attempt to go back to sleep. Bridger had openly caused the death of a crewman for the first time in sixteen days. His strategy was evolving.
Was it time Thrawn's did the same? Did he need to close the door on his alternative once and for all?
Perhaps it was time for elimination to become his true aim in pursuing Bridger.
A/N's: This chapter took some time to come together, but from Blondie/Carp's death onward, it basically wrote itself. I have been itching to write this scene for a while. Rodney is a character I've wanted to introduce for a few chapters now. Fun fact: his name is derived from Ezra's. Bridger... what's related to a bridge? A road. What's a name that sounds kinda like "road?" Rodney.
Also, forgive me for action scene weirdness. I'm still learning how to write fight scenes. Critique is welcome, and I promise I will get better at them with experience. Like the one from chapter 5, this one is meant to be over quickly.
Hope you enjoyed the new chapter, everyone! Thank you for all the support you've given me so far.