Halfway to Martyrdom

Chapter Fifteen

The lights on the Chimaera sputtered and flickered as the vessel emerged from hyperspace. Bits of the hull fell off the ship towards the gravity well of the planet below. The debris burned to dust before entering through the atmosphere.

Through his new eyes, Ezra watched the pieces fall. As the ship came to a stop, he yanked his consciousness back into his body. It was harder this time. Ezra was afraid if he ever tried to navigate through the Force again, he wouldn't return to his own self. Once he did, he ripped the helmet off his face.

"Gah!" Ezra gasped for air. He held his free hand to his face. Both his cheeks stung, as if someone had cut them with a knife. He'd been under for less than a minute, yet it hurt so much.

Thrawn turned around to see what Ezra was fussing about. He had been watching his ship's progress through the viewport. "Congratulations, young Bridger. You have surpassed your own expectations once again."

"Yeah, whatever." Ezra felt like he couldn't breathe. His voice was more of a croak. "You recognize the planet down there?"

"Hm?" Thrawn didn't understand Ezra at first. "Ah. The planet you see before you is indeed Rapacc. It is governed by a species who call themselves Paccosh. The Paccosh have no contact with the Galactic Empire, nor do they speak a word of Basic."

Ezra squinted. Something didn't add up about this situation. "If the locals have never encountered the Empire, how do you know them?"

"Simple. The last time I met the Paccosh, I was not Imperial."

Ezra coughed. Partly from his post-navigation sickness, partly from shock. He would have asked Thrawn for more information, but the arrival of Thrawn's crew prevented it.

A helmsman shooed Ezra out of his seat. Dizzy, he fell onto a different seat nearby. The entire surviving bridge crew took their positions in the room. Each person was torn between gawking at the planet and gawking at Ezra.

He felt pressure to address their stares. Or maybe that was his headache. "Yep. Got everyone to a habitable planet. I… we'll fight each other again someday. Probably."

More stares. Ezra didn't know what he expected from their response. No Imperial aboard was likely to offer him gratitude. Not after everything he'd done to torment them. Despite that, he'd just accomplished a task thought to be impossible one cycle ago, all for their sakes.

"Today, your cooperation was pivotal to the survival of everyone on this ship. You and your allies exiled us to the Unknown Regions to, in your mind, liberate your home planet. That exile continues… for now." Thrawn smiled. It was a modest upturn of the lips, one that missed his eyes entirely. "Your victory is complete, Rebel Commander Bridger."

Now Ezra had no idea how to respond. He kept one hand over his neck, panting. For a second, no one knew what to do.

"Incoming ships, Grand Admiral." The Hammer Lady spoke up from her place next to the sensors. Why she was called The Hammer Lady, Ezra didn't know. It was the name he'd picked up for this officer through eavesdropping in the vents. "Small team, heavily armed."

"Security vessels. They will want us to explain our sudden appearance in their orbit." Like the gears on a speeder, Thrawn's expression shifted back into neutral. "It's only natural. Are they hailing us? Ensign Vridina?"

"I don't know, sir." A thick-accented comms officer spoke up from her station. "Our comms are repaired, but turned off."

"Turn them on. Immediately. Let us explain to the Paccosh that we come in peace."

Ezra snorted. As rare as it was for a Star Destroyer to ever arrive "in peace," he supposed it was true this one time. The Chimaera was hardly equipped to conquer a new planet for the Empire.

The snort earned Ezra a few glares. Drunk Cripple frowned in his direction. Thrawn ignored the interaction completely in favor of establishing contact with the locals.

As soon as the comm system switched on, their hailing beacon lit up. The beacon emitted a shrill beep, indicating urgency.

Thrawn strode calmly over to the comm station. He stood behind his comms officer as she trembled with anticipation. Now that Ezra really looked, he noticed the ensign was about his age. Thrawn's tone grew softer as he gave the young woman an order. "Answer the comm."

When she flipped the switch to answer, the bridge filled with the garbled sounds of a bantha's whinny. Some officers winced. Ezra covered his ears.

Meanwhile, Thrawn listened to the whinnies with great interest. It seemed as though he could understand them. When the message finished, he offered a short reply in a language Ezra had never heard before. He lowered his hands from his ears, curious to understand what had just transpired.

Before the bantha-sounding creatures could continue, Thrawn offered a quick explanation to his crew. "I confirm these security vessels serve the Paccian Governance. They speak the trade language Taarja, if anyone aboard is familiar."

"Are they attacking?" a lieutenant asked from his place at the weapons array.

Thrawn held up a hand, stemming further questions while the Paccosh whinnied on in… Taarja, was it? "They are not attacking. They see our ship is compromised. Much of its design is unfamiliar to them. The Paccosh wish to understand the circumstances of our arrival." Before anyone could ask another question, Thrawn responded to the security patrol in their mutual language. The two conversed for some time.

Ezra frowned. It was frustrating, not being able to understand the conversation unfolding right in front of him. He wasn't the best with alien languages, but Ezra was conversational in Huttese and Wookie. Anything more, and he would have asked AP-5 to translate.

Around him, he sensed Thrawn's crew was having similar thoughts. Ezra would have thought they were used to Thrawn leaving them in the dark by now. The longer the conversation continued, the more concerned everyone became. When the bantha creatures whinnied a certain word, the officers standing closest to him flinched. The Hammer Lady seemed particularly perturbed.

What word could have caused such a commotion? Ezra barely caught it himself. It sounded like… Meat Raw Noodle Oros. Was it a food order?

Thrawn noticed this. He (seemingly) asked for a pause in his discussion with the Paccosh to summarize his findings. "I told the Paccosh we were in the middle of a battle when our exiting navigation led us to an unfamiliar system. The damage to our ship has left us with a partial crew, and we require additional assistance before we can leave their system in peace."

All technically true, even if the story glossed over some major details. The Hammer Lady placed her hand over her mouth. When she spoke, the sound was muffled. "Will the Paccosh render us aid?"

"Perhaps. They have suffered in the past from helping ships not unlike ours. If the Paccosh offer us assistance, they wish to know our enemies will not target them for vengeance."

Once again, eyes turned to Ezra. Ezra was offended by the implications. "Of course I wouldn't attack innocent aliens for helping the Empire! It's not like they know what they're supporting by doing it.

"…What sort of enemies in the Unknown Regions are attacking innocent people for helping survivors, anyway? That seems like something the Empire would do."

Thrawn didn't engage in speculation. "We may know our foes will not lash out at the Paccosh, but convincing the Paccosh of that will require a longer conversation. Also concerning are the issues of compatible replacement parts and adequate compensation. I have asked the squadron that found us if they will accompany one of our smaller craft to Rapacc's surface. Along with a small trooper escort, I wish to bring you, Commodore."

The Hammer Lady blinked. "I-" she blinked again, this time at Ezra. Her posture straightened. "Yes, sir."

"Perfect! I'll ride down to the surface with you." Ezra stood as he volunteered. The dizziness from before was still there, but it didn't overwhelm him this time. "You all can repair your ship, and I can find my own way back to the Rebellion."

Thrawn inclined his head. "You have fulfilled your end of the bargain, and I shall mine. I told the Paccosh we will be ready to join their escort in an hour. Commodore, take Bridger with you so that he may reunite with his weapon. I expect both of you to be in the hangar in fifteen minutes."

Booking no argument, Thrawn turned back to the comm to wrap up his discussion with the Paccosh security patrol. Their conversation would continue at a later point.

With no small amount of trepidation, the Hammer Lady stepped forward to collect Ezra. She clenched her hands behind her back, shoulders tight, but her brown eyes met his blue ones head on, and her tone was even when she spoke. "You will cooperate with me, Rebel Bridger. You stand to gain nothing from defying me now."

Ezra sensed The Hammer Lady's words were for herself more than they were for him. He shrugged, raising his hands in surrender. "You said it. We had our weeks of fun. Now I just want off this ship."

The Hammer Lady gestured for Ezra to fall in line next to her. Once he did, the two walked side by side off the bridge and into the hallway. Two troopers by the door joined the group as they left. Ezra recognized one through the Force as Trooper Valencia. He waved at her, but she didn't wave back.

Though Ezra was following The Hammer Lady's lead, he noticed she took special precautions to never fully have her back to him. Why not? Was she afraid he was going to jump her?

Perhaps more curious than that, she directed the troopers from behind with verbal directions. If she knew where they were going and the troopers didn't, why not stand in front of them? Why was their walking arrangement so stiff and confusing?

Unlike the last time Ezra had run through the Chimaera's corridors, he could hear people traveling from one place to the next. The remaining crew showed a particular love for areas with intact viewports. The Imperials marveled at the sight of Rapacc below, some claiming they never thought they would see a planet again. The Hammer Lady never engaged with any of these groups, nor did they seem interested in her as her group slipped behind them.

Bored, Ezra decided to engage his escort in conversation. "So you're like the second in command of the ship, right? It's Thrawn and then you?"

"That is correct," The Hammer Lady replied, wrinkles deepening over her brow. "Turn left."

"Is that why they call you The Hammer Lady? Because you run the ship hard?"

The Hammer Lady raised an eyebrow at him. "Where did you hear that?"

"When people address you throughout the day. They call you Commodore Hammer Lady."

Her mouth twitched as they walked in step. "You must have misheard. My surname is Hammerly. Not Hammer Lady."

"Oh! That makes sense." Ezra smiled. "I was wondering why you let people use a nickname for you in meetings. Hammerly, huh? Shows you how well I can hear from the vents… um. This is the part where I'd tell you my name, but you already know who I am."

"Hm." She didn't have a response to that. All she said to the troopers after that was, "turn right up ahead."

Hammerly… that was weird. Ezra remembered Thrawn thinking about his second in command yesterday. The commodore from Thrawn's memories had a different name. Hammerly's first name, maybe?

Regardless, Ezra remembered Thrawn had really liked his commodore. He trusted her to be competent and well organized, no matter how difficult her situation was. That was helpful information because the commodore standing beside Ezra was giving him nothing to work with. "Where are we going, away?"

"My office."

"Why does it take so long to get from your office to the bridge?"

"We're avoiding people. Keep your voice down around them."

"Why?"

The frown from before was back. "Those who know you're still alive on our ship… wish it were not so. Your departure in an hour may not be enough for them."

And with that, their walking arrangement made sense. Hammerly wasn't as worried about Ezra attacking her as she was her crew attacking Ezra. They weren't just restraining him, but guarding him as well.

A pit of cold settled in Ezra's stomach. Hammerly was the boss of this ship, second only to Thrawn. Why was she afraid of antagonizing her own crew? Since when did Imperials worry about that sort of thing?

Since when did Imperials spend weeks scrounging for survival in an obscure corner of space? Those were conditions that rebels endured willingly, but Ezra thought of the Imperial Navy as being cushier than that. Maybe their weeks in the asteroid field had pushed people to the brink. Ezra couldn't blame them. For a while there, he'd gone a little crazy himself.

After a few detours, the troopers stopped in front of an office door. They stepped away from the door, assuming guard position on each side. Keeping Ezra next to her, Hammerly inserted her code cylinder into the door. It opened with a stuttering hiss.

From the corridor's light, Ezra could see his lightsaber highlighted on Hammerly's bare desk. She'd made no effort to hide it. He stepped into the doorway to grab it, then hesitated. "I can take it, right? My lightsaber? No trap?"

"We are returning it to you, Rebel Bridger. Attempt to use it against anyone on this vessel, and we will respond accordingly."

Ezra barely heard her warning. He ran towards his lightsaber like the embrace of an old friend. Though they had been apart for less than a cycle, Ezra felt its absence on his hip as if it were a missing limb. He ignited the green blade and sighed in relief.

In the green light of the saber, Ezra could see the rest of the room. It had a couple boxes stacked neatly on the far shelf, but everything else was empty. Even for the Empire, it was impersonal. How boring was this lady?

Hammerly watched him scan her room, scowling from the doorway. "Put that away. We're going to the hangar."

"Now? Thrawn said we had fifteen minutes."

"I thought you wanted off this ship."

"Good point." Ezra turned his lightsaber off and strapped it back to his hip. How he'd missed pants with a built in lightsaber-holster. "To the hangar!"

Hammerly locked her door once more after Ezra stepped out. She searched the corridor for people and found none. When Hammerly stepped forward to Ezra's right, the troopers fell in besides them.

Ezra's final journey aboard the Chimaera. In their march towards the hangar, Ezra was departing the vessel he and the purrgil had broken. The vessel he had fully expected to serve as his grave.

When the beast of the Chimaera roared again in battle, Ezra would be ready. If Thrawn ever threatened his home or his friends again, he would end the admiral and his crew for good.

Midway through their march from the graveyard, Hammerly's portable comm beeped. She raised it to her lips, never breaking stride. "Hammerly here."

"You and our additional passenger are en route to the hangar by now, I trust?" Thrawn's voice wafted out of the speaker, dry and… calm, as far as Ezra could hear.

Hammerly's eyes flashed. Could she hear something he didn't? "Yes, sir. Estimated time of arrival is under two minutes."

"Hurry." A second man's voice ordered through the comm. The line went dead before Hammerly could respond.

Hammerly sped her walk up to a near run. She shoved Ezra alongside her as she did. "To the hangar, troopers. Double time."

"What's wrong? What happened?"

Hammerly didn't spare him a glance. In her hurry, tufts of curly brown hair fell out of the bun behind her cap. "Trouble. That's what."

Hammerly rushed herself and the Rebel Bridger to the hangar as fast as she could. Bridger continued his attempts to converse with her, but she ignored him. The whole time Hammerly ran, she wondered if she should have called for reinforcements.

Commander Barron wasn't supposed to be in the hangar. Not now. Yet she'd heard his voice over Thrawn's comm, clear as day. Hammerly had one guess regarding why that was the case.

In the hours between Bridger's capture and the hyperspace jump, Hammerly had seen Barron, Jeffries, and Xoxtin whispering together. When the three officers saw Hammerly, their whispers went silent. In the moments before the hyperspace jump, the three officers hadn't called in for their final check.

Xoxtin's fondness for pilot commanders was well known among the Chimaera's gossips, but Hammerly knew better than to call this a personal threeway. She preferred to address the situation by another name.

Mutiny.

Hammerly and Bridger stormed onto the scene into the hangar. To one side, Thrawn stood with the dozen troopers he'd handpicked for the mission down to Rapacc, plus one queasy-looking pilot. Behind them was a small transport craft. To the other side, Barron, Xoxtin, and Jeffries stood in a triangular formation. Some of Jeffries own troopers formed a loose ring around their group. On the outskirts of the hangar, techs and pilots spectated with bated breath.

"There's the rebel! Restrain him now," Jeffries ordered. Two of the troopers on his side of the room rushed forward.

The rebel protested, hand going instinctively for his laser sword. Trooper Valencia stopped Bridger with a hand on his wrist while Thrawn spoke over him. "Countermand that. Bridger's security risk is appropriately mitigated at this time."

Jeffries' troopers froze in the middle ground between the sergeant and the rebel. They looked around the room for a clue of what to do. Finding none, they held their position.

"I disagree," Commander Barron declared. "This rebel has murdered seventy percent of our crew in cold blood. He has doomed millions of Imperial citizens on the planet of Lothal to a life of anarchy. In response to his slaughter of your men, you want to let him go? No faithful servant of the Empire would ever make such a choice."

Lieutenant Xoxtin crossed her arms and projected her voice over the entire hangar. "Grand Admiral Thrawn. In the name of the Empire, I ask that you relinquish command of the Chimaera to Commodore Hammerly, and that you allow these troopers to escort you to your quarters."

Hammerly looked past the officers at the troopers on both sides of the dispute. Even with their helmets covering their faces, their shoulders suggested tension. Neither side found their position especially pleasant. Hammerly didn't either.

"I see," Thrawn's voice had the same rasp Hammerly heard over the comm. The only sign of exhaustion he dared reveal. "I trust, Lieutenant, that you have thought this through."

"There are dead bodies left over in that asteroid field," Xoxtin said harshly. "My men. I'm not going to let their killer escape punishment."

"Your loyalty to the fallen is admirable," Thrawn said. "How would you propose we respond to their loss?"

"Perhaps we should try executing this rebel." Barron's voice dripped with malice. "Once upon a time, the Empire was supposed to be pretty good at that. Not that you ever killed this band of rebels. You always invented an excuse to let them escape."

"That's enough, Commander," Hammerly broke in. "Why are you doing this now?"

"Yeah, I like how you waited until after I got everyone out of the asteroid field to kill me." Ezra struggled to escape Trooper Valencia's grip. He wanted to unsheath his laser sword. "Why not shoot me while I was in bed, you cowards?"

"An interesting question," Thrawn added. "You acknowledge the necessity of using Bridger to reach our potential rescuers, if implicitly. Very well. Commander, Lieutenant, Sergeant. Say we did execute Bridger. He will not go quietly, and we have a meeting to make with aloof potential allies. How will you explain any signs of struggle, delay, or change in command to the Paccosh?"

Xoxtin's eye twitched. "Granted, it will take resources to kill him now. But releasing him into the wild guarantees he will come back to finish us."

Bridger growled. Hammerly's second trooper grabbed his other arm before he could do or say something stupid. She snapped her fingers, urging the rebel to meet her eyes. It was like babysitting her nephew, but worse.

Thrawn ignored their little sideshow. He kept his attention on the three mutineers. "That assumes Bridger proves able to navigate the Unknown Regions both successfully and alone. Astonishingly vast as Bridger's network of allies has proven to be, I am confident he has none established out here.

"But leave that aside for a moment. Do the three of you propose to take command of the Chimaera with yourself and six troopers? Or have you polled all 13,000 of the crew to see where they stand?"

"They don't like what's happening any more than we do," Jeffries asserted. "Once they hear about how you kept Bridger a secret and allowed him to kill more men, enough of them would fall into line."

"Really." Thrawn shifted his gaze towards Hammerly. "Would you agree, Commodore?"

Hammerly braced herself. "No, Grand Admiral. I don't believe your officers will go along with mutiny. Minutes ago on the bridge, we learned that you are the only one aboard who shares a common language with the Paccosh. If we want to successfully navigate the Unknown Regions back to our post, we need your expertise now more than ever." She forced herself to look Xoxtin's group in the eye. "I will not take command."

For a long moment, no one spoke. In the end, it was Bridger who broke the silence. "I don't understand why you all waited until now to do this. I am literally leaving your ship in five minutes. That said, by all means. Get rid of Thrawn once I'm gone. I spent three weeks crawling around the vents, and he is the only one I overheard come up with a plan to get your ship back to the Empire. If you replace him with someone else, I win. And so does the rebellion."

Ezra's backhanded endorsement of Thrawn gave the mutineers pause. Barron wavered first. "The aliens don't speak Basic? What if we used a protocol droid?"

"The techs used ours for scrap to patch engine parts." Hammerly quoted one of Condor's reports from last week. "We don't have a protocol droid."

"I have already agreed to face discipline for any unorthodox actions taken to escape our current fate," Thrawn reminded the crew. "Are you willing to wait for our return to the Empire to air your grievances against me?"

Silence. Xoxtin, Jeffries, and Barron had run out of arguments. At least the two men had the sense to look bashful.

Thrawn noticed this. "If that is all, Commander Barron will return to his quarters for rest. His work with the TIE pilots in clearing our escape from the asteroid field was both critical and energy consuming. Lieutenant Xoxtin and Sergeant Jeffries will defer to Captain Holt in preparing three platoons of troopers for the hangar bay. They will launch on emergency signal in case the commodore or myself encounter any trouble."

Hammerly watched as Barron left the hangar. Jeffries' troopers broke formation around him as Jeffries himself went to find Captain Holt. Xoxtin turned around in a huff, stomping off to her command office in the back of her tiny fiefdom.

"Is that it? Is it over?" Bridger asked. "Are you going to leave your ship alone after that?"

Thrawn ignored Bridger's questions. "You may release Bridger now. The threat to his life is over." Hammerly's pair of troopers obeyed Thrawn's order. Once they did, Thrawn met the rebel's eyes in earnest. "Once we land on Rapacc, your life is not mine to preserve."

"It never was," Bridger grumbled.

Hammerly flared at the remark. Ungrateful rebel. Even after having no use for Bridger's powers, Thrawn had enough honor to keep his promise and let him live. He didn't have to keep his obligation. No one aboard would have blamed Thrawn if he'd shot Bridger dead the second they exited hyperspace.

That said, Bridger raised an important question. One Hammerly waited until she was standing a meter across from Thrawn to ask. "Are you sure you want me to come with you to Rapacc? Is it wise to leave our ship without its first or second in command at this time?"

"I require your assistance in the negotiations ahead. I trust Commander Woldar to be responsible for the ship in our brief absence." Unlike before, Thrawn's voice slid smoothly off his tongue. A sign of unwavering confidence.

Hammerly sighed. "As do I." She turned to the pair of troopers who had followed her and Bridger to the hangar. "Keep Commander Woldar safe in our absence. That is your primary directive."

"Yes, ma'am!"

As the two troopers left the hangar, Thrawn, Bridger, Hammerly, their pilot, and twelve troopers piled into a nondescript transport shuttle. Hammerly took her seat next to Thrawn while Bridger sat across from them.

From the cockpit, Hammerly could hear the pilot running through their pre-flight checks. The ship whirred to life as the power switched on. Unlike the groans from the Chimaera's engine, the smaller craft showed no signs of damage.

A good start to Hammerly's first mission planetside in two years.

A/N's: If the mutiny scene in this chapter is familiar to anyone, that's because it's an intentional tribute to "Command Decision," a Legends short story Timothy Zahn wrote in 1996. I remembered the basics of how it went, but a friend of mine (draculard on Ao3) is the one who shared scanned copies of the pages with me. One of my goals for this fic is to merge Rebels canon with as much Thrawn content as possible. Hence the major presence of Imperial trilogy characters and (coming soon!) Ascendancy trilogy characters.

Sorry for taking so long to update this story, y'all. Unfortunately, I may take a little bit longer to update again as well. I realized while outlining the next part of the story that I don't remember the Ascendancy trilogy as well as I thought I did. I will be rereading pieces of all 3 books to get the Paccosh sections right. I would rather tell a good story that I'm passionate about than rush ahead with crossed wires.

Hope you enjoyed this chapter, despite the wait. If I don't post anything else for the Rebels fandom before then, Merry Christmas everyone!