Chapter Three

The entire left side of the Ghost's hold was stacked full with crates, and AP-5 glanced appraisingly over the ensamble before subtly shoving a particularly dented crate behind another and exiting to join the rest of his crew. They were already doing final negotiations, and their contact was relaxed and looked satisfied. Good. Fewer chances of being betrayed by the supplier.

"Good doing business with you," Ankar concluded, shaking Hera's hand.

The Twi'lek shook his hand in return. "The terms are agreeable then? We've transferred half the funds to your account, and we'll send the rest as soon as we're away."

"Good," he nodded. "I trust you to keep your word, even if I don't trust others in your business," he added, his gravelly voice carrying a wry undertone.

Hera's smile was tolerant, if a touch rueful. She'd heard several renditions of this over the last few months – most of them from her own crew, as Rebel Command repeatedly fell short due to the internal politics of too many groups attempting to integrate at once – and at this point was just tired of the whole matter. "Clear skies, Ankar."

Negotiations over, the Neimoidian gestured for his droids to follow and exited the hangar bay, disappearing past a small group of green-skinned Rodians as they passed the door. Moments later he was gone, no one the wiser that a Rebel transaction had taken place right on their doorstep.

Zeb was already frowning at Hera when she turned around. "What's taking them so long?"

"They had to get into the base without being noticed," she reminded him – and herself. "They need to be inconspicuous and go in as quietly as possible. So no, you can't call them."

"I still don't like it," Zeb growled from behind her as they walked through the Ghost's cargo bay and into the hall, AP-5 trailing behind them. "They should have checked in by now, even if they were taking their time."

Hera bit her lip to avoid responding. It had been too long; they should have been back by now. At the very least they should have commed to let them know whether or not the mission was a success, or even just with an update. The lapse was unlike Kallus. So far she'd hesitated, but now…

She sighed as they entered the cockpit, sitting back into her accustomed seat in the pilot's chair and glancing at her fellow crewmember. "Open the comm channel and mute our end," she acquiesced against her better judgment. "If we're already listening there's no way we'll miss our signal."

Her purple-furred crewmate waited no longer, instantly pulling his personal comm from his belt and thumbing it on. A burst of harsh static flared out of the speaker, and Zeb hastily clapped his opposing hand over one ear as Hera whipped her head around to face him. "Zeb?"

"They're jamming us!" he growled.

AP-5 intoned from behind them, "It seems that our operation has been compromised."

Hera instantly went into action. "AP-5, I need you on comms. See if you can clear up that interference. Zeb, I'm going to need you to go in after them. Do whatever you have to."

"Right," Zeb responded grimly. "What about you?"

"I'm going to get the Ghost clear and be ready to extract the others," she replied. "If you can get them outside, I can do a fly-by pick up. I really doubt this is a coincidence."

Zeb quickly disappeared out the cockpit door and Hera ignited the engines, waiting only until Zeb's prehensile feet had hit the pavement before lifting off. The ramp closed automatically, and the Ghost lifted vertically until it cleared the hangar walls before shooting into the skies.

The Lasat rushed toward the Imperial garrison, ignoring the startled yelps and indignant exclamations of passersby as he shouldered his way through them. Forget blending in. He had to find his friends.

Minutes later, Zeb was heartily cursing the absence of a certain, smaller crewmember. Ezra was a far better fit for things like this. Lasats were never meant to fit in tiny maintenance shafts, they were meant for open combat, not all this sneaking around… even if these shafts were bigger than usual. Designed for Human repair workers, most likely. Still didn't mean they were big enough to fit a Lasat comfortably.

Of course, it hadn't been 'sneaking around' until these last few minutes. Lasat were made for leaping – making the exterior wall the work of a moment – and the garrison's interior doors were motion sensing rather than requiring a second ID check. Zeb had actually run into a surprising lack of stormtroopers between point Aurek and point Besh until this last intersection. He'd ended up whacking the interloping trooper over the head before jumping into the nearest shaft, which he'd been regretting ever since.

At least he knew he was on the right level.

Grumbling mentally as he inched forward, Zeb halted abruptly as a voice echoed through the vent. "It will be far easier to explain to Admiral Thrawn now that I have you in my hands," a woman's voice remarked calmly. "But he seems to want you alive for some reason."

"I'll give you nothing," Kallus's voice promised grimly.

"We will see."

Zeb peered through a grate below him and froze at the sight of the hallway below. His friends were just outside an open cell, surrounded by gleaming white armor. One stormtrooper stood with his blaster leveled at Rex from the front, another covered Kallus from behind, and two stood on either side of Lieutenant Lyste (so it was him), one holding the prisoner by his arm while the other covered all three of their prisoners. The stormtrooper helmet, dual DC-17 pistols, and E-11 rifle their victims had been carrying were on the floor at their feet. Six additional troopers stood with rifles at the ready, forming a loose circle around the arrestees and a woman with chin-length black hair and a gray Imperial uniform. "What's Pryce doing here?" Zeb growled under his breath.

Oblivious to their observer, below Pryce studied Kallus for a moment, as if trying to figure something out, then gestured to the nearest trooper. "Restrain the traitor and escort him to a high security cell. We'll deal with him later."

The evesdropping Lasat tensed as the trooper stepped forward. Bad, bad, bad… Kallus being locked up separately from the others would make things worse very, very quickly, and lower the chances of all of them escaping dramatically. He couldn't allow them to take Kallus away. Zeb squirmed around until he could reach his belt, grabbing a roughly sperical object from it, then pulled forward until he could see the people below again. Gritting his teeth, he twisted his arm into position over the grate and then let the small object drop.

There was an almost unnoticeable clatter as the seemingly innocuous object hit the floor – before reddish-brown smoke billowed from it, quickly filling the hallway and cell. At the same moment, the would-be prisoners acted.

Kallus ducked and pivoted at the same moment, the expanding blue rings of a stun blast from behind missing his head by centimeters and spiralling over his head with a rippling sound somewhere between metallic and instrumental. His extended left arm made contact with his assailant's rifle, knocking it from his grip as Kallus carried through with a right-handed punch to the stormtrooper's midsection, doubling him over as the ex-Imperial's armored right knee came up to meet the descending helmet. Its owner went down like a rock.

The blast intended for Kallus continued unimpeded and hit the approaching trooper. He was instantly knocked backward, unconscious before he hit the ground.

Lyste broke from his minder's grip and dove to the floor as the trooper attempted to grab hold of him, before rolling to his back and forcefully kicking the man's chestplate with both feet. Not expecting much resistance, the trooper stumbled backward with a startled huff of breath as the stormtrooper who had been on the other side of Lyste rushed blindly into the fog, apparently oblivious to his comrade's difficulties. The lieutenant scrambled to his feet as the remaining trooper drew himself up and rushed toward him.

Rex abandoned subtlety entirely and plowed straight into his guard, missing a deadly red-plasma discharge from his rifle by such a narrow margin that he felt the heat as it passed. A moment later he was wrestling for control of the weapon, trying to keep it aimed away from his crewmate and their fellow prisoner. A stray bolt from in somewhere in the smoke smashed into the control pad for the cell, whose door obligingly began to slide shut. Rex managed to throw his opponent off balance and shoved him through the rapidly closing door, the Clone lunging after his next opponent as the door slammed in the hapless trooper's face.

No more than three seconds had passed.

The sound of several rifles firing began as Zeb, still in the vent, managed to maneuver so his feet were sticking out of the exit before letting go and dropping into the smoke. He landed solidly on someone's shoulders. There was a yelp before his unintended landing pad fell to the ground with a clatter, and Zeb leaped clear and landed on his feet.

"Sorry," he remarked automatically, then shook himself when the smoke shifted and he caught a glimpse of white armor. He'd just apologized to a stormtrooper!

The Lasat barely had time to register this before he found himself facing another trooper, and he automatically drew back his fist and swung. Instantly another appeared out of the fog, and Zeb stepped forward, pulling his electrostaff from his back and igniting both ends with crackling purple energy. "You want my friends," he growled, "you'll have to get through me first."

He swung.

One problem with these backwater garrisons: they may be slapdash, poorly trained, and unable to aim to save their life, but it also meant that brawling, local fighting styles, and pure instinct hadn't been drilled out of them yet. Rex's current opponent was causing far more trouble than he rightfully should have, using a form Rex wasn't familiar with to land an respectable amount of hits for a stormtrooper.

Unfortunately for the trooper, training and experience weren't the same thing.

Finding an opening, the Clone dispatched his opponent with a fist to the faceplate, shaking his hand out as he belately remembered that he wasn't wearing armor or – more importantly – his gauntlets. He then ran toward Kallus, who had been reduced to grappling on the floor with his second opponent, and knocked the real trooper over the head with his own dropped rifle. Rex grabbed Kallus's hand and jerked him to his feet before glancing toward Lyste. His assailant was lying unconscious on the floor, and the former lieutenant was standing uncertainly over him with a rifle held loosely in one hand.

Rex stooped to reclaim his pistols, then narrowed his gaze on Lyste as Kallus reclaimed his helmet – now sporting a black scuff across the right side – from the floor and donned it, snatching up his E-11 rifle. "You coming?" Rex demanded of the ex-prisoner.

Lyste swallowed, glancing at the trooper on the floor, then his jaw tightened and he gave a short nod.

The smoke was beginning to clear, and they were running out of time. Alarms blared through speakers overhead. "Zeb!" Rex shouted. "Come on!"

The distinctive sound of fist versus duraplast helmet rang out twice, and Zeb bolted out of the smoke and past his crewmates. "Who's waiting on who?" he yelled over his shoulder.

Rex ran after him, Kallus gesturing hastily for Lyste to follow before following suit.

Lyste hesitated for less than a second before following the two Rebels down the hall, but it was long enough. A hand came down on his shoulder from behind him and he whirled around, fist dealing the face of the person who'd grabbed him a solid crack! He proceeded to recoil in alarm as Governor Pryce fell backwards – then snapped out of his shock and rushed after his would-be rescuers.

He soon reached the edge of the smoke to find himself in company of all three Rebels. Kallus glanced over his shoulder to see if Lyste was still there, then shoved his former co-worker in front of him, making sure that he was covered as they made their escape.

The base was in chaos, ever-increasing numbers of white garbed troopers swarming into view like an angry nest of hornets. Chances were they'd never had to deal with anything like this before, and their troops had clearly not been trained adequately. One trooper tripped over their own armor and sent another sprawling, and Rex gave a mocking salute in the former's direction as they raced out the door and into the garrison's speeder parking.

Zeb activated his comm and a light began blinking, the tracker activating.

From behind the garrison wall, the Ghost appeared overhead and slowed to a halt. The ramp opened, and the ship lowered within reach.

"Time to go," Rex said, and all four rushed forward, jumping the slight distance between the ground and the ramp. The ramp closed quickly, and the Ghost shot skyward.

Behind them, Pryce and the single remaining member of her squad exited into the parking lot, the former glaring at the sky in impotent fury before raising a comm to her mouth. "All fighters, intercept that freighter," she ordered. "We want them alive."

Inside the ship, Zeb and Rex headed straight for the gunner's turrets. Kallus removed his helmet before grabbing Lyste's arm and directing him toward the cockpit, where he shoved him unceremoniously into Sabine's brightly-painted seat and took the co-pilot's position in front of him. "Strap in," Kallus advised, doing so himself. "This will be a bumpy ride."

Lyste hastily obliged as Hera glanced briefly at Kallus. "Report?"

"Trap," he replied shortly. "Pryce was there, though we did release Lieutenant Lyste."

"Good to know!" she shouted back at him as the engines revved loudly, making it hard to hear anything as the cockpit tilted upward.

In atmosphere, they could hear the whine as Twin Ion Engine fighters fell in behind them, taking a hit on their shields before either Rex or Zeb got off a shot. There was a blast as Kallus triggered the forward cannon, sending a TIE's spherical cockpit and its parenthesis shaped wings spiraling off toward the ground. Another three appeared right in front of them, and Hera swerved sharply as another shot echoed from behind. One of the fighters burst into flames as Lyste flinched at its closeness.

Hera grabbed the yoke, pulling back until they were going nearly vertical. The sky changed from light blue – to dark blue – to black with stars….

The Twi'lek gunned the engine for all it was worth to get out of the planet's gravity well, yelling, "Kallus, how long to lightspeed?"

"Eighteen seconds," he shouted back. "Fifteen – "

The remaining TIES were gaining on them.

"Eight –"

Behind them Lyste squeezed his eyes shut, sure they were about to go up in flames.

"NOW!"

Hera grabbed the hyperdrive lever and pressed it forward. Space warped into blue lines around them –

And the Ghost was gone.

AN: I realized in the middle of writing this chapter that I have never written an action scene before. And of course the characters had already decided to get into a fist fight, a gun battle, and aerial combat. IN ONE CHAPTER.

In my defense, they started it.

*Update 10-10-21 - This story is not abandoned. Shortly after I posted this chapter I fell victim to a severe case of burn-out, and I'm only now beginning to see improvement. I hope you've enjoyed what's here, and I'll post the finale as soon as I have the energy to write again.