And the op begins! Poor Ezra... :3
Disclaimer: Considering school's starting up again, you all better hope and pray that I don't own Star Wars. I'd be too busy- the result being that the new movies and any new content from Disney would pretty much be rushed and unimaginative. For now though, keep your prayers focused on The Force Awakens...
Zeb whistled. "Looks like you got your work cut out for you, kid. That tower's looking pretty wide..."
Ezra grumbled, looking in the same direction as the Lasat. The entire facility was huge- well, it had to be, they made ships there. But still- did the command tower have to be that thick? It'd take him nearly an hour to plant all the bombs he needed!
"I can see that for myself, fuzzball. My back is gonna be soooo sore by the end of this..." Zeb snorted, and Sabine chuckled lightly from the front seats in the Phantom. Hera was flying, though they were keeping their distance from the complex. For now, anyways.
The information they'd gotten from the mining facility had mentioned other transports of ore from various other sources, and the crew were waiting for said shipments as their chance to sneak in. While Ezra had Chopper to pull him in (who was not happy in Sabine's black paint job), they still had to somehow sneak Chopper into the facility without him standing out as an oddity to the Imperials. Once the shipment of ores came in, Chop would simply blend into the flow of arriving shipments, taking Sabine's bombs and Ezra stuffed into a crate with him.
Ezra wasn't really looking forwards to that.
"What? You know I will be. First curled in a box, then crawling back and forth through the vents... by the time we're out of here, I'm going to be a hunchback."
"Ah, we can't have that, now can we? Then you'd be even shorter than you are now."
"Zeb!"
"Try not to damage anything we need for the op back there." Hera called out, apparently not satisfied with how Kanan was handling their little squabble. As in, sitting back and watching them with a half smile.
"Well, seeing as pretty much the only things we need for the op are bombs and ourselves, I think that goes without saying." Sabine spoke up, and Ezra glanced at her before quickly turning back to stick his tongue out at Zeb. She'd been... acting odd. Since the market trip, actually. She wasn't really laughing as much, and when she was, it either died down abruptly or trailed off sadly. Ezra'd noticed and had tried to get to the root of what was bothering her, but whenever he started up a casual conversation, she went right back to normal.
And Ezra knew. He knew that calling direct attention to whatever was bothering her was not. In any universe. A good. Idea. If Sabine wanted to talk about something, she would talk. If not, she would go to any means in the galaxy to not talk about it. Ezra hadn't yet pushed that fact to the point of physical injury, and he wasn't that willing to go there.
He still worried, though. Just a bit. But since another high point on the 'never EVER treat Sabine in this fashion' was to baby or coddle her, Ezra'd kept the fact he'd noticed a secret. From her, at least. He knew Hera knew; she knew just about everything. But Sabine wouldn't know Ezra knew she was bothered by something unless she came and told him. Either that or she'd get over it in silence, and no one would be the wiser.
As much as he didn't like her being troubled by something that was obviously disturbing on her own, she wouldn't have it any other way. So the best he could do was wait- for either her to talk to someone (maybe him, maybe not. Most likely Hera), or for her to resolve it. It was how she operated, and he by no means wanted to throw a wrench into the system that'd kept her running for so long. He just wished she'd talk to him.
Oh- is this how Kanan feels when I'm acting all stubborn and won't talk to him? Huh... I must be the biggest hypocrite on Lothal.
"Ezra, you might want to get started on getting yourself settled- the shipment should be coming in soon." Kanan pointed out, apparently having enough of simply watching him and Zeb fire banter back and forth. Ezra pouted.
"What! We're all gonna be right next to the gates, I can do it there! I already know my back is gonna kill me, but can I at least put off the inevitable for a few more minutes!?"
"No." Ezra crossed his arms. Kanan continued. "It's better to have everything ready for a quick departure as soon as we're up there and waiting- don't want to lose a chance to sneak you and the bombs in because we took too long getting ready." Ezra groaned, knowing Kanan had the 'logical' course of action that was most likely to not get them all killed. And, just coincidentally, to murder his back early on in the game.
Even though Ezra would be alone in the complex for most of the time, Kanan Zeb and Sabine were all using the shipment as their opportunity to sneak aboard the base as well. They wouldn't actually begin planting bombs in their assigned hangars until Ezra was about half-way done- because he would take a while. If they started at the same time he did, they'd be stuck at their rendezvous point for maybe a half-hour before Ezra was finished with his part. That would mean the cameras would be in their loop for that entire time as well. And while the crew was confident in the looping buying them enough time to plant their share of Sabine's miracles, not even the bucket-heads were so unobservant to notice a camera looping for an hour. Maybe less.
So, instead, they'd sneak into the base with Chopper and Ezra... but stay outside the actual buildings, starting their jobs once Ezra'd given his signal. Then they'd sneak into the bays- not that hard, since they were open to allow the built ships to fly out -and plant their bombs. Ezra should finish around the same time they did then, and so it would only be a simple matter of him crawling to the rendezvous point, them sneaking out of the base, Hera picking them up, and Sabine blowing the charges.
But no matter how simple the plan, Ezra knew... there'd always be a catch. And this time... it'd be that he'd most likely be escaping with a hunchback, one which wouldn't straighten out for days. Ah, woe to be he who's lithe stature be used for the greater good.
"Fine, I'll get in the darned box..." Ezra stood from the folded down seat, swaying just ever so slightly as Hera turned the Phantom. They would've gone in the Ghost, but it was too big and obvious for this stealth mission, whatever its' name implied. The Phantom was a much smaller craft, with less lights to give it away, and a smaller signature, which wouldn't even be registered at the distance Hera was keeping it.
The two storage crates were tucked next to the door, one completely empty, for him, and the other absolutely stuffed with dozens of miracles. Honestly, Ezra was absolutely astounded that Sabine had been able to make so much, even with Hera helping (Chopper had left rather quickly to poke fun at his training. Both figuratively and literally). Honestly, she was amazing...
Ezra narrowed his eyes at the small container, knowing that no matter how small he was... he was still going to be absolutely cramped inside of the crate. Chopper beeped from the corner, where they'd had to keep him if they wanted to fit everyone plus the two crates and him. Hera snorted lightly from her pilot's chair.
"I don't think he's any happier than you, Chop- just count yourself lucky you're pushing the boxes instead of laying inside them." Chopper seemed to laugh as Ezra crouched into the fetal position, tucking himself awkwardly into the corners in a diagonal sort of fashion.
Oh, what's this? I can feel my bones groaning already? Why, I'm shocked!
"No, he'd be absolutely fine in one of these. He doesn't have bones or nerves to feel cramped wi-"
"Yeah yeah, you're in a box blah blah, but I think that's the transport over there in the distance, so we'd better land now if we're gonna do this properly." Zeb pointed a large purple finger out the viewport, and Ezra lifted his head slightly to see that there was indeed a large ship out in the distant night. Hera hummed, already moving the Phantom, and stealthily brought them closer to the compound. There weren't very many scanners or cameras on the outside, only on the inside, so when their ship was brought nearly straight up against the complex's side, they knew they were still hidden.
"Transport's heading for the southern gate, looks like it's going to be unloading through one of the storage bays. I'll be waiting for you to rendezvous at the-"
"End of the northern production line- we know the plan." Hera smiled tightly at Kanan.
"Then good luck, and I'll see you on the other side." The four of them nodded to the Twi'lek, and then the back ramp opened. They filed out quickly, Chopper already hauling the miracle crate while Zeb had taken Ezra's just to move quickly. Even in the dark Ezra saw the smirk the Lasat was wearing, and he stuck his tongue out at the purple behemoth. Just because he was in a box did not call for belittling.
And then he didn't see anything, Kanan having pressed the crate's storage lid over the top and sealing it. He felt them moving, though not directly, as he was hovering in the air. He knew they were heading as quickly as Chopper could roll towards the incoming shipment of ores, and pretty soon it'd just be the little astromech for company. Oh joy.
There was a knock on the top of the crate, and Kanan's muffled voice filtered through: "Keep your comm on, but only contact us when you're nearly done. We'll be depending on your signal to start. But be careful."
"I got it- jeez, you and Hera both have no faith that we actually pay attention to the briefings."
"Well, do you?"
"Bits and pieces." He couldn't exactly hear the sigh his master made, but Ezra knew it was there nonetheless.
"May the Force be with you, and, same as last time, don't get yourself blown up."
"Likewise."
And then there was a change in his movement, which he interpreted as Chopper taking over with the crates. Ezra slowed and softened his breathing, well aware that if any sounds came from a crate supposed to be filled with chunks of ore there would be an investigation. While he had no doubt he could take on a few troopers, doing so would defeat the purpose of sneaking in.
He heard various noises, which he managed to piece together as the sounds the stormtroopers were making as they unloaded their cargo from the now landed transport ship. He heard footsteps, hydraulics hissing, random orders being delivered, and the hum of other storage containers being activated and moved. Ezra had a sudden image of one of the larger traffic jams he'd seen as a child, but with the vehicles replaced with the boxes instead. While it was in no way logical, it did amuse him slightly.
There was a noticeable temperature change- it went from the chill of the night to the almost stifling warmth of the Imperial complex. Ezra knew it was hotter than most facilities he'd been in because this was a factory- where large machinery operated there was heat, and that heat warmed the building far more than any separate heating system.
"Six minutes late, captain. Honestly, do you think this facility can operate without everyone working on schedule?" A cold voice floated above him, and Ezra held his breath. The man was close by.
"With all due respect, sir-"
"I'll not have you excuses, soldier. Your delivery was delayed six minutes, and as a result, I was delayed six minutes. This factory was delayed six minutes. And while to you it may seem inconsequential, six minutes is an unacceptable amount of time for any facility to run without. Although it takes even less to demote a blundering dunderhead- if you are delayed once again, for any reason, you will be punished. Do I make myself clear."
"...Yes, commander Morden."
The voices grew fainter, though not before Ezra caught the cold man's name. According to Fulcrum's intel, Morden was the commanding officer of the entire facility- and, apparently, unforgiving. Ezra knew he'd be staying well away from the Imperial, and felt a sudden burst of gratitude that he would be. Sometimes the Empire hired blithering idiots... and sometimes they didn't. This was one of those special cases.
Ezra slowly released his pent up breath, lungs stinging slightly but not at an unmanageable level. He didn't want to make any noise with that guy around...
There's nothing to worry about- we're all going to be hidden the entire time. No one will even know we're here until we're gone; this guy won't hurt us.
His foot was asleep. Ezra would have groaned if it wouldn't have completely given away his position. It'd be at least a few minutes until Chopper found an unwatched area inside the tower, and even longer for him to get there. Until then, Ezra wouldn't be able to alleviate the numb tingles, because he didn't dare try moving in the crate. It'd wobble or he would make a noise- and then it'd be all over. He wouldn't have that happen just because of a few lousy pins and needles.
Come on Chopper...
More footsteps passed by them, and Ezra sighed. Internally, of course. This would be a long mission... he was glad, now, that Hera had ordered them all to head to their cabins near noon and power nap until the middle of the night. If she hadn't, he would have been sorely tempted to just sleep inside the crate... which would lead, of course, to Chopper having to use alternative ways of waking him. That and he just didn't want to fall asleep in enemy territory.
Oh, how he would kill to just move his foot...
One day, I'm gonna stick you in a crate, master... see how you feel all cramped up... though you might not even fit in the first place. Oh, how you guys abuse my size...
Not that he wasn't glad to be of use and help. It was just... a little humiliating sometimes. He was stuffed in a box. Being towed by an astromech. He was being towed by a droid.
'Just think of it like he's chauffeuring you!' Sabine's voice popped into his head, and Ezra found himself smiling just a bit. Yeah, okay, that made it a bit better...
Ezra heard the hiss of a hydraulic door opening and closing in rapid succession, but it wasn't until Chopper beeped an affirmative and popped the lid off of the box that Ezra finally moved out. It was a little awkward, but it felt so good. He didn't know how many minutes had passed, but he knew there were quite a few. And they'd absolutely killed him.
"No cameras?" He whispered, stretching his arms over his head and twisting his back. When the droid chirped at his usual noise levels in what Ezra could only assume as a non-worried yes, he allowed himself to relax just slightly and take stock of their surroundings.
Chop had chosen well- it wasn't a huge room, maybe just the size of a small office. But it was large enough for the crates with room to spare, and was sparsely furnished in the guise of... well. The best guess Ezra had was a storage closet. There were a few crates similar to his in there, and the walls were taken up by shelving units filled with trooper helmets. After a quick glance while massaging his still-numb right leg, he confirmed that none of them were special. As well as showing he had no need to take one for his collection, it also showed that this wasn't the changing room of any officers- which meant it wasn't commonly or regularly used. At least not by anyone that mattered.
"And we are on the right floor?" An indignant chirp was his answer, proving that yes, yes they were and how dare he doubt Chopper.
"All right- guess I'll go ahead and get started, then. Looks like I can trust you after all, huh Chop?" The astromech beeped in something that didn't sound positive or negative- mostly sarcastic, but with the absence of an electric shock, Ezra chose to read the droid's reaction as a good one.
And now the 'fun' part begins... ugh.
Sighing and resigning himself, Ezra put the lid back on the crate he'd been in and pushed it up against the wall. It looked completely inconspicuous with the others, which was a good thing. When Ezra would be up in the vents, the crate with the bombs would be closed back up and pressed against the wall as well, so that if anyone did happen to come in, they wouldn't see anything suspicious. Besides Chop, of course, but that could be easily explained. Or dealt with, depending on the situation.
Using the racks of helmets as a ladder, Ezra flexed his fingers and pried off the ventilation panel leading into the duct system. There were a lot of vents in place, to try and deal with the excess heat that rose from the factories and into the upper layers of the base. While it gave Ezra more freedom as to where to go, it also gave him more targets and junctions to hit.
Lucky, Sabine had simply outdone herself with the number of explosives- as small as they were, they were still jam-packed into the crate and only just staying underneath the lid. There must have been around sixty or so in there... Seriously, jokes aside, that Mandalorian was a mighty one.
Now I just can't wait to see this thing blow with you- it's bound to be absolutely spectacular.
Though of course he'd need to plant those explosives if he wanted that to happen. Sighing once more, Ezra popped the lid of the bomb crate, stuffed seven in his pockets and hands, and leaped up the the vent opening.
This would take a while.