Hey guys- sorry for the delay. School's started up again, and all I'm gonna say is it is COMPLICATED beyond measure. The schedule changes every day- and I wish I was joking about that. I wouldn't be too surprised if updates take longer than normal for a bit, at least until everything settles down.

And as for me leaving you guys on such a cliff hanger... well. Rest assured it was completely unintended, and... sorry. :3

Disclaimer: With literally half an hour as the only time I have to myself these days, it's an actual physical impossibility that I own Star Wars or Disney. Like, physically. It, it can't happen.

Done and done- now I just gotta get back to the others and watch the fireworks. Sabine allowed herself to smile under her helmet. There was an explosive at nearly every operating system inside the bay, and when they all blew... there would be nothing of the machinery left but rubble.

She'd had to leave the finished and half-finished pieces pieces cluttering the sides of the bay alone, since she only had so many miracles to work with. But so what a few vehicles were left un-destroyed- they would seem insignificant once the entirety of the production line was reduced to smithereens. And that destruction would be evenly distributed across the entire facility, if the rest of her team hadn't had any hitches.

Dropping the bland bag on the floor, Sabine momentarily had the image of Hera tutting with a shake of her head at the loss of the pathetic piece of fabric. Oh well.

She began heading back to the open edge of the bay, ready to hop back over the lip and head back to the rendezvous point- The sound of a door opening behind her froze Sabine in her tracks.

"Be on the lookout- the rebels could be hiding anywhere in here." The filtered voice followed the marching footsteps of several stormtroopers, only just louder than the machinery around her.

How did they know!?

Sabine darted behind a computer terminal, once again activating her helmet's scanner and peering around towards the entrance to the tower. She picked up four readings- four bucket-heads that were sticking together as a unit and moving out to search the bay.

Did Chopper's loop not last as long as we thought it would? It's only been ten minutes- it shouldn't have deteriorated that quickly, Chop's a natural at coding!

Sabine pulled her head back behind the terminal quickly as the patrol came closer. She'd have to take them out- either that or sneak past them and out to the northern bay to join up with the others. Sabine was leaning more towards the latter option... if they could escape with at least some degree of stealth, it would go a long way towards ensuring a successful escape. Plus, if these stormtroopers saw her and managed to convey to their superiors that she was alone, that would lead the Imperial officers to conclude the rest of the crew was scattered around elsewhere.

No, sneaking out from the bay was most probably the best choice of action. Anything to make sure no more attention was brought to their presence in the factory- the bucket-heads wouldn't have a clue the rest if the Spectres were elsewhere until their facility was blown.

Shifting from her hidden position behind the terminal, Sabine was once again grateful for the machine noise that would drown out whatever sound she made. It'd make her escape that much easier: and mask her communication with Kanan.

Keying in the Jedi's frequency on her wrist device as she moved, Sabine nevertheless still kept an eye on the approaching Imperials. They were being smart in not splitting up- divided, they would have made much easier targets. Sabine hoped they knew just how lucky they were that she'd decided on a stealthy exit instead.

"Spectre one, come in- I've got a patrol in here, our exit might have to be a little rushed." She half-whispered, edging around a corner and careful to keep her body from the hot sparks that flew from the welding machines. There was no response.

"Spectre one?" Only static filtered in through her helmet's microphones, and Sabine felt a little pool of dread start to form in the bottom of her stomach. "Spectre five? Two? Six? Three?!" No one answered, and the little pool turned into a full-blown lake. The communications were jammed.

The Empire'd known they'd be coming.

It was a trap.

Okay, change of plans- immediate exit, NOW. If their presence was known to the Imperials, that meant there were teams inside both Zeb and Kanan's areas as well- they were all being hunted. The bucket-heads were probably sending patrols into every part of the base, to try and find the Ghost crew and ambush them. Which meant they had to get out now, before they had to run for their lives.

Sabine had made it all of three and a half steps before she stopped again.

Ezra.

He wouldn't know. He'd have no reason to comm anyone, he wouldn't know the communications were jammed... and unless they were throwing stormtroopers in the vents, Sabine doubted very much he'd have any idea there were patrols on the lookout for them, either. And with no way to contact him, the crew wouldn't be able to warn him of the trap until it was too late-

Wait- why did they wait so long until coming after us? If they knew we were here, why didn't they just come try to find us as soon as we got here? Scratch that, why weren't they already looking for us? Why wait? Unless...

Unless the Empire had known they'd be coming, but not exactly when. Unless all they needed was a sign that the Ghost crew was there before hunting them down. Which meant something had happened to one of the Spectres that'd alerted the Imperials to their presence. Since Chopper's looping code was one of the best, Sabine doubted either Kanan or Zeb had been spotted. Which only left-

Well, that's another change of plans. Sorry boys, you're not so lucky now.

If the Empire already knew the crew was in the tower, that pretty much eliminated the absolute need for stealth. Sure, it'd help, but the bucket-heads already knew they were in the facility. So a little action wouldn't hurt... her.

Springing atop the conveyer belt of identical metal husks, Sabine ran across it, heading backwards towards the doors and straight for the troopers. She ducked under mechanical arms and welders, twisting through metal limbs that had yet to take on the shape of the vehicle they were meant for, and jumped for a solid arch above the belt. She grabbed onto it with both hands and swung off of it- propelling her outstretched legs straight into one of the stormtrooper's heads.

They all cried out in shock, but Sabine was already using one man's face as a springboard to leap and punch another before they'd even lifted their guns. And by the time the two remaining ones had drawn their blasters, Sabine had already pulled her own and quickly dispatched them in seconds.

"Sorry guys- duty calls." And she sprinted over their unconscious bodies, running for the set of blast doors that would lead her into the tower. She knew what floor Ezra had been assigned to- and she guessed if the Empire'd taken notice of his presence, he'd probably be in the very center of their operations.

Briefly, Sabine recognized just how reckless she was being. She was literally charging headfirst into the enemy's territory, because she was half-convinced Ezra was in trouble.

Hey- even if he's not, he still won't have any idea about the trap, and we're all going to have to leave now if we want to get out without dying. This isn't just because of some weird inner struggles of mine... and there is a very real possibility that he's in trouble. I have totally legit reasons for running in here.

Still. Sabine couldn't shake the feeling she'd gotten before when thinking about if Ezra died. Whether or not she had romantic feelings for the Spectre, she still feared for him. And if any foolish Imperial tried to stop her from getting him out of whatever trouble he'd landed in, woe onto them.

Nothing was stopping her.

No no no no no no NO this is not good, this is NOT GOOD we need to get OUT NOW-

As if he'd be able to.

Three guards at the door. Four along the walls, two behind him, his hands cuffed in front of him, and his lightsaber on commander Morden's belt. The two bombs he'd been holding were on the desk in front of him, and with so many eyes in the room with him, Ezra couldn't even so much as twitch in their direction without at least five blasters leveling themselves at his face.

The Empire had, Ezra'd grudgingly admitted, effectively trapped him. If his heart hadn't been desperately thundering against his ribcage, he could almost have admired their work.

As commander Morden had gloatingly explained, he'd had suspicions that his facility would be attacked ever since the Ghost crew had taken out the mines. He'd heard of how the ventilation shafts had been used against the Empire, and so had trapdoors installed above the central areas in the tower that he believed would be targeted.

And Ezra hadn't noticed it. He hadn't noticed the latches on the ducts he'd been crawling over, and had been appropriately punished for it- now, Morden had ordered his men to hunt down the rest of the crew.

Because Ezra had screwed up.

And now, with Morden slowly pacing back and forth in front of him, tauntingly displaying Ezra's lightsaber on his hip with every pass, Ezra was trying with all his might to think of a way out. He needed to warn his crew- but, conveniently, his communicator had been instantaneously crushed and destroyed as soon as he'd made a grab for it. This commander was no joke- he wasn't just a typical push-over officer. Ezra had felt first-hand how much power the guy had. His left cheek was almost numb- the commander had very nearly dislocated Ezra's jaw when restraining him.

"I must admit- your particular group is quite good." Morden was saying, and Ezra's eyes were following him as he paced the room. "We didn't even know you'd infiltrated until we found you- of course, they wouldn't have remained hidden for much longer than this, I can assure you. You've been hitting far too many targets for the Empire to just shrug off their losses and continue on normally: extra measures have been put into place."

Ezra blinked, eyes narrowing. "Extra measures? Like what?" It wouldn't hurt to get some more information from this guy while he was at it...

Morden smiled coldly at him. "I see they train even their young to exploit any opportunity they get. Or were you just raised that way?"

Ezra scowled, swallowing past his pounding heart and trying to keep his fear off his face. He'd had practice. "If you think asking questions is exploitation, no wonder you guys think the rest of the galaxy is scum."

The commander chuckled darkly, shaking his head as though Ezra was only a child. "Don't forget- I know who you are."

"Well, that's kinda what happens when I'm on your most wanted list." Sarcasm and bravado to cover up the way his stomach was curling in on itself. He didn't have a lot of time- none of the crew did.

"Ezra Bridger- part of a highly dangerous terrorist cell. Force-sensitive, apprentice to the rogue Jedi also part of the cell. Known for utilizing ventilation shafts as infiltration measures, decent undercover operative."

"You flatter me."

"Son of Mira and Ephraim Bridger, orphaned at age seven and raised by the streets." Ezra bristled, eyes flashing with shock and brief anger before he got his emotions reigned in. So this guy had done his research- who cared?

But Morden appeared to have noticed his secondary flare-up, because the next moment he was right in front of Ezra, leaning in close enough to make him recoil slightly. The sharp blue eyes that pierced his own were as cold as Hoth, with the thin and imposing facial features surrounding them making his entire face seem pointed and... deadly. The assorted pieces of armor he had strapped on enhanced that look, and Ezra'd gathered enough to know those pieces weren't just for show.

"Oh yes- you are not as unknown to the Empire as you would like to believe. None of your team is." Ezra swallowed, but refused to let this creep see anything that could be classified as a sign of weakness.

"Hasn't stopped us from knocking your forces down before, and if you think it'll stop us now you're gonna have to go to a lot of therapy when we're done."

Morden laughed- a chilling sound, and Ezra swore he saw one of the bucket-heads shift uncomfortably. "Oh yes- please, go ahead and tell me how exactly you'll manage that when all your equipment is destroyed or lying on my belt." He gestured to Ezra's lightsaber and comm, his eyes narrowed into a predatory smile. Ezra glared at him, wishing he knew how to just wave his hand and make all the soldiers in the room ignore him as he escaped.

A red light flashed on the desk behind Morden, and the commander's eyes flicked towards it as a warning tone emitted as well. He moved off, pressing a control and apparently opening a communications channel. Ezra tensed, a sudden feeling preparing him for what he sensed as an opportunity.

"Wha-"

"One of the rebels is wiping us out!"

Morden's face twisted into surprise and shock, and Ezra jumped into action.

Springing to his feet, Ezra leaped over Morden, calling out to the Force and snatching his lightsaber from the commander's belt. It flew into his hands, and Ezra welcomed the familiar weight of his blade. Twisting in mid-air, Ezra landed facing Morden on the opposite side of the desk, and was barely back on his feet for a mili-second before he was jumping yet again- underneath the desk, hands jumping to cover his ears as best they could while cuffed. Because Ezra had taken the opportunity to aim the blaster section of his weapon at one of the two smallest objects in the office.

With an explosion that rocked the room, Sabine's miracles detonated.

Looking back, it might not have been the best idea to remain inside the room while a highly damaging explosive was going off. The room wasn't large at all; it just a glorified office. The shockwaves would do more damage in the enclosed space than if they had been outside, leaving the entire space a danger zone.

Of course, looking back again, it was completely and entirely reckless to just trust a simple desk with his safety when such a volatile material was in play. If his guess had proven to be wrong, he- along with the ten Imperials in the room -would be knocked flat out cold, or simply killed on the spot. If he ever told either Kanan or Hera, there would be lectures.

As it was, the desk was made of a stronger material than he thought- the explosion dented it heavily, but other than that Ezra was protected from the blast.

The bucket-heads were not.

Ears ringing and head throbbing, Ezra emerged from underneath the warped metal surface, the smell of conducted metal coming in right after the tang of smoke. The stormtroopers were knocked onto the floor, all unconscious. The flap in the vents that'd landed him in the situation in the first place was swinging violently. Ezra smirked slightly after coughing.

"Guess that answers your question, commander." Flipping his lightsaber down, Ezra awkwardly ignited the blade and cut through the metal cuffs, rubbing his wrists to try and get the blood flowing back into them. Now though, came the hard part. Ezra was going to have to run the entire way to the northern construction bay. He couldn't continue planting the explosives, not when the Imps knew they were there. They needed to escape now, and cut their losses.

I should just be able to take the elevator down to the ground floor and run out... I don't know which bay's the northern one, though. He'd just have to hope and pray he'd be able to find it in time. Whatever the case, he needed to leave now-

An armored boot crashed once more into him, slamming into his side before his peripheral vision even had a chance to see it.

CRAACK.

Ezra gasped in pain even as he collided with the wall. That was one of his ribs, no doubt... and that was commander Morden's foot.

Ezra's blood ran cold as he stared at the man who should, by all means, be lying unconscious with the rest of his squadron. The reason why he wasn't was painfully obvious, though- activated around his right wrist was a glowing blue portable shield, enhanced so that it covered a good portion of the commander's body. He must have been shielded from the blast with that the same as Ezra had been with the desk- and then Ezra realized the armor he was wearing wasn't modified stormtrooper gear, and he could've kicked himself for not noticing it sooner.

It was Mandalorian. Commander Morden was a Mandalorian, and Ezra was injured and alone with him. If he was anything like Sabine, Ezra was royally screwed in the notion of hand-to-hand, even without two or more cracked ribs. And the guy was enraged- blood was dripping down the right side of his head, tracing those sharp, cold lines and enhancing his deadly visage.

"I think you'll be regretting that pretty soon, Bridger boy." His voice was low and deadly- and trembling with anger. Knowing the signs and what to look for, Ezra could read the tell-tale twitch of the commander's hand before it even moved. He was prepared even before the man's fingers lunged for the hilt of his blaster- and Ezra slammed the guy into the far wall with his mind.

Using the Force when he was desperate seemed to be a recurring theme.

Knowing he couldn't hope to outrun a fit Mandalorian in the unfamiliar halls, Ezra took the one route he knew was semi-safe: the ventilation systems. There was already a gaping hole in the ceiling anyways, and he figured if he could fall through it before, he sure as hell could jump through it again.

He was in the vents once more before Morden was standing up again, hissing in pain as his ribs protested the quick movements. Ezra ignored them. Getting away from the enraged Mandalorian was the main priority- besides, this wasn't the first time he'd had to run away injured.

"You can't escape me!" Morden was shouting, his calm composure thrown out the window. Ezra found he liked it better when he'd had it in the first place. Shimmying as fast as he could, Ezra rounded a corner before the Imperial could stick his blaster through the hole and start firing at him. Which, as the shots sounded out, Ezra was rather glad he did. He didn't need more injuries, the ribs were problematic enough.

Karabast, that storage area's on the other side of the hole... Okay, so he wouldn't be going back there. He'd just have to find an elevator- he'd passed by one a few times in his rounds, he knew where it was. Once inside there, he could get down on the ground floor and make his way to the northern bay... hopefully before any of the crew was found.

Please be okay, just this one time let's all escape without further injury... just this once.