(A/N)- Heeeeeeeey bitches, what's up?
I am so proud of this chapter and so excited to share it with y'all, sorry for the wait, I went on my ten year anniversary vacation and then just got super busy at work. But we are coming around to the home stretch and I'm so happy to finally be here.
Enjoy my lovelies!
Disclaimer: *snort* Yeah right.
Chapter 8: Almost Homicide
-SW-
Klipspree - Jargoon - IRO Alpha-Four Facility - Grand Yard
THE INCIDENT
Luke was beginning to feel outclassed.
He watched Ezra push off with one foot for a Force-assisted leap over the oncoming wave of Stormtroopers.
He watched Cere block blaster shots effortlessly, her blade moving leisurely to intercept bolts.
Heck, even the blind one was amazing, pushing with both hands and sending three troopers flying without touching them.
If this was what being a Jedi meant, he had a lot of work and training ahead, he thought. He'd honestly better get started.
Luke watched Cal from the corner of his eye, as the red-haired Jedi parkoured up a wall to outflank the Stormtroopers and give them a surprise attack from overhead. He'd seen Ezra do a similar wall run, maybe it was a pretty common tactic?
It didn't look that hard...
Luke started creeping towards the right wall, behind the line of the Rebel defenders, inching his way until he was a good sprinting distance from the outer facility parapets. Checking forward once to make sure he had some breathing room between oncoming troopers, Luke faced the wall and took a deep breath.
Right, what was it Ben said to do again? Reach out with my feelings?
Cautiously, he let himself relax and tried to open his mind like the old Jedi had said to do. It was easier this time, the sounds of the battle faded away and dimmed a bit and there was a calm tranquility inside him.
He felt his feet moving, almost of their own accord, caught by some kind of energy inside him.
Luke opened his eyes and whooped in triumph, seeing that he was mimicking the move Cal had pulled earlier, his feet dancing across the side of the duracrete wall like it was floor he was sprinting across.
He was doing it! He was doing it! He—
—slammed face first into the north wall as his focus was preoccupied with his feet instead of his trajectory.
Luke dropped like a rock onto the courtyard floor.
-SW-
"Bwoo!" BD-1 beeped anxiously, watching the little blonde organic injure itself and collapse to the ground.
He tapped a quick foot to Cal's neck—a quiet promise to be right back—and scuttled down his Jedi's shoulder, hopping off to the paved stones and scittering across the courtyard to the fallen padawan.
Stepping fussily around the organic's shoulder, he nudged the prone body with his head.
No response.
BD-1 nudged again, more insistently, his little motors straining and whirring in agitation.
When still no movement came from Luke, BD-1 huffed with an aggravated beep and popped out a stim canister.
Catching it in his manipulator, he jabbed the end unceremoniously into Luke's upper arm.
Luke's face shot off the pavement as his body stiffened, eyes wide.
"Woah!" he cried, feeling a pleasant tingling rush shoot through him.
BD-1 stepped back a bit, beeping a million and once frantic questions about the organic's condition.
Dazed, clearly loopy from the concussion and the stim, Luke pushed himself up a bit, looking down at his hands and marveling.
"Oh wow..." he said. He looked up at BD, grin lopsided and lazy. "They really did give you the good stuff didn't they?"
He reached out and patted BD-1 affectionately on the head and BD-1 purred bashfully, pleased at having been useful.
-SW-
Klipspree - Jargoon - Imperial Garrison - OPS CENTER
THE INCIDENT
"Dreyn!"
The Commander whipped his head around at the informal address, in time to catch a very panicked Commander Bells Wan bursting in.
The facilities director grabbed for his arms, grasping full handfuls of his sleeves in white knuckles.
"There are three Rebel ships in the courtyard!" he cried.
"I know!" Dreyn cried, desperately miserable.
"You have to stop them!" Bells said shrilly.
"I'm tryiiiiiiiing!" Dreyn whined, pushing the other man away. "Don't you think I'm trying?! I've sent TIEs and troopers and legions, you saw the weird purple one tank a whole walker, I've got nothing left! I'm spent!" he complained.
Eyes seized with manic energy, Bells said:
"Bomb them."
"What?" blurted Dreyn, certain he'd misheard.
"We have two TIE Bombers in reserve," Bells reasoned.
Sputtering, Dreyn began to object, "Do you know how much damage that will cause to the—"
Bells seized his sleeves again, practically shaking him as he shouted, "YOU BOMB THE EVER-KARKING SITHSPIT OUT OF THEM, DREYN, OR SO HELP ME—"
"All right!" Dreyn said, batting Bells off once again. "Yeesh!"
Raising his comlink he gave the order.
"Launch the bombers."
-SW-
Klipspree Airspace - Imperial Cruiser The Revenant - Conference Room B
8.6 hours after "The Incident"
The stenographer giggled in his right ear as Gideon fought to keep his face from twitching.
"Do you mean to tell me..." he said, voice pointed and clipped. "...that a non-zero amount of the damage to the Grand Yard was caused... by our own bombers?!" he asked incredulously, voice going shrill on the last word.
The TIE Bomber pilot he was interrogating gave a nonchalant shrug, helmet tucked under his arm.
"Hey, I didn't question my orders. I just figured they'd exhausted all other resources and were pulling out all the stops to try and prevent the Rebels' escape."
"Big boom!" laughed the stenographer, almost falling over her typing keypad as her hands flailed at it. "Biiiiiig boom! Explosions!"
Giving a brief glance at her and then ignoring her clear hysterics, Gideon sputtered helplessly. "And you just—You didn't—Do you know how much duracrete costs these days?! How could you—?!"
"The bombs had a decent strafing all things considered. I hit the janky Corellian freighter at least once," the pilot defended, starting to bristle indignantly. "Barely even scuffed the court walls. Walker already busted through the other side, don't see what the big deal is."
Gideon turned to the breathing hulk of death next to him. "Lord Vader, are you going to stand for this indignity?!" he cried.
Vader took in a long inhale—hrrrrrch—and then, incredibly, gave a complimentary nod to the pilot.
"Your efforts were admirable, TP-4214," he praised. "I have a particular... dislike for that vessel."
The TIE pilot turned his face aside, bashfully. "Was Bells' idea, Sir, I just carried it out," he dismissed.
Gritting teeth, Gideon took command of the conversation again, eyes flicking to the Imperial aide. "Where is Bells, can we call him back?" he asked.
Not even looking up from the datapad, the aide replied, "Ah nope. He resigned. Skipped town soon as you were done with him. Probably halfway to the Inner Core by now."
Gideon groaned loudly, his flask in his hands and tilted all the way back in a moment, over his open mouth.
Strangely, nothing came out.
Gideon open his eyes and shook the flask a couple times.
Empty, completely drained.
He sidled a look towards the giggling stenographer, who was still babbling about "Big big booms!", her ponytail coming slightly undone.
He had a suspicion about where the rest of his alcohol had gone.
With a sigh he just let the empty flash clatter onto the desk and rubbed a face over his eye. "Thank you for the report, TP-4214," he said weakly. "Please remain on the ship if we need to corroborate any further details."
The pilot nodded and clipped heels, bowing stiffly before he departed.
-SW-
Klipspree - Jargoon - IRO Alpha-Four Facility - Grand Yard
THE INCIDENT
Hera's white-knuckled grip on her steering yoke eased slightly as she felt her struts set down. It had been a harrying few minutes of flying, but the fiery green blur popping in and out had finally disabled enough turrets for her to get the ship down.
She almost relaxed but then her sensors caught something and shrilled with alarm.
"Oh what now?" she groaned.
-SW-
Greez pressed his nose to his own beeping sensors, and then slid back, his eyes going wide.
"Oh boy," he said.
He hit the comms, opening up to all channels.
"Guys, we got bombers incoming!" he announced. "Two marks at point five! I'd raise shields if I were you!"
-SW-
"What shields?" Leia cried in exasperation, firing her blaster and trying to back up towards the ships.
-SW-
"Bombers!" Threepio wailed in dismay, covering his photoreceptors with his hands as if that would do anything. "Oh dear!"
He did not raise shields.
-SW-
Kanan heard the bombers long before he felt the vibrations in the air, felt the sharp warning tingle in the Force.
Lowering his saber, he listened to the rising roar of the TIE engines for just a moment before decided it was definitely time to go.
"Everyone get on the ships!" he called out to the gathered Rebels, turning and beelining for where Ezra had been helping Luke off the ground.
Distracted, he fumbled out for the first shoulder that seemed the right height, grabbing and pinching hard as he dragged the young man across the courtyard.
"Come on, Ezra, hurry!" he urged his padawan, not stopping once as he hauled ass.
"Um—" Luke said awkwardly as Kanan pulled him up the Ghost's ramp before he could protest, BD-1 still clinging to his shoulder.
-SW-
The bombers came roaring over the courtyard walls, one and two, right after another, the explosives dropping solidly from them like bantha droppings to the Tatooine sand.
Troopers and Rebels alike screeched and dove for cover, as blasts rocked the courtyard. The Ghost and the Mantis jostled and shook but weathered the attack okay.
The Falcon took a direct hit, canting sharply to the side as it plumed flames, and that was what finally seemed to stir Han from his horrified stupor.
He blinked and shook his head, then pulled up his comlink.
"Threepio, raise the shields!" he ordered.
There was nothing but a very unhelpful droid scream on the other end.
"Raise the—Oh for—"
Han tucked his comlink away as he pelted for his beloved ship, to somehow spare her even more indignity than she'd already suffered.
His run seemed to trigger a mad chaotic dash from the others, scrambling and tripping over themselves and each other to make it for one of the three vessels.
-SW-
Hera slapped at a tiny electrical fire emanating from an upper dashboard, immensely thankful for her gloves in that moment. Leaning back down off her tiptoes she studied the panel, out of the corner of her eye catching the sight of Sabine moving in the completely opposite direction from them and heading for the other Corellian freighter in the courtyard.
That generated a very puzzled look from the Twi'lek, and she peered out the viewport and pressed the comlink button on the console.
"Uh Sabine, that's not our ramp," she pointed out, bemused.
The tiny Mandalorian figure paused on said ramp, gesturing with both blaster-filled hands.
"Hera, look at it," she argued through the line, shrugging helplessly towards the rusty freighter. "I gotta."
Hera flicked her finger off the comms button and put her hands up in surrender, backing away.
"Hhh, fine," she sighed, grumbling, sitting back down and beginning to warm the engines again. "I guess we'll sort it out when we get to Yavin."
The Ghost thrummed back to life under her hands and she didn't even register it as Kanan pulled Luke up the ladder behind her.
-SW-
"Ezra!" Leia called, as she and Cere rushed forward. He'd been knocked down by one of the blasts, smacked his head on the pavement, and both women took an arm and pulled him up, as he groaned.
"'m okay," he insisted, even as they had to drag him limply towards the closet ship, which happened to be the Mantis.
Leia glanced aside to Cere.
"Hi, I'm Leia," she introduced breathlessly. "Didn't catch your name back in the lab."
"Cere," the other woman grunted.
"You know where we're going?" Leia asked.
"Not a clue."
Leia turned her head on a swivel. "Artoo!"
The blue astromech paused just short of the Falcon's ramp.
"Need your navicomputer data for Yavin!" Leia called.
Not questioning the order, Artoo put his third foot up and rocket boosted over to them.
-SW-
Zeb turned and fired wildly into the oncoming charge of Stormtroopers, felling at least two or three to add to his total, then craned his head up at a tickle in his flicking keen ears.
"They're coming around for another pass!" he shouted.
Chewbacca took note of the oncoming bombers, calling out a temporary pause on their contest.
"Way ahead of you!" Zeb said, turning to book it for the Ghost, with the Wookie on his heels.
-SW-
Cal stared up at the incoming bombers, concentrating, making calculations inside his head.
It was a long shot, the plan that he was forming, but he took risks like that all the time and it was theoretically doable.
The first bombs began to drop and the orange C1 unit shrieked as it was knocked through the air. Cal reached out a hand and caught it midflight, stopping it in place for a breath like an insect caught in tree sap.
He tossed it up one of the open ramps—didn't stop to check which—and gripped his lightsaber tighter in his left hand, inhaling a deep breath and blowing it out through pinched narrow lips.
Okay. Time to be either really stupid or really lucky.
He took a running start.
Hopped up.
Pushed off the wing of the TIE wreckage still in the courtyard, drawing a shriek from the pilot (who had finally felt safe enough to emerge from the cockpit but immediately ducked back down into it).
Let the Force catch him.
Sailed straight up towards the cockpit of the incoming TIE bomber like some kind of freaky mynock from hell and caught himself on its windshield.
-SW-
"Hhghnfdhfkhssskk!" the hapless pilot startled, hands coming clean off the pilot yoke as a face plastered itself on the glass.
Moments later a blue lightsaber blade stabbed through the console and the engines, stopping juuuuuust short of the pilot's stomach.
He meeped and pressed himself all the way back in his seat, until the blue blade pulled back out.
The Jedi had the audacity, as his engine sputtered and died, to grin and shrug helplessly, and offer a farewell salute as he leapt off the cockpit.
The TIE bomber pilot groaned as the courtyard came into plummeting view.
"Ah hell," he complained, right before his bomber smashed into the pavement.
-SW-
The explosion plumed in a magnificent vertical column over the courtyard wall, a fiery backdrop as all three Rebel ships rose up, triumphant.
Cal was in freefall, but angled his path just enough to catch a handhold on the parapets, throw himself back up into the air. His body arced, his feet angled, toes pointed down, and with elegant precision he landed.
...On top of the Falcon.
With some dismay, he watched the sleek fins of the Mantis spinning around as Greez configured it for high atmosphere. The Millenium Falcon was no slouch with her speed—she was climbing plenty fast—but Cal could already tell he would never be able to parkour up to his own normal ship.
And—he realized with a slight bit of panic—he didn't have BD with him.
Giving a flustered sigh, he balanced carefully on top of the ascending craft as he looked for the top hatch. Whoever's ship this was would just have to give him a ride.
He hoped Merrin wouldn't be too upset.
-SW-
Merrin finished mopping up the garrison turrets and poofed into the common room of the Mantis.
She took a brief glance around, as Leia and Ezra startled and Cere didn't even look up from picking up the spilled pans in the kitchen.
"Cal is not here," she declared.
She immediately popped back out, vanishing with a flash of green sparks.
-SW-
Han grumbled to himself as he flipped switches, pointedly shutting off the blaring damage alarm that was warning him about the venting atmosphere. (It was in an auxiliary hallway, he would deal with it later.) He'd sent Threepio out to go strap in, the hysterical droid blubbering all the way, and put all his focus into just getting them airborne and gone.
"Chewie, kick in the accelerator, I've gotta get the navicomputer up and calculating if we wanna have a chance of getting into hyperspace before Imperial reinforcements arrive," he ordered absently, concentrating on his task.
The hand that reached across his dashboard in response was pale and slender and red-sleeved and definitely did not belong to a Wookie.
Han froze a moment, gaping dully at the Dathomirian woman, who powered up the accelerator with no issue, as if she already knew the ship by heart.
"Your vessel is quite unusual," she commented idly. "But she responds very well. We will reach low gravity in thirty seconds."
Still staring, Han blurted, "Who the hell are you?"
"Right now?" Merrin said, glancing up briefly to meet his eyes. "Your co-pilot."
Han's face crumpled as he realized he was going to have to deal with yet more banthashit and he waved out towards the other two silver blips in the viewport.
"Where the hell's Chewie?!" he demanded.
-SW-
A great Wookie bellow came as Chewbacca gleefully opened up a full spray on the nose gun turret, shredding the TIE fighter intercept from the Imperial Gozanti cruiser struggling valiantly to reach them from its patrol on the far side of the planet.
"Rrrraa-aaaaghhh! Rrrraa-grraaa!" he announced.
"TIEs don't count, ya furry cheater!" Zeb protested over the comm line from his station in the top turret.
-SW-
Merrin looked back at Han blankly.
"I believe he went on the Ghost with his purple friend," she told him.
Han closed his eyes and rubbed his face wearily. "Okay, well, can you go get Leia to—"
"Oh, she was on the Mantis with her Jedi padawan friend and Cere," Merrin cut him off.
Han hit the back of his seat sharply as he slumped against it, throwing up his hands. "You any good at flying?" he asked, already giving up and decided he didn't care anymore.
Merrin smiled mischievously. "We shall see," she joked.
Han dropped his face back in his hand again and waved them forward. "Just... just go. Let's just go."
This was going to be a pain in the ass to explain when they got back to Yavin.
-SW-
Hyperspace - Hydian Way - The Ghost Cockpit
2 minutes after "The Incident"
The acceleration of the ship jumping away to lightspeed pressed against both Hera and Kanan's chests.
They both let out a breath they hadn't known they were holding.
Relaxing, Hera took her hands off the yoke to start running a few diagnostics. The shields had held up okay in the bombardment, but she knew she still needed to repair a bit of damage. A sly smile stole across her face as she worked.
"Made some new friends I see," she commented casually to Kanan.
The Jedi was sinking slowly into the cushions of his seat, looking exhausted. "I'm still processing through all of that, get back to me in five minutes," he said.
Hera's smile widened, and she opened up a channel to Yavin. "Spectre 2 to Rebel Command, come in."
There was a distinctly loud clatter on the other end.
"Hello?!" came a panicked-sounding voice.
Pursing lips and eyebrows, Hera spoke again. "Yes? This is the Ghost? We've finished up on Klipspree and are en route back to base?"
"Oh thank stars," came a muttered exhale of relief. "You were out of contact! We were trying to raise you for hours! Did you receive our transmission? What happened? Was everyone uninjured? Did you accomplish the mission?"
"Uh..." Hera glanced back as Chewbacca climbed up the ladder into the cockpit, crowing with triumph. The Wookie's bellows were as loud as Zeb's laughter as the two met in the hallway and argued over the totals.
"Fine, we'll count that shrapnel kill but that means I get credit for the one as fell off the wall!" the Lasat was saying.
Hera looked back forward. "More or less," she hedged.
"Report to High Command as soon as you're in, Ghost, Mon Mothma wants a personal debriefing."
Hera mumbled a small curse under her breath. "I don't think there's going to be anything 'brief' about it," she said to herself. Louder she said only, "Copy that Command, ETA of arrival in about three hours."
She disconnected the transmission, a vague crawling feeling like she was in trouble prickling up her arms and back.
-SW-
Hyperspace - Hydian Way - The Ghost Freighter Living Area
8 minutes after "The Incident"
Kanan felt along the hallway and doorframes as he stepped into the living area, feeling tired but satisfied. From the enthused grunts of effort as he passed the dejarik table on his left, it sounded like Zeb and Chewbacca were engaged in a friendly arm-wrestling competition. He didn't hear Chopper anywhere but knowing Hera, she'd probably already ordered him down into the engine room just to check things over.
"Hera says the dampeners are going to need some fine-tuning, even with shields at full we got rocked pretty hard," he said as he came further into the room.
He faced towards the glowing Force signature in the corner.
"All right Ezra, let's get down to the engine room and—"
He paused.
Blinked.
Double-took with his Force Sense and felt a distinct flicker of panic as he realized the brilliant presence was not his padawan.
"—Wait, where's Ezra?!" he asked frantically.
Luke stood there awkwardly, BD-1 cradled in his hands, and gave a shy little wave.
"...Hi," he said sheepishly.
-SW-
Hyperspace - Hydian Way - The Mantis Main Living Area
10 minutes after "The Incident"
"You're gonna send me to an early grave, kid," Greez grumbled as he shuffled out of the cockpit.
He stopped in his tracks, taking in the strangers standing in his loading dock.
"Aaaaaand you are not the kid," Greez corrected himself.
"Nope, sorry!" Ezra apologized brightly, giving a smile. "I am a Jedi though." He held up his emerald blade before turning the saber off and clipping it to his belt. "Ezra Bridger, pleased to meet you." He waved a hand to indicate the person at his side. "And this is Princess Leia."
Flummoxed, Greez's eyes widened as he took in the small-framed human woman, recognizing her immediately from her wanted posters and from holos of Senate speeches.
"Princess!" he repeated. Stirring rapidly into motion he shuffled quickly into the kitchen, joining Cere. "Holy smokes if I'd'a known I'd be entertaining royalty I woulda cleaned up a bit better!" He started putting dishes in the sink, frantically wiping at grease stains. "You hungry? I make a mean lecchi lasagna. Might be a bit squished now, but—" He grabbed for the dustbin and broom and pulled them out of Cere's hands, nudging her to move. "I got this Cere, don't worry about it."
Cere ceded the cleaning utensils to him without protest, and moved immediately out of his way. "Yavin, you said?" she checked with Leia.
"Yavin IV," Leia confirmed.
Gesturing with a little hand motion, Cere beckoned Artoo to follow her. "C'mon little guy, why don't we get those coordinates plugged in?"
Artoo chirruped brightly and rolled right after her, both of them disappearing up into the cockpit.
That left Ezra and Leia watching, amused, as Greez bustled around the small kitchen like an overactive buzzbee circling a flower.
"Ah nope, that's completely kaput," he declared of the lasagna. He craned his head over his shoulder. "You like salad? I got some Rodian greens that need to be used up," he offered.
Leia shared a look with Ezra and then shrugged. "I could go for salad," she said.
Greez bustled to the other side of the kitchen. "Can put a kettle on too, haven't got much in the way of tea but—"
The Latero gave a sudden, very loud sneeze.
...
He stopped.
Stiffened from head to toe, freezing in place, and it seemed like the air inside the kitchen dipped several ominous degrees, Ezra and Leia both feeling a vague portent of doom.
Greez slowly turned his head. A very calm, but scarily unreadable expression was on his wide face.
He took in a slow breath.
"Who. Touched. The feymaker?" he asked, each word emphasized chillingly.
Both teens shuffled on their feet a bit nervously.
"Um..." Leia said, anxiously checking down her arm. All she could see was slime splatter from the lab explosion.
Greez was fully faced towards them now, tension in every limb of his portly body.
"Bright red. Circular petals. Sheds like a wild bantha."
Ezra was shrinking into his shoulders, scratching behind his neck. "Heh," he said, voice small. "Is uh... is that what those vines were by the south wall?" he asked, revealing himself as the culprit who'd brought the offending pollen on board.
Greez snapped a finger to point at him.
"REFRESHER! NOW!" he bellowed. When Ezra didn't immediately start moving in that direction the Latero stalked forward and began bodily pushing him, all four hands grabbing some part of Ezra and starting to strip pieces of clothing off. "Now now now now, get in there! You want snot in the collard greens?! You get—" A sneeze interrupted him. "—Achoo!—your pollen-covered hide—Achoo!—in that shower or so help me—!"
"Okay okay, I'm going!" Ezra cried, frantically trying to pull his boots off as Greez shoved him into the narrow crew hallway.
"Achoo!—Aw barnacles you're covered in it! What did you do, roll around in the stuff?!" Greez moaned miserably, his nose and eyes already turning puffy and red. Ezra's shirt was already halfway off and Greez pulled it the rest of the way, ungently. "Achoo!—Get—Achoo!—in the damn—Achoo!—'fresher!"
His two lower hands grabbed the hem of Ezra's pants at the hips and yanked down, practically ripping them off.
Ezra squeaked and turned bright red.
Leia had been trailing after them in concern but now quickly slapped her palm over her eyes, not quite fast enough to avoid getting an eyeful.
"Oh!" she grunted, grimacing in secondhand embarrassment.
Heedless, Greez shoved the now-naked Ezra through the doorway.
"GET!"
The door slid closed behind them both, mercifully helping preserve Ezra's modesty.
Leia stayed there with her hand in place for several moments, biting her lip to keep from giving into laughter as the muffled yells and protests continued behind the durasteel.
It sounded like Greez was trying to personally scrub every single bit of pollen off Ezra's skin.
Welp, I can't save him, she decided.
The princess cleared her throat, dropping her hand and pointedly walking back to the living area. Cere was back now, looking towards the refresher door in confusion and concern. Leia got her attention.
"Is there somewhere I can try to scrub some of this gunk out of my jacket?" she asked.
Cere stirred.
"There's a washbin in my room," she said. "Soap is in the drawers, first one from the top."
"Thanks," said Leia, as Cere came forward to guide her, both women ignoring the water on full blast and the heated argument coming from inside the refresher.
-SW-
Leia emerged from Cere's room, holding her damp jacket in her arms in defeat. Ten minutes of scrubbing had yet to yield any fading of the bright green slime stains. She was beginning to wonder what Sabine put in her paints that kept color so well.
She sighed. Wasn't like this was one of her favorite jackets or anything. Maybe she could get Sabine to at least put a nice design on it or something.
Walking into the living area she looked up and muffled a chuckle at Ezra.
He was sitting huddled and wrapped in a blanket on the couch, scrunched up like a miserable wet Loth-kitten. His hair was still damp and dripping, face furiously flushed, and he was looking very intently at the floor in order to avoid eye contact.
Leia tiptoed over and sat silently on the couch next to him, giving him a look of pity. "Hey," she called.
"Hey," he mumbled back, without any enthusiasm.
There was no further response.
They fell into an awkward silence.
Leia let her gaze drift around the room, chewing on her lip. She fiddled with a loose thread on the underside of her jacket.
The air hummed with a steady, pleasant murmur.
"Greez says he won't give my clothes back until they've been through the wash at least twice," Ezra muttered.
"Oh," Leia said, inadequately. "I'm sorry."
Silence.
...
Faintly, they could hear Greez's grumbling from the refresher, as he scrubbed down the walls and floors with a squeaky sponge.
...
Ezra cleared his throat with an awkward cough.
"So..." he began, lifting his head a bit, twinging with embarrassment. "I would really appreciate it if you would... not mention this to my crew. Or... anyone... ever," he added.
Leia couldn't hold back a closed-mouthed grin.
"I dunno Ezra, that's a bit of a tall order don't you think?" she teased.
He looked at her pleadingly.
"I will literally do anything," he begged.
Her grin widened now but she decided to grant him mercy. "All right, Ezra. I won't say anything." She held up a finger. "But you owe me."
He nodded. "Yes ma'am," he said quickly.
Leia sent a look towards the cockpit. "That goes for you too, Artoo," she warned.
The astromech swiveled with an offended look.
"Bwee-doop bee doo beep," he whistled innocently.
"Don't give me that," Leia told the droid sternly. "I know you're recording us right now."
Artoo's recording light blipped off and the droid feigned ignorance, and not even Leia best glare could make him fess up.
"I'll wipe his files later," she promised Ezra.
"Please do," he whimpered.
Greez emerged from the fresher at that point, hazmat mask over his face and elbow-length cleaning gloves covering all four arms.
He crossed stiffly into the kitchen, muttering about, "Just figures I'm out of antihistamine, that's just my luck..." as he slapped the cutting board down and began to chop up greens.
-SW-
Hyperspace - Hydian Way - The Millenium Falcon Auxiliary Hallway
23 minutes after "The Incident"
Han wiped his forehead, leaning back in the floor pit, hydrospanner dropping to his side.
"All right, try it now!" he called up to the two droids.
Chopper whomped an acknowledgement and let his manipulator click in the port a few times.
The warning klaxon sounded as the life support filters were purged, flooding the pit with dusty foul gas and smoke.
Han waved it away from his face, coughing a couple times and squinting at the machinery. "Great!" he said. "Much better!"
Threepio fretted nearby, watching the smoke drift up from the pit. "C1-10P I must reiterate, it is simply improper to purge the filters with organics inside the maintenance access. Prolonged exposure to air cycler waste has been known to cause serious lung problems, especially for humans."
Chopper blew a surly raspberry.
"It's fine, Threepio," Han sighed, placing hands on the floor to lift himself out of the pit. He pulled one leg out and then then other, carefully getting to his feet. "My lungs are shot anyway." He looked down at the pit a couple moments, hands on his hips, then gestured with the hydrospanner. "All right, close this panel up, let's move on to the one on the other side," he ordered.
Both droids moved to comply, Chopper whapping Threepio's silver shin in irritation.
"Really! All I'm doing is looking out for the well-being of my organics, you could stand to learn some manners and—dare I say—protocol when it comes to relating to them," he complained.
"WUB WUUUBUB WUB WUUB WUBB WUBBWUUBBA!" Chopper shot back.
"Bullying is not how we show affection!" Threepio argued hotly. "Honestly!"
Han ignored them, going further down the hall to where Cal had a wall panel off and the system's bowels across the floor.
"How's it coming with that fuel injector?" he asked.
Cal leaned out of the opening and frowned at the mess inside. "I used to take ships apart for a living and I've never seen wiring more haphazard and dysfunctional."
"Is that a comment or a critique?" asked Han witheringly.
Cal cracked his neck and shoulders. "I can fix it, but I can't promise the sockets will stay in the same place, I'm going to have to take some of this apart and rewire it. You okay with that?" he checked.
"Whatever you need to do, pal, I just want her functional," Han told him, passing off the hydrospanner into the Jedi's palm.
Leaving Cal to his task, Han continued along the hall towards the living area. All things considered his little repair crew were making stunning progress. Threepio and Chopper bickered but cooperated long enough to complete tasks, Cal was remarkably knowledgeable about the inner workings of ships, and even the little Mandalorian had pitched in a couple times before making herself scarce somewhere, which was fine by him, he didn't really want her poking around his ship anyway.
The only person who wasn't really helping out was Merrin, who just kind of sat and stared at Han suspiciously as he stopped and entered the crew quarters room.
Han went straight in to grab his tools, trying not to think about how she looked like a giant red bird of prey perched on the edge of the bed like that and how he shouldn't make any false moves.
"I don't think your girlfriend likes me very much," he'd commented to Cal earlier, the last time he had to visit his room and find her watching him like a Naboo dactyl hawk.
"Nah, she's just like that," the Jedi had dismissed.
"That isn't comforting," he'd grumbled.
He backed straight out once he had what he was looking for, keeping Merrin within eyeline.
He had almost made it back out the door when she surprised him by speaking up.
"Would it not be more productive to keep all your tools together, instead of scattering them around the ship?" she asked.
Han was so tensed he jolted out of his skin at her voice, nearly dropping the tools he'd come for. After fumbling a few moments, bouncing tools off his hands until he caught them, he heaved a great sigh.
He pointed one of them at Merrin in warning before backing out without responding.
The door slid closed again to separate them.
"I don't question your magic ritual methods..." he grumbled, carrying the tools towards the living area. He had to sidestep another open floor panel, and hugged close to the wall to avoid falling in.
Cal's head popped up from the pit unexpectedly.
"You've got carbon build-up like an inch thick in here, it's amazing!" he said.
Han full-body startled and this time did drop his tools. They went every which way with metal clatters, some of them dropping into the pit.
RATTLE!
Frustrated, he jabbed a finger at Cal. "Don't you start doing that too!" Wearily, he began picking the tools back up. "How'd you even get in there?" he asked.
"There's enough crawlspace through the ship innards to move around, it's a tight fit but nothing I haven't done before," Cal explained. He held up the end of a plug. "Had to see where this one attached, it was wrapped around a conduit."
"Fantastic," Han drolled. He stacked the tools he could reach and left them by the open pit, deciding her would much rather have a drink than continue fiddling with the ship right now. "If you get yourself stuck in there, don't look to me to save you."
He walked away and finished the circuit to the living area, ignoring the louder-growing bickering of Threepio and Chopper behind him as they came to attend to the second maintained pit.
"Sure, just squeeze through the insides of the ship," he grouched to himself. "Not like she's been through enough today." His boots tapped on the glasslike floor as he made his way through the doorway.
He beelined for the cabinets. He almost made it.
Then he glanced over towards the other side and about popped a blood vessel when he saw that Sabine was painting his walls.
He stumbled over himself to jerk around.
"What are you doing?!" he screeched, shouting, stabbing the air with his hands in outrage.
Sabine barely glanced up from her spraying, adding another line of bright magenta to her design.
"Making improvements," she said. "Obviously," she added in an irritated mutter.
Han's throat strangled around a shrill noise.
"You should thank me, this eyesore was seriously devoid of color. Can't believe you live like this, it's embarrassing," Sabine was saying, concentrating intently on her work. (Which seemed to be an abstract rendition of herself in front of a bright explosion.)
Involuntarily, Han grasped for his blaster, fumbling it out of its holster and pointing it at her, shakily.
Han did not consider himself a violent man. Sure he was a scoundrel and a lovable rogue, and he didn't shy away from a good fight, but he abhorred needless slaughter and he considered himself a principled man.
But for one moment, one tiny fraction of a second... he seriously considered murdering the girl.
Sabine glanced back from her work and scoffed at the blaster in Han's hand, pointed at her. "What, are you gonna shoot me?" she challenged.
Han's hand trembled furiously as he contemplated exactly that. This was justifiable homicide wasn't it? Rebel Command would surely pardon him.
...Right?
"Get out," he strained, voice tight.
Sabine's eyes flicked down towards the barrel of the blaster and back up to his face, skeptical. But she didn't move.
Han depressed the trigger, the shot loud in the closed space as it bounced off the wall just a fraction of a hair too close to Sabine's head.
"OUT!" he shouted.
"Okay!" Sabine cried, frightened, hands going immediately up in surrender and paint sprayer pointed towards the ceiling as she fled out the doorway and down the other hallway, running for her life.
Han crumpled as if cut from strings, sagging into the dejarik booth. The blaster slipped loosely from his hand as he slumped in place.
Stars above, he was being punished for something in a past life, wasn't he?
He mashed a hand over his face.
Just two minutes, he promised himself. Just two minutes and then he was drowning himself with one of their bottles of hooch.
-SW-
Klipspree - Jargoon - IRO Alpha-Four Facility - Level 1 - Lab 15 Auxiliary Access Hallway
27 minutes after "The Incident"
The chaos might have been winding down for the Rebel vessels out in hyperspace, but down on Klipspree in the IRO facility it was still reigning full force.
Multiple fires were going. Medics and mechanics were frantically running back and forth, trying to salvage property and personnel. The ration gelatin was still expanding, still overtaking hallway after hallway on the lab levels.
TK-6776 was frantically firing his blaster into the oncoming wall of slime. His shots seemed useless; he and the pretty technician he'd always had a bit of a thing for were cornered in one of the halls, and it was looking increasingly like they were going to die here despite his heroic last stand.
Feeling a bit panicked, maybe a little delirious from the noxious fumes of whatever was burning, the trooper threw down his blaster with a despairing, "I don't wanna die a virgin!"
"Me neither!" shrilled the technician, huddling in a corner.
He swiveled his head towards her, slyly.
"Heeeeey, that gives me an idea," he said, grinning.
-SW-
Klipspree Airspace - Imperial Cruiser The Revenant - Conference Room B
8.6 hours after "The Incident"
Gideon felt a vein in his forehead pulsing.
The stenographer was bent over the desk, giggling uncontrollably in drunken amusement, and even Vader's respirator was wheezing as if the Dark Lord was holding back a chuckle, but the ISB agent found it all entirely unamusing.
"Well," he withered with dry, unpleased sarcasm, "I hope you at least enjoyed yourselves before deciding to dishonor the Imperial Army."
"Actually," TK-6776 said lightly, "sex was a bit of a letdown." He shrugged with casual indifference. "I was disappointed," he confessed.
-SW-
Klipspree Airspace - Imperial Cruiser The Revenant - Outside Conference Room B
8.6 hours after "The Incident"
The door burst open with a loud hiss and TK-6776 somersaulted ass over teakettle, scrambling up and running for the hills as Gideon shouted apoplectically behind him, Vader and the stenographer clutching valiantly to his arms to hold him back.
"Let me at him!" Gideon yelled, foaming at the mouth and seething. "Let me at him, LET ME AT HIM!"
(A/N)- One more chapter of shenanigans guys! Thank you for sticking with me thus far.