Capture

Chapter Thirteen

After asking Hera some pretty vague questions about the crew and the reasons he was with with them in the beginning, Ezra left to wander through the ship.

Some parts were familiar to him--he could remember flashes of that door opening, this smudge of orange paint on the wall--but nothing concrete. He sighed, shaking his head. What if he never remembered what they were all telling him?

As he passed over the hold, Ezra looked down, noticing Zeb and Sabine sparring below, and leaned forward onto the railing to watch.

The burly Lasat growled, running forward with arms outstretched, as if to try to grab her. But the girl was too fast for him.

Ducking under his arm, Sabine spun and grabbed it. Using his own momentum, she flipped him onto his back, then laughed at his disgruntled expression. She offered him a hand and he begrudgingly took it, pulling himself to his feet. "And that," she said, pretending to dust her hands off, "Is how you do things, Mandalorian style."

Ezra chuckled slightly, and Sabine immediately looked up at him. Ezra ducked his head, a bit embarrassed at being caught. After a moment of terse silence, he turned, deciding to move on.

Behind him, Sabine called his name, but he ignored her, moving a bit faster.
Soon he arrived at the smaller ship attached to the back of the Ghost. He frowned slightly, pushing his hand to his forehead. What was its name?

He grunted in frustration and shook his head. It really wasn't important, but it still bugged him that he couldn't remember.

Pulling a seat down, Ezra sat down. As he did, he closed his eyes for a second, and gasped. Suddenly, he was transported to a different place, a different time.

"You know, this whole mission thing is nuts. I'm not against sticking it to the Empire, but there's no way I'd stick my neck out this far. I mean, who does that?"

Hera didn't hesitate. "We do."

Slight embarrassed, Ezra looked away. the ship came out of hyperspace, and Ezra took in the Imperial transport.

Two tie fighters were docked on each side of the ship, and heavy guns were mounted on top. Ezra really hoped everything would go well and they wouldn't have to worry about those things.

Hera hailed the transport. "Imperial transport 651, this is Starbird, coming inbound."

"State your business," came the reply in a clipped, cultured voice.

"Bounty--we captured an additional Wookiee prisoner and have transfer orders to place him with you."

"We have no such orders." You could almost hear the frown in his voice, and two ties unattached from the transport. Ezra's eyes widened, but Hera stayed calm. "That's...fine. We already got paid. By Governor Tarkin. If you don't want the oversized monong, I'll jettison here, let you explain to your superiors why the Empire has one less slave."

Still circling the transport with ties following, Hera and Ezra waited in terse silence. He looked at her, unbelieving. It wasn't going to work.

Finally, the voice answered. "Permission to dock. Bay One."

Still troubled, Ezra turned back to the viewport as the Ghost docked and the tues flew on to circle the transport until they left. Glancing at Hera, Ezra smiled slightly. "You really believe the storm troopers are gonna think Zeb is a Wookiee?"

Hera grinned. "Actually, I don't think Zeb is even gonna give them a chance to."

Ezra shook his head, grinning as well. Though he had only known the smelly Lasat for a few hours, he agreed. Zeb just seemed like that kind of person.