"Kanan, I may not be Force-sensitive," Hera said frankly, "But even I can tell this is a bad idea."
"We don't have a choice this time." Kanan braced his hand on the pilot seat, eyes closed and expression unsettled in that vague twist Hera associated with the dark side.
"Vader?" she guessed.
"Not on this side of Lothal," Kanan said at last. His face cleared and he exhaled deliberately, as though expelling the Sith lord's presence from his mind.
"We could try an asteroid," Hera muttered. "It's safer than here."
"We need fuel, Hera."
It seemed ironic that the fuel tank had sprung a leak halfway through orbit. There were still sanctuaries remaining on Lothal, but the Fulcrum urged them to find a new asylum. Too many contacts had vanished within the last few months. Eventually, however – as though the mother heart of Lothal cried out for her lost raven – they always returned.
"Why did the Fulcrum call for a supply run near this dump – again?" Hera flung out one hand and glanced shiftily at Kanan. "And don't blame it on a warped transmission. Chopper fixed that months ago."
"I didn't say anything about a transmission."
"Good. Because one more false run and I'm going to deflect to the Empire."
"As if they'd have us," Kanan snarked. He counted off satirically, "The droid torments officers for fun, the Lasat reeks, the Mandalorian captures every embarrassing moment of the crew, and the kid is loopier than a bipedal droid with melted circuits."
"And you are….?" Hera drawled.
Kanan smugly knit his hands behind his head and leaned back. "I'm a Jedi. I don't need an excuse."
"Oh? Then what does that make your captain?" Hera folded her arms, raising one eyebrow in challenge.
Blue-green eyes shifted. Good. He was thinking.
"You're too dangerous for them," Kanan said with a slinky grin. "I saw what happened to Lando after he ditched you on Asmorigan's ship."
"You should have seen Asmorigan." Hera snorted.
"That's why I admire you." Kanan's eyes were soft, and she knew it was the closest he would come to saying what they both thought.
"Yeah… I figure it goes the other way," Hera said, squeezing his hand.
From the doorway, Ezra roughly cleared his throat. "Um… Chopper says we're about to land soon. Why are we stopping on Lothal?"
Growling low, Kanan folded his arms. "Remind me why we had kids."
"You wanted him," Hera retorted.
"I said I would train him. You invented the adoption business."
"Did I … interrupt something?" Ezra asked guardedly.
"If I say yes –"
"Not at all, Ezra," Hera said quickly. Oh, how she loved it when Kanan squirmed. "We're just picking up fuel on Lothal. We won't be there more than an hour."
"O…kay." Looking suspiciously between them, Ezra shuffled out of the room.
"He's starting to pick up," Hera hinted.
"He's sixteen," Kanan grated. "He's supposed to know about this."
"Maybe you should give him the talk…."
Ooh, those blue-green eyes could be vengeful.
"Or we could just pick up the fuel and be on our way," Hera countered, preparing the Ghost for descent.
"Fuel cells, Hera. One hour. … . … And I'm not sulking."
"Don't clench your teeth, love."
The dark side wasn't prodding him this time. Ezra waited for the sense of abandonment; of distrust and fear and hatred; of cold numbing his limbs until he wanted to shiver in the corner and call for Kanan. But there was nothing.
What are you planning?
He wanted to shout at Vader through the Force, harangue him for leaving him in suspense, but he couldn't risk the Ghost.
What does he want with me?
They had left the Imperial Academy only a few weeks ago. Kanan's hand was still healing, and Hera tutted about how close he had come to losing an eye. Now they were returning to Lothal.
Why aren't you there?
Ezra shuddered and rubbed his arms. The cold from the battle with Vader lingered. Kanan wanted to believe it was a lie; that there was no dark side fostering in his padawan. Ezra had given up denying the truth.
One day he would have to make a choice.
Blue or red.
Who is my real father?
"Tell the Star Destroyers to prepare for my arrival."
"Yes, Lord Vader," the lieutenant said briskly. "The Lothal weapons faculty has reported that the bioweapons are set to launch at your command."
"Excellent work, Lieutenant. The rebel ship has already been sighted above the planet. When the bioweapon is launched, your troops will be assigned to retrieve them. Do not hesitate to use any means to ascertain their location. We will squeeze Lothal until someone reveals the whereabouts of these traitors."
Grand Moffs and Inquisitors were renowned for their lengthy monologues. How fortunate that Darth Vader kept his business short. The lieutenant fought down a yawn and nodded.
"It will be done, Lord Vader." He turned to his lackey and snapped his fingers, biting down a grin when the private jolted to attention.
More assignments. Better pay. Countless underlings. It was a death sentence for those under Darth Vader's command. The lieutenant considered himself lucky to have lasted three months.
Still, it was fun to watch the new recruits shiver whenever the 'monster in the cape' stalked aboard.
And he had won five hundred credits in the betting pool for 'survival odds'.
He had another thousand coming if he lived through this next mission.
All the same, he was relieved to be only a lieutenant.
Examining moisture farms. How extraordinary. The Tatooine farmers must have exquisite models compared to those found on Lothal. Perhaps a future study on the intricacies of mushrooms would serve to end the rebellion.
Weary with boredom, Kallus check-marked his list and nodded to the quivering farmer. "Your research serves the Empire well. You will be compensated for your efforts."
He was almost tempted to burn the farm just to make his lackey tremble. There was snickering behind his back.
"Commander Kallus," the audacious private said, "Officer Maipo requires an immediate report on your observations of the moisture farm prototypes."
Oh, how easy it would be to demote that snipe to 'fresher services – preferably in the Lothal "primitive" farmlands.
"Noted, Private Dulcont," Kallus said evenly. "Inform the officer that he will receive his report by tomorrow evening."
"Officer Maipo says the issue is very urgent," the private said smugly.
"Then inform him urgently," Kallus said. He thrust his datapad at the private and strolled to his transport. One more day in the Lothal fields, and then he would return to the academy warehouses with snot-nosed brats and pompous lieutenants.
To think that weeks ago, the Jedi had been within his grasp.
"Sir, there has been a modification in the orders…." Private Dulcont held out Kallus' datapad uncertainly. Sneering at the underling, Kallus snatched it away.
"Nervous all of a sudden?" They must be orders from Darth Vader, if the cockroach was shuddering.
"Well, well….." 'All ground troops are to maintain their present location and position. Unregistered spacecraft must be reported immediately.' Unregistered spacecraft. Kallus' eyes shifted and he instinctively brushed a hand over the peppered burns on his face.
Sometimes fate favored those who resorted to all possible measures.
There were no specifications that the rebels had to be captured alive.