Chapter 3: The Mechanics
18 BBY- 1 Year after the Rise of the Empire
"It's your turn, Kolvin. But your butterfingers are so bad it's like you dipped them in droid oil. I doubt you'll score any good."
The one named Kolvin quickly became flustered. "That's not true. Watch this!"
Ahsoka's eyes followed the marble as the mossy-blue Rodian pinched it between his fingers and flicked it across the crokin board. It skimmed straight past the center goal and, with a stroke of very bad luck, fell into the dead zone. His jaw dropped in dismay.
The girl who had been teasing him, Banji Fardi, started cackling. "Sorry, what was I supposed to be seeing?" she teased. "You're so bad that even Hedala could beat you, and she's not even seven yet!"
The little girl seated next to her giggled.
"Banji, don't be so rude," Chenna scolded. She was the oldest of the three Fardi sisters and a couple years younger than Ahsoka, but sometimes she felt much older. That, or she just seemed more mature for her age. But, Ahsoka supposed, that was to be expected when she was the acting mother for her sisters ever since their parents passed. Life wasn't fair, and sometimes you had to grow up fast. And if anyone knew that, it was Ahsoka and Rex.
Banji rolled her eyes and sniffed disdainfully. "It's not my fault he's a bad player," she grumbled.
"Better luck next time, bud," Rex said to the humiliated Kolvin, offering him a sympathetic pat on the back.
"Probably not," Banji sneered. Playful mischief glinted in her dark brown eyes and Ahsoka tried hard not to chuckle as well. She had to at least try to set a good example.
"Banji!" Chenna chided again. She shot Ahsoka a helpless look, only to get a hey-don't-look-at-me shrug in return. Kolvin merely sank lower in his seat.
It was the end of the workweek on Raada and a month after the Imperials had arrived, and Rex and Ahsoka were out for dinner and a game of crokin with the little group of friends they'd found. They were all a part of the same farming crew, and in a way, they'd sort of adopted "Ashla" and Rex into it as well. Feeling a bit pitied, the two mechanics made sure to give them good discounts on the tools they brought in, but it wasn't long before they finally started to warm up to them, even if they were still a bit wary. For the first time in the better half of a year, they weren't really alone anymore. It was something that Ahsoka decided needed getting used to.
"Kolvin isn't that bad," came a voice from behind their booth, along with the mouthwatering, savory smell of dinner. Ahsoka turned to see Vartan, the eldest of the group and the leader of the farming crew, coming over with a tray of food in his hand. "He's just got a lot to learn. And maybe you could teach him, Banji," he advised, setting the tray down on the table. There was a plate of spicy kod'yok ribs still sizzling from the grill with roasted lemus corn and an assortment of colorful seasoned vegetables from the local farms. The aroma was to die for and Ahsoka could only assume the taste would be as well. She felt her stomach rumble.
"Vartan's right," Chenna concurred, reaching forward to start dishing out the corn to her sisters. She swatted Banji's reaching hand away from the vegetables. "That way, you could both get better and make the game more interesting."
In a way, she reminded Ahsoka a little of Padmé. Maybe it was the dark hair. Or maybe the mothering.
"I don't need a kid to teach me," Kolvin retorted, huffing.
"I could teach you," Hedala chimed in, staring up at him with the cutest of smiles and unnecessarily big, sparkling eyes.
Kolvin's frown disappeared to be quickly replaced by an affectionate simper. Even Rex's usual staunch expression melted a bit into a smile. The girl was hopelessly adorable. It was impossible not to fall in love her dark bushy curls and pinchable rosy cheeks at first sight.
"I'm sure you'd be a wonderful teacher, Hedala," Vartan assured, chuckling. He rubbed the girl's head with a hand before handing out some utensils. He took his seat in the empty spot next to Rex. Much to Ahsoka's relief, he picked up the plate of kod'yok ribs and started to pass them around.
"Thish ish delishush!" Kolvin exclaimed around a mouthful of ribs. He swallowed and dove in for another bite. Ahsoka silently hoped he would use the napkin to wipe the crumbs falling out of the corners of his mouth.
"Well, don't get used to it," Vartan grunted. He steadily swallowed a spoonful of corn. "There'll be a lot less of it from here on out."
"What? Why?" Chenna asked, incredulous.
"The Empire's going to start restricting imports to the planet," Rex answered before Vartan could. His expression darkened considerably. Ahsoka didn't know if Rex realized how threatening he looked when he was serious. "Things like kod'yok aren't a necessity, so they'll try to limit it, if they can."
"But what does the food we eat have to do with the Empire?" Kolvin puzzled. "It's not like it bothers them at all."
"Because the Imperials want Raada and other Outer Rim planets to be dependent on two things, and two things alone," Rex continued grimly. "The Empire, and the planet itself."
Ahsoka watched Chenna and Kolvin nod in slow understanding. It surprised her that they hadn't figured that one out already. But, then again, she reminded herself, they were just farmers. It was safe to assume they didn't know much about the political and economic strategy of a dictatorship.
"They won't just cut off everything, surely," Chenna pressed. Kolvin nodded assertively next to her. Banji took advantage of her sister's diverted attention to steal one of the ribs off her plate. Hedala was otherwise preoccupied, picking idly at her vegetables and trying to make a triangle out of the pieces of her corn.
"I wouldn't-" Rex started, but Vartan cut him off with a stern look that gave Ahsoka violent déjà vu of the glares that Master Windu had given that had made her fight back hot tears as a youngling.
Rex's mouth formed a line, but he did as he was told. Ahsoka silently agreed with him. It was naïve of Chenna and Kolvin to think that this would be the only change; it was just the first of many. And not knowing the truth of it would only hinder them.
But they weren't prepared for anything like that, Ahsoka admonished herself. They hadn't seen war, or the strategies of contending militaries, or the decimation of planets just like theirs at the hand of the Separatists, seen as nothing more than mere pawns in the never-ending game of chess that Palpatine had played against himself. She couldn't blame them for that. Perhaps it was even a blessing.
Chenna went on. "They've been here for a month, and other than switching out some of the crops on our farms, they haven't really done much," she acknowledged. Banji nodded quietly next to her, starting to tune into the adult conversation. Ahsoka hoped she wouldn't have to grow up too soon. She hastily extinguished any thought of a reason as to why.
"It's only a matter of time before they change their mind," Rex countered darkly.
Ahsoka nudged him with her elbow. Couldn't he tone it down a bit? It was obvious Vartan didn't want them to be fully aware of the condemned fate of their planet just yet. They could save all the doom-and-gloom for later. "I'm sure the black market will make it's way here soon enough," she added hopefully, trying to bring a little optimism to the table. "There will definitely be kod'yok meat on there."
The conversation screeched to a halt. Maren and Kolvin's eyes stretched wide in alarm. Rex pinched the bridge of his nose. Vartan gave another Windu-esque glare that sent her head reeling.
"What's a black market?" Hedala asked.
"It's where they sell super cool bad things, like human hearts and Wookie eyeballs," Banji grinned impishly.
"Banji!" Chenna scolded.
"Listen," Vartan broke in, shaking his head jadedly, "let's just enjoy the rest of our meal tonight. I'm sure things will be alright for now." He glanced tiredly at Rex once before reaching for another rib. "Plus, we've still got a game of crokin to finish."
The group slowly eased back into a somewhat-normal state, chowing down on the rest of their food, tossing around jokes, and playing crokin. Ahsoka tried to keep her mind on the game, but she was losing pretty poorly and found it impossible not to think about other things. Darker things.
Her head started to spin, and images of villages reduced to dirt and ash whizzed through her mind. She saw scorched farmlands and hacked-down orchards. She saw trampled crops and wrecked houses. She saw stranded people and burning bones. The Force was dead in the ground. She saw Chenna, eyes glazed over in the sightless stare of death. She saw Kolvin, buried and crushed under a mound of bricks and fallen stone. She saw Hedala, standing alone in a disarray of smoldering buildings, lost to the world.
"Hey," Rex murmured into her ear. He placed a firm hand on her knee under the table. She could feel his eyes boring into her side. She was aware of Vartan's watchful gaze on her, too.
"I'm alright," she said quietly. She didn't look at either of them. Instead, she kept her eyes trained on the vegetable about to fall off of Banji's plate. If she wanted, she could flick the tip of her index finger, and the Force would nudge it back from the edge. But of course, she couldn't do that. Not without risking exposure and consequently endangering their lives. Imagine that, she thought. She could put their lives at risk just by moving the tip of her finger!
Rex clearly hadn't taken her word for it that she was fine. She felt him open his mouth to press further, but he didn't get the chance before the cantina went quiet.
"Look who's decided to join the party," Kolvin muttered. Ahsoka tore her gaze from the teetering vegetable to see what the commotion was.
Two storm troopers entered the cantina. After a moment, they removed their shiny helmets and walked up to the bar, rudely pushing past another patron to order their drinks.
She heard Rex breathe a sigh of relief when he didn't recognize them as brothers. Not only would they have looked identical, Ahsoka thought, but they wouldn't have been so impolite.
Between keeping an eye on the troopers when they went off-duty and listening in to their casual chatter for the past month, she and Rex had learned a fair amount about the new structure of their old military. Most importantly, they'd figured out that there was only one small battalion and few inexperienced, young officers who'd brought along a handful of rusting AT-RTs leftover from the war. Clearly, the Empire didn't see Raada as anything too important. And, luckily for Rex and Ahsoka, most of the troopers deployed to Raada were freshly-enlisted shinies, not the seasoned, battle-worn clones that the Empire had deemed outdated. But despite the somewhat-comforting intel, they both stayed a little wary.
The storm troopers, obviously not bringing any important news, became less interesting and the normal clamor of the cantina revved up again.
"Their armor is ugly," Kolvin grumbled. "So big and bulky."
"It's practical," Rex replied, maybe a little too defensively. "It's the best material for deflecting blaster fire."
"It's still ugly."
"It is a little clunky," Chenna admitted.
Rex's eyelid visibly twitched.
Not much later, they finished their dinner and their game of crokin, leaving nothing but some kernels of corn and a few left-over vegetables that Hedala had refused to eat on the table. They all cashed in when they got the check and had Banji bring it up to the bartender. Ahsoka started to help Chenna and Kolvin clear the table when she heard Vartan quietly ask Rex for a word. She tried not to look as Rex nodded and followed him around the corner, well out of earshot.
"Hey Kolvin, I bet I can seed twice as much soil than you tomorrow," Banji dared, sticking her nose up at the Rodian.
"Doubt it," he retorted. He was older than Ahsoka but appeared to get along more with Banji. If whatever their poking-and-prodding relationship could be called a friendship, anyway.
"Sorry Banji, but you won't be able to make good on your bet tomorrow," Chenna broke in, "I need you to watch Hedala tomorrow. The neighbors will be out of town, so you have to stay home with her."
"What?" Banji complained. "I hate Hedala duty!" She let out an impressively dramatic groan.
She would do very well in the theatre industry on Coruscant, Ahsoka mused. "Surely Hedala duty isn't that bad," she put in lightly.
"You just don't get it, Ashla," Banji said gloomily, "little sisters are so annoying. They're the absolute worst."
"Banji, try to be nice, please," Chenna said exasperatedly.
The younger girl pouted and scrunched up her nose. "Or maybe older sisters or worse."
It wasn't long before Rex and Vartan returned. By then, the others had finished bringing the dishes back to the bar and had packed up the leftovers, which Chenna eagerly took home. After saying goodbyes, everyone departed for their homes for the rest of the night. They were tired from the day of working under the sun and had things to do. Vartan needed to return home to his wife and Kolvin to his elderly mother. Rex and Ahsoka needed to lock up the shop. Chenna needed to put Hedala and Banji to bed, which was perhaps the hardest task of them all.
Stepping out under the night sky, Ahsoka took in a deep breath. There was a cool breeze that sent little bumps up her back and over her arms. They passed the pair of stormtroopers from earlier, who were probably headed out on night patrol. Ahsoka and Rex tried to keep their heads low. As she glimpsed the familiar shape of their helmets out of the corner of her eye, she suddenly wasn't sure the shivers were just from the wind. It was like they were a ghost of the past, of the war, and of a life long gone, haunting her wherever she went. She glanced up at the sky to gaze at the moons, usually finding comfort in their pale, mesmerizing glow amongst the stars, but they were hidden, tucked away behind thick grey clouds. How symbolic, she thought miserably.
They chose to stay quiet on their walk home. Better not to risk any suspicion, Rex had said, but Ahsoka personally thought two people walking silently through the streets at night with their heads low made it look even more suspicious. They could at least have tried small talk. That would probably make it more believable. But on second thought, maybe Rex wasn't capable of making small talk. And maybe she wasn't, either, Ahsoka realized. She wouldn't necessarily call either of them 'socially adept'.
Ahsoka waited until they had reached the relative safety of their shop before asking Rex what Vartan had wanted to talk to him about. She leaned against the counter, carefully avoiding stepping in a meticulously sorted array of cylindrical and tapered roller bearings. The unspoken question of should we be concerned? passed from her eyes to his.
Rex shook his head. The tension in her shoulders eased slightly. "But we need to be careful," he said, noticing her sense of relief.
She raised a brow. "What did he say, then?"
"He said he doesn't know who we were or where we're from or, but he can guess what we've seen," he explained, turning to try and clear off the table. He started to shift around some nails and flat-head screws into a small pile. "He asked me—"
"Don't touch those."
Rex retreated slowly and raised his hands in mock surrender. "He asked me if we could try to not scare the others," he continued, "mostly Chenna and the girls." He stared ruefully at the half-finished pile and let out a deep sigh.
"So he wants us to lie to them?"
"No, no. Just to be more… gentle, I guess."
"Gentle?" Ahsoka repeated. She snorted and crossed her arms. "The Empire isn't going to be 'gentle' when they decide they don't have a use for this planet anymore."
"They're kids, Ahsoka," Rex reminded her, "and pretty innocent ones at that. They haven't seen much in their lifetime to prepare them for something like this."
Ahsoka let out a deep breath. She tried to understand. And she did, but she didn't like it.
Her eyes fell on the nails and screws that she'd methodically organized into differentiated rows and columns of sizes and densities. She tisked. Now she'd have to sort them again tomorrow.
She realized Rex was staring at her, apparently awaiting a response. "Well," she stammered, "I guess we'll do as we're told. We don't really have much of a choice. Besides…" she remembered their plan to set up a backup base in case things went wrong. She realized they'd been so busy being mechanics that they were falling behind in carrying it out. "We haven't explored the cave system outside the town. And if things turn bad like we think they will, we'll let Vartan and the others know about the plan. So, let's just keep our worries to ourselves. For now."
"For now," Rex agreed.
The reluctance in his warm brown eyes told her that he was struggling to step aside and watch, too. To step aside and look on as the helpless farming planet threatened to crumble under the grip of the Empire and leave everyone on it with nothing but the clothes on their backs. They'd both seen it in the past; they'd seen the Separatists come to a planet like Raada, gradually exert their control, and sap up the planet's resources until it was left dry and useless. Then they'd up and leave and move on to the next rock they found.
It felt like they needed to do something. It felt like they needed to resist, to come out against the Empire, guns blazing and lightsabers flashing. It felt like they needed to put up a fight before giving up.
But they weren't heroes anymore. They weren't clone and Jedi, Captain and Commander. They were just the mechanics who lived down the street from the cantina.
The two decided to turn in for the night, tired from the day's work and left feeling drowsy from the hearty meal they'd had. "Fat and happy", Jesse would've called the feeling. Ahsoka thought "fat and sluggish" was more accurate.
She climbed into her rack, the top of the bunk bed they'd built, and rested her head on her pillow. Rex switched off the light and she stared blankly at the ceiling. She heard him twist and turn in the sheets below her. He must be having trouble sleeping as well, she thought.
Below her, he muttered disparagingly. "They said the armor looked ugly," he grumbled.
She couldn't help but smirk. "It is a bit bulky in some places."
He huffed indignantly. "That plastoid is some of the most formidable material in the galaxy!"
"I'm just kidding, Rex. You and the men looked very handsome in your armor. No need to worry."
She closed her eyes and tried to sleep. She let herself think on her words for a moment: the men.
Under his breath, Rex scoffed. "Clunky."