Ezra's hands shook as he sat in a booth in the back of the cantina. The dim glow from the overheads buzzed with a harshness Ezra had never noticed before, especially at this late hour. The lightsaber and datapad sat on the table in front of him, sparking recollections of Vos fighting that attacker in black armor whenever Ezra looked at them.

Old Jho and Kix had sent him downstairs ahead of them, no doubt on account of him being a teenager. For only being fourteen, it would've been nice to say that Ezra had never seen death so close and so vividly before. But Lothal had strained under Imperial occupation too long to avoid deadly public clashes between locals and white-clad enforcers from time to time. For once, Ezra was relieved the adults chose not to involve him in the matters at hand.

When they joined him in the booth downstairs, they brought with them a somberness that weighted the air even more. Ezra wasn't claustrophobic, but then again he'd never experienced the emptiness of the cantina being so stifling.

"What're we gonna do?" Ezra asked, voice shaking.

Jho cleared his throat, an interesting sound with a translator. "You know, Ezra, I think you should go for this. Get off of Lothal and see about finding this treasure. It'll keep you away from…" Just as his voice petered off, the heavy sound of roving stormtroopers passed by outside. Ezra half expected them to enter citing a noise complaint, but their footsteps faded.

"Hate to break it to you," Kix said, "but that is everywhere in the galaxy. And anything the Empire doesn't control is replaced with whatever gang or Hutt owns it."

"There's at least a better chance for him off of this dustball," Jho argued.

Ezra swallowed. The Empire had never been benevolent; they took his parents from him over half a decade ago, after all. Yet Ezra had never planned to pursue a life elsewhere. Maybe his head was still too dogged by everything else that had happened tonight, but he couldn't wrap his mind around the thought of leaving.

"Let's check the map, first," Kix said with a stroke of his goatee. "See if it's even legitimate."

The weight of their gazes fell on Ezra. He pushed the power button on the datapad. After a couple seconds of no response, he pressed the button again but still nothing happened. Jho suggested it might've lost power while locked in Vos' chest, and retrieved a power cord from his office. The three of them congregated around the bar where the 'pad could plug in and charge, but the cord didn't fit into the port.

"Wait," Kix said, pulling the 'pad out of Ezra's hands. "This is a karkin' old model—still uses datasticks." He ejected a thin piece of plasti, about the size and length of his thumb, from the side of the device.

"I don't have any tech that can support that," Jho said, whole head shaking. Ezra looked from one adult to the other, surprised that two people so old didn't have technology equally ancient.

"This is compatible with clone wars-era equipment, which they discontinued at the start of the Empire," Kix said. Ezra found himself leaning over the bar just at that scrap of information far more interesting than most things on Lothal. Kix set down the 'pad, saying, "We'll have to dig up a decades-old relic just to read the data."

Kix's inclusive language sparked a suspicion in Ezra that pushed him back into his original defensiveness. "You want part of the treasure, don't you?" Ezra accused, eyes narrowing as he took in the doctor.

Kix laughed at that. "Kid, I still don't believe there is a treasure. But if this turns into a real thing, you're gonna need a medic." There was a genuineness to Kix that Ezra had only seen in locals he truly trusted, like Mr. Jenn and Old Jho. There was also a magnanimity which the friends of his parents couldn't afford to offer, and because it was such a rare commodity, Ezra couldn't gauge its genuineness. He couldn't deny the thought of Kix traveling with him sparked a begrudging feeling of safety, either.

The adults buried Vos and the inquisitor that night, somewhere they wouldn't even tell Ezra.

…

The next day dawned and carried on the same as ever. Miles away from Lothal City, where the largest structures were the randomly occurring rock formations, a small auxiliary ship poking out of the tall grass barely stood out when dwarfed by a neighboring cruiser parked several hundred meters away.

Hera Syndulla, possibly the only Twi'lek on all of Lothal, inventoried each crate her orange astromech pulled out of their little ship, alongside their Devaronian buyer. Hera had complete faith that her droid wouldn't withhold any items from a buyer—because after a decade and a half together, there wasn't anyone in the galaxy she trusted more—but she was all too familiar with buyers lying that the full shipment was missing.

The crates ended up lined more or less in a row, all the T7 ion disruptors inside accounted for, Hera noted with a smile. Their green Devaronian buyer checked off the last of the weapons on his datapad, and a pointy-toothed grin spread across his face as well.

"One of these days you'll have to tell me your secret to smuggling things past the Empire," he said, offering her a stack of credits.

"If I did that, Vizago, I'd be out of a job," Hera retorted with no trace of humor as she yanked the payment from his hands. Everyone she supplied wanted to know her secret, because they begrudged how much money she charged for her smuggling runs. As she explained over and over, it took money to elude the thoroughness and organization of the Empire—whether her buyers believed that or not was their own fault.

Their business concluded and Vizago's tall droids already moving the shipment into his cruiser, Hera climbed back into her ship, the Phantom, and set a low-altitude course for Lothal City. After the long route she had to take from Garel just to slip past Imperial customs, she needed a place where she could dock and refuel.

"This is great, Chop!" she called to her droid halfway through her third recount. "These credits'll last us almost a month, now. We might be able to get that shield upgrade if we can talk down the price by… okay, by half. But it's possible!" Because of course she had to set some credits aside for savings—how else could she ever buy herself an intergalactic ship capable of hyperspace? The Phantom had gotten her through numerous close calls, but it still didn't have the capabilities to get her out of the Lothal system.

Chopper rolled to a stop next to the lone pilot's seat and beeped at her.

"Yeah, we'll get you your oil, don't worry."

Black Imperial industry was sooner spotted on the horizon than the city it cut into. The rest of the capital had escaped invasive modification, which was where life flourished. The refueling docks jutting from the spaceport were unusually crowded today, and Hera had to land near the far end, as larger and public ships had priority at the front. The docks narrowed out here, perfect for her compact auxiliary size. She landed the Phantom in between two sleeker models who probably didn't lack their matching main ship, unlike Hera.

Despite not making it beyond the Lothal system in years, Hera dressed like a galactic pilot, her orange flight suit bright amid the drabness of the other spacers milling about as she made her way to the booth guarding the dock entrance. For the station being so busy, there was only one man in front of her, his gray hair pulled back into a bun, and in a heated conversation already with the Rodian behind the booth window.

"I just need a look at the roster," he pleaded.

"For the last time, you're not a captain," the Rodian retorted.

"I know, I'm trying to find a captain to hire, that's all I need!"

"Does this look like a temp agency to you, pal?"

Hera's lekku shivered at the sheer luck. Chopper bumped into her leg, not that she needed any encouragement.

"Excuse me, I couldn't help overhearing," she interrupted, tapping the man on the shoulder until he turned around. "But anywhere you need to get to within the Lothal system, I can take you."

The man smiled kindly—or was that a wince?—and just as he opened his mouth for what was probably a rejection, his eyes fell on Chopper.

"Would you accompany me to Old Jho's Inn? There are a couple of locals there interested in traveling."

While this wasn't the sketchiest offer she'd ever gotten, it was certainly up there. However his voice was chillingly familiar, like a ghost straight out of the past, too incorporeal for her recollection to grasp. Had she met him before? "Sure… after I refuel."

The Rodian worker paused his holonet scrolling to log in Hera, and looked less friendly for it.

"Captain Syndulla," she reported, "dock 36."

When she turned back to the man, his disposition had shifted, and he smiled friendly enough for himself and the miffed Rodian. "Name's Kix, by the way, nice to meet you, Captain Syndulla!"

…

The daily lull hit when customers unenthusiastically dragged themselves back to their jobs after lunch, leaving Ezra more time to bus tables. He'd moved slower today; his smiles for customers took more effort. Only half of the cluttered tables managed to be cleared before Kix entered with a green-skinned Twi'lek and an astromech.

Ezra wiped his hands on his apron when Kix called him over, and a smile came automatically at the introduction of Captain Hera Syndulla. Jho joined them in the empty cantina.

"Are these the companions you mentioned?" Hera asked. Ezra would've been lost in the startling green of her eyes—quite different from her skin—if Kix laying a hand on his shoulder hadn't jarred him back to the present.

"Yep, and Ezra here has a datastick to the destination, but none of our 'pads can read it. I think your droid can, though."

Ezra withdrew the stick from his pocket with more speed than he'd exerted all day, only to be met with a suspicious look from Hera.

"Hold on, you don't know where you want to go?"

Kix wavered one hand. "It's complica—"

"This is a map to a Jedi treasure!" Ezra burst out. "But we can't read it. If your droid can read it, then we'd know where it is!" Jho and Kix both tensed—Ezra could feel it without even seeing it—but there was something about Hera that Ezra intrinsically trusted. That tiny voice in the back of his head hoped it wasn't just because she was a beautiful pilot, but Ezra was sure there was another reason. There had to be.

"I can't stay," Kix said as Hera accepted the datastick. "I've already taken a longer lunch break than normal, but I'll be back tonight." The front doors parted for him.

Jho dimmed the main overheads for the astromech, who ingested the datastick and spit out a blue-tinted holographic map of the galaxy. A sector automatically magnified, and Ezra was faced with an unfamiliar grouping of planets. Luckily for his limited astrographic knowledge, names floated under each large body, and one sphere pulsed a different color than the rest. Their destination.

"It's on a planet named Takar? In the Akujii System."

"Nowhere near here," Hera sighed.

"Have him go back to the whole view of the galaxy," Ezra said. The droid made a sort of squawk, but one fist from Hera landing on his flat head provoked him into obliging. The scope of the Akujii System shrank into a tight grouping of only its largest planets on the bottom of a galactic map cluttered with pockets of similar clusters.

Ezra spent a full minute in silence, searching names for anything remotely familiar. On the opposite edge of the map—what he had to stand on his tiptoes to read clearly—he finally found his home squeezed between Mon Cala and Garel, a tiny dot so unfathomably far removed from everywhere else.

"And there's really a Jedi treasure on Takar?" Hera asked, drawing Ezra's attention back to her. Her chin hid in one of her gloves and the slant of her eyebrows was anything but the confidence Ezra hoped for.

Jho juggled his hands indecisively. "That's what we were told. Kix doesn't buy into it, but while it sounds fanciful, I don't think an organization can exist as long as they did without… acquiring valuables."

Ezra started. While he hadn't exactly been betrayed in his fourteen years of life, he figured this was what it had to feel like. "Vos died for this!" he cried. "Why would an inquisitor waste time hunting him down and killing him for this map if it was fake?!"

Jho's spindly hands gestured for Ezra to lower his voice, but it was Ezra's fault Vos was dead in the first place—it had to be; he never warned Vos about the inquisitor like Vos asked him to. All that guilt and regret bubbled up in a burst of emotion. "He said there were more inquisitors, and that they'd be coming for the map! We can't let them have it! We have to go and find it first!" What did they have to lose, anyway? A glance around the cantina reminded him that not much was here on Lothal anymore. He'd be out of a job at the end of the month. And deep down, he knew he owed it to Vos.

Jho fidgeted in the newfound dark once the astromech cut off its holoprojector. It blurted out an ugly beep and ejected the stick. Ezra grabbed it before anyone else reached for it—a strangely fast reflex if he did say so himself, but then again he was particularly protective of Vos' things now. The lights came back on.

"Exactly who all needs to get to Takar?" Hera asked.

Ezra looked to his boss of three years, but Jho shook his head.

"I can't leave. I have a business to run."

"Me, then," Ezra said. "And I guess Kix, too. Maybe."

The look Hera exchanged with her droid in the silence that followed hardly looked promising, so Ezra blurted: "You'll get a share of the treasure for helping us!"

"Chopper and I need to talk this over," Hera said evenly before retreating to a far corner of the cantina with her astromech.

Ezra was left with Jho.

"You don't believe what Vos said was entirely true, do you?"

"I've heard a lot of stories from a lot of spacers, Ezra. I don't want you to expect too much. But I also think the faster you get off planet, the better."

A faint, cold fear gripped Ezra to see the apprehension in Jho's eyes. Weariness he was used to because by now it was part of the local culture, but apprehension was new.

…

Hera knelt down next to Chopper, casting glances back at Ezra and the Ithorian to make sure they weren't eavesdropping.

Chopper beeped first, in a huff.

"Listen, I didn't promise them anything. But if we take this job, we'd get paid back ten times over or more if we found a treasure!"

A low blurt. Chopper's two arms came out of either side of its flat domed head to bend, mimicking Hera's usual posture of hands on her hips.

"I think it's real. You saw how much my people suffered during the war, but still they gave so much to the Jedi in gratitude—money, food, possessions. We can't be the only ones who did that. Chop, this could be the find of a lifetime!"

Chopper wanted to have a vote, and raised his thin arm in favor of staying with their local jobs.

Hera shot him a look. "Voting doesn't work with just two people. Look, this is what we need to finally break back into the larger galaxy!"

He grunted at her, arm dropping.

"I know we don't have a ship. But we can get one."

…

Medical bay overheads hummed, their sound as bleak as the stale light they produced. Kix only noticed this more today when his room lacked the usual population of patients waiting to see him. His first appointment of the day happened to be Maketh Tua, still in her very tall hat.

"Minister, what brings you by?" Kix asked, not bothering to vacate the seat he'd claimed as the office chair for his corner desk.

"You received the distributed message, I presume? All within the Empire must get their annual ulf shot this week. The Imperial doctor is swamped and I need to return to my work immediately." She began the strenuous task of rolling up one of her tight uniform sleeves by the time Kix convinced himself to search the medbay. Most of the sparse supplies he sifted through he'd had to fight the Imperials just to get; he'd started out originally with nothing. But among the donations they begrudgingly spared, they had left out any ulf shots.

"I'll make sure to give you an injection once I have them," Kix said just as Maketh had forced her sleeve over her elbow. "Maybe you should go wait for the Imperial doctor after all."

The Minister's face screwed into an expression as tight as her personality.

"Imperial Headquarters should not be withholding supplies, this is outrageous! I will submit an inquiry myself and get this straightened out."

Kix wasn't about to hold his breath. In the first ten years of the Empire, he experienced different regiments on a handful of worlds and the treatment was always the same: he occupied the space of a second-class citizen somewhere lower than undesirable locals and somewhere above droids.

"That'd be a great help, especially if the factory workers come in for annual shots—where are they, by the way?"

Minister Tua waved away his statement. "Oh, no, the shots are only for Imperial personnel; the locals are busy with preparations for Empire Day. We have something big planned for this year! It's been months in the making." She actually beamed at the thought.

Kix's jaw set. He paid little attention to Empire Day whenever it crept around each year because it meant something far different to him than it would to a devotee like Tua. "Ah. That explains the… new help. Your inquisitor."

The minister unrolled her sleeve slowly. "He has nothing to do with local matters. The sooner he concludes his business and leaves… well." She cleared her throat, as if realizing she wasn't in the proper company to share her opinions.

"Well, if he's in need of his annual shot, I hope he attends the other medbay."

…

Ezra hovered in the cantina after dinner, making sure to check if Hera needed another plate of food, or a drink refill. She'd decided to stay at the inn that night and Ezra returned to the back booth she sat in often, determined she lacked nothing.

Hera looked up each time, a perturbed expression on her face whenever Ezra interrupted her conversation with Chopper. But still, her looks weren't as grumpy as some spacers who didn't like Ezra hovering.

"We have a tea in the back that's not on the menu, because it's technically illegal to import now," he offered. "Not for any health reasons, just because the Empire changed its mind, I guess, but it's got a pretty nice taste and—"

"Fine!" huffed the captain. "Bring me the tea—just go back to your own work after that."

Ezra shot into the kitchen and put water on the stove to boil. He darted in and around the cook who was on his way out for the night, avoiding collision in such a small space with the ease of a practiced routine, despite hardly stepping foot inside the kitchen. By the time he'd gathered the tea, a strainer, and a mug, the water still sat on the heat without so much as a bubble. It ignored Ezra's stare growing more focused every second, but he was determined to—

His vision clouded as if a fog had rolled into the kitchen. Instead of a stove in front of him he saw himself, standing in a dark room looking out a single window, with nothing but the stars outside. The window turned blue, and a scream pulled Ezra out of his daydream.

The pot on the stove shrieked, spouting steam, and a sudden bump into Ezra's hip signaled the arrival of Hera's astromech, either yelling at Ezra or trying to join in on the noise. Ezra snatched the pot from the stove, but once he finished making Hera's tea it was Chopper who carried the mug back into the cantina, leaving Ezra with no idea how long he'd been swept up in his imagination. It hadn't been the first vision he'd ever experienced, but it was definitely the first one to look so clear.

Ezra brushed off the opportunity of putting things away in the kitchen in favor of shuffling as far out as the bar counter, hoping to catch a glimpse of Hera's reaction to the tea. But he found Kix sitting across from her, in such animated conversation that all Hera could do was hold her cup.

"Don't think I didn't notice your sudden change after you heard my name," Hera said.

"Aye, because clan Syndulla made a name for themselves back in the war, among the worlds that fought back."

"You're a clone, aren't you?" Hera broached in as careful a voice as Ezra had heard yet. "I knew there was something familiar about you. Were you involved on Ryloth?"

"That was before my time. But we all heard the stories," said Kix. "But enough history! When do we leave?"

Hera cleared her throat. "I've got one more job lined up here on Lothal tomorrow, and then we should be good to go."

Ezra had nothing else to do but slink back into the kitchen, a half-formed plan already circling his head. Sure, Hera hardly knew him and had no reason to assume a fourteen-year-old was reliable; what spacer would? Besides Vos of course, but he had been different.

Ezra would just have to prove himself.

…

Hera and Chopper took off in the Phantom the next morning just as the sun began bleaching the purple clouds white. Maneuvering her ship was such a natural thing for her that her focus wandered; muscle memory took them into the lower atmosphere while her mind mapped out exactly how she was going to approach the task of asking for money.

A sharp beep from the console drew her out of her headspace and a red dot pulsed on a screen, pinpointing the problem on the diagram of her ship.

"Chop, check the stern—the weight distribution is off."

Despite his grumbling, Chopper wheeled to the back. His loud rummaging was soon countered by an equally loud, "Hey, watch it!"

Hera hit the autopilot and spun out of her seat to find Chopper waving his thin arms like a trained fighter at the boy from the inn. His name escaped her completely, but he was now scrambling out from a compartment under the seats lining the side of the transport. Hera's hands landed on her hips.

"What do you think you're doing?"

The boy jumped up to stand there, eyes wide, as if he'd never been caught in the history of his life. "I was just… tagging along. You know, in case you needed help. You seem to be new to the area and I'm a Lothal native so—"

"You boarded my ship without permission. Most inhabited worlds would make you pay the fine of a stowaway, but the Empire considers it piracy and they're not content to just extract money."

The kid visibly shook, and Chopper didn't help matters by shocking him with his electric probe. The zap at least got him talking.

"Hey, sorry! I didn't mean it, honest! I just wanted to see where you were going! I wasn't trying to stow away—and I'm definitely not a pirate! I've never even met a pirate!"

Hera had spent too much time around people out for their own gain. Anymore, her suspicion fired before her sympathy had even woken up. If this kid was supposed to be part of the treasure hunting expedition, then maybe she didn't have to jettison him out of the back of her ship like she would've done to anyone else.

She pointed to a seat on the opposite wall, closest to the bow. "Sit over here. When I land, stay on the ship and don't touch anything." He dove for the seat, averting his eyes as she returned to the pilot's chair.

They flew in silence for what felt like ages before a farmstead came into view on the horizon. Hera hailed it. The comms crackled to life.

"Captain Syndulla, is that you?" came a playfully incredulous voice that had her rolling her eyes within the first two words. "I wasn't expecting you to call again so soon, I'm honored! What can I do for you?"

"I have a business proposal for you, if you'll hear me out."

"Of course!" For being so jovial, the voice lacked all sincerity.

"I'd like to speak to you in person. I'll be landing in a minute."

She terminated communication before her stowaway spoke up.

"Are you bringing someone else into this?"

Hera didn't look back at him as she eased the ship onto the ground, but she could feel his confusion and distrust radiating from behind her.

"I'm just asking a friend for a favor, really," she said.

"You're lying."

"You're right," she said, spinning the single pilot seat around to match his stare. "He's not a friend."

Hera made sure the boy stayed fixed in his seat before lowering the ramp, only to find Lando Calrissian approaching her ship with his arms wide as if ready for a hug.

"Just seeing you improves my day, Captain! Welcome back to the homestead." His smile was all show, underlining how strange it was that a kid, more of a stranger than Lando, could exhibit greater sincerity.

Hera clomped down the ramp at a determined pace in hopes he would follow her away from potential eavesdroppers. Luckily for her, Lando followed. "Look, I've landed a job to the Akujii System, and I need to get my hands on a decent ship with hyperdrive capabilities. At this point, I can afford a fifth of one." A really cheap one.

"So you're looking for a financier?" Lando said, rubbing his chin. "I've got a pile of credits stashed away for when I'm in a pinch, but I confess I can't see how buying you a ship benefits me at all."

"A couple of guys have a map to a treasure. Help get them there and you'll have a cut."

"Akujii, huh?" The silence puddling between them as Lando silently considered her offer was somehow even more unsettling than his over-friendliness. "If I remember my astrography correctly, that's on the other side of the galaxy."

"…Roughly."

"You'll need more than a ship; you'll need a crew."

"A crew needs to be paid."

"We're hunting treasure, aren't we? A dozen spacers from any port would jump at the chance!"

"Wait a minute," Hera intoned. "Do you plan to tag along?"

"If I'm financing the ship, I need to protect my investment! And as luck should have it, I keep my ear to the ground for potential job opportunities and I know for a fact that the Empire needs a shipment delivered. They'll pay handsomely the sooner it's picked up, and they're contracting civilian ships. If you want a decent freighter, I need my cargo delivered to fully cover the cost, and then we can be on our way to the Akujii System." Lando held out his hand.

Hera had no other option at her disposal. No one else she did business with had the kind of funds Lando had, and out of all those other clients, at least Lando bathed. She shook his hand.

"Perfect," Lando said with a wide smile. "You'll have a ship by the end of the day, Captain."

…

It was quite possible that Maketh Tua had said something to someone, because halfway through the day, a droid rolled into Kix's workspace with an entire crate of ulf shots. Just as mysterious as his sudden supply was the sudden knowledge by Imperials that he was stocked. A line of beige formed. Most of Kix's patients were professional enough, waiting to be seen, following instructions, leaving without a word of thanks. But then a hat appeared in the doorway, just behind a tall officer.

As expected, the hat turned out to be on Tua's head, and Kix motioned her to the next free medbed. Her blue outfit was the only spark of color in the entire room.

"Welcome back, Minister," Kix said, though it was possible she didn't hear him over her datapad reading. She dropped it onto the medbed to roll up her opposite sleeve and Kix took this opportunity at her attention. "I guess it's fortunate timing that Empire Day is nearing, so there aren't any factory workers to hold up the line."

The look she gave him, indecisively hovering between hesitant and uncomfortable, was the face of someone who lacked a lifetime of exposure to various degrees of humor.

Kix assembled his necessary medical instruments on the bedside tray, interrupted by the chirping of Tua's commlink.

"Yes, what is it?" she huffed.

"Minister," a curt voice announced, "you wanted to be notified when forty-eight hours had elapsed."

Tua vented a wearied groan. "Yes, all right, thank you."

"Problem?" Kix asked

"It's that inquisitor," said Tua, sneering as if the very name inconvenienced her. "He's failed to check in despite acknowledging our procedures."

Kix sterilized the crook of her elbow. "Well, he seemed… the opposite of Imperial military. But I'm sure there's a supervisor somewhere you could contact."

"Yes, quite separate and apart from the military, I'm afraid. I was hoping to avoid more contact with them, if I waited long enough for the inquisitor to return I wouldn't have to…" Kix administered her shot and Tua cleared her throat. "I don't know why I'm telling you all this, though. Not exactly professional."

"Not to worry, Minister. I faithfully abide by the standard practice of doctor-patient confidentiality," Kix said with a smile.

…

Hera landed back in Lothal City halfway through the lunch hour, and the second the boarding ramp lowered, Ezra darted through the empty streets to Old Jho's Inn. Running across a dust-covered floor, Ezra saw Jho hurry two plates out to a couple patrons sitting at the bar, apologizing for the delay. Then, as if radar was also built into his translation device, Jho's eyes locked in on Ezra donning his apron. And bore into him.

"Sorry I'm late, Jho. I was—"

"Don't stand there, get to work!" he snapped. Ezra complied with a bowed head; sure Jho had been irritated with him in the past, but never truly angry at him. But then again, Ezra had never been three hours late to work.

The dirty tables Jho hadn't gotten to were bussed and the floor swept by the time Hera and Chopper entered. They found their preferred corner booth in the back and Ezra determinedly cleaned in their direction.

"I'll take a meiloorun tea," Hera said as if to a complete stranger.

Ezra shot a pout at her. "Why does your friend need you to deliver a shipment for the Empire?"

"You heard that, did you?" Her mouth formed a straight line, but nothing about her manner appeared embarrassed or even ashamed.

"They hurt people! How can you do business with the Empire when it just helps them out?!"

Hera's green eyes flashed up. "Look, I've been around the Empire a lot longer than you, so I'm fully acquainted with how bad some people have it. But not everyone has the privilege of working independent of the most wide-spread organization in the galaxy. Lando needs money for our travel, and without him, we're not getting off the ground. So take your moral superiority and stow it."

Ezra's chest tightened at her words, each one stabbing like a knife. He brought Hera her tea and then proceeded to avoid her the rest of the day.

Upside-down chairs lined the bar by the time Hera's human contact, her "not a friend," entered the inn that night. Ezra paused his last round of sweeping to study the dark-skinned man, now much closer than Ezra had seen him earlier that day. His charisma was practically colorful compared to the locals Ezra was used to, and the man focused friendly attention and an easy smile on anyone he spoke with. The first of his recipients happened to be Ezra.

"Good evening! Would you happen to know where Captain Syndulla is? I'm a friend; I have her ship ready to go."