Star Wars: Ahsoka

Tibbola was drunk, even though his shift had ended at the same time as Kaeden’s. Ahsoka hadn’t seen him in weeks, as the laborer made his rounds of the various cantinas and watering holes Raada had to offer. Now, when there were Imperial officers at the bar, he was present, and he was at his worst. Tibbola was cunning enough when he was sober, but this inebriated he was a mess. He’d been glaring at the Imperials ever since they cut him off from the bar. When they blocked his attempt to order another round, he lost what little control he had remaining and tried to muscle his way past them. His blows were clumsy, but he was strong, and enough of his hits landed that the Imperials responded in force. One of them pushed Tibbola back, hard, and Ahsoka knew it was only the opening salvo. The Empire didn’t really do warning shots.

“You Imperials.” Tibbola’s words were slurred as he stumbled back. Somehow he managed to keep his feet. “Coming to my moon and messing with me. You have no idea what you’re in for.”

An officer casually punched Tibbola in the gut. It was a hard blow, hard enough that Tibbola went to his knees and vomited everything he’d had to drink but not hard enough to keep him down.

Tibbola roared insensibly and charged the officer. Ahsoka lunged quickly and blocked Hoban, who would have gone to help, until Neera could pull him back into his chair. Kaeden and Miara watched, horrified, as the officer deflected Tibbola’s attack again. Then, calmly, the officer called out to the stormtroopers who’d been waiting in the street while their superiors drank. They came inside and put their hands on Tibbola’s shoulders, keeping him down for good.

“The Empire will not tolerate disobedience,” said the officer, more to the others in the cantina than to Tibbola himself.

Tibbola, in a moment of sobriety, seemed to realize what he’d done. His eyes filled with panic as he cast them around the room, looking for someone to help him. No one moved.

“No,” he said. “I’m sorry, please!”

But it was no use. The officer gestured to the stormtrooper who stood closest to the door, and the trooper raised his blaster.

“Don’t look,” Ahsoka whispered into Kaeden’s ear, and Kaeden pulled her sister’s face down on the table, blocking both their views.

But it didn’t block the sound of a blaster in close quarters, or the smell of charred flesh. At least it was fast; Tibbola didn’t scream.

The Imperials stepped over the smoking body and exited the cantina. There was no noise for several moments after they left, except the sounds Miara made as she vomited beside the table.

“That’s why we have to be careful,” Ahsoka said, looking directly at Hoban when she spoke. His eyes were wide, and she knew he’d listen to her now.

“Come on, Hoban,” said Vartan. His voice was gray, but determined. “We’ll have to bury him tonight.”

They picked up the body and carried it out. Neera trailed after them. She looked like she was going to be sick. Ahsoka suspected she’d rather be anywhere else but was reluctant to let her brother out of her sight. Ahsoka didn’t blame her. Once they were gone, she looked back at Kaeden and Miara.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

There was a short pause, and then Miara leaned sharply forward, vomiting again into her empty bowl. Kaeden rubbed her sister’s shoulders, even though her face was as wan as Ahsoka had ever seen it. Selda came over with water for them and some bread so that Miara could get the taste out of her mouth.

“How can you be so calm?” Miara demanded, her voice high. Ahsoka suspected that the bread was a bit stale and that focusing on chewing it was keeping the girl from full-on hysterics. “Where are you from?”

“Don’t bug her,” Kaeden said. Her voice was shaky. “Finish that, and we’ll go home.”

Kaeden wrestled the crokin board back onto the table. While Miara chewed obediently, Kaeden started firing pieces slowly, hitting the center target over and over again, even though that wasn’t how the game went. Ahsoka figured it gave her something to focus on.

“You have to take a piece if it’s there,” Ahsoka mused, looking at the board.

“What?” Kaeden said.

“In crokin,” Ahsoka clarified. “You don’t just get to take the shots you want. You have to shoot at your opponent’s pieces. So let’s do that.”

“Shoot with what?” Miara asked, her mouth full. “We don’t have a lot of blasters.”

“No,” Ahsoka said. “Not like that. The Imperials want a fast crop. So what you do is slow it down.”

“How?” Kaeden said. Both sisters looked better now. Ahsoka had successfully distracted them.

“I have no idea,” Ahsoka said. “I’m not a farmer. But Vartan will know, or one of the other crew leads. You still talk to each other in the fields, right? And it’s more difficult for the Imperials to overhear you there. You can organize yourselves that way. The crew leads will meet to discuss information and then pass it off to their crews.”

“That’s very smart,” Kaeden said. “And it doesn’t even break the rules. We’re allowed to meet with our crews.”