Star Wars Rebels: Paving a New Road

Chapter 5: Taking Stock

"The bigger the planet, the bigger the population. The bigger the population, the larger the cell. It's just a matter of bringing them over to our side."

- Tarisian Rebellion cell operator known only as "The Recruiter"

"Long time no see compatriots," Kasri said. "Please follow me."

"What's with the politeness, Bridger?" Zeb growled.

"It helps with the disguise," Kasri answered. "Imperial security at Coruscant prefers good, pliant, acquiescent servants who perceive only goodness in their Empire. Anything less is aberrant, and suspicious. We'll talk more informally on another occasion, should it present itself. In the meantime, please take your seats."

Rishar, silent as always, guided the Rebels to their seats in the cabin. Kasri moved to the front of the ship, sliding on his pilot's headset. Ezra, now alone to his thoughts, took this time to meditate. He let his thoughts wander across every tangent; how to keep up the facade, what he should do if their disguise is blown, what the six of them could...

Five, Ezra. Sabine's dead, that voice in the back of Ezra's head reminded him.

Ezra sighed, leaning over, rubbing his temples. "Who am I kidding? I can't do this," he muttered aloud.

"Say somethin' kid?" Zeb asked from behind him.

"Nothing," Ezra snapped.

Zeb shrugged, and leaned back in his seat, ready to take a nap.

Ezra envied Zeb. He seemed so carefree when he wasn't in his whole gung-ho warrior mojo mood. He wished he could sleep as well as Zeb did. Nothing ever seemed to faze him. He didn't dwell on these un-Jedi thoughts long, but he no less wished once more for the company of Sabine. Even if she didn't listen, she was someone he could talk to.

Yes, that's what it had been. She had been an excellent listener, a confidant, a friend indeed.

Coruscant was going to be unbearable without her.

*

The quiet, even undulations of the hyperdrive lulled Ezra into a deep, long-awaited sleep. His dreamless repose went undisturbed by his fellow rebels, even when the Ang-Qri dignitary boarded with his real entourage. Kanan took this moment to speak with Hera, Zeb and Chopper in earnest.

"Has Ezra seemed...off to you lately?" he asked them.

"Whaddya mean?" Zeb replied.

"Has he seemed more irritable? Angry?" Kanan offered.

"No, just more...withdrawn," Hera answered. "Sabine's death really did a number on him."

"Poor kid," Zeb murmured. "Set his heart to soon and too hard. I don't think he'll ever fully come back from it."

"The least we can do for him," Kanan said, "is look out for him from here on out. We're practically his family."

"Was it ever a question?" Hera asked.

Chopper buzzed optimistically, only to be cut off by Kasri's crisp, Coruscanti-accent voice over the PA.

"Honored delegates and gentlebeings, we are about to come out of hyperspace above beautiful Imperial Center. If you will please strap in, we will begin entering the atmosphere shortly. Thank you for flying with us."

Zeb shuddered slightly. "He's way too good at that."

"Comes with the job," Kanan guessed. "Chop, wake Ezra up, nicely."

Chopper whirred in affirmation, and moved to wake him up. He gently prodded Ezra's leg with his arm appendage, and buzzed that it was time to wake. Ezra groaned, stretched, and sat up. He turned to his friends.

"Is it time?" he asked somewhat dazedly.

The sound of the hyperdrive cutting out, the lights of hyperspace darkening, and the great sphere of what was once Coruscant swelling in their sight, answered his question.

"Well," he said. "Let's do this. Imperial Center here we come."

It was a few minutes later the ship was cleared for landing and the ship began descending on autopilot through the atmosphere. The rebels moved to join the representative and his real entourage, actually blending in far better than originally anticipated; apparently when it came to abstract, almost eyesore designs, the Ang-Qri had no qualms of the opinions of others. Alnach Tassaf paid them no undue attention; one of the conditions of working with the rebels was forswearing knowing he knew who they were, so he couldn't look at them.

Landing gear and hydraulics began hissing and clunking, and the passengers began disembarking. Ezra was about to leave when Kasri began calling, "Excuse me sir!", causing him to turn to face his brother.

"What do you want?" Ezra asked.

"I just wanted to say, I am so sorry about your friend," Kasri answered sincerely. "Believe me when I say I know what it's like to lose someone you love. We'll talk later when you come back."

A sharp whistle came from Rishar, who was pointing urgently outside the ship, where the rest of the rebels were waiting awkwardly for Ezra.

"Now get going," Kasri said. "Stay safe."

Ezra simply nodded and got off the ship to join the others. How could Kasri have possibly known? To the best of his knowledge, neither he nor any of his friends had told Kasri about Sabine's death. He must have tapped a wire on the Preserver or had contacts in Clan Skirata. He would keep that in mind for future reference.

Stepping out of the ship, the first thing Ezra observed about Coruscant was the stench; not smell, stench. He'd smelled Loth-cow manure piles cleaner than the air he was breathing now. How could people bear it? He nearly hurled right on the spot, but Zeb, who had been waiting for him, grabbed Ezra by his bicep and essentially dragged him to a nearby airbus, with tinted windows and an unobtrusive design.

Kanan, Hera and Chopper were already inside, sitting silently with several other persons of various species and disguises. Ezra took a seat as the craft shuttled into Coruscant traffic.

A Human in the front of the shuttle stood up to address the new members. "Welcome to Coruscant. My name is Jaller Obrim. I'm one of the leaders of this cell. I'll be blunt; we didn't expect you to be joining us so soon, or at all for that matter. You'll be floating around Stock for a bit until we find a place for you, but you'll do your bit for the Rebellion. Save questions for when we get to Stock; everything will be answered there. Any questions?"

None of the former Lothal rebels raised a hand.

Obrim nodded, then turned his attention back to the cockpit.

Kanan turned to Ezra. "If you're uneasy with any of this," he intoned softly, "let me know, okay?"

Ezra nodded mutely, looking out at the Coruscant cityscape. He was seeing more durasteel and transparisteel in seconds than he had seen in his entire life on Lothal. Kanan decided to leave it at that; Ezra needed some peace of mind for once, to allow his mind to wander.

It hadn't escaped Kanan's notice Ezra had been smitten by Sabine, especially after the Battle of Mandalore. He himself had nothing against it, but if Ezra was to become a Jedi, he'd have to let go of his attachment to Sabine, even if it was memory.

It would just take patience and time.

Little did they know how much time would be of the essence in their near future.