Selda walked slowly across the cantina toward the notice. Ahsoka wondered if he would tear it down, but he only read it quietly, his shoulders slumping more with every line.
“The thing about crokin,” said Vartan, taking the last disc from Neera’s grasp, “is that you don’t have to hit the opponent’s piece head-on. You can wing it, if you want, and hope for a good ricochet.”
He lined up the shot and flicked the disc at Kaeden’s. He clipped the edge, and both pieces went flying off the board.
“Sometimes you don’t get it,” he said. “But you still get points.”
Neera’s piece was the only one remaining on the board. Her points showed up on the scoreboard a moment later, once the board realized that all the pieces had been played and the game was over.
“We still win,” Kaeden said. “We have Malat’s points from the beginning.”
“That’s the other thing about crokin,” Vartan added. “You have to remember every piece that’s been played, even the ones removed from the board, because some of them might count against you in the end.”
His words made Ahsoka uncomfortable. She didn’t like the way she automatically began to think about tactics. She got up from the table and went to read the notice board. It was, as she suspected, a list of rules. There was a curfew in place now, which would, among other things, make it nearly impossible for anyone working the late shift to eat out when they were done. They’d have to eat at home. There were rules forbidding group meetings of more than a certain number. The Imperials weren’t closing the cantinas, but they were shortening the hours and restricting the food and alcohol available. With the lost business, it would be only a matter of time before the cantinas closed on their own.
It was everything you’d do to keep the locals from communicating with each other and getting organized. It was everything you’d do to soften them up before the hammer fell. It was everything Ahsoka didn’t think the farmers on Raada would be able to counter. Scenarios ran through her mind, ideas for insurgency and defense. Reluctantly, this time she let them.
She turned away from the notice and made space for the others who wanted to read it. She pushed her way back through the strange and crowded silence to where her friends were sitting, and when she sat down, she relayed what she’d read. She didn’t tell them any of her conclusions about what the new rules meant. They would figure it out, or they wouldn’t, but she would have to be careful to conceal her military experience now. There was no guessing how it might be used against her if the Imperials found out. She had to keep her secrets for as long as she could.
Ahsoka looked at the crokin board, at the single piece that remained despite the efforts of both sides. They’d traded shots, and even Ahsoka’s mistake, which provided an easier target, hadn’t been enough to change the game’s outcome. Neera’s piece hadn’t been enough to make a difference in the end. The game had been settled on the third move, long before any of them was aware of it.
Ahsoka had no idea what points the Empire might have stowed away already, but she knew it was one of the tactics the Imperials used. Order 66 had been part of a very long game, and there was no reason to think that Palpatine had gotten any less foresighted since gaining full power. She was also aware that Raada didn’t have much to fight with, if it came to a fight. No real ships for air support, no heavy artillery. But maybe it wouldn’t go that far. Maybe they would be lucky. Maybe the Empire would take what it wanted and go.
Maybe it would, she thought. But what would it leave behind?
Chapter 08
TWO STORMTROOPERS stopped at Ahsoka’s house the next morning. She’d locked the door, setting Miara’s device for security before she went to sleep. It was a small defense, but at least it would be a warning if she needed it. Now it prevented the stormtroopers from simply barging in.
The troopers hammered on the door, and Ahsoka considered her options. Resisting would be stupid at this point. For all she knew, they just needed directions or wanted a count of the number of people who lived in town. Ahsoka could handle two troopers, even if they turned out to be clones, but it wouldn’t be quiet. Better to be Ashla for as long as she could. She took a deep breath, remembered to look at the ground, and opened the door.
“Can I help you, sirs?” she asked.
“Why aren’t you at work?” one of them snapped. Vartan was right. They weren’t clones. Ahsoka relaxed, just a little bit.
“I am at work,” she said. “I mean, I’m not a farmer. I fix the equipment when it’s broken, see?”
She gestured behind her, where the pieces of the broken vaporator were still spread out on the table. It was an easy fix, but the previous day had been a little distracting.
“We’ll need your information,” said the other trooper. “You may be reassigned to field work if it becomes necessary.”
Ahsoka paused. She did not want to be exposed out in the fields. She didn’t have a lot of freedom, but in town she could almost always find an excuse to leave and go into the hills. It was important she maintain that. She raised her eyes and looked directly at the stormtroopers’ helmets, where their eyes were concealed behind lenses.
“You don’t need to reassign me,” she said, and leaned on them with the Force. “The work I do is important for food production.”
It hung there for a moment, and Ahsoka wondered if she’d pushed too far. But then they looked at each other.
“We don’t need to reassign her,” said the first one.
“The work she does is important for food production,” the second agreed.
Ahsoka smiled. “So glad we could have this little chat. Is there anything else I can help you with?”
The stormtroopers looked at her, confused for a moment. She could imagine their blinking eyes and perplexed expressions, except she didn’t know what their faces looked like. She refused to imagine them with Rex’s face. They shook their heads, lowering their blasters and taking half a step back.
“Make sure you follow the new rules,” the second trooper said. “They are posted in several places around the town. Familiarize yourself with them.”
“I will,” she said. “Have a good day!”
She shut the door before they could say anything else. She liked how flummoxed they seemed by basic manners, though her intrusion into their minds was likely part of their befuddlement. She activated the lock with a quick press of her finger and it glowed green as it sealed the door.
“Remind me to ask Miara what happens if you get triggered,” she said to the lock, absently running her hand across the control pad. Miara had said it would be shocking to anyone who broke in, and Ahsoka hadn’t asked for specifics at the time. Now, though, it was probably a good idea to be aware of what everyone around her was capable of.
The Imperials were still setting up their base. The Star Destroyer was gone, or at least out of sight, but it had left behind the building blocks for a good-sized administrative building and barracks that could house several dozen stormtroopers. They hadn’t had time to lock down the spaceport yet, and Ahsoka wanted to get her ship out of there before they did. The only problem was that she had no other place to put it.
She looked at the vaporator parts. They could wait another day.
She emptied the crate of ration packs—Kaeden’s payment for the very first repair job—into her bag. Almost all of them fit, but after a moment’s thought, Ahsoka took ten out and put them back in the crate. She would need some food on hand, after all. She added the latest package of metal pieces to the top of the bag and filled her water canteen. After a moment’s thought, she added a cutting tool to the bag as well, then picked up the shredded cloths that the vaporator had been wrapped in when its owner dropped it off. She twisted them until they looked like a hunting sling and hung it from her belt, hoping that any Imperials she ran into didn’t know that hunting on this moon was next to pointless. Then she went to the door and looked up and down the street.