So it goes.

By PerilousPie

Chapter 3: The Tears of the Parents

"Fission moderator?" The shop keeper said, "no, no, we don't have it."

Zeb's face fell and he scrubbed a hand against the back of his head.

"Karabast," he gritted out.

The shop keeper frowned, taken in partially by Zeb's plight.

"You're not going to find something like that in any of the shops in Capital," he explained.

A glower came on Zeb's face and the shop keeper swallowed in fear.

"I'm very sorry," the shop keeper apologized profusely.

Zeb just waved his hand, fed up with the whole process. He'd spent the last five hours searching, his whole morning and part of his afternoon wasted by a bunch of shop keepers or mechanics turning him away. They needed that fission moderator though and not finding one wasn't exactly an option.

"Why should I trust you?" The boy said, glaring suspiciously at Kanan from where he was huddled protectively around himself.

Kanan, still stunned by the revelation, and struggling to come to terms with the fact that he had a force sensitive child in front of him, did not answer. That and the fact that he'd had a hand in the boy's difficult life.

"Is this supposed to be good cop, bad cop? Because I already said everything about Mok, I don't know anything else," the boy's voice which started out defiant, broke a little at the end.

Kanan blinked, right, this kid probably didn't even know about the force and he most definitely didn't know about Kanan's involvement with his parents.

"No, this isn't that," Kanan said, and he wondered if the boy's honesty with his name had more to do with fear of being put at the mercy of the IT-O again.

His mind was racing through what he should do, if he kept the boy here, at some point they would do a more in depth in-processing, one which included a midichlorian count. If he let the boy go though, he would end up back on the street. Is that your problem? Kanan asked himself. He felt guilty for thinking it, but was it really his problem? He could let the kid go and not have to worry about him again. Kanan immediately felt a wave of protest through the force. The boy felt it too and his gaze narrowed.

"How did you do that? Who are you?" The boy, Ezra Kanan reminded himself, said, sounding afraid.

Kanan had a feeling about what he was supposed to do, everything in him revolted at the idea.

"You eaten yet, kid?" Kanan asked distractedly.

"You didn't answer my question," Ezra said in irritation before adding in a quieter voice, "no, what's it matter to you?"

Kanan gave a nod. Pulling out a small data pad he'd brought with him, he punched in a few commands.

"I'm Special Agent Kanan Jarrus with the ISB, I specialize in Interrogation. I didn't do anything, what you felt was the force."

"You're lying," Ezra retorted, "you made that up."

Kanan shook his head.

"Believe me, at this point it's not exactly something you want to have."

Ezra was quiet and Kanan occupied himself with the data pad, completing the paperwork on Ezra Bridger, or technically now Perin Losp, no need to have the actual names. He frowned, the extra need for precaution with using the boy's actual name was his own fault. He'd dragged the truth of the Bridger's son's abilities from the tortured mouth of Mira Bridger.

Flashback

"Look, Mrs. Bridger, every moment you draw this out is a mark against your husband," Kanan drawled, watching the woman before him.

Mira Bridger was a slight woman, not so very aged, but her time in Imperial prison and then her time in Bnach's penal system had cut harsh lines of exhaustion and weariness across her face. She was wispy, very likely to blow away and Kanan knew just by looking at her that she didn't have much time left. He wasn't sure she'd live to her scheduled execution.

"Y-you wouldn't," her voice was hoarse, a trembling soprano of fear and desperation.

Kanan kept a straight face, he'd pushed down his emotions a long time ago. This was work, pulling the truth from the enemies of the Empire.

"I'm sure he'll last only a day on the out team," Kanan said, voice speculative, cruelly making light of her husband's life.

The out team was assigned to the hard labor in the mines, there the acidic dust permeated the air, slowly poisoning the workers. Most didn't survive more than a week.

Mira Bridger bowed her upper half, a harsh sob coughing from her.

"Please, no," she said softly, and Kanan knew she was begging to someone other than him.

It was silent a few long moments as Kanan withheld the guilt which was clawing at the door he shoved it behind.

"Then tell me about who you worked with, Mrs. Bridger," Kanan said evenly.

"No one," Mira cried out, looking desperately at Kanan, imploring him to believe.

"You're lying," Kanan replied coldly, despite the fact that something told him that she was telling the full truth.

"No!" Mira nearly shouted, "no one!"

Mira stared up at him, shocking blue eyes staring up at him in tears.

"We were alone, it's why we had to," her voice was low with emotion.

She was telling the truth and Kanan knew he'd exhausted this line of questioning. There had to be something more though, what else would provoke two parents to risk everything? The only thing he could think of was for an untapped future. Taking a step back, Kanan peered at the data pad he had in hand. According to the files, an Ezra Bridger, age seven, had been their only son. He'd been marked missing/dead, the date coincided with the day of the Bridger's arrest.

"What about Ezra?" Kanan said, folding his arms, one hand hanging loosely with the data pad.

He watched her stiffen, eyes closing off and a deep fear emanating from her. Kanan probed a little, his weak connection with the force now primarily used to subtly influence prisoners to the truth or to get a more intuitive reading on a situation. What he was getting was that Ezra was important, Mira was hiding something about her son.

"He's gone," she said, voice dead.

Kanan let a small smile creep on his face, he'd picked the right topic.

Kanan was pulled out of the memory by a med bot arriving along with a droid carrying food. Ezra had just stayed quiet and Kanan, even with his mental shields thrown up, could feel the boy's pain, exhaustion and fading attention. This session was nearing its end.

At the sound of the bots the boy flinched, his eyes which had been at half mast snapped open and Kanan felt a pulse of horrible fear through the force. Kanan nearly left then, willing to let the bots attend to the boy, but after the torture sessions the boy probably wasn't mentally up to having any machine near him.

"It's just food," Kanan said.

Ezra eyed the med bot skeptically.

"And maybe some first aid," Kanan added on.

In truth, the kid wouldn't be able to receive any pain killers, the cocktail of drugs the IT-O served up were dangerous as well as excruciating and the Empire hadn't exactly done a study to see how pain medication interacted with any of the drugs. Kanan wasn't going to risk a deadly combination.

Kanan took the metal tray of food and set it near the boy, dismissing the droid, and then motioned to the med bot.

"No!" Ezra snapped out as soon as it started to approach.

Kanan had it stop.

"It's your choice, kid."

"No," Ezra said more quietly, Kanan could feel the waves of fear and remembered pain bursting out of the boy.

"Alright then," Kanan said, dismissing the med bot as well.

Turning he left the cell.

The last person Kanan wanted to see was the Mandalorian girl. But there she was, leaned up against the counter of Interrogations with a self-satisfied smirk on her face.

"Kanan," she said with mocking cheer.

"Glad to see you working hard, really standing up to the Empire, aren't you?"

Kanan grit his teeth.

"What do you want?"

She moved away from the counter, a pleased smile adorning her lips as she drew her response out.

"I want my intel, from the little loth-rat if you haven't let him go yet," she said, eyeing her nails before looking up at him.

Kanan let out a sigh of annoyance, he didn't have time to deal with this right now, bigger things were piling up.

"Look, you don't tell me, I have a little chat with that pretty little Twi'lek and whatever con you're pulling gets the rug pulled out from under it," the girl flashed a grin, white teeth shining like ragged pearls.

Kanan cursed, even though he'd kind of been anticipating some kind of black mail like this ever since he'd parted ways with the Mandalorian at the market place, it didn't make it any easier having to deal with her. Kanan liked Hera and would prefer that she didn't know about his true identity. But it was more than that, if the half cocked plan he was baking were to work it would need the cooperation of the Twi'lek captain, a cooperation he wouldn't have the moment she knew exactly who he was. This was down to a lot more than a slight infatuation. Mind quickly searching for a solution, he came upon one which would be surprisingly easy so long as he did it right.

"Alright," Kanan said stiffly.

The Mandalorian raised her brows in surprise, she obviously hadn't expected him to bend so quickly. Kanan moved to one of the empty desks in the Interrogation office, Linch was apparently on break, and began using one of the computers to bring up the files from his acquisition. Like he thought, Hooge had committed a perfunctory job and all of the time before Kanan had entered Ezra's cell had been recorded. Ezra had claimed he'd said everything about Mok and Kanan hoped it would be enough to satisfy, at least temporarily, the Mandalorian bounty hunter.

He copied the files onto a storage disk which he ejected from the computer and then, standing up walked back over to the girl.

"Here," he said, holding the disc out, "everything he said."

"Pleasure doing business," she purred out, grabbing the disc before walking away.

Kanan watched her go, his mind now turning to more pressing matters. He needed to speak with Hera.

Sabine was very pleased, the ISB agent had been easier to deal with than she'd originally anticipated. Then again, she shouldn't be too surprised, Imperials were spineless cowards. With the disc in hand, she headed back to the way-place room which she and Ketsu were using as a temporary base. She knew Ketsu was out gathering intel, probably trying to find a bounty worth tracking, and that would give Sabine plenty of time to peruse the files and find the dirt she needed to take Mok down.

Sabine thought about her near obsession with Mok. Ketsu was right, it didn't make sense. It definitely didn't profit them to take him down, a big crime boss like that wasn't the kind of enemy you wanted to make. But Mok was evil, with a booming sex and slave trade, a hand deep in drug production and distribution (specifically death sticks) and a violent presence on the streets, Mok more than deserved to be taken down. Sabine clenched her fist, this wasn't some silly need to repair the damage she'd done, this wasn't her guilt speaking. She told herself that she was doing this purely because Mok was a bad guy and she, Sabine Wren a bounty hunter, wanted the money bringing Mok in would get her.

Settling herself at the desk, she pulled out a cheap holo transcripter and inserted the disc. With quick, deft fingers she brought the video up and pressed play.

She saw the street rat huddled in the corner of the room. A tall, gangly man was standing at the mouth, hovering over the threshold. He was screwing with a data pad and had obviously just turned the recording on. He let out a horrible laugh, said a few words mentioning the ISB agent Jarrus' name. Sabine cocked her head. So the man she'd dealt with hadn't interrogated the boy. She frowned, tucking away that tid bit with both curiosity and confusion.

An IT-O entered. Sabine was shocked before horror washed over her and guilt built in her gut. It was a heavy nauseating sensation and she had to tighten her hands to fists to stop their trembling. The video proceeded and the IT-O attended to the boy with awful clinical steadiness. She was surprised though, the boy resisted for a long time, said nothing except obscenities and insults. In fact, he lasted an entire hour before the IT-O stopped, its programmed schedule having run its course, and left the room. The interrogator from before didn't even return from before.

The tape blipped black for a second, indicating that the first recording session was over. The next began in a similar manner, except this time the man from before said nothing, save for letting out a horrible bark of laughter before leaving. The boy broke in minutes, sobbing out everything he knew to get it to stop. Sabine felt sick, knowing that the IT-O was on another schedule, most likely another hour, and couldn't hear or rationalize whether the boy broke or not. And she knew, without needing evidence to inform her, that the man from before either was watching without care to the boy's honesty or wasn't even watching at all.

Sabine skipped through parts of the hour, the parts where the boy screamed for his mother and father, or the parts where he simply sobbed. When it was over, Sabine felt ill. The room was unflinchingly quiet, the inculpating walls pressing in around her hissing with silence her blame, her fault in the whole affair. Sabine tried to take in a steadying breath, but failed. This was like the academy, where she'd shone like a star under Imperial tutelage, had pressed her mind to create weapons and to deal harm because to her the Empire had been a brilliant, paradigm which was her lodestar. What amount of blood could stain something so perfect? The crashing walls of illusion had lifted the scales from her eyes and she had seen what she'd done. Death stood at her door as a weary witness. So Sabine had run, and had been running.

This though, this was excusable, wasn't it? What was one street rat when compared to the many who suffered at Mok's hand. She could undermine his sex trade, freeing lives. Taking him down would hurt his entire business and in that, save many more lives than that boy's. Besides, he was a street rat, more likely than not he would be dead or a violent criminal by the time he hit thirteen. No great loss to the galaxy.

Thus rationalized, Sabine felt the weight on her chest lift slightly, even though she herself could feel the falsity of her reasoning. The sound of the door pulled her from her thoughts.

Ketsu had stepped in, a smile on her face. She gave a nod of greeting to Sabine before heading to the water basin to wash her hands and face.

"You look psychotic," Ketsu said cheerily, "good ol' Sabine back?"

Sabine stood up, feeling triumphant.

"I got Mok, Ketsu, after all this time, I got Mok."

Ketsu stiffened, straightening quickly. She stared at Sabine with a pinched brow.

"How?"

Sabine held up the disc with a sharp smile on her face.

"Street rat panned out," she replied.

Ketsu managed a stiff smile, looking for all rights like she was happy for Sabine.

"Good job," she said, moving forward to grab the disc.

Sabine let her, setting both hands on her hips. Ketsu peered at the disc, something about her manner off. She held it up.

"This the only evidence?" She asked.

"Yeah, but I've already seen it, it's not worth much now, I know everything I need to," Sabine said flippantly.

An emotion crossed Ketsu's face, something very worrying, but Sabine didn't notice.

"I see," Ketsu replied.

"I'm going to head out, make the best of the intel, if you wanna come, you can," Sabine offered, ladening herself with weapons.

Ketsu shook her head, eyes distant.

"No, that's alright, you did the work, you can net the pay."

"Alright, you're missing out though," Sabine called over her shoulder, exiting the room.

Ketsu's smile faded, and she stared at the door with a knit brow and crossed arms.

"I'm sorry, Sabine," she said softly, before glancing down at the disc.

Hera was starting to get worried.

"Nothing?" She asked.

Zeb shook his head solemnly.

Hera let out a sigh, crossing her arms and staring to the side in thought. Zeb felt useless, he hated feeling useless. With a frustrated huff, he started pacing. After a few minutes, Hera spoke.

"How many nights do we have left to dock?" Hera asked.

Zeb shrugged.

"'Nother two, three weeks," he replied, "but that's not gonna help us if we can't get off the kriffing planet."

Hera gave a nod.

"I know, but we need to save money. I-I think I'm going to try setting the Ghost out on the plains," she said hesitantly.

Zeb's eyes blew wide with shock.

"Seriously?! Don't they have, I don't know, creatures, out there?" Zeb responded, gesturing in a direction which may or may not have been towards the plains.

"Look, it's not like we have many options, if the Ghost gets grounded and we run out of credits we'll lose her," Hera replied testily.

"Yeah, and then we can slowly starve or be eaten by wild animals in the wastelands of Lothal, great plan, besides can you even get this piece of bantha fodder off the ground?" Zeb bit back, the situation wasn't one he dealt with very well.

Give Zeb blaster shots and battles and he could keep his cool, give him waiting games and mechanical failures and he was bound to lose it. Useless was not something he dealt well with.

"I can reroute auxiliary power from the back up power cells, that way we don't have to use the turbine reactor, it should be enough to get us out of city limits."

Zeb let out a huff, about to say something when his ears pricked up.

"Wha' was that?" He said.

Hera blinked in surprise.

"What was 'what'?" She asked.

Zeb held a hand up, "listen."

There was someone knocking on the docking door. The two exchanged a confused look, before Hera shrugged, moving towards the door. They climbed down the ladder into the loading area and hesitated once again. The knocking was louder as they were now closer to the source.

"Well, here goes nothing," Hera said, opening the door.

The docking door lowered to reveal the man from before, Kanan. Both Hera and Zeb looked surprised.

"Kanan?" Hera spoke first.

Kanan gave a smile, but his face was grim and occupied.

"Hi, sorry this is last minute, but I need to ask you a favor."

Zeb and Hera exchanged glances again. Hera looked to Kanan.

"Why don't you come inside," she invited.

They ended up sitting around the table in the common area of the Ghost, Zeb and Hera sitting across from Kanan. The two were eyeing him with interest and curiosity but were patiently waiting for him to speak.

"Look, I know you guys haven't known me long, and I haven't known you two very long either," Kanan started.

"Ya got that right," Zeb muttered.

Hera shot him a reprimanding glance before turning to Kanan to prompt him to continue.

"But, I think I can trust you, or at least I can trust how much you two don't like the Empire."

Kanan paused.

"Do you two know about the Force?"

Hera and Zeb both blinked in confusion, taken aback at the sudden change in topic. Then, recent events came to mind and they both exchanged another look.

"We know enough," Hera answered for them.

"Okay, do you know the term force-sensitive?" Kanan asked.

The room became tense at the word.

"Yes," Hera replied, tone hesitant, "they're hunted down by the Imperials."

"Then I'm hoping you'll understand why I came to you, I found a force-sensitive child."

Hera let out a gasp, and Zeb leaned forward.

"He's been in an Imperial cell, I saw him get picked up, he levitated stuff and the Imperials took him, I can get him out, but once I do I can't keep him," Kanan explained, "if he stays with the Empire, I'm afraid of what they'll do to him, I just need to get him somewhere safe."

Kanan felt some guilt for lying, but at this point, he'd lied so much it seemed a little thing to do for the safety of another. Lying to Hera though sent a prick of guilt through him which lingered longer than most.

It was silent, and Kanan could see the cogs turning, knew that they were deliberating and weighing how much they could trust him and just how much they were willing to risk. It seemed they were willing to risk it all.

"Okay," Hera said, "you get him here, we'll help him."

Kanan gave a relieved nod. He'd known Hera was a good woman, a better person than he'd ever be.

"I can bring him tonight, just, be waiting," Kanan said, standing up.

Hera and Zeb showed him out and when the doors rose, Zeb looked in worry at Hera.

"What if he's lying?" Zeb asked.

"We're just going to have to take that risk."

Kanan knew that releasing the boy would be easy, in fact, it would look weirder if he kept him locked up since the kid had no value. But making sure the boy got where he needed to be would be harder. It was one thing letting guards escort your prisoner out another to try to do it yourself.

Getting back to the base, he was making his way to Interrogations, intent on having guards show the boy out. He could then slip back out and meet the boy, taking him to the ship would be relatively easy after that.

"Sir."

Kanan halted, so in his own head he had barely realized someone was talking to him. It was a cadet.

"I have a message for you, sir," the teenager said, offering out a data pad.

Kanan took it in a daze, he needed to get Ezra out, his duties as an Imperial came second.

Holding the data pad up he entered his information and code so he could have access. It was a message from Oamuys. It was relatively short and to the point, she wanted a meeting with him tomorrow morning. It didn't say why and Kanan felt a roll of unease. Summonings weren't necessarily a bad thing, they were often routine, but this one he wasn't so sure about.

"Thank you, cadet," Kanan said, handing the data pad back to the teenager.

He dismissed the cadet and continued on his way. Whatever was brewing, it could wait. Arriving at Interrogations, Kanan saw Linch. He hailed the man and put in the necessary order, strongly suggesting that it should be done by today. Linch, still terrified of Kanan, scrambled to get it done. Kanan, satisfied that it would actually be done headed out.

Prisoner release was a two-fold process. Most prisoners were shipped off, used for hard labor whether or not they had committed a crime. But you couldn't ship everybody away to prison and releases were made, usually of very minor violations, or if someone had information, and every so often someone who deserved freedom was granted it by someone in the Empire who actually had a heart. The Imperial system was not impervious to human nature and such errs, though not as often as they should have been, still occurred.

Release from Lothal's central holding cells dumped people off at the public health and welfare building run by Imperials. This is where Kanan went, dressed in his civilian garb. Time passed slowly, and Kanan felt tense. What if Linch didn't release the boy? Or what if Hooge managed to butt in again?

A transport pulled up, and Kanan watched two soldiers drag the boy out. Ezra was set on a bench rather ungracefully, and the soldiers left. The boy sat there and Kanan hesitated approaching, almost unconsciously he probed out with the force. There was still so much pain, but it was clouded over with fear and worry and despair. Kanan was regretting not informing the boy of his plan, but he hadn't had time.

"Hey," Kanan called, nearing the bench.

Ezra's head snapped up and the ten year old stared at him in shock and surprise.

"What are you doing here?"

"I got you out, now I'm getting you somewhere safe," Kanan explained, glancing around.

The less he was seen in public with the boy, the better.

"What do you mean? Why?" Ezra asked.

Kanan could feel the confusion and fear, he wished it wasn't there, but he hadn't spent a life time wishing things were not so to waste any more time doing so.

"I'll explain on the way, now let's go," Kanan said, gesturing to the kid to get up.

The boy didn't budge and a strange look passed over his face.

"I can't," Ezra replied.

Kanan raised a brow.

"My legs, I can feel them but, I can't walk," Ezra reluctantly admitted.

Kanan immediately felt guilty, he shoved it down though and gestured to the boy again. The boy hesitated before reaching forward and slinging his arms around Kanan's neck, Kanan lifted him and soon they were on their way down the street, the duo of a piggy back ride.

"You said you'd answer my questions," Ezra spoke.

Kanan gave a nod. Tonight was a night for public transport, they could catch a shuttle which would drop them off relatively near the market and then Kanan could walk the rest of the way to Hera's ship.

"You're right," Kanan responded, stepping aboard the shuttle, which had just stopped, and paying the driver.

They settled at the back, where it was empty.

"Why?"

"I don't know," Kanan replied honestly, "it puts me in a Hell of a position with my job, I suppose I have a thing for force users."

"Because you are one?" Ezra asked.

Kanan glanced at the boy, considering him.

"Yeah, because I am one."

Ezra was silent.

"I do have a favor to ask of you, you can agree to it or not, but it would be helping me out. The people I'm taking you to-"

"Who?" Ezra interrupted.

Kanan sent the boy a peevish look, Ezra just stared back obdurately.

"Sympathizers, their names are Hera and Zeb, they don't like the Empire and they'll get you somewhere safe. I think you'll like Hera," Kanan explained, "but they don't know about my, well, my job."

"Why not?"

Kanan shuffled in his seat, casting his eyes about the bus to take in the occupants, a method of delaying his answer so he could gather his thoughts.

"It's dangerous to tell people."

Ezra narrowed his eyes.

"Why tell me?"

Kanan looked at the boy with amusement.

"I didn't exactly get a choice."

Ezra gave a nod, accepting the explanation. It was silent for a while, the shuttle stopping and going. Kanan started to zone out so he was surprised by the little push he felt in the force. Looking over he saw the boy staring at the floor deep in thought, brows knit in thought.

"You alright, kid?"

Ezra snapped out of his daze and blinked, blue eyes round and innocent.

"Yeah, m'okay," he mumbled.

Kanan knew the boy was hurting, Kanan also knew that he hadn't had an interaction with a force user in many years, but he didn't remember any, other than his and Billaba's, ever being so intuitive. He watched the boy fall back into thought. Something was tugging at him, things were going to change soon. Kanan shook his head, turning away and letting the thoughts slip from his mind.