Midnight Moon ☽ Sabine Wren [Star Wars Rebels]

xii.

Chapter Twelve;

Unease settled in Soleil's stomach the minute their crew of three left hyperspace.

Garel stared at her: her former home. The planet she was most knowledgeable about in the entire universe – and the one she had never wanted to lay eyes on again.

Yet she was in the system, staring at the planet whose air she'd breathed for near sixteen years. Her homeplanet. Her prison.

A chill went down Soleil's spine as she took in the sight of the purple sphere. She wrapped her fingers around the back of Kanan's pilot chair, clenching it in a grip so tight her knuckles turned white.

"Something's not right," she whispered.

Kanan frowned. "I feel it too."

Beside her, Ezra nodded in agreement.

The Phantom swooped down to the planet's surface. The spaceport planet appeared as it always had done: ships flying in and out, people bustling in the streets, lights saturating the air to the point they drowned out the stars.

Yet... something felt off. Soleil couldn't quite put her finger on it, but it made her nervous.

They landed in an isolated spaceport and strode outside, trying to appear as casual as possible, as though they belonged there. Yet they had to take precautions, and agreed to walk in a file.

"I'll go up front," Kanan instructed. "Ezra, you've got the rear. Soleil, stay between us."

Ezra saluted. "Got it."

Soleil nodded. Her hand lowered to feel Kanan's blaster, once more strapped to her leg. She knew why she was in the middle: she was the least experienced. Hopefully the position would allow Kanan and Ezra to protect her.

Frustration pulsed through her. Soleil didn't want to be protected. She wanted to be an equal, able to stand on her own two feet in battle and fire squarely back.

Yet that wouldn't happen until she managed to fit some training in, and free time hadn't readily been available to her just get.

The trio strolled through Garel. The people milling around the markets didn't give them a second look when they passed. They were used to strangers coming and going, after all, since Garel was a spaceport above all things.

Everything went smoothly, until they approached Soleil's home.

The sight of the place that had been like a prison to her made Soleil's blood turn cold. Panic seized her, and she felt like she'd stepped into an icy bath.

She didn't want to ever return. She'd left so she never had to step foot inside that place again – yet, she was here.

From behind her, Ezra took her hand. "Breathe," he advised. "You're okay, Soleil."

Soleil did as he said. She still didn't like being so close to the house, but she was able to think clearly and move without problems. And those were the two most important things.

The outskirts were patrolled by a handful of Stormtroopers. Citizens meandered about on either side. If the Stormtroopers didn't see them, the people would, and it would only be a matter of time before someone pointed out to the Troopers that a group of three people were trying to sneak into private property.

But Soleil had experience sneaking in and out of her home, and knew exactly what to do.

"We won't run into so many people if we go around the back," she informed the others. "There's a convenient tree I used to climb to get on top of the wall."