SABEZRA WEEK: Day 5 (Nov 21): Under Cover
*Ezra and Sabine must infiltrate an establishment frequented by an imperial garrison to meet with a rebel contact. Their cover identities lead to them seeing all new sides of each other.
“Yes, you’ve made that abundantly clear for the eighth time.”
“Easy for you to say, you don’t have to wear this.”
Of the missions Ezra had taken on for the Rebellion, he had been shot at, stabbed, blown up, thrown from great heights, and placed in all matter of situations sane people may find undesirable. Yet he could not recall being called to do anything as mind-numbingly absurd as what he was about to do here. Down on the planet B-bel, the local rebel cell had been accumulating a considerable amount of intelligence concerning the Empire’s operations in the sector. Ezra and Sabine were to meet up with their contact, obtain their collected data, and slip out without attracting attention. All simple and to the point.
If not for the formal wear.
For reasons known only to the Force, the only place that could be found for a reliable rendezvous was at the Milandes Hall, a high-end nightclub frequently patroned by the Imperial top brass. As such, the only way Ezra and Sabine would be able to meet up with their contact would be to go undercover as guests of the establishment on the night of a banquet held for the visiting Moff. Which meant, to Ezra’s absolute chagrin, he would have to conform to a very strict dress code.
Commander Sato had been kind enough to lend him one of his suits from his younger years (apparently Mykapo defense force officers were infamous for taking advantage of the chance to not wear their dress uniforms when they were not required), though Ezra found the definition of “kind” to be stretched. The tunic and trousers felt gaudy to him, the polished boots seemed determined to crush his feet into a single mangled toe, and the spavat wrapped around his neck felt it was one light tug away from strangling him. Looking at himself in the mirror, Ezra thought he looked more like a dandy rich boy than a Jedi knight.
And that was all without getting into the fact that their cover had placed a whole hive of butterflies in his stomach. Him and Sabine? Dressed in fancy clothes and going to a party? The initial suggestion had made him spit out his caf. He would have gladly passed this task on to Kanan and Hera, at least they would be more comfortable thrown into all this. Sadly, Imperial rule on B-bel had made anti-alien segregation commonplace and no amount of cosmetic detailing would make Hera pass as a human long enough to fool anyone. Add on Kanan being more likely to step on Hera’s toes even if he could still see, and that left the two of them.
“Look,” Kanan said, “if all goes well, you two will be in and out and you can get out of the monkey-lizard suit.
Ezra laughed as he adjusted his cuffs. “Given our track record with ‘all goes well’…”
“That’s what your little friend is for.”
Ezra nodded and triggered the device on his arm with a twitch of his wrist. A tiny holdout blaster slid down the sleeve and into his palm. Better safe than sorry, especially when going into the rancor’s den.
Before the conversation could continue, the sound of a similar discussion from outside Kanan’s cabin could be heard.
“At least be happy that the skirt breaks away for emergencies.”
“I’d be happier with some actual shoes. Look at these, you could kill someone with these!”
“I would’ve thought that would appeal to you.”
“I meant the one wearing them!”
Ezra shook his head with a smirk as he made for the door. “Well, at least I’m not alone in this. Even Sabine agrees with-“
His voice trailed away as he looked into the hall and caught sight of Sabine… or at least who he thought was Sabine. She was almost unrecognizable. Instead of her bodysuit and armor, she was garbed in a floor-length gown of vivid purple with a stripe of midnight blue down the center. Magenta gloves reached to her elbows while an orange sash was tied around her waist. A silk veil hung around her arms and back, while her feet were concealed in blue high-heeled shoes. Her hair was dyed to a darker shade of purple, with several similarly-colored extensions to make it appear much longer than she would have otherwise kept it, flowing like a curtain of wine. Even more surprising, she was wearing makeup, her lips coated in vibrant red gloss.
Ezra must have been gawking, since Sabine looked at him with a questioning look in her brown eyes. Her lips moved, but the sound was muted. His ears weren’t working, his brain was malfunctioning as he took in what he saw. He’d thought Sabine was pretty since they first met, and even when his schoolboy crush wore off he couldn’t deny that she was incredibly attractive. Yet he had never seen her like this. He had never even considered her wearing this. Any other day he would argue till blue in the face that she didn’t need such trappings to appear beautiful, yet now that she was-
“Hello? Ground to Ezra, anyone home?”
Ezra blinked. He realized what he was doing, and his face began to get uncomfortably hot. “Oh, uh, yeah I-I’m fine, it’s just-“
“Okay, before anyone starts complaining about their outfit again,” Hera cut in, thankfully saving Ezra from potentially digging his own grave with a stupid remark, “your shuttle will be leaving in a few minutes. Get in, get out, signal for pickup.”
“Right,” said Ezra, tugging on his spavat a little, “Let’s go.”
It only took a few looks around the ballroom for Ezra to decide that events like these should be listed among the Empire’s crimes for their sheer excess. Hundreds of men and women (all human or very near-human, naturally), milling about an elaborately decorated hall dressed in everything from Imperial uniforms to finery that made his and Sabine’s look tame. Copious amounts of drink and food across the tables, music reverberating throughout the building, a dance floor of polished wroshyr wood filled with people performing the most elegant numbers from the Core. To the casual observer, it was the peak of high society. To an impoverished street urchain, it was the height of vain flaunting. And to Ezra, peering through the Force, this was the embodiment of vanity. He could feel the unspoken envy radiating from all these people, flaunting their opulence so as to make others covet their wealth and power. These were the people who reaped the benefits of all the supposed progress brought to worlds like Lothal, all so they could indulge themselves.
The only think keeping him focused on the mission was the one beacon of relief in the room. Sabine stayed by his side, arm looped in his own to complete the look they were going for. Sensing her, her inner strength and humility, a beauty that had nothing to do with the fancy clothes, kept him grounded, reminding him that there was always some light beyond the darkness around them. Still, that brought about their own set of nerves. Part of their cover was to give off the nervous energy of a first timer to these events, signaling their contact to come in for help. And given his proximity to Sabine and the event they were at, a good deal of those nerves weren’t acting.
The two made their way inside the Milandes and waited on line behind some other new arrivals, all to pay their respects to their host. The rotund Imperial governor heartily greeted each guest, and amicability that could almost make one forget that he was turning this planet into a polluted waste to line his coffers. Still, Ezra suppressed the urge to vomit as he and Sabine approached and gave a low, somewhat jerky bow.
“Moff Vitchy,” Ezra said with a touch of formality to his voice, “I am Jhozef Speriit of Wraith Enterprises, and this is Miss Finne Soole. Thank you for having us tonight.”
“Ah, yes Count Speriit,” Vitchy warmly remarked, extending a hand for Ezra to shake, “so good to see young blood out here.”
“Yes,” Ezra accepted the hand, shaking it with a little more jitter than needed and accenting a sense of uncomfortability with a cough. “You’ll have to forgive me if I do anything improper, I have had little experience with these events.”
“No harm at all,” laughed the Moff, “everyone gets their feet wet eventually. Plus, if you attend as many of these as I have, you settle in rather well. We are all the Empire after all.”
“Yes,” Ezra lightly laughed, “yes of course. Still, I would hate to spoil the evening by doing anything too off-footed.”
A rich, alluring voice came next to them. Turning, Ezra saw a graceful woman approaching them. She was tall and elegant, with tanned skin and heterochromatic eyes, the left gold and the right blue. She wore her brown hair in a but adorned with a gold headpiece, and her white dress moved as fluidly as liquid as she glided over to them. At first he thought she was human, but then he noticed a pair of barely-visible horns jutting out from her head.
Vitchy broke out in a laugh. “Ah, Loi’e! I almost didn’t see you there!” He reached out and kissed the woman’s outstretched hand before turning back to Ezra and Sabine. “Count Speriit, this is Loi’e Cachette. She runs a cabaret here in the city, and a welcome guest any function of mine. You must see her perform before you leave town, I insist!”
Ezra nodded graciously, then felt a light squeeze from Sabine. She picked up on it, too. Even beyond the established cues, Loi’e was unique among the patrons. Where they wore their elegance as a means to flaunt and elicit envy, hers was a natural, genuine, earnest grace, one that she wore simply because it was who she was.
‘Kinda like Sabine in her armor’
Loi’e giggled a bit before turning back to their host. “thank you for that introduction, Vitchy. If Count Speriit needs a rundown on the proper way to mingle, I’d be more than happy to show him and Miss Soole some pointers.”
A short while later, the three of them were sequestered away in a booth near the back, reserved for Loi’e and her entourage whenever they visited. Under the guise of the canopy, small strips of fabric containing details on Imperial operations in the sector were lightly stitched on the insides of Ezra’s tunic and Sabine’s sashes.
“They must be soaked in an alcohol solution to be legible,” Loi’e explained in a hushed tone. “Once revealed, the message will dissolve, so you must wait until you can securely record it.”
“Right,” Sabine said, adjusting the silk in her arms, “this will be of great help. Thank you.”
Loi’e nodded graciously. “Now, let us see about maneuvering you out.”
“Alright,” nodded “we’ll get to the back door and-“
“I’m afraid there’s only one way to get to the platform in question.”
The dancer gestured behind her. The doorway in question was on the opposite side of the dance floor, which was filling up with people as the ball neared the opening of its main event.
Ezra blushed. “Wait, what? That wasn’t- I can’t-”
“You must hide in plain sight,” Loi’e explained, “simply walking away will rouse suspicion.”
“Yeah, but- well,” Ezra stammered, “I can’t dance. Not like this.”
Loi’e let out a light laugh that just made Ezra even more embarrassed. “I did tell Vitchy I would help you two. And what better way to learn than by doing?”
“Come on, Jhozef,” Sabine cut in, pulling on his arm, “let’s just get this over with so we can get out of this deathtrap.”
Ezra vaguely heard Loi’e giving advice about watching what she did and focusing on the music, but his mind was racing. This wasn’t the plan. How would their mission work if he just flailed around out there. Sure, there had been a few local hops he had gone to as a kid with his parents, but this was a different animal altogether. And with Sabine of all people! He was sure he’d wreck Sato’s suit just by sweating through it.
Soon they were on the floor, Ezra feeling supremely awkward with one hand on Sabine’s waist and the other holding hers. Just then, he felt a tug on his chin. He looked up to see Sabine looking right at him, her eyes focused yet strangely soft. “Hey, relax,” she whispered. “just go with the flow, do what everyone else is doing, and we’ll be fine.”
Go with the flow. Something clicked in his head. Something from one of his earliest lessons with Kanan. “Feel, don’t think. Move with the galaxy, not just jumping around it.”
Was he seriously turning ballroom dancing into a Jedi lesson? Then he heard the band string up and looked back into Sabine’s face.
He let the Force fill his perceptions. The opulence of the hall bled away until there was only himself and Sabine. The music began, and as the notes flowed, he allowed them to direct him. He moved in tandem with it, weaving and gliding in concert with what he was feeling. But that wasn’t all he focused on. He also looked upon his partner, herself doing much the same as they moved about the floor. Then he saw something he hadn’t noticed before. He had been so distracted by her outfit and appearance, he hadn’t taken stock of the real Sabine. The high-flying explosive warrior, whose art reflected her passion and courage, who was kind and self-sacrificing as much as she was fierce and proud. Who also moved in tandem with the music, but in a manner of a bold and daring pathfinder, striding out to confront any challenge with the goal of seeing it through to the end. For her mission, her friends, her family, hard and soft and cool and warm rolled into one.
She was beautiful. And it had nothing to do with the silken dress.
When the music finally stopped, Ezra returned to the mundane world. He was holding Sabine in a low dip, and she was breathless as they stood there. She looked surprised, but also exhilarated, her smile as warm as a Lothal morning.
“I thought you said you couldn’t dance.”
Ezra laughed lightly. “Guess I’m a fast learner.”
Sabine let out her own laugh and pulled herself up.
“Still,” he mused, “would’ve been nice to see you like this in your real look. Armor and all.”
Sabine threw her extended hair back and grinned. “Maybe you will?”
Ezra nodded as the music began to swell again, moving to another dance, one more step towards their exit, and another exercise in feeling the true Sabine shine through.
They were getting this intel back and decrypted, but that was far from the only thing he had to look forward to.
