Krea, age 17, sat huddled on a bench in the common room aboard the Rebel ship Ghost. Throughout the ship, she could hear her new friends going about their daily routines. Sabine was adding a new painting to her collection. Ezra and Zeb were teasing each other. Hera was flying the ship to who-knows-where, and Kanan was being pestered by Chopper, their droid. They're like family... the girl though nostalgically. I wonder what my family's up to? The girl wrapped her long, reptilian tail and leathery, bat-like wings around her, her wild amber hair barely hiding her horns. Krea was not from this Galaxy. She'd fallen through a wormhole from her world, Wonderland, and wound up in the crossfire between the Rebels and a pack of Storm Troopers. When she'd opted to use her powers as a Jabberwocky to combat the Troopers, the Rebels offered to repay her by helping her find her way home.
It wasn't all flowers and sunshine. She had to adjust to the fact that weather changed constantly on the different planets in the Galactic Empire. Also, time followed different rules here. Day, evening, night. Day, evening, night. Everyday, it was the same with no variation. So boring! People were living in dull misery and constant fear of the Imperials everywhere she went. It was awful! Krea thus swore to herself that she would help out however she could until she had to go home.
If she ever got home. It had been almost a month since she first boarded, and still, they couldn't find a way to send her back to Wonderland. But Krea was still hopeful. The hope of seeing her family and friends again was pretty much what kept her going. The only thing that kept her off the path of the Dark Side. She was a Jabberwocky, a kind of dragon, after all. Her family's creed was "I am Fire. I am... Death." And as a Jabberwocky, she had a fiery temper and easily angered. But though she knew the Empire might be able to get her home faster, she knew it would come at a price. They'd probably force her to fight her Rebel friends, or even kill them! These people weren't like her. If she died, her clock could be fixed, and she could be replaced. If they died, their hearts would stop forever, and they had no replacements. There was no way she'd ever hurt them. She'd rather die.
"Krea, you wanna help us on our next supply run?" Ezra asked. Ezra was a young man two years younger than her, with blue-black hair and startling blue eyes like living sapphires. He was kinda cocky and cynical, but he tried to keep an optimistic view for her. Krea blinked her amber eyes. "Sure!" she said, un-cocooning herself. She loved being off the ship, in the open, where she could stretch her wings and fly. she'd been stuck on that Ghost for 48 hours, and her wings were getting stiff. "Where are we gong this time?"
"The outskirts of Tarkin Town," Kanan said. "Visago sad he wanted to meet the scary dragon lady he'd heard so much about over the Holonet."
"Oh, okay," Krea said. "But if he tries anything stupid, he'd gonna have to face the business end of my talons."
Not a promising outlook for everyone's favorite black market dealer, eh? Let's see what happens when Agent Kalus and his troop of Bucket Heads shows up!