Hello! Before anything, I'd like to point out this is my first fanfiction, so my wording may be a bit awkward, or a bit out of sorts. Never really was the type to be good at getting into things, ya'know? If there's something incorrect or flat-out wrong, a simple correction over a flaming comment would be highly appreciated, if that isn't too much to ask. I'd like to thank ya'll for at the very least, clicking on this to read it. It's a start, yeah?

Anyway, I got distracted; this'll probably run on, since it's more for a stress reliever. Some things might not be on-point accurate, since I'm not doing extensive research like I kind of want to. Also; it's three am. Thirty five, to be more specific, so you know it's gonna be good.

So, a Star Wars: Rebels fanfiction. Fun, innit? A sickness one, as much as an enjoyable cliché as it is. It's a shame there aren't more out there; or, I'm not looking in the correct places. Either way, they're both a damn shame.

I hope ya'll like this, for the small and most likely short chapter this'll be. It's honestly just an opening

[Heads up; this is before the events of Malachor]

You aren't supposed to get sick during a supply run.

A day ago- or, was it more? Was it less? Ezra couldn't really tell- Hera had sent Zeb and Ezra off to do a quick supply run on a relatively new planet to their knowledge. It was an.. Off planet, with warm days and nights that wouldn't hesitate to give you hypothermia if not careful. It was on the outskirts of a pretty dead system, as to why the Empire had not overtaken the planet.

Pirates and illegal merchants had found their way to the haven of a planet, and set up a trading post near a town. For the bastardous founders, the community was pretty decent compared to them. The rebellion took note of this, and when the Ghost crew ran out of supplies on a supposedly-quick mission? That was their to-go place. They weren't disappointed, either.

They had landed to the outskirts of the Romsey, the town's unofficial name. The grass was a dulled shade of green, almost neon flowers openly pointed towards the sun. Two moons sat side-by-side, the orange sun about an hour away from the horizon. The contrast of it all was quite appealing; but they weren't there to gawk at the scenery. They had to grab the supplies and leave as quickly as they could.

The ghost's dock has opened, with Kanan, Ezra, and Zeb walking down it. Hera was perched atop the bridge, looking down wearily at the new surroundings. Her thin lips were in a minor frown, as she glanced at the jedi. "Kanan," She started, her eyes rimming over the other two before finally settling on the distant civilization. "I want you all back before sundown. The nights get extremely cold, and we don't have the clothing to withstand it. Chopper and I will be working on the Ghost, Sabine has wanted to.. Make a few 'upgrades'." Her voice lingered at upgrades, before taking a sigh and glancing behind her at a grinning mandalorian.

Ezra let out a small snort, a friendly smirk running along his face, before muttering, "Trigger-happy."

Zeb armed the padawan, not hard enough to hurt him, but enough to let him know he heard him. Ignoring the kid's revenge-punches, he looked back up at Hera. "Yeah, alright. I'll make sure they're both back."

Hera glared at the two, before turning a bit to go back inside the Ghost. "You two- stay out of trouble," Was all she had to say. She shuffled back inside, Chopper closing the bridge. It shut with a off click, and that was their sign to hurry on their way.

Kanan was the first to turn, motioning the other two to do the same. Previously silent, he began to break the silence. "This is a town of pirates and thieves," He said, his green eyes shooting glares at the open-village in the distance. It wasn't that far away, now especially since they started walking towards it. "Be careful not to be pickpocketed." His voice held a hint of remembrance, and Ezra could sense a feeling of discomfort and distrust towards the trade posts. It was a subtle feeling, though, as Kanan was trying his best to shove the emotion away.

Zeb was in front of the other two when they had almost arrived. For the silent walk, he spoke up. His eyes grazed the position of the sun, and a strained sigh accented his rough voice. "Karabast. We don't have much time." He looked back at the maze of crowds and stands, other ships parked on the edge of it all. People were running around, shoving each other, talking, laughing, or fighting about prices. Mostly the latter. It was a hub for people of all backgrounds- it was pretty obvious. "Kanan, we should split up. Ezra goes with you, I'll grab all the mechanicals."

The dark-haired boy looked at the crowd, his hand brushing over the lightsaber tucked away at his waist for a calm sense. It wasn't an aggressive motion, but the feeling of his lightsaber always did bring him a bit of comfort, even in the strangest of scenarios. Who knows who's in the crowd, right?

Kanan looked up at the taller male, before glancing back once again. "Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. Ezra-" He motioned for him to follow, and the trio split up.

I went well, extremely well, actually; nobody got pickpocketed, run out of a sale, none of the sorts. It only started to go downhill nearing sundown. A chill was in the air, and everyone knew it; The crowds got denser, trying to get everything before nightfall. Unfortunately, Ezra had gotten stuck in that density, and separated from the others.

Ezra was following Kanan, talking to him about random things; Sabine's latest artwork, lothcats, the strangest planets they've been to- and after a laugh at a joke Kanan cracked, a band of people was wedged between them. Not fearing much, Ezra headed in the direction Kanan originally was heading with him. The problem was- a few minutes of trying to catch up to his mentor, and he reached the barren edge of the posts. That's when he started worrying.

The dark-haired boy had attempted to contact Kanan via the Force, somehow, but ended up getting overwhelmed with all the force signatures in the area. It was similar to social anxiety, as Ezra tried to move through the crowd. He obviously did not want to be there, in a ocean of people and on a time limit. Almost fortunately, the crowd was thinning out not too soon after; but the temperature was dropping.

Of course, Ezra did run back into Kanan and Zeb. It was almost dark, and was uncomfortably cold, so they had to hurry back to the Ghost. Kanan was asking where he had been, not in an angered tone, though, and Zeb was lightly teasing him. It was nightfall just when they reached the Ghost, to a worried Hera and an annoyed Chopper, who would not stop trying to taze them for being late.

Well; that's all good and dandy, until the next day, when Ezra has realized he was sick.