It's been OVER A YEAR since I last updated? Jeez, I can't wrap my mind around that.
For those who have kept up or have continued reading my stories, I apologize for the abrupt disappearance. This last year has been chaotic, and so much has occurred that I still can't wrap my mind around most of it. I am now engaged to the love of my life (I get chills just typing this out. Still can't believe it after all these months), I'm in my senior year of college, and my brother is in the hospital and possibly will never be able to walk without assistance again. As a result many things I have enjoyed have been set on the wayside, including fanfiction writing.
Will I be able to continue this again? To be honest, I don't know. If I do continue writing fanfiction, it certainly won't be as often as I used to, and new content will be farther between. But I do miss writing, especially for Rebels, and if I get more opportunities I would like to start publishing them again. But for now, I'm just publishing a small drabble that, considering most of this was written on a whim, I am quite proud of. Like any of my stories, if you see anything that can be improved upon, or any criticism please let me know.
Ezra shifted slowly. The firm mattress, despite his best attempts, seemed to dig underneath his ribs and reawaken several bruises he would have otherwise forgotten about. He closed his eyes, and curled up underneath the thermal blanket that Hera had given him earlier. She had appeared at the doorway of Zeb's-his-cabin, and had dropped the bundle into his arms.
"Not much, but it'll do until we can make it to the next trading station," she had said. "Still it's better than nothing." Her eyes were soft, and Ezra had quickly turned away with a mumbled thanks. There was something in her eyes that he couldn't discern, and the thought of what it could be placed a boulder in his stomach, and a rock in his throat.
Whatever Extra had expected during his first night on the Ghost, what he had experienced hadn't been it. The crew had simply went about their lives, bickering over nutri-bars, and discussing possible upcoming missions and plans for the next day. None of them had seemed phased over the wide-eyed boy watching them, sometimes even inviting him into the conversation. As though he had always lived with them.
Ezra stared up the ceiling. Underneath him he could hear Zeb shuffling, snoring in his deep sleep. Ezra silently blamed his own lack of on the rumbling sound emitting from the lasat's throat. He curled on his side and pulled the fleece back over his head. Not even the thick fabric could snuff out the thick breaths that vibrated gently in the recycled air that Ezra swore tasted like metal on his tongue.
Finally Extra threw back the cover. He scaled the ladder swiftly and was out of the room in a breaths space. If he couldn't sleep, might as well investigate this new environment that he (hopefully) would be abiding for a long time.
Ezra, after a short time of exploration, had to admit the Ghost's setup was well done. The ship's anterior had been designed for efficiency. Other than blankets there was very little fabric, normally plastic or metal material that could be wiped quickly. Even the kitchen was stocked with food that could be eaten straight out of their moisture-resistant packaging or were in the instant meal containers that were common in the rest of the Galaxy minus Lothal where food was primarily fresh. For what he had pegged for as a small mismatched team, they were well-prepared.
One closest Ezra opened was filled with strange outfits. He blinked, than reached out a hand. The fabric was well padded and insulated, with a metallic sheen. He pulled it off the rack and held it up. The collar was made a lightweight material that Ezra couldn't identify. Despite its lightweight quality the suit felt dense within his hands. He bit the inside of his cheek. He could tell that this suit-whatever it was-would have sold for quite a bit on Lothal's black market.
"Well, well, and what are you?" He muttered softly. He didn't expect his question to be answered out loud.
"A space suit. What did you think it was, a strait-jacket?
Ezra flipped around. Sabine leaned against the wall. She was still wearing her armor, Clutched in her fingers was a mug with steam curling around the rim before evaporating into the air. She was frowning.
"What, no…." Ezra fumbled with the rack. "I knew what it was, just admiring it. You don't see too many with this quality on Lothal." He shut the door with a soft hiss. He grinned, leaning against a closed door.
If she believed the lie she didn't acknowledge it. Her eyebrows pinched together in a look that Ezra just knew she had picked up from Kanan, and its intent was clear. "You should be following the same sleep cycle as everyone else."
"You're not." He pointed out. She rolled her eyes.
"I was heading that way before I saw a kid exploring things he shouldn't." She said.
"Hey I got bored. And it's hard to sleep with that smelly bag of wet hair." He gestured a hand to the door straight across from them. "And I'm not a kid," he added.
"You will be until you prove yourself." She took a sip. The warm liquid coated her tongue and throat. "And that 'smelly bag' is my crew mate. And now yours. Bet you won't be saying when he yanks you from certain death." She snorted, than cringed. Ezra's face had shifted into a grimace. His mouth was tight, his eyes reflecting on something she couldn't see across her shoulder. But within a moment he shrugged. The charsmaritic grin had returned. She blinked. If she hadn't been watching him, she would have doubted that his brief moment had occurred at all.
"I'll keep that in mind." He said, and tossed a salute in her direction.
She bit her lip, scrutinizing him. Ezra lifted his chin, and straightened his back, even as he leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms casually. Too casually. She didn't know whether to stifle a grin or roll her eyes. Ezra reminded her of some of the recruits back at the Academy, the ones who would stumble over themselves to prove themselves to the commander to have at least one shot, just one chance to prove themselves.
It was with a small start she remembered that she used to be one of them.
She looked at blue eyes, now beginning to cloud over with exhaustion, and sighed. "Hang on." She handed him her mug and disappeared into her room. Ezra raised a eyebrow. He looked into the mug. The 'drink' was thick and frothy, and the color of Lothal's soil during a drought. It looked unappealing to his senses, but if Sabine liked it maybe he should give it a shot.
Before he could lift it to his lips for a sip she was back. She took the cup from him, and tossed him a small cloth bag.
"I can't help the smell, but that'll help with the sound at least." She glanced down and, relieved to see that her beverage had not been tampered with in the short amount of time she was gone, took another sip of her drink.
Ezra blinked when he unwrapped the earplugs. "Thanks." He glanced up. The grin had returned. "So, we friends?"
"Whatever kid." She leaned over as though to tap his arm. Just before contact she reached down she hesitated, as though she was about to speak. Then she reached down next to him toward the control panel. Before Ezra knew what was happening the closest door hissed open, and he tumbled backwards. The suits closed in around him.
"Don't get used to it. You still got a lot ahead of you on this crew." She disappeared back into her cabinet, shutting the door behind her.
Ezra fumbled a few moments before shoving his way out of the closest. He stared at the brightly-colored door that signified her room. His face broke out in a large grin.
"I think I might like it here after all."