DISCLARMER: This is a blanket disclaimer, I will NOT be repeating it! So please pay attention! I don't own anything of 'Star Wars Rebels.' Not the names, places, characters, concept, nothing! They belong to the creators/writer/authors/ect which does not include me, sadly.
(Sort of) Extended summary/explanation: This is my take on a more realistic Ezra since I don't think a kid that has been on their own for 7/8 odd years would be as innocent as Ezra appears to be in the show. I also find it hard to believe that a kid that young could survive at all on their own, and in my story he doesn't. he has a little help in his early years, which will play a part in his backstory.
I do/will try to stay as close to cannon as possible but some deviation is necessary for the plot and there is a twist since I simply couldn't resist, but it should all make sense in the end so please be patient. If you have any questions wait a few chapters to see if they're answered, if they're not ask me and I'll try to answer them.
Italicized words = memories, visions, Force speak, voices heard over the com, and general emphasis.
Underlined words = alien/non 'Basic' language
Line breaks indicate changes in perspective, time lapses, scene changes, and the like.
Spark of Rebellion: Rebels vs. Street Rat
He lay on the ground, shaking and shivering from pain and cold. Blood dripped from several wounds, soaking his clothes and pooling beneath him. His breath came in short sharp gasps of pain.
"Help," he whimpered. "Please help me. I- I don't want to d-die!"
"You won't!" A voice cried. "I won't l-let you!"
The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth and he choked.
"Ezra!"
Hands tilted his head to the side and something brushed against his face, wiping away the blood. He blinked, tears blurring the world, and a pair of eyes filled with worry and panic slowly came into focus.
"Hold on, Ezra. I know it hurts, jus-just hold on!"
A warm hand brushed the hair from his face while another applied pressure to a wound, and he shook his head sluggishly.
"Dunnit hurt," he mumbled. "Jus' c-cold."
He shivered, or tried to. His whole body felt heavy, too heavy, for even that small movement. He didn't care anymore, he was too tired, and with the world was growing dark letting go felt so tempting.
"Ezra!" Something slapped against his face, hard, and he whimpered. "Stay awake, Ezra!"
"Tired," he croaked out, eyes closing. Everything was just so heavy and so cold.
"Ezra? Ezra! EZRAAAA!"
Electric blue eyes stared unseeing into the distance. They blinked and the far off city came back into focus. The boy sighed and looked down at the ground far below.
"I hate that dream," he muttered, running a hand through his shaggy, dark blue hair. Wind whistled overhead as a shadow fell over him and he glanced up. "Whoa, a star destroyer."
He grinned and made his way out of the abandoned tower, following after it. After all, messing with Imperials was always the perfect distraction.
It was only a few minutes after he reached the city that the perfect opportunity presented itself. He ducked into a nearby alley and watched as a group of Imperials harassed a street vendor.
"I remember what it was like before the Empire," the vendor complained. "Before you Imperials showed up and ruined Lothal like the rest of the galaxy."
"Che! Idiot," Ezra mumbled to himself, shaking his head as the furry Gounian* was arrested for 'treason.'
"You can't do this!" The man cried as stormtroopers started to drag him away.
"Who's going to stop us?" The fatter of the two officers asked mockingly, taking a bite out of the man's wares as he gestured to the milling crowd. "You? Or You?"
The people looked away.
'And that's my cue,' Ezra thought, pulling his trusty hat out of his pocket and tucking his hair underneath as he made his way over.
"Spare a jogan, sir?" Hands up, head down so they couldn't see his face, Ezra let the fat one shove him away and into the other officer.
"Sorry, sorry! Not looking for trouble." He stumbled away. "But it sure has a way of finding me."
He tossed the com device he'd swiped into the air, shaking his head. Really, sometimes it was just too easy. He slipped back into the alley and pressed the button on the side.
"All officers report to the main square. This is a code red emergency! All hands report in!"
The two officers and their accompanying troopers quickly dispersed, leaving the vendor behind in their haste.
"Stay on alert." Ezra walked up to the man still speaking into the device. "Repeat; this is a code red."
"Thank you," the jogan seller said, handing Ezra a fruit.
"No, thank you," Ezra replied, letting his voice fall back into its normal pitch and sweeping a few more jogans into his backpack.
"Wait, wait! What are you doing?" The vendor hissed angrily.
"Hey, a kid's gotta eat," Ezra answered smoothly, righting the Gounian's overturned basket and setting it beside the disgruntled alien. He slung his pack over his shoulders and darted away, climbing up onto a nearby building. The street vendor frowned after him.
"Who is that kid?"
Ezra crossed a couple roofs, stopping at one that over looked the main square. He grinned as he watched the two officers from before arrive and chuckled at the ensuing confusion.
"Almost feel bad for them. Almost." He tensed as a strange whistling rang in his ears. "That was weird. I-"
He jerked up as the whistling intensified, becoming more of a wordless call coming from. . . His eyes narrowed, focusing on a man standing at a cross road. He had dark, red-brown hair pulled into a small ponytail, armor along one arm, and a blaster strapped to his right hip. Over all, nothing remarkable about him except that he seemed to be what the. . . 'voice' wanted him to see.
The man twitched and Ezra ducked out of view as he spun in his direction. The man scanned the air Ezra's head had previously occupied before turning back. Ezra peaked over the edge and watched as the mysterious man paused beside a doorway and gave his holster a pat. The figure resting the door's shadow came alive and the large, purple furred alien moved to stand a few feet away.
The man moved and paused again, this time next to a clearly female figure wearing the most colorful armor Ezra had ever seen. The man gave his holster another pat, a gesture repeated by the female before she moved off.
"Interesting," Ezra whispered to himself. He'd seen gangs work before, and worked with a few, and knew all about the subtle signals and casual gestures that made up silent conversations between members. This, this was exactly like that. The only difference was, unlike most gangs in the city, he didn't know these people. He didn't even recognize them.
That almost worried him. As a street rat on his own he made it a point to know who to look out for, gang members and Imperials taking up most of his list. He shrugged his shoulders, if he didn't recognize them they were probably a new or mobile gang. Deciding it wasn't worth worrying about either way he settled back to watch.
The armored figure strolled casually past one of the parked speeder bikes and tossed a small something at it.
'What was that?' A loud explosion answered his silent question.
"Whoa!" He leaned forward, eager to see what would happen next.
"Get those crates out of here!" One of the officers yelled. "Keep them secure at all costs!"
"All costs, huh? I like the sound of that." Ezra took off with a grin; this day just kept getting better!
He skidded to a stop at the edge of a nearby building and watched as the stormtroopers hauling the crates were cut off by a land speeder driven by the man from before. His mouth fell open as the man launched himself at the nearest trooper, knocking him of his speeder bike and leaving him unconscious, before whipping out his blaster and engaging the others in a gun fight.
"Ok. . .Not thieves exactly," Ezra muttered, tugging his hat more firmly onto his head. "More like. . .vigilantes? Maybe?"
A movement out of the corner of his eye caused him to turn. The man's purple haired companion had arrived and proceeded to physically attack the troopers from behind. In a matter of minutes the troopers were down.
'My turn!' Ezra tugged the scarf around his neck up over his nose and jumped, landing on one of the speeder bikes.
"Thanks for doing the heavy lifting," he called as he backed the bike up and deftly dodged a swipe from the purple alien.
Reinforcements had arrived and he smashed his way through a couple troopers.
"Oops." He chuckled under his breath and sped off, ignoring the cries of pain and outrage behind him.
A thump sounded behind him and he glanced back, the move causing the scarf to loosen and revealing his face.
"Pretty gutsy move, kid," called the armor wearing, bomb thrower from before, clinging to the second crate.
"Tch!" He jerked on the steering, yanking the speeder from side to side in an attempt to lose the unwanted passenger. He glanced back only to find himself staring down the muzzle of a blaster pistol, but before he could react she lowered it, pointing it between the two crates.
"If the big guy catches you, he'll end you." She warned, firing a shot and separating the two crates. "Good luck!"
Ezra shrugged, one crate was better than none, and faced forward. He rounded a corner and gasped at the squad of troopers blocking the road. Blaster fire flew over his head and he yelped as return fire came from behind.
"Tish! Caught in crossfire!" Cursing softly, he lowered the power on the right side of the bike and jacked the power on the left. The sudden flux in power caused the bike to shoot to the right and the anti-grav stabilizers kicked in, grabbing hold of the wall and carrying him above the line of fire.
The trick only worked for a minute but it was enough time for the troopers to be downed and the fire to cease. It also gave Ezra the opportunity to see who had been trying to get him from behind, and he wasn't surprised to see it was the strange man and alien from before.
Electric blue eyes met green and, for a moment, Ezra heard that strange wordless whisper followed by a feeling of déjà vu. He blinked and the voice disappeared, but not the unsettling feeling of having seen this before.
Yanking the speeder into a sharp turn, he swerved violently to avoid hitting the crowd of people in front of him and twisted around a corner. Another glance back confirmed he still had a tail.
"Pretty persistent. Time to see just how badly you want this."
Ezra spun the speeder around and hit the accelerator, smirking at the shocked looks on his pursuers' faces as he sped toward them. A few feet before collision he jerked the bike to the right and disappeared into a side alley, laughing at the shouts of surprise and anger behind him.
"Alright, no more wasting time."
A few more turns and he reached the city limit, but the instant he sped through the gates a pair of troopers appeared and opened fire.
"Tch! I just can't get a break, can I?" Ezra moaned as he dodged left and right. He ducked and his eyes level with the controls. He grinned as an idea formed in his head.
"Well, ya know what they say," he said cheerfully as he yanked the bike into reverse and shot right between the two troopers. "You gotta fight fire with fire!"
He fired at their backs. He missed completely, but at least it wasn't him dodging blaster fire anymore. Movement off to the side and ever so slightly behind him caught his attention and he groaned. "Not you again!"
It was the people from before.
"Pull over, kid!" the man yelled. Up ahead the stormtroopers turned their bikes around and began firing on them.
"Little busy at the moment!" Ezra hollered back, slamming on the brakes and letting his two pursuers face the troopers.
As soon as their attention was diverted, Ezra punched the accelerator and jumped into the other lane which, despite traffic going in the opposite direction, was mercifully devoid of both stormtroopers and trigger happy vigilantes.
He soon by-passed the two men, ignoring the smoking remains of the troopers and once again caught the man's eye. The strange, wordless call rang in his ears and the feeling of déjà vu became almost overwhelming. He flinched and forced his eyes back onto the road, pressing the accelerator flat. He pulled ahead and let out a sigh of relief as the man fell behind.
The man frowned as the kid pulled ahead. The kid was good, very good, but he needed that crate. He gestured to his partner, Zeb, who rolled his eyes but gave a thumbs up and fell back. Once he had, the man released the crates and shot forward. Zeb slowed to a stop beside the drifting crates watching as his human accomplice sped off.
"If Kanan catches that kid," he growled, "I'm gonna end him."
Without the extra weight the man, Kanan, was able to overtake the kid and jump the barrier to the other lane, stopping a little ways in front of the would-be thief.
Ezra slammed on the brakes and jerked the steering around, skidding to a stop a foot from the man. He smacked the dash in frustration and tugged at his hat. "Who are you people?"
"I'm the guy who was stealing that crate."
"Hey look," Ezra began, crossing his arms and tugging at his scarf; there was no point putting it on now, not after the man had already seen his face. "I stole this. . .stuff fair and square."
"And you made it pretty far," the man told him. Ezra couldn't decide if that was meant as a compliment or a criticism. "But I've got plans for that crate, so today's not your day."
Ezra glanced up at an approaching TIE fighter and his lips twitched in a small smile.
"Mm, well day's not over yet," he replied, moving the speeder out of the path of the oncoming fire.
"Oh, wonderful," Kanan muttered as the sound of a TIE fighter engine reached him. He sprinted out of the way and dove to the ground as his stolen speeder bike exploded behind him. With a sigh Kanan stood up, brushing off the rubble, and turned to survey the damage.
The kid flew back into view.
"Have a good one!" he called, waving as he sped off. Behind him Kanan shook his head, an amused smile curling his lips for a moment, before reaching for the com on his belt.
"Spectre-1 to Ghost. I need a lift."
Ezra zipped off the entry road and made his way across the planes. At the sound of an engine overhead he looked up and groaned.
"Whatever's in this crate must really be worth it." He ducked to avoid the TIE's cannon fire. "Better be worth it!"
He jerked the bike into a series of sharp turns, but whoever was flying the TIE was a far better, or luckier, shot than his previous pursuers and managed to hit the front of the speeder bike. Ezra's eyes widened and without a shadow of a doubt he knew the bike was about to explode.
He jumped, much too high and much too far to be considered normal, but he didn't notice or care as the TIE circled back around.
"And there goes my good day," Ezra sighed, crouching low to the ground and preparing to evade like his life depended on it which, oddly enough, it did.
The sound of a blaster canon split the air and Ezra dove behind the crate, which against all odds had survived intact, as the TIE exploded in front of him. Safe from falling debris, Ezra spun in the direction the canon fire had come from.
Kanan stood on the bay door looking down at the kid and smirked.
"You want a ride?" he called down. The kid bit his lip and glanced around. "Kid, you got a better option? Come on!"
The kid glanced at him then at the crate.
"Leave the crate!" Kanan yelled as the kid started pushing it in his direction. "You'll never make it!"
The kid ignored him, activating the anti-grav and pushing it front of him as a shield against the incoming TIE's fire. Then he jumped, landing the crate on the edge of the bay doors, a good twenty feet above the ground.
"Whoa." Kanan's eyebrows rose in surprise; the kid was proving himself to be as impressive as he was troublesome.
"Don't bother helping or anything," Ezra grunted as he pulled himself up onto the bay door. The man ignored his sarcastic remark and moved to get the crate. Ezra glanced over the edge. "15? 20feet? With an oversized shoebox? Might be a new record."
Kanan gave the kid a sharp glance, if this was a normal thing for him. . . He gave his head a mental shake and passed Zeb the crate before turning and closing the bay door. Once that was done he glanced down at the kid, getting his first good look at him.
The kid was crouched by the bay door, his head tilted slightly as he looked up at them. A faded, yellow hat was pulled low, completely covering his hair and shading his eyes from view, but Kanan could all too easily remember the vivid shade of blue they were from the few times their eyes had met. He wore a short, dirt colored vest over a dusty orange track suit that looked to be about two sizes too big and the baggy way it hung on him made him look smaller than he actually was.
The boy stood up and Kanan saw he had a piece of armor, undoubtedly stolen or scavenged from the trash, strapped to his right shin that appeared to be protecting the pant leg from suffering the same fate as its counterpart which looked as though it had been ripped off, revealing dark brown leggings that matched his shoes and the pad on his left knee.
He looked thrown together Kanan decided and turned his attention to the crate as Zeb removed the lid, revealing. . .
"Blasters?" Ezra frowned.
'What a waste of effort,' he thought, pushing past the strange man to get a closer look. 'Why couldn't it have been food, or parts, or something?' He gave himself a mental shake and changed his tone, no point letting them think he couldn't use them.
"Do you know what these are worth on the black market?" he asked excitedly, picking one up and examining it.
"I do actually," Kanan answered, irritation leaking into his voice.
"Don't get any ideas," Zeb threatened.
"Their mine," Ezra retorted, not backing down.
"If you hadn't gotten in our way-" Zeb growled, snatching the blaster and throwing it back into the crate.
"Too bad." The kid snapped back, placing his hands on the crate. "I got to them first."
"It's not who's first," Kanan intervened, placing himself between the boy and the crate. "It's who's last."
He made to move the kid out of the way, but before he could touch him the kid stepped back and leaned against the wall.
"Keep an eye on our friend here," Kanan instructed as he made his way up the ladder and out of the loading bay.
"You said this was a routine op," the light green Twi'lek pilot called as soon as he climbed into the cockpit. "What happened down there?"
Before he could answer a battered, orange astromech droid rolled over to him, grumbling and clicking.
"Ugh, Chopper, please. It's been a difficult morning," Kanan sighed, exasperated, as he made his way to his seat.
"He's got a point, love." The pilot told him, gesturing to a display screen. "We've got four TIE fighters closing in."
"Hera, how about a little less attitude and little more altitude?" Kanan snapped back, standing beside her. Hera smirked slightly and pulled the ship into a sharp turn, successfully evading the enemy fire and causing Kanan to tumble into his chair. He righted himself with a rueful chuckle. "If I didn't know better I'd think you did that on purpose."
"If you knew better we wouldn't be in this situation," Hera retorted, glancing at him. "Seriously, Kanan, what happened?"
Kanan glanced behind him at the security display monitoring the loading bay. "He did."
"Look," Ezra said from his seat on 'his' crate. "I was just doing the same thing you were – stealing to survive."
"You have no idea what we were doing," Zeb shot back, shoving Ezra in the chest for emphasis. "You don't know us."
"And I don't want to." Ezra shoved the offending arm away and hoped off the crate. "I just want off this burner."
"Please," Zeb growled, looming over Ezra. "Nothing would please me more than tossing you out, while in flight.
Up in the cockpit Hera turned her gaze from the image of Zeb and an unfamiliar kid glaring at each other to Kanan.
"A kid tripped you up?" She asked, torn between surprise and amusement. "Must be some kid. Spill it."
Kanan shook his head in exasperation as he crossed his arms and faced forward. "Aren't you a little busy at the moment?"
"Spill."
Kanan did, and Hera listened intently as she evaded the ever persistent enemy fire. A particularly hard turn rocked the ship violently, causing Zeb to lose his balance and fall forward onto a surprised Ezra.
"Get off," Ezra groaned. "Can't. . .Breathe!"
Zeb rolled his eyes.
"I'm not that heavy in this gravity," he grumbled as he stood.
"Not the weight," Ezra ground out, sitting up. "The smell."
Surprise flashed across Zeb's face. "You don't like the air quality in here, eh?" He snarled. "Fine. I'll give you your own room!"
"Hey, stop!" Ezra cried as Zeb grabbed his leg and started to drag him through the ship. The large alien ignored him and continued to drag him all the way to a small storage locker. With a grunt, Zeb threw him inside.
Unaware of the happenings in the below deck, Kanan finished telling Hera of the morning's adventures.
"Kid sounds impressive."
Kanan's eyes shot open and he swiveled to face the pilot.
"You're not thinking what I think you're thinking," he said, not quite able to keep the alarm out of his voice. He recognized the look in her eye, it was the same look she got every time she had an idea and usually meant trouble, mostly for him.
"He held onto a crate of blaster with a pack of troopers on his tail."
"Because I was there to save him!"
"By the sound of it, he would have done alright on his own." Hera argued back half-heartedly, most of her attention on piloting the ship.
"He's a street rat!" Kanan exploded. "Wild, reckless, dangerous, and-" He glanced at the monitors as he ticked all the problems associated with the kid off on his fingers and did a double take. "Gone?"
As soon as the door had closed Ezra scrambled to his feet and looked around. An air duct caught his eye and he smirked, tugging his hat more firmly onto his head as he inspected it.
It only took him a moment to open it and crawl inside. Habit winning out, he closed the grill behind him. After all there was no point in letting them know how he got out.
'Let 'em guess.' He thought with a smirk as he made his way through the inner workings of the ship. He paused for a moment when a voice he recognized as belonging to the man 'Kanan' sounded over the ship's intercom.
"Zeb, Sabine, where's the kid?"
"Calm down, chief," Zeb replied, hitting the button to open the locker door. "He's in. . .uh, here?"
"Zeb, where is he?" Kanan demanded, sensing Zeb's confusion.
"Well, he is still in the ship."
The faintest scratching sound caused Sabine to look up. Hitting a few buttons on her wrist she activated the thermo-detector in her helmet and scanned the ceilings.
"Oh, he's in the ship alright," she told them, gesturing to the air duct above her head.
"Very creative," Hera muttered. "A lot like someone else I used to know."
She glanced at Kanan, who scowled and took off.
Ezra snickered quietly as he made his way through the ventilation, pushing his bag ahead of him. True, they knew where he was, but listening to them argue had been entertaining.
A loud creaking sounded beneath him and he froze.
"Uh-oh."
The section of shaft he was in gave out and he crashed to the floor, his bag landing on his head with a painful thump.
"Ow," he hissed, rubbing his jaw as he dropped into the available chair. He glanced up and gasped. "I'm in space?"
A pair of TIE fighters flew by, firing at the ship.
"And I'm about to die!"
"Shields holding for now," a woman's voice informed him over the intercom, "but I need time to calculate the jump to lightspeed."
"Buying time!" came a distant reply and a TIE exploded in front of him.
"Whoa!"
A hand grabbed his shoulder and yanked him out of the chair. Instinct kicked in and he reached for his wrist mounted energy sling shot, pausing once he recognized the brightly colored armor. The figure removed her helmet and Ezra's eyebrows shot up. She was much younger than he had assumed, almost his age, and very pretty.
She glared at him and looked about to speak when a particularly hard hit rocked the ship. She pushed past him, hanging her helmet on the back of the chair, and flung herself into the seat.
"So, my name's Ezra," he began, no point wasting a golden opportunity. "What's yours?"
His vague attempt at flirting was cut short as he was grabbed, again, and spun around, coming face to face with the grumpy alien from before.
"My name's Zeb, you Loth-rat," Zeb answered.
"Sorry, you're not my ty–"
"Calculations complete," the intercom crackled. "But we need an opening."
"Found one!" The armored girl called, locking onto a TIE and blasting it.
"Entering hyperspace."
An engine whirred and Ezra's eyes widened as the stars blurred together into a brilliant, bright tunnel of light.
"Dekciw," he breathed, spell bound.
Zeb ignored the kid's strange mumbling and dragged him to the cockpit.
"Hey! Let go!" Ezra grunted, wrenching his arm free. "You can't keep me here. Take me back to Lothal."
"Calm down. That's exactly what we're doing." Hera told him, and the kid snapped his head around to look at her.
"Wait. Right now? With Imperials chasing us?"
"We lost the TIEs when we jumped, and the Ghost can scramble its signature so they won't recognize us when we return." Hera explained.
"That's pretty cool! S-so just drop me and my blasters outside Capital City and-"
The door slid open behind him and he whipped around as Sabine and Kanan entered.
"They're not your blasters," Sabine frowned at him.
"And we're not going back to Capital City," Kanan informed him. "The job's not done yet."
'Maybe not for you,' Ezra thought, tugging at his hat and leaning against the wall. 'But I was done the instant the TIEs caught up with me. Should have stayed in the city, no one would have caught me there.'
He let out a long, slow breath and crossed his arms. The cabin lit up with light as the ship jumped through hyperspace back to Lothal and Ezra relaxed only slightly as the planet came back into view.
By the time the ship landed Ezra was back in the loading bay ready to go. The instant the doors opened he was moving, pausing only when the ship was a good 10 feet behind him. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. As much as he'd always wanted to explore space, he'd always assumed he would be doing so willingly and not with a bunch of stuck up. . . whatever they were.
He opened his eyes and took in the surrounding area. In front of him was what looked like a small village, just visible in the pre-dawn light, and surrounded by plains. Movement and the sound of footsteps behind him told him the others were disembarking. He turned to see Zeb and the girl whose name he'd yet to learn headed in his direction, pushing a couple of crates.
"Hey, where are they going?" he asked, gesturing to Kanan and the pilot, 'Hera', who were headed in the opposite direction with the crate of blasters he'd stolen.
"If I told you, I'd have to kill you." Zeb growled at him. "Oh, and I might just kill you anyway."
The girl rolled her eyes and glanced at him. "Grab a crate. Pull your weight."
Biting back a retort and swallowing a large portion of his pride, Ezra did as he was told and followed the two down the hill to the village.
Ezra grimaced as he looked around at the dirty and rundown buildings that looked like little more than metallic tents. "Been around Lothal, but. . .Never been here."
"The Imperials don't advertise it," the girl told him.
"Locals call it Tarkintown," Zeb added.
"Named for Grand Moff Tarkin," she continued, "governor of the outer rim. He kicked these folks off their farms when the Empire wanted their land."
"Anybody who tried to fight back got arrested – for treason," Zeb finished.
Ezra frowned. If what they said was true, and he didn't doubt for a minute it was, it would certainly explain the air of depression and hopelessness. He eyed the people slumped against the various walls and his frown deepened.
By the time they stopped in the middle of Tarkintown, the sun had risen enough to bathe everything in a soft, yellow glow.
"Who wants free grub?" Zeb called, popping the lids off the crates, all of which were filled with various fruits and vegetables.
'Che! Knew I grabbed the wrong crates,' Ezra thought idly as the people shuffled forward murmuring words of thanks and soft please.
"Thank you." Ezra looked at the dark grey Rodian. The man's snout twitched in a small, tired smile as he repeated his thanks. "Thank you so much."
"I – I didn't do anything," Ezra replied, watching the alien walk off, hands full of food. He tugged at his hat, frowning as he watched Zeb and the girl pass out food. The relaxed, happy expressions on their faces left a bitter taste in his mouth and with a last glance at the milling crowd, he walked away.
As he made his way out of the small 'town,' Ezra examined the people and buildings and the broken odds and ends. Honestly, he'd seen worse. Heck, he'd lived in worse before he'd found and taken over the abandoned tower, and he couldn't understand why the people that lived here were starving.
"They're farmers for crying out loud," Ezra muttered to himself. "If anybody should be able to feed themselves it should be farmers."
He ran a hand through his hair, knocking the hat off his head. Heaving a sigh he knelt to pick it up and jammed it back on his head. Still kneeling, Ezra gathered up a handful of dirt and examined it. With a sigh he let it fall and stood up.
"Ok, so I don't really know anything about farming, but," He looked around at the surrounding plains. "If that stuff can grow here surely they can grow other stuff. . .Right?"
He scowled at a nearby building. He really didn't have any patience for people that gave up on even trying to help themselves. With the exception of a very few instances where people had taken pity on him when he was younger, nobody had helped him. He'd certainly never had anyone deliver food to him or any of the other street rats. Yet he'd survived. If he could, grown people with experience should be able to.
He started to leave again, but paused as the sound of voices reached his ears. It was the sound he'd heard many times before, the sound of people with nothing, thanking those that were willing to give them anything.
"Traeh gnideelb ym esruc!" he groaned, turning around and scanning the area. He quickly found what he needed and got to work. Ezra had almost finished when footsteps sounded behind.
"What are you doing?" Ezra glanced at the speaker. It was the Rodian from before, the one that had thanked him. After a split second internal debate, he nodded.
"You ever hear about place called-" he hesitated a moment before continuing, "- a place called Au'tralia**?"
While Ezra, for the first time in years, told a story about a far off place, Kanan and Hera stood off to the side as Cikatro Vizago examined the stolen blasters.
"Any problems procuring these lovely ladies?" the black market arms dealer asked, running a hand down the length of a barrel.
"Nothing we couldn't handle, Vizago." Kanan answered curtly, trying not to think about a certain blue eyed kid. "Your information was accurate. This time."
Hera nodded, "We got the goods and took a bite out of the Empire. That's all that matters."
"Business is all that matters," Vizago corrected. "But I love that you don't know that."
He gestured to his droids to take the guns and pulled out a stack of golden credits, dropping a few into Kanan's waiting hands.
"Keep going," Kanan ordered impatiently, eager to be done with the shady 'businessman.'
"I could," Vizago said, fingering the remaining credits. "Or I could stop and trade the rest of the bounty for another bit of intel you've been begging after."
"The Wookiees?" Hera asked quickly.
"The Wookiees."
Author's notes:
* I don't actually know what this species is supposed to be called and I couldn't find the name, I just made one up. It's derived from the Greek word 'goúna' meaning fur
** Pronounced: Ŏ~tray~lee~uh. This will be explained in a later chapter.
Comments to Your Reviews:
~ Congratulations Kitty Cat, I was wondering if anyone was going to figure it out. Since you're the first (I'm just assuming since you're the first to say anything) PM if you want a "reward."
