A Lack Thereof

Maybe I'll get lucky with this latest one. Maybe I'll have someone else normal that I can work with. These were common thoughts owned by one Hera Syndulla in the following days after they recruited their newest member. Ezra seemed to be a normal enough child. A little rough around the edges, and a bit untrusting, though that was understandable. He was an orphan trying to make his way through life on the streets with no one else to watch his back.

She had high hopes that this young man might be the lone buoy that helps to keep her sanity afloat. She loved Kanan, she honestly did, with all of her heart. But sadly due to past experiences, her wonderful Jedi man-child was prone to lapses in judgement that often resulted in more headaches.

They had headed back to Ezra's tower to retrieve his belongings.

"Feh, doesn't look like there's much here to begin with," Zeb noted, golden eyes taking in the surroundings that made up Ezra's room. "What all could you possibly need from here?"

Some clothes, knickknacks, a remarkably large stash of credits. And then he removed a rug that covered up a sealed door in the room's floor. A ladder led them down into a sublevel of his tower. Hera could make out no discernable feature in the oppressive dark as she and the others followed him down the ladder. The light from above seemed like a pinprick in the distance now. Exactly how far down were they going?

Once they reached the bottom Ezra wandered away from them in an unknown direction. "Hold on a sec. Let me get the lights."

Moments later light erupted around the quartet of rebels. From the floor, from the ceiling, from the walls…

And with that light, Hera's hopes for a normal crew member died abruptly and loudly. A noise escaped her, almost like that of a wounded animal, long and drawn out.

"What the…?" Zeb couldn't even finish his thought. So entranced was he by the sheer number of items around them. But mostly it consisted of…

Helmets. Dozens upon dozens of Imperial helmets.

TIE Fighter Pilot helmets. Stormtrooper helmets. An Underworld Police helm. Even a red Imperial Royal Guard helm. Each was placed with tender care and consideration upon their own makeshift display stand. The owner of the assorted headwear made his way back to the group, a beaming smile in place. "What do you guys think? Cool huh?"

Kanan found his voice first. "Ezra. What is all of this?" he asked, gesturing with an arm to the large quantity of protective head apparel.

"My collection."

Zeb approached one of the nearby helmets. It looked like that of a standard Stormtrooper. He flicked the helm with a furry digit. "Why bother gathering so many buckets? They look the same to me."

"Yeah, because you can't tell the difference," the Lothal native scoffed in response.

The Lasat growled in offence. "You're telling me there's a difference between each of these things? He pointed to two identical Stormtrooper helmets. Then what makes these two so different?"

He did not disappoint. "Early model of the Stormtrooper helmet, first introduced over ten years ago to replace the Phase II Clone Armor that was used at the end of the war and for the next few until it was phased out. Twenty-five percent more durable with added benefit of lighter weight due to newer polymers being introduced in the Plastoid Composite they build it out of." He switched to the other. "This is the more recent model, introduced three years ago to correct a fault that wasn't addressed in the previous iteration. The earlier models couldn't compensate for rapid shifts in lighting. The newer ones have specialized lenses in the eyes that will automatically dim the images when exposed to greater amounts of light. Flashbangs aren't nearly as effective against them now as they used to be."

"Uh… okay?" Zeb was honestly confused. "Can any of you verify that?" He glanced to his fellow Ghost crew. Each person looked to the other, before finally all eyes turned to Sabine.

"What? I specialize in weapons and explosives, not armor, unless it's Mandalorian armor," she elaborated.

Hera managed to voice a question afterward, inquiring as to where and how he obtained so many of them.

"So… you guys remember how we first met?"

How could they not? Him leading them on a merry chase as he made off with their ill-gotten goods was firmly entrenched in their memories. "Wait. You stole these?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "No, I asked nicely and turned on the charm."

The Twi'lek raised a delicate brow, but showed no other offense to his answer. Kanan and Zeb did that for her, one with a frown and the other with a growl.

Sabine walked up to a helmet and lifted it ever so carefully. "Could use a bit of color in here. Mind if I-"

He snatched the helmet from her hands and returned it to its stand. "No. This stuff is mine, and it's off limits."

"You really expect us to believe you stole armor from Imperials? A street rat? With no outside help?" Zeb was back to disbelief once more.

"Duh. I'm the best thief on Lothal. Bar none."

'And now he's a member of my crew.' Hera didn't know whether she wanted to laugh or cry. A young orphan klepto with a penchant for Imperial headwear.

Each member of her crew had their own unique quirks. Some more dangerous than others, ala Sabine and her explosives. Others were a bit more harmless, such as Ezra's. Originally it had been helmets. TIE Fighter pilot helms, Stormtrooper helmets, and so forth. And then they encountered an Imperial Patrol in Lothal's capital city led by an officer. And the young thief's eyes instantly honed in on the hat the man wore. It was frightening just how fixated the Lothalian's eyes were on it.

"Hey Kanan. What is that?"

The not-quite Jedi Knight peered through his electronoculars. "What, the guy leading the column? Looks like he's only a lieutenant. Shouldn't pose any problem."

A blue mane of shaggy hair shook in response. "No. Not him. What he's got on his head."

"Huh? Oh, you mean the officer's cap he has? What about it?"

"I need it."

Ezra could practically feel the roll of his master's eyes. "I thought you were only into helmets, kid."

"Well yeah, at first. I'm thinking of expanding into headwear in general," elaborated the blunette.

A mild spark of annoyance flashed through their Force bond. Finally the Jedi groaned with exasperation. "Okay, I'll bite. Why?"

"I mean, look at that thing! It screams of authority." He held up his fingers to make an imaginary frame. "Can't you just picture how that would look on a stand?"

"And how exactly do you plan to acquire it that doesn't involve tearing through an entire battalion of Stormtroopers?"

Ezra's mouth had opened midway through Kanan's question to respond, but ceased moving after his Master completed the inquiry, leaving him gaping like a fish. "Uh…"

The Jedi slapped a hand to his face. "Seriously? You were just going to go running in, straight for the hat?"

"Hey! To be fair that's the first one of those I've seen!" His head snapped forward as Kanan cuffed him. "Ouch!"

"Use your head. We've got a job to do. Focus on that first and then we'll see what we can do about picking up your hat."

"Yeah, yeah… I hear you Master." Perking up immediately a split second later he leapt from the roof of the house they were perched on, over to the rainspout of an adjacent house.

Sliding down the pipe with a call of "I'm going in for a closer look!" he could feel the immediate panic, quickly followed by annoyance, from Kanan.

'I know exactly how this is going to end,' the Jedi told himself. 'Either I'm going to kill Ezra, or Hera is going to kill me for the headache I'm sure this is going to bring on.' And with that he followed his Padawan, jumping from the roof in pursuit of the teen. Using the Force to cushion his fall he took off in a sprint, trying to make up for the head start Ezra already had.

Slowly though, as he ran, he realized just what he was doing. He was pursuing an orphan who knew these streets like the back of his hand, and had lived on his own for eight years, all the while avoiding local authorities and the Empire. And now he could knowingly utilize the Force to assist him. He was only going to catch the kid if Ezra allowed him to. 'This whole situation is going to go sideways. It's just a question of when,' bemoaned the older Force wielder.

Left. Right. Hurdle the food cart. Old lady, OLD LADY! Force leap over the elderly. Tuck and roll under the moving vehicle. Round the corner.

Just in time to see Ezra run past the officer at full tilt while yelling out "Yoink!"

"Wuh- Hey! Thief! Stop that child!" howled the officer as his bald head was revealed to the world. And then the entire column of previously marching Stormtroopers took off in pursuit of the blue haired Padawan.

'Yep. Hera is going to kill me…'

On the positive side of things, the officer had waited for the Stormtroopers to run past before joining in the pursuit, meaning he was now at the back of the pack, and with no protection. A quick pull of the Force sent the man flying backward and into Kanan's grasp, who immediately pulled him into a nearby alley.

Hey got as far as "Who are-" before he realized there was a blaster in his face, and quickly quieted.

"Let's have a chat, you and me." Taking a page out of Zeb's book his tone was practically a growl, hoping to sound as menacing as possible. He pinned the man against the wall, forearm jammed into the man's throat. "You recently locked up a group of protesting civilians. I want to know where."

"H-How dare yo-" His response was cut off when the pressure on his throat increased, leaving him gagging instead.

"Wrong answer. Now talk before I decide you aren't worth my time." He loosened his arm just enough to allow the officer to speak once more. Hefting his blaster slightly higher he made it clear he meant business.

ZWIING! "Himaster!"

Both men blinked in confusion as they registered the youthful voice that literally flew past, along with the howl of a Speeder Bike's engine.

'Please tell me he didn't just…'

ZIP! And then he passed by in the opposite direction. A cacophony of cries arose from the way he was heading. He could only assume he was giving the troopers hell.

"It's just a kid, somebody stun him!"

"He's going too fast! I can't get a bead on him!"

"Maybe you're all just terrible shots!" the suspect yelled back as he performed another pass. And then the speeder flew past sans driver. Two seconds later an explosion went up from the direction of the riderless bike.

"Hey Master, you about done?"

Both Imperial and Jedi looked up at the voice from above. There stood Ezra, leaning over the roof, officer's hat perched on top of his mane of blue hair. "Oh, by the way, you're going to have company in like, now." He thumbed towards the opening of the alley. Just in time to see a group of Stormtroopers assemble. They were all looking up at Ezra as well. And then slowly as one the helmets all turned toward Kanan. Then to the officer still pinned to the wall. Then back to Kanan.

"G-Get them!" their commanding officer wheezed.

Kanan released his captive, going immediately for his lightsaber. 'Karabast! Kid I swear I'm throttling you if I survive this!' His weapon deflected several bolts that flew his way.

"I'll take care of him Kanan!" Out of the corner of his eye he saw his Padawan make a fist, then raise it upward in a single quick motion. "Ezra wait that's too much-!"

And then the officer achieved liftoff, rocketing through the air and straight past a surprised Ezra, screams echoing as he went up. And up. And up. And up.

Even the Stormtroopers had stopped to watch their leader as he became a gradually smaller dot in the sky. The distraction gave Kanan enough time to perform a Force assisted jump, allowing him to reach the roof in a single bound. With lightning speed he grabbed his Padawan and tossed him over a shoulder, taking off running immediately. "What did I tell you about using your head?!" He snapped.

"I did Kanan! I figured after I grabbed the hat, the Stormtroopers would chase after me and leave the officer with you. It worked didn't it?"

"Yeah, except for the part where you forgot to tell me about it ahead of time! Oh, and then there's the tiny issue of you launching the man into low Lothal-orbit!" he barked back. "Speaking of which!"

Clearing one roof over to the next, the force user kept his pace up, running toward the edge of the city. "You'll be lucky if he comes down anywhere in the city limits!"

"I had to use enough to get him to the roof!" Ezra called back from over his mentor's shoulder. "Give me a break I'm still new to this!"

"Restraint, kid! Restraint!"

"I don't know what that means!"

It probably would have been bad form to drop his pupil just so he could face-palm. The dot in the distance was now slowly growing larger. Finally the bearded Jedi came to a stop, letting Ezra down with an added command of "Stay."

Lifting a hand, he reached out with the Force. Yep. That was their target, and he was still alive. Utterly terrified, but alive. With a quick tug, their target came to an abrupt stop in front of them, six inches off the ground, still screaming.

Releasing the officer, he let the man tumble to the ground the remaining distance. "I'll talk, I'll talk I swear! Please! Just keep him away from me!"

In the end the operation was successful. They acquired the intel they'd been sent to retrieve, and Ezra had a new hat to add to his growing collection. And they had left one more traumatized imperial officer in their wake. "Property of Ezra Bridger," he'd announced, displaying the new apparel on his head proudly.

x-x-x-x

The Imperial Intelligence Agent watched the man on the monitor with a careful eye. The subject was rocking back and forth, muttering something under his breath. His eyes were wide, focused on nothing in particular inside his padded room. For his own safety he had been locked up away from others. He had been found a sobbing wreck, screaming unintelligible words in his office. The agent sneered in disgust. 'How pathetic…'

The subject, CT-2335, better known as "Gram" to his brethren due to an embarrassing incident during the War which involved being caught by an officer while in possession of illegal contraband which he was definitely holding for a friend, had lived a long life. He had served proudly in the Grand Army of the Republic, fighting at various battles such as Geonosis, Christophsis, Ryloth, Kamino, and even Utapau. After the reformation of the Republic into the Empire, he had been given the choice to either retire and go into a quiet life as a civilian, or suffer through being promoted to a desk job. He had opted for the latter. Even if he couldn't go out and fight anymore, he could at least continue to do his part and support their military as best he could. Even if that meant sitting behind a desk and dealing with paperwork.

The man frowned as he rewound the security footage again. This clone was a veteran of some of the worst fighting anyone had seen in the Clone Wars. What had reduced this hardened, grizzled soldier to a sobbing mess?

Gram sat at his desk, typing away at the terminal, entering the latest batch of reports. Late night work, something the younger generation didn't understand these days… The old Clone suddenly stopped his typing, his head jerking up. He sat motionless, listening for something. 'I know I heard something in the other room.'

Footfalls came to his ears. Someone was out in the main office. 'No one else is scheduled to be here tonight. The place is on evening lockdown with those recent Rebel attacks… Only the director and I have clearance, and he's on vacation until next week.' Reaching into one of the drawers in his desk he drew out two DC-15S carbines. Tapping a button on the underside of his desk, the bookcase on the far side of the room clicked once before sliding away from the wall, revealing a hidden cubby. In it, hung with honor, was a suit of Clone Wars Phase I battle armor. His Phase 2 armor had been confiscated upon retiring. The Phase I armor, however, had been switched out while the Republic was still the Republic. They didn't care if a clone held onto some obsolete armor for sentimental purposes.

Donning the Plastoid Composite armor took no time at all. A soldier never forgot something like that. Clicking the safeties off his weapons, he moved to the door. 'Just like old times, trooper. Three, two, one…'

He clicked the door open, looking out into the dark room beyond. Light from Lothal's moon filtered in through the large glass panes that made up the outside walls of the building. He could spy two people moving through the room.

"Come on, does it look like we have to be quiet? I mean, there's not even a cleaning droid around here." They sounded young. A teen perhaps?

"What have I told you about making assumptions like that?" The other voice was older. The one in charge no doubt. "If you bothered to at least focus for a moment, you may have picked up on the fact there's at least one other person in this building."

"Oh come on. We can take one desk jockey."

'Arrogant brat.' Gram palmed a stun grenade. As quietly as he could, he primed the device and rolled it across the floor. It rolled down the aisle between a row of cubicles.

"Wait, do you hear that?"

"I think your ears are going Master. I didn't hea-" BANG!

Both persons let out a yell as the stun grenade went off. Leaping up from his spot on the floor the Clone drew both weapons. "Freeze!"

Then he was sailing through the air, back through the open door to his office. He slammed into his desk. Thankfully the armor absorbed the impact, only leaving him mildly dazed. 'What the?'

From out in the main office he saw two beams of blue light blaze to life. His heartbeat accelerated. 'Jedi!'

He opened fire with both weapons. His shots were on point, but to little effect as the blades of light intercepted each shot, deflecting them. Some shots came back his way while others were sent careening in various other directions in the main office area. 'Definitely Jedi!'

And then one saber charged toward him. He had managed to get back on his feet. One carbine was torn from his grip with a wave of a hand. His other however, remained firmly in hand. He managed to squeeze off two shots before the young Jedi, only a boy it appeared, made it to him. With a swing of his blade he cleaved the blaster rifle in two. Gram threw a punch, clocking the boy in the jaw. Reaching for his knife he moved to follow up with the opening he had made, only to stop, frozen in place as an invisible weight settled upon his shoulders, nailing his body to the floor. No matter how much he grunted and struggled against it, he couldn't move an inch.

"What did I tell you about rushing in?"

'Crap… the other Jedi.'

The older male stepped into the room, one hand extended in his direction. He was using the Force to hold him in place.

"Well I didn't expect it to be a buckethead!" retorted the teen, rubbing his jaw as he got back to his feet. "Whoa."

Surprise seemed to cross the older Jedi's face momentarily. "Clone armor? What the hell?"

"Phase I armor! That stuff is ancient!" gushed the boy, eyes alight with glee. "I don't have one of those!"

Kanan paid no mind to the comments of his Padawan, instead continuing to glare at the Clone Trooper before him. With a gesture from his hand he sent the clone tumbling over his desk, leaving him in a crumpled heap.

A thud from overhead caught the veteran's attention as he tried to steady his swimming skull. The blue haired kid had jumped on top of his desk and was looking down at him, an eerie smile on his face. He reached down…

"Another fine addition to my collection."

Gram's eyes went wide with terror. Images flashed before him. Clankers. Bodies. Brothers. Explosions. Screams. Blaster shots. Jedi. Republic. Separatists. Fighting. Dying. Surviving. Mud. Disease. Predators. Wounded. DEATH.

It was no longer a boy reaching for him, but a towering creature of white armor plates and yellow reptilian eyes. The same one he'd watched kill his first Jedi commander. And then the screaming started.

Ezra jerked back, helmet in hand as the clone began screaming. The terror the man felt was palpable through the Force.

Kanan pulled his student back and away from the haunted man. "Great, I think you broke him."

The Lothal youth looked up from his newly acquired treasure to offer his Master a glare. "How's that my fault? All I did was steal his helmet." He looked back over at the still yelling veteran. "Are you really that attached to this thing?"

More indiscernible shouting answered him.

Kanan flicked his wrist and sent the clone flying into a bookshelf. He crumpled to the floor once more, this time silent.

A brief smile passed the Jedi's lips. That had felt good. Cathartic even. "Much better. Come on Ezra, let's get out of here."

The two Rebels left the room, making a quick escape from the building afterward.

The holo recording ended.

x-x-x-x

"Hera, we have a problem."

The Twi'lek ceased her current calibrations, instructing Chopper to take over instead. Turning her seat around she gave Kanan her full attention. "A problem? With Ezra?"

The Jedi folded his arms across his chest, adopting a pose indicating serious thought. "It pertains to him, yes."

She waited, hoping he would continue. Instead it looked like he was waiting to be prompted. With a sigh she plowed on ahead with her questioning. "And that problem is?"

"He's strong in the Force. Very strong."

A frown worked its way to the pilot's face. "Okay… maybe I'm not understanding correctly. How exactly is that a problem?"

"He's picking up on things far more quickly than I was expecting. He's accomplishing in days what should take weeks of dedication and training."

"So maybe that just means he has a good teacher?" she offered, granting a smile to go with the compliment.

The scoff she received in return was not what she was hoping for. "Please. Me? A good teacher? I'm a failed Jedi who didn't even make it to Knight. No, this is something else."

"He's going to keep growing, until there's nothing more I can teach him. And then he's going to seek knowledge or power from other sources. Which means the dark side. So I'm going to have to stop him from falling. And since I'm the older mentor figure, I'm probably going to be killed while he's forced to watch, which will complete his fall when he gives himself over to hate and anger while trying to avenge me. Or he'll turn to the dark side and I'll have to be the one to confront him, and probably end up giving my life to turn him back to the Light. OR he'll end up killing me in anger and become the next Sith Lord," his words were coming a mile a minute as his brain jumped to various scenarios and conclusions. "But regardless of what path he takes, I'm probably going to end up dead due to someone being after him. So if I want to have any hope of living to see forty then the answer is to-"

"Kanan."

He halted his stream of words, looking to his companion.

"Are you done now?" she asked, taking hold of one of his hands with her own. Internally she let out a massive sigh. Every now and then the ex-Jedi would go into tangents, usually ones that ended with results on the more extreme end of the spectrum.

He nodded, taking a calming breath afterward. "Yeah. Yeah I'm good. But come on. In all those old holos that's always how it goes. The old mentor slash father figure always bites the dust. It's practically guaranteed! And I fall into that category!"

"Really Kanan. What are the odds that a Dark Side Force user is going to spring up out of nowhere in pursuit of you or Ezra? Surely you would have seen one by now after all these years."

The stare she received in return was as dry as the desert of Tatooine. His tone could easily match it. "Now that you've said that and tempted fate? Probably pretty good."

This chapter focused more on Ezra and his joining the crew/earlier days. Next time we throw Sabine into the mix. Don't worry though, it's not a one and done type deal for each character. Think of these as introductions to each one and their particular charms/quirks.

Thanks for reading. -TCR