RUHLSAR000 Here! Sorry for the delay, but I am taking summer quarter and had my first exam on Friday. And I will continue to have one for the remainder of the quarter. So, I am looking for a new update day. Would you guys prefer Saturday morning, Sunday morning or Monday afternoon? Or do you really not care. Your option will have great influence on the decision. In other news, I think special was the most popular chapter since the first one. It received the same amount of reviews as Chapter 1: Of Flesh. And yes, Mira is Ezra's niece and by extension Sonya's daughter. Internet cookies for Paint the Wolf, DeltaGeneral42, and xEPICxBULLSEYEx. DeltaGeneral42, to answer your question about Ezra and Dhara, all I can say is maybe, maybe not. If I saw a pregnant lady struggling to get up, I'd help her. And Ezra's wife and Dhara could have just been pregnant at the same time. So maybe, maybe not. Disclaimer time. I DO NOT OWN STAR WARS REBEL! ALL HAIL DARTH GOOFY! What? I was serious about running out of ways to say Disney or Mickey and Goofy always portrays Vader in Disney Star Wars crossover stuff. I apologize for errors, delays and long-winded authors notes. In other words, today.


Ezra sits up late in the night, barely able to make out the shoto in his hand. Could Sonya have been telling the truth about their mother? Was she really a Jedi? It has been three weeks since that conversation, yet each time he thinks about it his head turns around and back in on itself. This time is really bad, having his head and eyes feel like someone was taking a hammer to them. He wants to scream.

Zeb's loud snores fill their cabin as the holo-clock switches to 100 hours. Ezra closes his eyes, listening to the sound, letting it calm him. He didn't get any sleep his first week on the ship because of that sound. He finally just kaunked out in a vent, after a while, to get some sleep. Now, it has become a calming sound for him. It means, Zeb is here and safe. Just as the sound of aerosol escaping from spray paint can, sarcastic beeps, and the whispers of Hera and Kanan that are just out of earshot have all become calming. They all mean one thing, home.

Ezra opens his mind to the Force. He hears everyone's heartbeat, feels the calmness of their sleep, see the brightness that surrounds them. He is home.

He opens his eye to see the shoto. He should tell Kanan. He needs to tell Kanan. But, no matter the evidence, he just can't convince himself that his mother was a Jedi. It seemed about as likely to him as his father being a clonetrooper. Apart of him wanted to throw away the shoto, to cast it and the possibility out. But he can't... because what if it was his mother's shoto. The connection between a Jedi and their lightsaber is bound by the Force itself. Holding it, with it possibly being his mother's, it made him feel like she is still there for him. That she is still protecting him

Ezra sighs, slipping the shoto under his pillow. He is many things and has been called many more, but a fool isn't one of them. He knows exactly why he doesn't, can't, believe his mother was a Jedi. Why would the Empire keep a Jedi alive?


Ezra tries to lift his head off his pillow, only for it to fall right back down after lifting an inch. Exhaustion aches through his bones and nothing is clear through his head. Ezra sighs, this cold will be gone in a few hours of sleep or a day of misery. They always are. Too bad there is work to be done.

With a groan, he somehow sits up through sheer force of will. Somewhere that little logical voice is yelling at him to lie down. However, his brain is in no mood to listen to logic as instincts honed by years on the streets kick in. There it didn't matter if your sick, you stop, you die. You don't get food, you get weaker until you can't get food then you starve. Same with water or shelter. So resting doesn't even pop up as a possibility in his mind.

By some miracle, Ezra makes it down to the floor. He lumbers to the door stepping to the side to compose himself for a moment. Suddenly, everything seems to burn and he breaks into a sweat, becoming drench in seconds. He leans his forehead against the cold metal of the wall. Sitting down sounds really good. He is on the ground much too fast, not being able to slow the decent much. He rocks back on to his back. But, the fall is not his biggest concern. His eyes have completely lost the ability to see. It is a solid mass of black. The illogical part of him begins to worry about whether or not his vision will come back. People can lose their vision through illness, right?

After a minute or two, but enough to panic, his vision begins to return in the strangest way. Where lines would be drawn in a cartoon, white lines appear on the black background. Everything looked like a 2D drawing. After another three minutes, the colors have slowly returned. His vision panic over, he notice the heat is gone and he actually is quite cold from the sweat. He wipes away the cold sweat and stands braced against the wall.

This is a bad one.

With a raged breath, he puts on the healthy mask he had developed on the street and walked out the door.

Food. That was priority one. It's a myth to starve a cold. If that's what he has. Any illness your body is fighting a hard battle. It needs fuel. It needs water, too. Then, he just needed to get through chores and whatever Kanan had planned for him. Today would be a good day for meditation. Ezra lets out a sad chuckle. For once, that has nothing to do with Sonya.

Oh, he also has to pray to whatever divine being he doesn't believe in for no missions today. With his mental abilities heavily impaired that would not go well.

Ezra scavenges a bowl of cereal knowing better than to mess with the waffles. He wouldn't be able to escape Zeb right now. Zeb's voice broke through his jumbled thoughts, "Well someon's finally up." Everyone is sitting down, looking at him.

Ezra yawns, playing of his illness, as exhaustion, "Knock it off. I am allowed to sleep in once in a while. Look how often you do."

Zeb glares at him, "Why you-"

"He's not wrong." Sabine cuts in with her smirk. After a moment, Sabine looks up confused. She looks at Ezra, "Kid, you alright?"

"Just tired..." Ezra says. "So... What's on the agenda today?"

Kanan says, "We'll be doing a mission with the Phoenix Cell next week to see if we can confirm your vision." Kanan holds up his hand, "I know it was triple confirmed by the Wind Tribe but the Rebellion needs a little more proof." Ezra, actually, didn't feel up for putting up a fight. As a result, he is more than happy to let Kanan do both sides of it.

"After breakfast, Sabine, I need you to check and prep the weapons and shields systems with Chopper." Kanan continued.

"Ezra," Kanan says. Ezra looks up. "Check inventories." Ezra nods, giving a thumbs up. After that he kind of zones out. He really didn't feel like eating weird tasting cereal, but force it down. He, then, takes a datapad and went to the cargo hold.

After thirty minutes, Ezra mumbles, "This would go so much smoother if I had more than a very primary reading ability." He actually had to resort to matching the letters on the longer names. His head is pounded at a constant thum-thump. It is probably his pulse. Ezra feels another blast of heat. He can take a five minute break, right? Ezra sits down on the floor and leans against a crate. He is asleep faster than you can say "Idiot".

About an hour later, Hera and Kanan come down to check on things. Kanan face palms, while Hera chuckles. "We should wake him. Before Chopper zaps him." Hera smiles, though she doesn't want to wake him. He looks like an innocent kid while asleep. Hera sighs, he is a kid.

"Leave him. That would teach him not to fall asleep while doing chores." Kanan groans.

Hera rolls her eyes, walking to Ezra. "Ezra." She says, gently. "Ezra." She touches his arm to gently shake him awake. Her face completely changes as her hand touches his shoulder. Hera flips her hand to his forehead. "Kanan! He's burning up!" Hera yells. Ezra groans in his sleep. All of a sudden, he isn't so peaceful. He's too pale, sweat beads over his skin, sleeping to deep. Ezra is a notoriously light sleeper to the crew, stating on the street he needed to aware of everything.

Kanan is by her side within a second of the words leaving her mouth. His hand replacing hers. Eyes widening, Kanan barks out, "We got to get him to bed."

"Loud..." Ezra groans. As his vision cleared, he sees two dark silhouette outlined in light much too bright. Then, as his eyes adjust, he see the worried faces of Kanan and Hera. Oh, he fell asleep. Oops. Shoving on his best act on, he stands, ignoring all his dizziness. "Hey, what's up?" Kanan, without a word, puts his hand on Ezra's forehead. Ezra swears in his head. No matter how good he is at acting, he can't cool a fever. "I need to finish-"

"No. With that fever, the only place you are going is to bed." Kanan says, firmly. There is no room for discussion. But Ezra does so any way.

"But, I'm fine." Ezra protests.

Kanan raises an eyebrow, "You're actually arguing to do work when I am letting you off."

"Yes." Ezra says, because relaxing and sick are two words that don't go together for him. They give him a nervous twitch if they even get close.

"Ezra, I will finish this up. Go rest." Kanan orders.

"I'm fine. Just a little slower than normal. There isn't much I can't do sick. Couldn't have been. And I am not helping my case?" Ezra sighs.

"Hera, make sure he gets to bed." Kanan says, recognizing that look in Ezra's eyes. Hera shoots Kanan a look saying you have to ask. Hera leads Ezra out of the cargo hold. Kanan check the inventory and is surprised that there aren't any mistakes in the numbers in what has been done.


"I'm fine, Hera. Really." Ezra grumbles. Chopper shoots through the hall, followed by Zeb. In the hustle, Ezra falls. Even with the wall, he can't get up. "A little help?" He asks, sheepishly. Hera takes his hand and helps him up.

As she does so, she asks, "Are we going to have to go through this argument again, tomorrow?"

"You give me too much credit. We'll be have this argument again in a few hours." Ezra climbs into his bed.

Hera shakes her head, "I'll bring you some medicine, so you might have a chance of winning next time."

"Not necessary. I've survived worse." Ezra say, scooting under the covers.

"They are necessary." Hera not having any of it. Ezra doesn't respond. Hera sighs, walking out of the room. Ezra waits about two minutes before he pulls himself out of the covers, resisting their call. Like sirens, to heed their call is death. He sneaks into the cockpit, where Sabine is checking the shield.

"Need a hand?" Ezra offers.

"Aren't you supposed to be checking the inventory?" Sabine says, not looking up from the screen.

"Taken care of." Ezra says, which isn't a lie. Sabine looks at him suspiciously. "If I was trying to shlep off work, why would I offer help?"

Sabine nods, "I am having trouble reaching the wiring under the floor. It needs to be readjusted."

"On it." Ezra says, jumping down there. He works for fifteen minutes before his vision blurs and he feels the heat surround him again. It'll pass within a few minutes, he thinks, setting down the wire cutters. He focuses on his breathing, in through his nose. Out through his mouth. In through his nose, out through his mouth. The eager to sleep is overwhelming. This place is a good place for Loth-rats to sleep. It's warm. It's dry. The cramped space meant few things could get to him. He... He needs to get back to work, to prove himself valuable to the crew. If not... Then what? Ezra seriously didn't know. It's not like they are the Fire Tribe-

Ezra suddenly realizes what he is doing. He has fallen back into the way he had to think while in the Fire Tribe. Always pull your weight, even if you feel like tooka poo. And he couldn't find himself breaking those habits, even though they are useless now.

"Sabine, have you seen Ezra?" Hera's voice comes out of nowhere. Ezra's head shoots up, and he hits it a partition of metal. He stiffs the grunt, as his hands go to the right side of his forehead just below the hairline. As he pulls his hand away from the tender part he notices a small amount of blood on his gloves. Great, Hera is going to flip.

"He said, the inventory was taken care of when he offered to help." Sabine says, trying to get any trouble off her.

"Oh, Kanan's taken care of it, because Ezra has a high fever and should be in bed." Hera says, sounding very frustrated.

"He's in the floor." Sabine says, "He's sick? He doesn't look it."

"He's a heck of an actor." Hera says. Just then Ezra feels a sharp tug on his ankle, yanking him out of the crawl space. Hera eyes widen as she sees the blood trickling down his forehead. "What happened?!"

"Nothing just hit my head. There was a piece of metal sticking out. Wrong place, wrong time." Ezra didn't add on that that always seemed to be the case.

"Sabine-" Hera starts, but Sabine holds up a first aid kit she got out the moment she saw blood.

"I'm starting to think we should just tap it to him." Sabine says, sarcastically. Hera just grabs the disinfectant and a bandage. She quickly patches him up before dragging him off to bed.

Once she is sure he is settled, she beings looking for the medicine that she had set down when she went in search for him. After about two minutes, she finds it in a cubby. "Alright Ez-" She turns to the bed and see that it is empty, "Ra... Karablast!"


"Hey, Zeb need any help... with what ever you're doing?" Ezra smiles, trying to at least look normal.

"Supply run. And what are you so happy about?" Zeb says, not trusting a chipper Ezra.

"Well, we're going on a mission with another Cell soon." Ezra says, which isn't a lie. He really is excited especially to see D again.

Apparently, Zeb has some psychic abilities cause he picks up the thought, "Sure, you're just excited to see that girl- what's her name- again. Finally got over your crush on Sabine, huh." Zeb smirks.

"It's not like that." Ezra groans. Ezra had only spent a week with her, half of that was spent ignoring her. Sure, D is funny, and seems smart and very pretty with that tightly curled hair of hers. But, that's exactly why he couldn't have a crush on her. She wouldn't be impressed with someone who could barely write his own name. She could have a friend like that though, and Ezra could always use more friends. And besides, they barely know each other. The thought hadn't even crossed into Ezra's mind until Zeb mentioned it.

"Sure, then how come you looked like a kicked lothcat when we dropped off those blasters and she was on mission?" Zeb teases.

"How often do I meet friends who aren't in this cell?" Ezra crosses his arms unimpressed. "So, do you need any help?"

"Aren' you suppose' to be taking inventory?" Zeb asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Taken care of." Ezra says.

Zeb mulls the answer over for a moment before shrugging, "Sure. Ya already tol the others?" Ezra shrugs. Zeb takes this as a yes. Ezra takes it as not a lie. They head down the ramp. Ezra takes in a big gulp of air, enjoying the clean air of the fields he spent most of his childhood in. Since the Empire started its mining, clean air has become increasingly hard to find. Still, it is better than the ship, which is still being aired out from a week in space.

Ezra stretches, this will probably be better for him than medicine, he muses. He shrugs off the urge to collapse like he always does when sick, dashing forward. "You think Hera and Kanan will kill us if we accidentally steal a tie, again?"

The look in his eye tells Zeb he is joking, so Zeb just rolls his eyes, "More than likely. Why do you think they haven't let us go on a supply run together since?" They somehow fall into a conversation. It is usually pretty easy, despite the fact that they both aren't much of talkers. Maybe that's why.

Zeb starts walking in different direction than town. "Zeb, where are you going?" Ezra asks.

"Avoidin' tha'" Zeb points to something in the distance. Ezra squints. Its a tree, a flowering tree, surrounded by a two stone high wall in the shape of an oval. A howling ash plant and an old one at that, if the lack of ash and the size of the tree are anything to go by. Ezra won't tease Zeb over this. The superstition is doing its job. To protect the trees. Or rather what they really are. It takes a few moments for Ezra to identify whose it probably was. He bows his head for moment, closing his eyes. "Kid, ya coming?" Zeb calls, noticing Ezra has stopped.

"Yeah." Ezra looks up and follows Zeb. After another fifteen minutes of walking, they make it to town. "So, we going split up to gather supplies?" Ezra asks.

"Hera'll have my head if I leave you alone and Trapper's get ya." Zeb says, though Ezra notices a slight worry in Zeb's tone that he would have missed had he not been on guard from his cold.

"Taken's don't normally deal in money. Me walking around and using it would blow most off my trail, since most won't be sure I'm a taken. They don't like mistaken captures or arrests..." Ezra says. He leave off the part where if a trapper is certain a kid is a taken, using money (as it is probably stolen) makes a taken far easier to capture, under the guise of an arrest for thief. "The quicker we finish, the less likely it is we'll run into a trapper."

Zeb sighs, "Fine." He hands Ezra half the list and they part ways agreeing to meet in an hour.

Ezra stifles one of only a handful of coughs this cold has been giving him. One good thing he notes, this cold isn't a throw up your guts and cough until you die cold. He really hates those because those are harder to hide and they waste perfectly good food. Still, the desire to puke is present just ignorable for the most part.

Ezra ducks into an alley way as stormtroopers pass. He is in no way, shape or form, up for a fight. Another reason to separate himself from Zeb. If it comes to a fight or a flight, Zeb would rather smash them. In this condition, as much as he enjoyed out smarting the bucket heads, it would be best to avoid rather than fight. Besides there are other ways to outsmart the bucket heads. Ezra climbs up onto the roofs, to his haven. One of the first rules a taken learns is to get rid of that fear of heights, they are friends.

Ezra scoops out the location of each stall containing the supplies he needs to get. No one looks up, they never do. He looks around for threats to avoid. There are three groups of bucket heads scattered over nine blocks. If he doesn't look suspicious, they'll leave him alone. Still, best to avoid them. Trappers. Ezra glances around. He spies one at the other end of the market. He also see Zeb pass him, completely clueless. Ezra rolls his eyes. That particular trapper couldn't remember any takens faces so he himself isn't much of a threat. However, his presence indicates that there is at least one more trapper in town, today. Ezra hops down, and breathes, taking the mentality of three trappers nearby. Cautious, but not obviously.

With a few more stops in alley ways, one due spotting the other trapper and two more due to fever flashes causing him to have to sit down, Ezra has gathered his supplies with just enough time to make it to the meeting spot, perhaps a little more methodically than he normally would have. Ezra turns around, almost running into a wall of purple. He looks up to see a very upset looking Garazeb Oreleos. Without a word, Zeb puts his hand on Ezra forehead, causing Ezra to curse in his head.

"Before you yell! We are still in a very crowded market place with two trappers at either end and about three different groups of bucket heads that I really don't want to fight right now." Ezra says, quickly as Zeb opens his mouth. Zeb sighs, though it clearly does little to calm him. He takes the supplies from Ezra. "I can carry that, just worry about-" Ezra stops then looks around, "Where are your supplies?" Zeb responds by grabbing Ezra's shoulder and dragging him out of the market through a deserted alley.

Ezra feels a cough build up in throat. He swallows it but three more come to replace it. He swallows again and again and again. Until it boils out as they walk through an alley. A wave of fever flashes hits Ezra, causing his healthy act to drop momentarily. Zeb, who is eyeballing the bucket heads in the courtyard, turns to Ezra and sees that moment. Ezra pulls the act on as quickly as he can, in about a minute, "I'm fine."

Zeb looks back at the bucket heads, before back tracking to avoid them. "You lied about telling Hera and Kanan." Zeb grumbles as they continue forward. "And then I get a com from a very angry Twi'ek about fifteen minutes after us splitting up and have to go find you."

"I didn't lie. You just assumed. And you know what they say about assume." Ezra says, shoving the fatigue down.

"They also say a lie of omission is still a lie." Zeb grunts.

"A lie of what?" Ezra asks.

"Leaving something out because you know it will change someone's mind." Zeb says.

Ezra drops that hot potato fast, "I'm fine. Everyone is just over reacting."

"You're sick." Zeb snarls. He doesn't add the "badly" that is racing through his mind. How the kid pulls off that healthy act, Zeb will never know.

"I know the dangers of being sick better than most, but I can't let it stop me. Not now. Not then." Ezra let slip. When he realizes it, he curses inside his head. Zeb for one is confused and tries to ask questions but Ezra refuses to answer. Zeb finally leads them to the edge of town and, to Ezra's surprise, the Phantom and a furious looking Hera. Ezra mumbles something about "chances" and "trappers".

Hera marches over to them. Ezra side steps behind Zeb. After Zeb realizes what he is doing, Zeb side steps revealing him again. Hera glares down at Ezra. "Do you have any idea how worried we have been?" Ezra opens his mouth, but Hera holds up her hand. A mild throbbing enters Ezra's head. "Clearly you didn't or you wouldn't have done something so stupidly reckless!" His stomach churns, as he is hustled on board and they take off. Hera continues to yell all the way back to the Ghost. Each word hammers itself into Ezra's splitting headache and dying patience. Each minute in the flying ship turns his stomach into a knotted mess. Finally, they attach and Hera gets up and lectures some more. The door opens to reveal Kanan and Sabine. Ezra doesn't care. All he wants to do is shove his head into a toilet and stay there for a while. "You need to rest!" Hera yells.

"And you don't understand!" Ezra yells, standing suddenly. He fights the urge to brace himself against the wall. No weakness. Weakness equals being left behind. Left behind equals death. His mind repeats the words he first heard from the head of the Fire Tribe, Axel, when he was eight. Around and around, they circle in his mind. He rushes away from the group, who are momentarily too stunned to do anything. He goes to the fresher and puts his head in the toilet waiting for the nausea to pass or hurl upwards. He breathes in through his nose, out through his mouth. Again and again and again. Finally, the nausea passes. Ezra stands slowly. The wiring still needs to be adjusted in the cockpit. He is the only one who can fit. He has to prove his worth.

By some small miracle, he runs into no one on his way to the cockpit. Or at least, he thinks so. The same fog from this morning has come back. Ezra sits down on the floor mentally and physically preparing himself for the climb down from the living quarters to the main area. Looking down on it, Ezra honestly doesn't think he can make it. There is a thump of a sound. It repeats a few more times. Something touches his shoulder. Ezra jumps, looking startled to see Kanan. That surprises Kanan, considering he had been waiting for Ezra to come out of the fresher to talk. Had the kid really not noticed him at all?

"I'm trying to understand, Ezra. But you're going to have to explain why you are so set against resting." Kanan says, slowly.

Ezra takes a moment longer than usual to process, he can't even pull up his healthy act anymore. "Two reasons... both are stupid, but I can't help them..." Kanan nods, understandingly. Ezra continues, "When I was alone, it didn't matter if I was sick or not. I need to keep moving, keep doing or I'd die. Can't shake that habit. The second reason..." Ezra pauses, "Don't get offended or anything, as sick as I am I recognize it as completely stupid, but I can't really stop it." Kanan nods, which is good enough for Ezra to continue. "You guys won't... won't leave me behind because I can't keep up since I'm sick, right?"

Whatever Kanan expects it not that, his tongue races to answer before his head can catch up, "No...Wha'... No...Where? What? What?!"

"I said it was stupid. But the Fire Tribe, the tribe I was in, if you couldn't keep up you got left behind." Ezra says.

"Why would you join something like that?" Kanan asks, shaking his head.

"All tribes were like that. The Wind Tribe was the first to change that and that was after I was left behind. Beside a tribe that doesn't care is still better than nothing. At least they won't look at you like your worthless..." Ezra explains.

Kanan sucks in a breath, before help Ezra up and holding him up. "Let's get you to bed. I promise, we'll still be here when you wake up."

Ezra nods, "Thank you." Kanan helps Ezra into bed.

"I'll be back in a few minutes with some medicine." Kanan says, before spotting the medicine Hera had brought in.

"No," Ezra groans, "If the other get sick they'll need it."

"We have enough for everyone." Kanan says, realizing his mindset is still back in the Tribe. He didn't know exactly what happened in the tribe, but he knew Ezra and that he would have looked after the others no matter what the tribes were like.

After a moment, Ezra sighs, "Kanan..." A lie of omission is still a lie. He needs to tell Kanan what Sonya said about their mother.

"Yes?" Kanan says, pouring out the medication into a small plastic cup.

Ezra opens his mouth. He can't make himself say it. "Never mind..."

Kanan knows there is something isn't telling him, though he wouldn't put it past the fever. It isn't the time or the place to talk about it. "Here." Kanan gives him the medicine. Ezra downs it and makes a face, before crawling up his latter into bed. Ezra slips off into a deep sleep.


Before any of you say that a cold isn't like that, cause I know someone will, a lot if not all of the scenes come from my own experiences, with heavily influence from a cold I got last summer. That's where the eye thing came from, and after I stopped freaking out it was really cool.

Any who, thanks time and there are a lot today. Thank you staff of the community of The Start of the Rebels for adding my story to your community. You should all check out their archive. They have all sorts of stories from so many writers. Thank you Ichichi05, Paint the Wolf, DeltaGeneral42, and xEPICxBULLSEYEx (All of a sudden I want to play Epic Mickey. Huh?) for reviewing. Thank you edvis93 andJessie K.I (Sorry for missing you in last week's thanks, not sure how that happened. Wait. Did you change your penname? Whatever.) for favoriting my story. Thank you jpeck2000 for following my story. It means the world to me to know you guys enjoy my work. Thank you, everyone who has put up with my long author's note and who read Ner Vod.

Question time: Which is your favorite chapter of Ner Vod? And why?