I don't own, but I hope you enjoy.

Set before the s1 Finale.

When Ezra was younger, before the Ghost, before Kanan and Hera and Zeb and Sabine and Chopper, back on the streets of Lothal, he'd snuck into the stands of school sports games to watch the other kids play.

He could never be a part of the game, no, that required going to school and he, well, he was a Loth rat. He couldn't go to school, have those friends, live that life. His family had been taken, and he rarely had enough to eat, let alone afford schooling or anything like that.

No, he couldn't play, but the stands were open to all, so he watched. Took a break from the otherwise non-stop struggles of his life and relaxed. For just under two hours, there were no Troopers or doorstep beds or painful hunger pangs. There was no fear of being attacked or worries he wouldn't make it to the next morning.

It was one of the few things from Lothal he found he actually missed now he was living on the Ghost.

The team he had supported, the most local one to the part of the city he stayed in, in fact, the school he would have gone to, were terrible. They lost every match; they never even scored any points. It was appalling and embarrassing and he could always see in the parents eyes their annoyance at how awful it was, and in the opposite teams parents the satisfaction.

But it never mattered to the students, because they enjoyed playing the game.

Ezra had watched in fascination as these kids continued on, despite their lack of ability or victory. He marvelled at their ability to come back week after week and try. At their ability to smile and laugh and say 'next time' as they left, retaining their friendships through their difficulties.

Once, when he was 12, his team had actually managed to score. It was one point, but the crowd had practically rioted. They'd laughed and cheered and joked and screamed and somewhere along the line a chant had started.

"We're on the board!" they'd sung, voices filled with glee. It had taken almost 10 minutes for them to calm enough for the game to continue, but their spirits had never been so high.

He hadn't understood at the time why they were so excited.

They weren't going to win. The point did nothing. They wouldn't win the match, or end up anywhere but last overall, they'd lost too many games. The other teams were just better.

He'd rarely even understood why they'd shown up at all, because they just couldn't win, and even with this point, they weren't going to. At the end of the season they'd have 1 instead of 0, but the other teams would have 70 or 100.

It meant nothing.

Ezra understood it better now.

Now they were fighting the Empire. Now he was doing something bigger.

Because even though every stormtrooper they took down was replaced by two almost as fast, even though every crate of munition they stole or destroyed was nothing more than a blip on their radars, hardly worth their time.

Even though every victory looked almost meaningless in the shadow of the Empire, an Empire that was everywhere, and felt nothing when losing a few men or supplies.

They were doing something.

The team of students going to their muddy field every week never won, but they could make sure the other team struggled to get high points, or any points at all. Could make sure at the end of the season, they had 50 points rather than 80. Make sure one of the other teams stood a chance against the ones that always soared ahead, and give easy points to the ones who lagged behind.

The Empire asked what two Jedi, one Twi'lek, one Lasat, one Mandalorian and a droid could do.

The Empire decided the answer was nothing.

But as he watched the Imperial Base go up in flames, bellowing smoke and ash, a victory that would not set the Empire back for long, but for long enough for them to make their next move, he understood why that one point had mattered so much.

Their moves added up, and there were other teams, other groups with more than 6 rebels with one ship, out there. Rebels who were doing much better, and would benefit from every Trooper and crate of weapons sent to Lothal rather than their own frontline.

Small as it was, they were doing something, and eventually that something could become everything.

Thanks for reading, please R+R.