Hoping for something better, or words to that effect. That was how Hera had eloquently put it as she'd gazed upward longingly at the stars. It had been a touching, quiet moment she and Ezra had shared while sitting on her ship's lowered ramp following the fiasco involving Gall Trayvis. The senator was a spy, in stark actuality. His betrayal had come as a shock, and had left the crew reeling. None of them would be so quick to trust anyone from here on out.

Hera was truly wise, a strong, decisive purposeful Twi'lik female. The heart of the group, she knew what it took to keep her team together when they might have otherwise fallen apart. Never in a million years had Ezra given a thought to r & r being granted with this bunch. They were all about anti-Empire activity, practically non-stop. So when Hera declared a day ago that they were heading for the outer-rim world, Arnow XI, a lush, tropical world of palpable beauty, Ezra thought he hadn't heard right. Perhaps the announcement might have been part and parcel of another of his aberrant dreams. Not true, though. Hera, attuned to and mindful of the needs of her crew, knew that a bit of tranquility, coupled with fun, was just what they were needing. One holiday, made-to-order for weary, battle-fatigued rebels was in order.

Kanan had agreed…another startling phenomenon. If his draggy demeanor meant anything, the Jedi wasn't immune to exhaustion, either, like the rest of them. Even robust Zeb looked a bit saggy around the edges. Hera had mentioned that the ship needed a good overhaul, what with the extensive wear and tear outmaneuvering the Empire demanded of it. Yes, the Ghost needed a vacation too. So the vote had been unanimous. Off to the planet of sublime delight they had gone.

Imperials didn't infest Arnow XI. A planetary cloaking device masked the globe in invisibility. Only savvy spacefarers knew of its existence.

In a word, this place was astounding…

Ezra had never seen the like. This garden paradise was the stark opposite of Lothal with its plush sprawls of exotic vegetation. He couldn't name any blossom, sprout or fruitage flourishing to distraction. The entire planet was designed for catering to divertissement. Diversions abounded as each member of the crew discovered. Hera, along with Kanan had gone off to see what sky-chasing was all about. Zeb, unable to decide if he wanted to try his hand at that, or explore some of the costal subterranean caves, finally settled on honing his scaling skills. The highest nearby elevation rose 20,000 feet above planetary sea level. That was a challenge he felt up for. He'd said he'd be back, eager to render a blow-by-blow run-down of the climb.

He'd asked for any takers for the quest to the summit, but his fellow rebels had left him hanging. There'd been a few muffled comments about his proposition was too akin to what they were trying to get some rest from. Strenuous activity. What was wrong with actively pursuing downtime?

"Guess it just leaves you and me." Ezra couldn't have been more pleased.

Sabine looked somewhat put out, but she brightened. Hanging out with her not so secret admirer was uncharted territory. Mentally shrugging, she smiled at Ezra, and went with the peaceful atmosphere of the balmy setting. "And Chopper," she tactfully reminded.

"Yeah, sure. But, I think Hera made it clear that Chopper remaining with the ship is the droid's responsibility." Better it be Chopper's than his. What a waste of being in such a great place, having to babysit the freighter with temperamental mechanization. Even the Phantom's folding wings were acting up all too often lately, which spelled trouble during covert ops. The last operation had nearly been a catastrophe when the shuttle's topside aft laser cannon had misfired repeatedly.

Sabine's winsome face brightened even more as she bounced this idea off him. "I'm not leaving here without going for a swim. Either in the sea-green ocean, or in one of these freshwater lagoons." It had been ages since she'd slapped away water with her hands, slicing through it as she kicked.

"A swim?" Ezra tossed back, a hitch in his reply. There weren't many places on Lothal to take the plunge. There were seas of prairie, not much water. Lots of dust and dirt, but precious little H2O for diving into.

"Yeah. You know. Go for a dip." She'd been swimming since the age of two; her mother and her mom's brother, an aquatic-loving uncle, had taught her. All this had been way before the Empire had negatively impacted her kin.

What would she think of Ezra if she knew he didn't know how?

"What's wrong?" Sabine asked, gently raising an eyebrow.

"Uh, wrong? Nothing's wro—" Ezra frowned, hearing how sharp he sounded, cross. Beginning again, he shrugged. "I guess it'd be fun," he growled softly.

"I love swimming."

Well, since she did, he would go along. For her sake. Anything for Sabine, right? "Okay, then. Let's go…"

She wore the tasteful, although alluring suit underneath her sleek, colorful outfit. When she emerged from behind the thick canopy of vibrant flora, putting herself on modest display, Ezra struggled for breath. His preparedness for seeing Sabine wearing considerably less clothes was thoroughly inadequate. Beads of sweat pimpled his forehead. His throat was as dry as dead Loth-cat bones.

Not entirely clueless, she sweetly asked him, "Are you all right?"

Ezra, his face falling, willed himself to stand taller, demanding of himself to sound like a grown man. Or, at least fake it. He felt weak. "S-sure. I, I'm fine."

"You're probably not wearing a suit." Her delicate brow arched. "Most likely there's one your size back at the cabana," Sabine helpfully supplied, judging from his hesitant expression that he hadn't come prepared. She had sprung her suggestion on him after all.

"No. No, I'm not." Should he own up, or keep his lack of natation knowledge to himself?

Sabine finished tucking her clothes into the twin-zipper satchel she happened to produce with her first name written on it in her signature style. "I'll wait for you here. Hurry up. Get a move on. We'll head to the lagoon closest to the beach; it's not far."

He hesitated, but then decided suiting up would do no harm. Just as Sabine had predicted, he located swim togs that fit him. It wasn't long before he rejoined her and she put up a great front, not letting on that for a 15-year-old, he had a great build.

"Race ya," Sabine challenged, giggling girlishly, a wondrous sound.

"You're on!" Ezra erupted, taking her on with pleasure.

They sprinted off, Sabine leading. He gained until they were neck-in-neck, but she pulled away, leading the entire way on the level, well-groomed path. When they arrived at the lagoon, Sabine cast off the satchel, yelled at the top of her lungs, "Eire!" With hands up and with total abandon, she bounded upward, tucking her legs into her chest as her arms wrapped around them and cannonballed into the deep socket of shimmering iridescent water. When she came up, her hair scintillated, clinging to her bubbly face, her smile radiating over the water.

"You're the rotten egg!" she insisted.

Looking all kinds of dazed, Ezra had fallen well short of the body of enticing water. How deep was it, he wondered, fearing it was bottomless. A realization gradually nestled him in an awareness. Sabine wouldn't let him drown. Would she…

Like a real man, he confessed, "I can't swim."

"Oh?"

"Nope. Nobody ever taught me. My parents didn't know how either." His confidence in her kept building. "Is it hard? Could you teach me?"

Already, having swum to him, Sabine nodded, extending her hand in welcome. "Not hard at all. I'll show you." Noting his loss of skepticism, she further encouraged, "Trust me. I'll have you slipping along like lu-fishes."

Lowering himself into the unknown, Ezra took her hand, losing himself in her assurances. Succeeding when he thought he was failing. Torque was with him. By the end of the day, she had him fearlessly diving into the lagoon, gliding underwater, proving to him that having faith in his abilities and the backing of a true friend surmounts the innermost fears.

All sealed with the lightest of kisses upon his cheek before the sun set. Tomorrow, they'd tackle the ocean. Together.