The wretched Empire had done it again! This evil horde with their smug hatred and dark ambitions had ruined things. And just when a helping hand had been extended, these villains had dislocated it. They'd disorganized his new family. They had bashed a big, gaping hole in it. Kanan was their prisoner, in their lethal clutches. He might even be dead. The Inquisitor relished murdering Jedi. The pale, grotesque Pau'an was aggressively maniacal about it. He embraced the dark side and the dark side rewarded him with unspeakable power. Power too bewildering to contemplate. Deranged dominance. Ezra, disheveled, sank deeper into his bunk, which seemed more like an abyss, his eyes fixed on the compartment's drab overlay, boring holes into it.

Tears, more tears still needing to be shed stung his eyes. He blinked rapidly to stave them off, but was unsuccessful. Too much pain was strangling his heart. Kanan-gone! What were they going to do now? Ezra rubbed at his eyes as though he would be successful blotting out the tears with his balled hands. First his parents, now Kanan. His pent-up tears overwhelmed his eyes, which were brutally swollen.

These quarters, which he hadn't emerged from in days since their failure, were what silence meant. He had not eaten at all, nor slept well. He had forgotten the meaning of resilience. He strained, trying to sense his kidnapped master. Was Kanan still breathing? Did he still have a pulse? Ezra's pulse throbbed in his neck. There was still so much to learn; so much he still lacked concerning knowledge of the Force. Kanan affectionately calling him 'padawan' echoed in Ezra's troubled, worn-down mind. He sobbed fitfully.

Was he giving up…on his new family? On life itself? All of them kept urging him: come on, snap out of it. We'll get him back. We need your help. We're in this together. Do it for Kanan! Well, he was trying, but so far, he wasn't cutting it. He couldn't get through to his mentor. He didn't know how. He wasn't good enough. Facing the reality that Kanan might very well be dead was too much.

He should have jumped to his defense when the Inquisitor had attacked his master. Foolhardy maybe, but it would have been better than choking down recriminations now. Reproaching himself for his lack of courage plagued him to no end. The big, black hole of despair was never letting him out. He knew that; accepted it. Raged against it still. Worrying a hangnail, he finally bit it off. The skin he tore it from began to bleed profusely. He stuck his index finger in his mouth and sucked.

The ragged tissue at the side of his nail began swelling almost instantaneously. He sucked harder. This sort of pain was easier to dominate.

Zeb had relinquished him, having decided to allow him to wallow in self-pity in peace. Well, almost. The big guy would lumber by, bam on the door several times, then go off, leaving Ezra to brood. Hera was a wellspring of wisdom and encouragement, but he'd chosen to ignore her. Even Chopper had been firing off servo-inspired advice, which too had gone unheeded.

Why couldn't they just leave him alone?

Sabine was the only one who'd had enough sense to just leave him be.

Tears flowed from his eyes. New cracks in his psyche appeared. His voice wobbled when he spoke. "K-Kanan, do you hear me? W-where are you? W-what are they doing to you? Are y-you all right?"

The void was voiceless. Ezra's heart sank to lower, untenable depths. Squirming, he shifted violently onto his left side, facing away from the shipboard room. Grief upon grief. Terrible news. Word had reached them, here on this backwater world. It had been reported that the Empire had taken what they'd done out on Lothal locals. Residents were being rounded up, interrogated, beaten and held for several days for no reason.

What a mess they'd made of so many things. So often thinking that they were invincible. Always right. Could do no wrong. No one was like that; not even Jedi.

Ezra silently yelled at himself at the top of his lungs: None of this would have happened if we hadn't made that broadcast! I said it wasn't a good idea, but no one—no one listened! Now Kanan's gone. Probably dead. And we're lost—going nowhere! I can't take this. This not knowing what to do! It's all so wrong. It's all gone horribly wrong!

A messy, insufferable mess!

Writhing, he doubled into himself and shook, weeping yet again. He cried out, begging for relief he believed was impossible to come. On the verge of convulsing uncontrollably, Ezra went stone still. What was that sound? In the grim dimness of the dingy room, a strange warmth fanned out, over him, caressing. A calmer voice from within told him to leave the bunk and go to the door, instead of telling who was there to come in. Or, go away, as he'd forcefully been doing.

Not hesitating, Ezra obeyed. The warmth was beguiling, but felt so good, as his mind went blank.

"Open the door…"

And…when…he…did, there stood Sabine, glaring at him, but her glare was soft around its edges. She came bearing a tray laden with all manner of sustenance. This wasn't the routine foodstuffs from the ship's stores. She'd been to the local market, which she knew her way around.

The voice in his head was replaced by hers. "Finally," she murmured, brushing past him in a huff.

He thought to speak, but his head was way out of synch with his tongue. He opened his mouth, speechless. So, he promptly closed it lest she remark how silly he looked with his mouth hanging open.

She set the tray down on what passed for a table to invite, "I won't take no for an answer. You've got to eat something. Anything. Here it is. Practically everything I could lay my hands on. So get over here and start eating. Or I'll make you, Ezra Bridger!" The petite Mandalorian was spitfire incarnate when she got like this. "Don't even think of saying, 'I'm not hungry.'"

The glints in her eyes made it clear to him that Sabine meant business.

Instead of saying, 'I'm not hungry,' he replied, "What's all this?" Without thinking, he padded over to the supposed table, pulled up a storage crate and parked himself. He sprayed her with sheepish looks.

"You need to bathe," she snidely reported. She'd smelled worse often before, but she thought to let her opinion sink in. She knew, though she tried hiding it, that he took what she told him seriously. "But first—you eat!"

"What exactly is all this stuff?" He looked over the fare new to him, began picking at the spongy, sweet-smelling, fruity-looking item covered in down with his three-pronged utensil. It oozed juice when he stabbed it.

"Put in mouth, chew," Sabine abbreviated, handing her words to him as she would a blaster.

Reciprocating her being short with him, he snapped, "I thought you were different."

"Meaning?" Sabine, absorbing his attitude, knew what he was driving at. She took his annoyance in stride.

He stared off into space for a couple of seconds, feeling her fill up the room with her commanding presence. Then he groused, "Leaving me alone. You just have to be like the rest. Pestering me." No sooner had this spate of protestation left his mouth, he regretted having said it. If she didn't care, she wouldn't have bothered. She must care about you, sang out in his head. Is this the thanks she gets? Treating her like crap? Before Sabine, looking surly could reply, he crammed in, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean—"

Taking it on the chin, she shrugged. "Dig in. I've got to—"

"Don't go," he appealed, sounding broken, about to be cast off. "Eat with me."

"Ezra, I've—"

"I won't eat a bite unless you stay." Spoken like a true emotional blackmailer.

She dropped down beside him since the crate was large enough to seat two. "Oh, okay. But just long enough to see that you eat most of what's here." She helped herself to a clozy. A type of spiced meat encased in coarse dough before being fried. "Go on then. I haven't got all day." She had intel to check out, alone. Intel that might lead them to Kanan. But she didn't want to get anyone's hopes up. Especially Ezra's.

Surprised that she had chosen to sit next to him, he cracked, "You recommended I bathe. Remember?"

"I'm not spending the rest of the day with you. You remember," she gently retorted, nudging him in the ribs with her slender elbow. She watched him begin, eating a little at a time until he was eating with as much zest as Zeb, whose appetite never needed whetting. Ravenous, Sabine thought smugly and was reminded of an old saying from her homeworld...'eat for the hunger that comes.'

He hadn't felt this calm in days and Ezra wished she didn't have to go anywhere for quite some time. That she might stay long after he finished his last unforgettable bite, along with making him forget that Kanan was never coming back.

Sabine eyed him before uttering a word. In time she said, "I have another surprise."

Perking up a bit more, he responded, "Yeah? Like what?"

Before she rose, she carefully answered, "You'll see." And Ezra, looking as perplexed as before, had no chance to press her further. Hurriedly, she primed her surprise with one smaller, marking the spot on his sallow cheek with her stealthy eyes, aiming her lips at it. She kissed him, her cagy eyes dancing. Ezra yelped and jumped at the same time. "Finish up," Sabine stipulated, her voice husky, upon rising to a stalwart stance.

"If you're going somewhere, I'll go with you," Ezra insisted, his wealth of feeling sorry for himself lessening.

"Not this time, Bridger. It's better this is handled the way it's been outlined. Like I said, finish your food. I'll fill you in later."

He didn't like the idea of her tackling something that could prove risky on her own, but she'd practically handed him an ultimatum. She was feisty, stubborn and the most unpredictable girl he'd ever known. Not that he'd known that many girls. Not too long ago, girls were on his 'ick' list. Of course, that was when he was at that age when most boys thought the worst about girls. Pretty ones like Sabine drew him like gadflies to sugary goodies these days.

"Whatever you're up to, be careful," he imposed.

"Hera and I, and certainly Zeb, plan to."

So...she wasn't off to wherever all by herself. The rest of the crew was back-up. Ezra rested easier.

Then, as though an afterthought, she added, "It does me good to see you eat like that."

Would she give him another little kiss on the cheek if he asked? He still hadn't quite recovered from the first one, having coming out of the blue as it had.

"Sabine?"

Before she reached the door, she swung around. "Yeah?"

"Think Kanan's still alive?" His question hurt his throat, locking his jaw.

She walked back to Ezra and with a sigh, leaned down, getting right into his face. "Let's stay positive about that. Right?" As he finished nodding, she brushed his other cheek with her softer than soft lips. "Take that as a yes. See ya, Bridger. I won't be long. Promise."

Once she'd left him alone, he snapped out of his dazed stupor to burble, "S-see ya. And thanks..."

He'd eaten more than he should have, but somehow it just felt right. Exactly like it had during the swimming lesson and as he smiled to himself and rose, he headed for the 'fresher. He owed her being squeaky clean the next time they were together.