Alora was her name, the cute, little darling, and driving poor Ezra nuts was her game. Not that she knew she was. Though the Force-sensitive child couldn't form sentences, it was clear who her favorite member of the Ghost crew was. Chopper held out the makeshift feeding bottle to the raven-haired kid under Sabine's watchful eyes. The Mandalorian sat on the hold's couch not saying much, too in awe of the spectacle that was Ezra preparing to feed this beautiful baby as if he had a shuttle-full of his own. Holding her firmly in his arms, quietly, he cooed her name and Alora got all wide-eyed, appearing transfixed, as she drilled into the lad's eyes.
"Look at her...like she's yours," Sabine murmured, thoughtful and impressed. "Amazing," she let slip. Alora, as she gazed happily into Ezra's face, snuggled some more against him. Sabine had to hand it to her sweetheart; he wasn't shabby with this adorable baby.
As Ezra jiggled the bottle away from a resourceful Chopper, squirming Alora gummed her lower lip. "Hope you like this..." The 'this' being reconstituted freeze-dried yamma milk, the next closest thing to a female moilka's milk from Chandel. Unfazed, he smiled down into her face and patiently waited for the baby to take the soft, makeshift nipple into her precious little mouth. Gratified when Alora did, Ezra threw Sabine an unbridled look of satisfaction. "Not bad, huh?" Unable to keep this to himself, he blurted, "It isn't easy being irresistible."
"And you'd know, because?" she playfully teased. Sabine leaned into him, and with her eyes on the guzzling infant, whispered, "The Force knows the Force, huh, Spectre Six?"
"I guess it's something like that. Kanan says Force sensitives are Forcefuls. As far as I understand it, we're highly attuned to the flow of the Force. He seems to think Alora has great potential." He shrugged just a little, not wanting to disturb the feeding infant.
"Like you," Sabine broke in, always letting her interest in his unique abilities shine through.
"Well…what can I say?" Ezra responded, blanketing his tone in modesty. Despite his intentions, he shivered involuntarily, thinking thoughts that unsettled him. Slowly he gave voice to them. "Kids like these are in great danger."
Sabine murmured, "Again, like you."
Comprehension replaced ambiguity; the revelation overwhelming. "It's up to us to protect them."
"We're trying. You don't have to volunteer for every mission, y'know." But, realistically, she knew how unrealistic that was. Each time they tried to help in any way, their lives were on the line. Wasn't that what self-sacrifice was all about?
"We'll be okay. We're always very careful…and, well, maybe I see it this way because I want to, but the Force seems to be on our side. The side that's right." His large grin was powerful testimony that being needed by the helpless fueled his emotions. His laughter broke out. "I hadn't given all the stuff we're up against much thought until now. Like me being a father someday." As his heart soared with anticipatory paternity, Alora gurgled. "I think I'd make a great dad."
Squinting at Ezra sideways, while stroking the tot's capped head, Sabine posed, "So, what is it then? Being a Jedi, or a father? From what Kanan says, it really can't be both." Her index finger traveled to the baby's rosy cheek, rubbing it gently. "This one's a living doll." Never having seriously contemplated being a mother herself, wistful, Sabine gazed at Alora, feeling very maternal all of a sudden. To her, she tenderly spoke in sing-song, "Hush-a-bye. If you cry, lightsabers flashing will dry your eyes."
"I bet I can be both." Liking that ditty too, Ezra chuckled and watched in fascination as the heart-stealing little one tugged on the finger he had extended. "You sure eat a lot." The bottle was halfway done and still Alora guzzled away. Her eyes glinting, she pulled harder on the nipple as though she had only just begun feeding. It wasn't long before a tiny burp escaped from her, which made the teens fawn over her more than they already were, all caught up in her sweet mystique. Impetuously, Ezra complained in a sharp, explosive breath, "I do want kids and be a Jedi too!"
"You, with…" Her frown was majestic. "You did say kids, like in more than one?"
"Yeah, that's right. I did. There's nothing wrong with that. I'll make a great father." He gave no thought to his ups and downs, mostly downs, with Pipey. With a sigh, and a shake of his head, he held his tongue, a bit embarrassed now. When his emotions flowed, they did like a raging river.
"Sounds ambitious," Sabine whisked in, losing herself in Alora's diminutive, innocent eyes, their innocence weighing on her heavily. How dare the Empire task those diabolical Inquisitors with rounding up defenseless little babies such as this to turn them to evil! Use them like freakish thralls! "We're fighting for so much more than ourselves. These helpless ones really need us to protect them."
"Don't you worry," Ezra promptly assured, addressing Alora as much as he was Sabine. "We're not letting anybody down. As long as Kanan, Ahsoka, me and all others led by the Force's Light Side are in the fight, we'll make sure none of these kids fall into the wrong hands, trying to corrupt them." Imagining this precious child in an Inquisitor's clutches turned him inside out, driving him to search his feelings like never before. His heart clenched at the touch of Sabine settling her hand gently atop his thigh. Alora must have sensed his agitation and began whimpering. Feeling that he'd slipped up, shame claimed him. "Shh, shush…I'm sorry. I won't upset you again. Promise. Don't—no, don't…" Ezra contorted his face, wanting its tender expression just right. "I didn't mean to provoke you, Cutie." Whatever he felt, she did too. What part of 'Force sensitive' didn't he get? She was just a baby, not knowing one thing about training. Alora stopped fretting instantaneously to resume her dedicated feeding. Cooing her name, he rippled with good vibes. When Ezra smiled, Alora's smile blossomed behind the nipple. "That's right, Cutie, don't stop until it's all gone. All gone…all gone."
He, evoking whatever latent maternal feelings she possessed, Sabine looked on in contentment. "I have to admit, you do seem to have a way with her." She leaned her long torso over, bending to center her kiss on the baby's forehead. "Her mother gets her back. That's what matters." Little did Sabine know that Alora's grandmother had withdrawn from her daughter and husband. Sadly, the distraught woman blamed herself for her granddaughter's capture.
"Like I said to the baby Ithorian, maybe they can come live on Garel with us." Pipey had been easier to manage after Ezra had said that.
"All the known Force-sensitives? How could we possibly pull that off?" Sabine asked, her eyes as round as saucers.
"That's something for the Rebel leaders to decide then, but guarding these kids makes lots of sense to me. It's mandatory." Several burps later, Ezra had Alora over his shoulder, alternately patting and rubbing her back. She had emptied the bottle, and with her stomach full, gas was plentiful. "That's right, Cutie. Get them all out." Listening to the baby's gentle breaths lulled him into a semi-fixated state. Sabine joined him, resting her head on his shoulder. All was peaceful and calm until Kanan's decisive command for Ezra to meet with him to resume more complex lightsaber drills pitched the dreamy babysitter out of his delirium. "Guess I gotta go." Mincing no further words, he handed Alora off to Sabine. "I won't be long."
His departure did not sit well with Alora, who began fussing and fretting, preferring Ezra's arms to Sabine's thin, less inviting ones.
"She doesn't want me, she wants you." Dismayed, the Mandalorian cast Ezra a frazzled look. So much for the joys of motherhood, Sabine thought, feeling for the squalling child, probably crying for its real mother.
"I can't juggle her in one hand and my lightsaber in the other."
"I know," Sabine concurred, waiting for him to suggest something that involved quieting Alora, who by this time was caterwauling, as though having a panic attack. "Think of something," Sabine urged, yelling over the mind-wrenching noise. Did anyone ever get used to this racket?
Munching his lower lip, but looking as though he was in control, Ezra snatched Alora backed into his arms and told the explosives expert, "C'mon. You're with me."
"For what?" Sabine arched, obediently following on Ezra's heels as he raced to the appointment with Kanan.
Over his shoulder, Ezra partially filled her in. "I'll think of something when we get there."
Chopper, always hating to be left behind, tagged along, venting in his usual heated style, as he went.
As his lightsaber arced high above his head, Ezra winked at Alora, then at Kanan. Sabine coddled the enchanted baby as the combined talent of the Jedi had them suspended in the air, close to the field of action. "Watch this, Alo, one day you'll be doing the same thing." Ezra parried Kanan's compelling thrust as though he had been at this since the day he'd been born. The plucky teen's mastery was a silent testament to his mentor's teaching abilities.
"You're getting there," Kanan awarded, double spinning back into place.
Cutie-pie Alora writhed in Sabine's possessive grasp. Precious, unintelligible blather bubbled forth from her Cupid's-bow lips. And then startling speech stumbled out, shocking them all. Ezra, most of all.
"D-da-da-da-da!" With arms waving wildly, Alora shot hers out at the flabbergasted teen and wasn't happy until she was in his arms once more. Ezra warmed to her insistence over time. Her cries rang in his receptive ears. "Da-da! Da-da!" The wee wriggling empress had spoken, and she meant every syllable of it as her infant heart beat faster than the humming wings of many Alothsian birds. Her heartbeat echoed in the practice area.
Ezra was filled with an overwhelming desire to keep this child from harm at all costs, his resolve curled within him. He released breath steadily as tranquility bathed him as his heart thrummed. Frustrations and tensions dissipated like mist in sunlight.
Beaming, Kanan repeated what he truly believed, "The heart of a warrior, that one has. Mark my words."
And Ezra, his hopes and desires furiously propelling him, couldn't help thinking that perhaps, if all lined up well, he might be her Master.
Purpose and conviction were addictive.