AN: Surprise! I hope this makes someones day!
I want to say how thankful I am for all the support and patience you've all given me over the last 6 months. I know it's been a long time but I never gave up, and every time I got a review or message I was spurred back into writing. I'm working on the rest of it still, and I really want to finish this. So don't give up on me and I'll keep doing me best!
Let me know what you think about the new chapter, and if the writing style or feel for the dialog has changed.
Thanks always to Meepicheep and CounterweightingDeath for the constant support.
The Survival Trials
Chapter 16
Ezra woke when something slick moved across his neck.
Everything hurt for some reason and all he wanted was to roll over in his bunk and go back to sleep. It was dark and warm here and he was still so tired. His first instinct was to brush the itch away with a sleepy mumble.
"Go'way Zeb. Lemme sleep."
The tickle didn't stop, pulling Ezra from his sleep with an irritable growl.
Ezra opened his eyes, fully prepared to launch into an argument with his bunk mate, but a mass of colourful scales down one side of his mask put a stopper in his words. He was instantly awake and his whole body went ridged.
Ezra waited an agonizing long time for the snake to pass over him, the weight of it making his helmet shift.
Finally the tail, capped with a thin barb at the end, slithered away into the roots. Ezra counted to ten, before leaping to his feet and shaking his arms about enthusiastically while his skin crawled.
"Blegh! Kriff me."
He made a mental note to clear away some of the damp roots before bedding down in a snake nest again.
He took his time tidying up the camp, rolling his still damp sleeping bag and rechecking his supplies. He debated whether he should leave the safety of the earthy cave at all, before rationalizing that couldn't spend all his time sitting in a mud pit waiting to go hungry. Besides, he couldn't waste his helmet's power cells using the night vision constantly. He needed to consider a light source.
Ezra slung his backpack over his shoulders and slid back into the water. He hissed at the sudden change of temperature but pushed through the shock, taking one last deep gulp of air before diving.
He broke the surface of the pool with more noise than he'd intended, but a quick survey of the bank told him he was alone.
The sunlight was back, centered high in the sky, but there was still a sense of early morning in the air. How long had he been hiding?
As he climbed out, he pulled off the helmet and shook the water out his ears. He was suddenly struck by the thought that perhaps this might be his first appearance on the holocam since his, likely dramatic, disappearance under the water. A surge of excitement filled him.
He forced a grin and put up both hands as if welcoming the cheers from an unseen audience.
"Nice try guys! But the Leatherback's morning breath was more frightening then that! When do the real challenges start? Can I expect assassin droids at noon?"
The last remark was probably pushing his luck, but it was too late to take it back now. He dropped his arms with a shrug, hoping he looked more bored then unsettled, and pulled the helmet back over his ears.
He had a feeling it was his lucky day
Hera had stayed on board the Liberator to attend a briefing with the rest of the rebel fleet captains, so the crew had gotten to work with the everyday maintenance of the Ghost. But the feed was left running on the holo-projector in the common room. Somehow, one or another would find themselves there in-between jobs. Kanan stopped after the steering check, the rudder had taken a hit from the Nuyrue job and needed an adjustment. Hera would want to double check that, but it was only a few moments in front of the screen before Sabine walked through as she finished the diagnostic check of the weapons system. Kanan left to check the ship's life support and environmental controls passing Zeb who had just cleaned the hold where a crate had cracked open and a couple gallons of bacta had leaked. Between the three, they kept a running tab of what was going on in the arena.
Three more deaths had taken place, there were only 12 candidates left.
Candidate Twenty had rushed the Nikto, only to be shot through with the arena's only blaster. Candidates Three and seventeen had both separately fallen victim to one of the Dug's traps, and while Three had managed to escape with only minor injuries, Seventeen had not been so lucky.
The most unfortunate end of all had come to the Corellian man, a fodder candidate labeled eleven.
He had literally stumbled smack into the Massassi's camp, blind and half mad with exhaustion.
The end had been... messy, and slow. Before the man could finish screaming on screen, Hera, who had just arrived shipboard, reached down and switched the Holo-feed off.
"We don't need a reminder of whats at stake," She said, looking at their weary faces. "Chopper's recording, we won't miss anything."
It was Sabine who later found the first glimpse of Ezra dialing through the day's feed as the crew sat down to eat together, a rare occurrence these past few days.
The holofeed had been broadcasting a gritty image of the Trandoshan, still apparently too injured to move from the hovel he'd built himself in the marsh, when it cut to the brightly lit clearing along the edge of the water.
The Ghost Crew froze in their seats as they watched, the peace was broken as a grey helmet burst to the surface. The Kid visibly flailed in the water for a few moments, before seeming to find his bearings and making for the shore.
"Karablast!" Zeb swore, dropping his waffle from his fork. "The Kid's back!"
"Shush." Hera hushed him, critically observing the figure climbing awkwardly onto the water bank. The boy kicked his soaked boots and shook water from his arms and from under the helmet, then he stood up straight and looked around him, as if he could see the cams. The crew were startled as he addressed the audience.
"When do the real challenges start?"
His challenge to the holo-feed made Kanan grimace, no doubt, that the boy had by now caught the interest of the entire gambling ring. Whether that was good or bad remained to be seen.
Ezra spent the morning fishing by hand.
A little further down the stream, the water lost its speed and formed a series of slow moving pools tucked between larger boulders. Tall reed grasses grew along the waterway's edge, forming a wall several feet thick. It was enough of a barrier that Ezra felt safe as he was likely to get. He stashed his backpack in a cranny between three large boulders that formed a little island out in the middle of the stream and opened the faceplate of his light shining off the water and the fresh air on his face made him feel more refreshed than he had in weeks. The dull throb in his calf where the sturgeon had taken a bite out of him still ached to stand on. He spent the morning wading through the water that came up to his navel.
After his battle with the sturgeon, he was no longer afraid of what might be in the water. The light shone high and lit up the river bottom. Algae carpeted the sunken tree roots and stones, but his boots kept him from slipping.
There were fish everywhere.
Not the small guppies he'd swallowed whole the day before, or the sharp finned sturgeon. These were medium sized, about the length of his hands with long whiskers sprouting from their chins.
They glittered yellow and brown as they darted in and out of the reeds. A few brave ones came to investigate the boy standing in the mud, and gave an experimental gummy nibble on his fingers or boots before darting away.
He first tried letting a fish approach, then ducking his hands into the cold water, trying to nab it. He spent most of the morning grabbing water. He hadn't managed to touch one, they were just too fast. His wet boots chafed and his fingers had long ago gone numb, but he was eager to keep trying. He took a break on the rocks with his back pack, hoping he would dry out a little, taking the helmet off for a few moments.
Sitting down, he realized while the sunlight was bright, he didn't feel the usual burn on his cheeks like the suns on most planets. He squinted at the sky, still unable to judge how far along the day was.
He put the helmet back on and moved to a new location, carefully stashing the backpack in another cranny near a large flat boulder on the river's edge. Back fishing again, a smile kept trying to pull at his lips, every time the fish circled back, toying with him. For the first time since his capture, he was almost (dare he even think it?) ...having fun.
They were too large and quick to catch with a tarp and some rocks, but Ezra wasn't worried. His belly was still full from his meal the night before.
Even if he caught nothing, it was still better than sitting around waiting to get run through. He was sick of wandering aimless and afraid.
He stilled as one larger fish, swam between his feet. It darted around his leg and skimmed past his knee.
Ezra drove for it, sending a splash of water across his faceplate, and the cloud of fish that had surrounded him darted out of reach to the deeper parts of the river. He wiped the veiwports dry with his sleeve, and returned to standing still.
He wondered half heartedly, if the Crew were watching him and what they'd think of his new found hobby... Then he shook his head. There was nothing good down that road.
He hoped, beyond hoping, that the crew wasn't watching. He didn't want them to see him struggling, or to see whatever lay ahead.
Kanan crossed his arms and sighed and waiting for the holo to flicker between the Candidates as it had been all day. The Trials had been unsettlingly calm the last few hours. He had watched as the Dug had finished carving another pit deep in the earth and lined the bottom with sharpened reeds while at another location the Massassi was sharpening a deadly looking throwing axe.
But for the most part, Kanan did his best to ignore the other Candidates and concentrated on his meditation. It was easier to ignore the feeling of dread eating at him while he focused on trying to pinpoint his Padawan. He had hoped he might have more success if he could see Ezra on the holo in front of him.
Since his dramatic reappearance early that evening, Candidate Six had received more holotime then anyone on board was comfortable with. Evidently, his challenge to the gambling underworld had paid off, since the feed had cut to the boy several times since. So Kanan waited, keeping an even rhythm on his breathing, which was harder to do then expected as his heart rate spiked each time the feed flickered.
When it did this next time, the feed was now focused on a boy in the middle of a river, sitting on some rocks.
Kanan straightened and was reaching for the communicator to call everyone else, when he stopped.
The cams zoomed in on Ezra's face and Kanan was struck speechless.
Ezra had removed the helmet for a few brief minutes while he rested, and for the first time since the Candidate's Review, Kanan had a clear view of the boy's face.
Ezra looked haggard. His blue eyes were sunken and stayed open wide even in the bright glare off the water. Where Kanan might have once said was a mischievous glint in the kids eyes, was now a wild sort of anxiousness, like a lothcat waiting to bolt.
The blue tattoo stood out against his bare scalp. The bold inked edge and still irritated patches of dry red skin made it difficult for Kanan to keep his temper rising. Now all the painful migraines that had plagued him only a few days ago made a dark sort of sense. It wasn't just stress.
All this time he'd been terrified of his lack of connection with his Padawan, and only now the signals were coming clear.
It was born from a grim revelation, but now Kanan had hope.
He was still connected to Ezra, the boy's pain and panic reached for him, now he only needed to learn how to reach back. He reached for the communicator.
"Available crew to the holoterminal."
No one answered, but he heard sounds of projects being put aside, and what might have been crates dumped down in the cargo hold.
On the feed, Ezra shoved his helmet on, moved his pack, and waded out to fish again further downstream. Hera silently scooted onto the bench next to Kanan watching Ezra as he stilled to concentrate.
The holo figure moved suddenly, diving, his hand shooting into the water, snapping it back, empty handed.
"Karablast." he muttered, the collars mic airing the mumble clear as day through the feed. The kid waded deeper into the water, shifting his helmet around his ears.
Coming into the room, Zeb smiled thinly at the boy's choice of swear, watching through narrowed eyes, his arms folded tight against his chest. Kanan noted their Mandalorian's absence with understanding, she was busy with her own projects.
Chopper joined them just as the holo feed flickered again, and Ezra was gone. The Crew watched for another moment, before collectively and silently turning back to their tasks.
Later, that evening, as they watched the feed on play-back. It was easy to forget the murderous horrors they'd witnessed only hours before. The scenic imagery of the boy peacefully wading through the water trying to teach himself to fish brought a feeling of calm, a stark contrast to the blood and battle of the rest of the Arena.
The boy refocused on the still surface, apparently watching the fish circle his ankles. The mask was back in place, but they read his posture, relaxed and focused on the water. Kanan saw the boy's shoulder visibly relax and rise in a familiar pattern. He's meditating, Kanan realized, sitting up straight, unable to help the small twitch of a smile at the corner of his mouth.
The kid slowly coiled his arm into his chest, hovering his hand over the water and waited, barely moving.
They watched the boy's arm snap down and back with a splash, and he seemed as surprised as they were to see a skinny fish wriggling in his hand.
He gasped, and quickly swiped the faceplate back, revealing an enormous grin. He clutch the fish proudly out in front of him as he made his way back to the bank and sank down onto a rock.
The Ghost crew collectively smiled at the raw smile they all missed.
They all jumped when Ezra took the head of the wriggling fish in two hands, and snapped the creature's neck with a sharp twist.
"Better you than me." Ezra told it, and deftly slid the vibroknife out of his boot and jammed the tip into the belly and raggedly sliced it open.
The action was clean, and without hesitation. A hyperjump's distance from the boy who'd cringed at eating a worm alive just the day before.
What had happened to him while he'd hidden from the holocams? The crease returned between Kanan's eyes, and Hera lips twitched downwards as they watched the kid scoop the fish's innards out with the tip of his knife.
Was Ezra already changing?
The smaller fish had far less bones than the longer one had, and Ezra found it much easier to fillet it into chewable pieces. When he was done, he ate a few pieces carefully before laying the rest out on top of the a smooth flat rock that was warm from soaking in the light. He hoped that drying the meat would give it more of leathered texture, like the meats cured in the markets. If he could dry it maybe it would keep fresh enough to be eaten at a later date. If Ezra could stockpile his food, he could stay longer in the underwater cave.
He had briefly entertained the notion of trying to make a small fire that he could keep burning low in a corner of the cave. But after he'd spent an hour of the morning trying to think around the problem of transporting dry materials through the underwater path to the cave, he realized, a fire in the small space would quickly eat up all his oxygen. The last thing he needed was to suffocate in his sleep, hidden away so even the cam's couldn't find him.
He pushed away the idea, and set about catching more fish. He was surprised that the first one had not been a fluke. Only half an hour into wading in the shallow water, he managed to catch a second. He filleted it like the first, and decided to try his luck for a third.
The day was warm, and the glare of the light overhead began to wane well before he'd managed to catch his last fish for the day.
A tickle at the back of his mind had him spinning around, suddenly wary he was being watched. But each time he looked, the bank was clear. He tried to focus his senses into the shadows of the trees, but each time he came up empty. I'm just being paranoid because I'm trapped on a planet populated with murderers. He told himself firmly. Nothing to worry about. This is no different then trying to sleep while Chop is around...
The feeling had got his skin crawling though and he was more then ready to call it a day by the time his fingers finally grabbed hold of the scaly thing.
He collected the backpack and made his way back towards the shore, picking water weed off his legs and kicking the mud off his boots. His damp suit chaffed in all the wrong places.
"I sure hope I don't get a rash some place unpleasant." He told the air with a smirk. No one answered of course, but he liked to think someone in the audience appreciated his humour.
Reaching his temporary camp, he stopped short and blinked, staring down at the flat rock where he'd left the slices of fish to dry.
There were two pieces missing.
Ezra locked his knees and immediately cast out his awareness. He didn't dare close his eyes.
The river bubbled quietly to his right, but the trees were still, which only served to make the silence heavier. Ezra frowned and reached out with the same sensation he used when trying to connect with other beings. All he needed was a half second's head start and a direction he should run in. He thought about the blade in his boot, mentally preparing himself to make a dash for it….
Suddenly, there was a blip of fear from high in the trees, not in front of him, but above him... almost directly overhead.
A feeling of panic swelled in Ezra's gut, but he knew it wasn't his. It belonged to the presence in the trees.
Ezra blinked a few times, forced his knees to unlock, and with an over exaggerated shrug he dumped his latest catch and turned around and headed back towards the river.
He waded deep, keeping his movement slow and careful. After a few minutes, he slowly meandered around the bend in the river reeds. Though he acted as if he were looking for more fish, he kept a careful hold on the small and frightened being's presence in the force, all the while keeping his eyes on the water.
The further away Erza drew, t he felt the being's fear diminish
As soon as Ezra was completely out of sight of the tree, he dove to the far end of the river bank and took off as quickly as he could through the trees.
He followed the orange brier patches that grew along the bank, making a large circle around to the flat rock. As he drew closer, he slowed his pace and began to weave between the trees. He thought about how he approached a target in the market with the intent of picking their pockets. He would casually zigzag, working his way towards the mark, melting into the crowds before anyone might realize what was wrong.
Ezra softened his steps and crept as quietly as he could to a patch of scrub and crouched low to the ground.
From here, Ezra had a clear view of the river bank between the trees. He closed the faceplate of his helmet and the world around him came into sharp focus. There was no breeze, but the targeting system immediately located a temporary shiver of movement in the leaves. He zoomed in with the scope and waited.
Reaching out with the force and letting out a steady breath, he tried to focus. He could sense fear and anxiety, but now it was paired with... desperation? He was certain now, this was no murderous hunter, this was a fellow fodder candidate!
Ezra waited until his knees began to ache but there were no more signs of life. The heat sensors confirmed that his target hadn't managed to escape, but from this distance he couldn't be certain. He had to be sure before he made any approach.
Finally, Ezra was considering a more full frontal tactic, when the movement sensors spied something glinting in the sunlight.
The speck lowered from a branch midway up the tree, where the heat signature flared and pulsed. It dropped smoothly towards the ground and as it turned gently in the air, the scope defined its shape; a silver hook on a thin line.
It took a few tries but Ezra watched with growing anticipation as the hook was lowered and dragged across the rock, finally catching a white fillet by the skin and hauling it quickly up into the air. At it reached the leaves, Ezra saw a thin grey hand snatch it up.
He recognised that hand. It was candidate 7, the Xexto boy.
That little sneaky thief! He thought, a wild grin breaking out on his face. The apples of his cheeks ached and he realised he hadn't smiled properly in weeks. Then the smile slid away.
Why hadn't Ezra sensed him before? Was the kid simply not a threat? Or was Ezra being careless assuming he could rely on his senses to alert him? He should never have lowered the faceplate!
Ezra stood up carefully, withdrawing away from the bank, thinking about how to approach the situation. His heart was pounding with excitement.
He decided to use a slow approach. He needed to be... delicate. He couldn't make any mistakes, he couldn't afford to scare the kid off.
Over the next hour, though the light was dimming he waded in the water, sometimes making a snatch for a fish.
Luck was with him, and he made a fourth catch for the day shortly after entering the water. Now that he'd had time to learn the right form, his aim and speed were getting better. He was starting to predict their patterns, it was like sensing movement in the Force.
At this rate, he needn't worry about food for some time.
He returned to the flat stone and cleaned his catch, butterflying the fillets. He lay two pieces out purposefully on the rock, and then instead of shoving it back into his boot, Ezra made sure to put the vibro-knife out on clear display on the other side, out of immediate reach.
After a moment's hesitation, he pressed the button on the side of his helmet opening the faceplate. It's a calculated risk, he told himself firmly, a show of trust.
He took a deep breath, and then pulled the helmet off and lay it at his side. The sweat on his face began to cool, and Ezra closed his eyes for a moment, trying to ignore the feeling that he was suddenly the centre of attention.
To distract himself, he sat down on his rump, trying to look comfortable, and began chewing on the last piece of the fish.
Ezra was used to eating the fish raw now. The texture was soft and rubbery and the meat turned into mince on his tongue. He preferred the sweetness of fruit, or a nice spicy protein pack. But he'd grown accustomed to the fish.
"What I'd give for some Koba Sauce right now." He said loudly though his food, imagining what the sweet salty sauce would do for his meal. He hummed thoughtfully while he chewed.
There was no answer.
Ezra swallowed his mouthful, then taking a deep breath, he steeled his fluttering nerves. Staring straight ahead into the sand.
"I'm loath to admit it." he started, his voice sounded rough in his ears at this volume and he cleared his throat. "I'm pretty proud of my light fingers. But, I'll accept it; you got the best of me. You're a pretty good thief. Patient too."
He took another bite, listing to the silence.
"I think you've been up there all day. Am I right?"
The river gurgled peacefully.
"More?"
Silence.
"Well, anyway, I'm going to keep catching fish and I'll keep leaving them here. I don't mind the extra work. I've got the time." He snorted at his joke, popping the last of his morsel into his mouth with a lopsided smirk and chewed thoroughly before licking his fingers.
"But, I could use an extra hand to help out." and smiled ruefully and looked up into the canopy. "Or four." He added with a grin.
The trees was perfectly still, the leaves hanging limply in the still air. After a long tense moment, a section of greenery was pulled back and a narrow grey face with two large dark eyes peered down on him.
"How about it, Seven?" Ezra asked, making sure to keep his hands on his knees in clear sight. "You want to get outta this place with me?"
The boy winced, and then his face withdrew from view. Ezra was momentarily worried he'd said the wrong thing, made the wrong move, when two long grey limbs appeared out from the tree-line at the trunk and carried the Xexto to the ground. He stayed hidden behind the tree trunk for several seconds, then narrowly dipped his thin face around the tree.
He kept all four arms hidden behind the tree, shielding as much of himself as possible. He was dressed in the same dark jumpsuit and there was a chunky green and brown roll that looked like a sleeping bag strapped to his back.
"You can't escape." Seven said in a hoarse voice.
He needs water, Ezra realised, recognizing the dry rasp and the cracking along the other boys lips.
Ezra shrugged, and turned his face away from the kid and began digging through his backpack.
"Sure we can. This is just a really expensive prison camp. I've gotten out of worse." He lied without hesitation and used the lie to fuel his ongoing perseverance. He was going to get out of this place.
He found his water skin and the steelum cups. He poured water into two of them and placed one on the rock beside the fish.
"I had a Xexto buddy back on my home planet." he said conversationally, doing his best not to feel his heart drop. "He taught me how to pick pockets and everything else off a mark. If you wanted, I bet I could teach you some stuff too."
"How to Fish?"
Ezra turned, surprised at how close the other boy's voice was. He had crept closer while Ezra's back was turned and was reaching for one of the water cups. He withdrew a little, eyes wide as The other boy caught him in the act.
Ezra looked away, making sure not to pay attention to the steel cup clicking against the rock. This kid has some quiet feet, Ezra thought. Maybe once he's had a decent meal and some water; his hands might stop trembling.
"I dunno about that," Ezra said carefully. "I've only just started. I'm really just splashing around till I find something." he saw the grey hand replace the first cup and take the second from the corner of his eye. "But I could still try. I bet the bigger ones might take an liking to that hook you've got. We've got scraps to bait 'em. And I could teach you some other stuff."
Ezra refilled the empty cup, and was pleasantly surprised when the kid held out the second cup to be filled as well. He grinned.
"I bet you have your own tricks that have kept you going till now. Maybe you can teach me whatever you've picked up?"
Seven looked up sharply over his water cup and eyed Ezra with apprehension. Clearly questioning if he could risk trusting him any further. Ezra let him study his face, hoping now that he wouldn't startle the boy and offering him a soft hopeful smile.
When the boy didn't return it, Ezra let the smile drop.
"I'm sorry," he admitted, looking away, "for all the trouble I caused back with the inspection and ...for drawing attention to you in the line up. It was important we switch places."
He hoped the kid wouldn't ask why it was so important, because Ezra didn't know how to explain without risking intel on the crew.
The Xexto boy's eyes narrowed, searching Ezra's face for something to distrust. Finally, he gave a very slight nod and looked away.
Ezra recognized the defensive gesture. "You been on your own for a while, haven't you?"
Seven glared down into his water. "My... my uncle sold me to save the plantation. I got sent to the slavers. They... they said they wanted more...variety in the candidates. Too many humanoids already and I just... happened to be at the front of the line."
The admission surprised Ezra, who hadn't expected such honesty.
"You got picked because you're a Xexto?" Ezra asked and huffed in agitation. "At least I got bought for payback. I guess I sort of deserved it a bit." he smiled very thinly and looked into the air. "I hope that fat red bastard is enjoying the show."
Seven tilted his head very slightly, like he was confused, but didn't push for information.
Ezra noticed and then frowned at the uneaten fish sitting on the rock. Seven saw his eyes and reached for the piece with a questioning look and Ezra nodded.
As Seven snatched the fish up with long grey fingers and chewed, Ezra drew in a slow breath.
"I haven't been to slavers... well, before all this anyway. But I've been on my own. It's not so bad; as long as you look out for yourself."
Seven was facing the water, chewing mindfully as he listened.
"But I can tell you from experience, it's way better to have someone looking out for you, and even better to look out for someone else." he extended a hand carefully, and Seven jerked in surprise. "What do you say, we work together on this? Partners?"
"Partners?" The Xexto dropped the last of his fish in shock. Then his expression grew thin. "For how long?"
Ezra blinked. "For as long as it takes to get outta here."
Seven looked apprehensively at the extended hand, and Ezra had to withhold the wince as his arm began to ache, but remained patient. His smiled, genuine and bare.
Seven studied him for another long moment, boring his opalescent eyes through him.
"We can do this Sev." Ezra said firmly, "Together; as a team."
The other boys mouth twitched into a weak smile.
Ezra felt a surge of confidence and grinned. "Six and Seven sounds like a good combo, right?"
"Okay." Hesitantly, Seven reached out put one of his hand in Ezra's. "Partners," he said, nodding.
Ezra let him judge how firmly he held on, and they shook once and then withdrew.
"Well," Ezra began brightly, "Now that that's sorted, how do you feel about underwater caves? I've kicked out all the snakes, I promise-well, most of them at least."
The Xexto boy smiled properly for the first time and Ezra was very happy he'd put in the effort to make it happen.
"I'm not a good swimmer." Seven admitted slowly, then he looked up thoughtfully into the trees, then back down to Ezra. "How are you at climbing?" he asked.
Ezra grinned.
"You sleep up here?" Ezra demanded, eyeing the branches swaying under their weight, and picking his way across.
Sleeping in the trees had never occurred to Ezra. He wasn't used to the thin perches and the branches moving under him. He could climb yes, but he didn't trust himself to sleep up here. Give him a flat rooftop or a grass field any day, but he didn't exactly have a lot of experience with trees.
"How come you don't fall out? What if you roll over in the night and…" Ezra made a squelching noise with his tongue. "And 'boom' goes the cannon?"
Seven grinned, and Ezra was thrilled his usual methods were working on the boy. Seven was essentially like all the other street kids Ezra had known growing up, and once had been, or still was. It was just nice to have someone to talk to again.
"I'll show you." Said Seven, climbing higher.
Ezra rechecked his pack and followed.
They found one of the tallest trees by the river and climbed so high that Ezra worried the tree would start to bend. It didn't of course, but nearly four levels high they did find a bough between two thick branches with lots of room between. Peering between his feet, Ezra couldn't even see the forest floor through the thick leaves, which was good news if another candidate past below and happened to look up.
Ezra watched from below as Seven scrambled deftly up the trunk. He pulled the green and brown roll off his back and unfurled it, revealing it to be a wide bulky tarp with steelum eyelets set into the seams. Seven laid it out across the two branches, a coil of cord was in the centre. The boy set about anchoring one end of the rope around the trunk and then weaving it through the eyelets and around the other branches. He did this to both sides, leaving one side open like an awning roof edge, but secured it to the branch above it.
Ezra stared at it, "You made ...a roof?" he asked dully. He almost started to say, 'You know I don't think it rains here…' but stopped, because he didn't know that, but thinking back to the purple mist, he hoped it didn't.
He looked at the branches underneath the tarp, none looked comfortable let alone like they could be slept on. "Where do we sit?"
Seven gave him a look that said Ezra was a bit slow, and then swung himself up another branch and climbed onto the tarp. It caved in the middle as the Xexto boy slowly sat in the centre, like it was a nest.
"It's a hammock!" Ezra cried in sudden appreciation, and rushed to climb up and see it from above. He inspected the rope and the tarp wrapped around the tree, "Will it hold us both?" he asked, eager to try to out.
Seven shrugged. "Only one way to find out. You don't look like you weigh a lot. Maybe leave the pack." He pointed a long finger at a knobby branch behind him. Ezra slipped the heavy backpack off and hung it over the short branch and made sure it stayed put before letting it go.
He turned and using a bendy branch above, tentatively put a foot onto the tarp.
The hammock displaced as he slowly allowed his foot to rest entirely on the surface. The rope tightened and showed the strain of the added weight, but there was no sign of breaking.
Ezra carefully let all his weight settle and crouched his knees to keep his balance.
He sat there for a moment, settling in the nest and taking in the bright tree canopy and the colourful view laid out before them. It was warm up here, and dry. His belly was full, and his pack was within reaching distance; full of all the fish he'd managed to catch that afternoon and wrapped in the plastic sheeting.
Seven had even pointed out a few edible fungi on their way up from the ground and Ezra had scraped them off the tree bark and filled the inner pouch of his bag.
He didn't feel as safe a he had in the grotto, but the familiar weight of vibroblade stuck in his boot was enough to settle any nerves. He was happy to trade the mud and darkness for the soft light at the top of the trees.
Out the corner of his eye he spied Seven was watching him closely. His expression was tense, like he was trying to hide a frown, or maybe a smile.
"You know," Ezra started in a casual tone, laying back against the branch and working his legs out from under him. "If there wasn't a whole bunch of murders out there racing around trying to kill us for sport, this would feel pretty homey."
It was no Ghost that was for sure, but Ezra felt the safest he'd felt in weeks up here in the dappled sunlight with his new partner. This was a galaxies difference to hiding in a damp cave. Everything seemed a little more manageable now he had company again. He cracked his knuckles and then folded his arms behind his head as he leant back against the tree, finally letting some of the tension melt from his bones.
Seven nodded slowly in agreement, settling in himself and looked out to the view between the leaves.
"Yeah, I know what you mean."
Sabine tightened the wiring at the connector points and rechecked the holo-prints. Judging by the partial images she had enlarged from the feed, she was on track.
She let out a breath. "Show me the schematics of that VR-4X Model, Chop."
Chopper hummed, but switched projections. The usually grumpy Astromech had behaved for the last several hours. Even though he knew there were more efficient uses of his capabilities, he dutifully switched between screens at Sabine's request, even offering his soldering arm when needed.
Ever since Sabine's horrifying discovery about the fodder collars, she had confined herself to her cabin at every available opportunity, forgoing her turns monitoring the holo-feed, though it was not in despair.
Since Ezra's disappearance, she had felt at a total loss as to what she could do to help;she felt useless to solve the encryption codes, useless to root out any better leads, useless to locate their missing member.
But now she had a purpose, she had a task she could focus on.
If they wanted to rescue Ezra from the Trials arena, they'd need a plan that would kept him in one piece.
Sabine's talent had always been in making bombs. She was the self titled explosive artist, a visionary engineer. Ketsu had barely needed to show her how to to build a basic circuit charge before Sabine had picked it up and was crafting her own explosive designs. Give her access to the barest materials and she could build a sky melting display of both power and beauty.
But deactivating one was another matter.
One of her own design or a standard imp donator? For certain! One she had time to pull apart to study? Of course.
But these collars were a entirely different matter.
Studying the designs, Sabine knew how she would have wired the charge, how She would have connected the fuse and how she would have connected the locking mechanisms to the power cells. But there was no way to be completely certain that her way of thinking followed that of the collars' engineers.
Trying recreate the collar bomb was like trying to draw what a Killiks's nest looked like underground with no way to know if you were right or wrong. If she made a single incorrect assumption... well, there would only be one chance to get it right.
There was a knock at her cabin door, and Sabine knew it was Zeb by the weight behind the sound.
Zeb admitted himself without waiting for a reply, entering carrying two cups of Caff. Edging around the orange astromech and abandoned prototypes strewn throughout the cabin. "You missed dinner." The Lasat noted gruffly.
Sabine did not put aside her data pad and wires, but accepted the beverage Zeb offered her. "I had a protein bar."
He grunted in response and eyed the mechanical mess and data strips strewn across the cabin floor. "I don't need to be worry'in about more than one of you."
"Then don't." Sabine told him shortly, then shook herself. She looked up from her work and tried for a smile. "You know how I get wrapped up in my projects. Don't worry."
"Made any progress?"
The crew hadn't need ask what her new project was.
She put aside the caff and held up the prototype in her hands. It looked like a mass of wiring and circuitry to everyone else, but to Sabine it was an infuriating puzzle.
All of a sudden her work seemed amateurish and astigmatic. How could she even dare risking such a project? She wanted to abort the whole idea.
"That bad huh?" Zeb asked, his tone unaccusatory.
She dumped the prototype on top of the pile of datastrips with a grunt of frustration, an action that might've made anyone else wince. She threw her back against her seat and kicked the edge of the desk as she swung her boots up.
Zeb frowned, unsure how to approach the tightly wound girl. Chopper shut down his projector and gave the girls boots a comforting tap.
"Bwapp bwap."
He understood her need to make progress.
Sabine folded her arms tightly over her chest plate, barely glancing at the Droid. "You better go and check if Hera needs you Chop. We aren't getting anything done here."
Chopper let his extendo arms drop and huffed as he wheeled out of the room, shaking his dome in disappointment.
Zeb grunted and pointing a thumb back over his shoulder. "He's been way too quiet for my liking lately. No pranks, no rude comments. Tch, I'm almost afraid to go into my bunk at this point." He chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.
Sabine glanced where the droid has disappeared round the door, then looked away. Her scowl softened. "He misses Ezra." she said, her voice small.
Zeb dropped the forced smile, and scratched the behind an ear awkwardly. "Yeah. What a pair right?"
Sabine didn't reply. Drawing her arms in tighter to her body. Zeb could already see the cogs moving in her head.
He drew himself up. "Look, blaming yourself for not having all the answers won't help anyone, least of all you." he reached over gave her shoulder a heavy pat.
"You don't let a challenge take you down. You're a Mandalorian!"
Sabine relented, lifting her chin and shooting him a wry smile from under her bangs. It was hard not to appreciate the awkward Lasat. The tension in the air dissolved, and Zeb visible relaxed.
He shrugged sheepishly at his own cliched words.
"You know if the kid were here…"
Sabine interrupted with a long suffering sigh. "He'd be in my hair telling me how amazing my work is and how…"
She was struck by an image of a sly smile and a brazen wink.
Sabine sniffed, sucking back a sob. Her eyes burned but she was sure it was due to missing so much sleep and staring at the holos for so long. Still, she scrubbed at her cheeks and heaved a deep breath to steady herself. But still she felt an emptiness in her chest.
"What if I can't do this? What do we do then?"
He had turned away a little while she had her moment, but looked at her now with a thoughtful expression, and then shrugged.
"We find another way. We always do... It's what the Kid would do. Don't give up yet." Zeb turned to leave, giving her space.
Sabine stared down at the circlet of carbon casing and wire for a long moment after he closed the door to her cabin.
She stood up, shook out her hands, took a deep breath and looked over the pile of hardware critically.
If she couldn't safely defuse the collars, she would just have to find another way around it.
Sabine wasn't going to give up.
R&R for good Karma and for Ghost Crew Emotional Support!