An bit of an interlude introducing Ezra's parents a little bit more than the previous chapter and fleshing the story out a little more than just following Ezra around. I hope y'all enjoy!
The cold of space cut through the thick fabrics of their enviro-suits, biting the tips of their fingers, old bones and joints aching fiercely, breath a blinding fog against the darkly tinted glass of their respirator helmet. The empire hadst seen any reason to install heaters in their suits, never had save for the rich. But while the environmental suits were ages old, this was here, this was now. They were older, one more so than the other, but shucking off their mutual retirement was a necessity.
Their daughter, their only child, had been stolen by the very hands they had trusted to guide her; to heal her body. The decades had passed at an agonizing pace, and, with it, their hope. The house that had been occupied by the family unit for so long, so full of life and well-tended by hands that had refused to be idle despite the growing stiffness in the joints, now lay decrepit and empty. No one was present to upkeep the softly glowing lamps hanging low from the weepy tree branches that .brushed the dark soil. The crops would have been eaten by the local plant and animal life, and, Vzahn was sure of it, the homestead had once again been claimed by what was natural. She could see the great trees surrounding the little house, branches curling lovingly against the unnatural materials used in the house's construction. There was always such a stark difference between the slowness of retired life to the all-consuming blur of a career in the Hub. Nature was like that; slow and creeping, serene, but so alive. Maybe that was why Lebekk and Vzahn had loved it so much there.
It was so different from their respective home planets, each on both sides of the extreme. One, so blisteringly hot that even Vzahn's fathers with their age-thickened scales had been forced to seek shelter from the noonday sun. At least her parents had treated her with fondness, if not love. Vzahn thought them too old and gruff for that. Lebekk's mother had cast him out into the bitter and blizzardy snow drifts because he had been small. That was the crux of the sickness in the Empire, wasn't it? Part of it was leaving a child to die simply because of their size, no matter their health or how desperately they had asked you for love. But there was so much more wrong, and Vzahn could only dream of another reality where she had turned the energy rifle in her hands on her commander or even Emperor Zarkon himself.
Lebekk had nearly erased much of his memory on his own planet. But he did remember how cold it was, the harshness of the terrain and the people. He'd been a runt, and his explosive nature had gotten him dumped out of the safety of the warm domicile into the bleak atmosphere of the dead planet he was too young to flee from. He'd run as fast as his shorter legs could carry him, sinking into the snow, refusing to cry out when he had fallen particularly deeply. He'd made it to another village eventually, thin clothes soaked through and nearly half of his fingers and toes bitten through with frostbite. He wasn't in possession of a full set of twenty.
Neither had grown up seeing any sort of the temperate lifestyle other colonies were privileged with. The novelty of the lush forest world they'd begun a life on had never faded. Vzahn had loved the sway of the trees and calm warmth that sunk into your bones instead of an unbearably heat that beat at you until you were burned to a crisp. Lebekk had loved the life that had rang in every bit of the land from the rich reds of the rivers to the deep blues of the grass and the glow of the local fauna. They'd made sure their cub had wanted for none of the things they had never had. Stability and the true love of parents who would take their child as they came, nothing more, nothing less.
When Ezra had been small, she'd thought that the trees were a smaller sky and that the blanket beyond was just a bigger sky that spaceships could fly in. She'd dream peacefully of distant planets and nights much like the ones she knew at home; quiet, serene, and warm. The little cub would come bounding down the stairs, limbs akimbo, small hands rubbing the sleep out of her eyes as she tried to tell her mama and papa about the dream she had the night before, clumsy tongue stumbling and hissing out the words in broken Common. The old Galran wondered now, whether or not Ezra still dreamed at all. Vzahn and Lebekk both were aware of what happened to those never seen again. The thought of it gave the veteran pause as a choke developed in her throat.
Lebekk, always so attentive and aware, slipped his broad palm into her thin one and squeezed. Her face was difficult to see through the tinted glass of the helm visor, but it wouldn't have helped anyway. Lebekk only came up to his mate's lower chest plating. H didn't have to look at her to know what she was thinking. They'd been a unit for many centuries past, and nothing could tear them apart now. The crimes of the Empire would finally have their reckoning and they would have their cub again.
She was grown, had been for centuries, but when Lebekk looked at pictures of Ezra, he couldn't help but see her as she was in centuries past. A gamine kid with a loud mouth, crooked smile, fast fists, and a hot temper. She hadn't suffered fools even when she had first begun her academic years, and Lebekk had lost count of how many times he and Vzahn had been called by the Counselors praising their Cub's good instincts and righteous temper, but asking that they teach her how to control herself and that it was odd that such reserved parents had such a rambunctious child. Then, that bright-eyed look she had when she was accepted into the Military Academy. She'd been so proud, "I'll show you what I can do, Papa! I hope I exceed all your expectations!" He'd laughed and ruffled her mane, reaching up a little higher than he would have liked, instead of telling her that there was nothing to prove. She'd grown up, but she had still been so young.
He was already proud of her, she didn't have to do this. He and Vzahn loved her...they should have never let her go. But, it was too late. She'd gotten her stubborn mind onto it, and like the damn hound of a father she had, she'd never let go. Vzahn, at least, knew when to back off, to regroup. But, no. Both Lebekk and Ezra jumped headlong into any task given to them, attacking its challenges with unceasing vigor and passion, even if they hated it.
Something that the old Galrans shared, however, was that they had both been too trusting of their former superiors.
That was why Lebekk had flown he and his mate nearly into the center of a dying star in between two black holes. The empire would fall, and the rebellion of The Blades of Marmora would prevail. Vzahn had not been a High Commander without reason, and had only retired to be with her family as she aged in the slow way that her all her subspecies did. Lebekk had followed because he had grown bored with playing in the shadows.
Every base that was destroyed, every competent commander killed in the night, every spy implemented into the homogeneous sea of fodder, was a step closer to either finding their daughter alive or to her vengeance. And the unit would not fail. They had breathed the Galran ideology for centuries; nothing would stop them save triumph or death.