The First 24

The first of anything is always the hardest. Ezra knew that, what with all the firsts in his life; the first day on his own. The first time he stole. The first time he conned someone. The first time he ran, scared, from an angry figure. The first time he patched himself back together after getting hurt. The first time he feared for his life. . . And this first day as a member of the crew was proving just as nerve-racking as all those other firsts.

After finding Kanan and agreeing to join them, he'd been 'officially' introduced to the crew: Kanan, the secret Jedi and unspoken leader of the group. Hera, the pilot and owner of the Ghost. Chopper, Hera's astromech, who was the rudest, grouchiest droid Ezra had ever met. Zeb, whom Ezra had silent dubbed the group's 'muscle.' Sabine, the resident linguist, explosives expert, and artist – a point she'd made sure to stress.

Ezra had nodded along, but shifted uncomfortably when asked to introduce himself.

"Ezra. . .Bridger." he answered slowly, tugging at his hat as he thought about what else to add. "Um, street smart?"

There was an awkward pause and he rolled his eyes.

"Also thief, pickpocket, and amateur inventor," he added, flashing them a cocky grin as he primed his slingshot. He thought about adding 'survival expert' but held his tongue at the looks he was getting. "So. . .now what?"

"Now we leave," Kanan answered. Hera nodded and spun to face the controls as the rest of the crew left to do whatever it was they usually did.

Ezra let out a quiet sigh of relief and dropped into the seat next to Hera as she piloted them away from Lothal. He watched with mixed emotions as the his tower disappeared and absently rubbed his chest.

"Everything ok?"

He blinked and looked at the Twi'lek.

"Uh, yeah. Why?"

Hera stared at him and it saddened her to see that he seemed honestly confused by her question. "It's alright to be homesick."

Her comment earned her another confused look and she changed topics.

"So, what was that third reason?"

"Third reason?"

"That you agreed to warn them?" She saw Ezra stiffen slightly before forcefully relaxing.

"That was a while ago," He answered dismissively, waving a hand. "Besides, everyone's here and fine so what does it matter?

"I'm gonna explore the ship," he added, and left before Hera could question him further.

Ezra sighed as the cockpit door closed and ran a hand through his hair.

"Sorry," he whispered, "but that's personal."

Replacing his hat, Ezra headed off to re-explore the Ghost. Directly on either side of him were ramps leading down to the lower deck, but he ignored them. The only things down there were the cargo bays and engine room. He'd already spent more than enough time in the cargo holds and he wasn't about to go poking around an engine he wasn't familiar with. Not yet anyway.

A little further down the hall were the doors to the crews' quarters. He ignored those too and continued forward until he was face to rung with the ladder leading up to the dorsal gun. Ezra considered climbing up and enjoying the 360 view but the need to do something was becoming overwhelming. His fingers twitched and he hastily stuffed them in his pockets, fiddling with a few of the many small pieces he had hidden away as he continued on.

His anxiousness was a holdover from years of surviving solely based on the principle of 'do or die.' It sometimes felt like his whole life had been a constant struggle to stay alive. Even during his 'down time,' when he wasn't finding or stealing food, he was messing with stuff, trying to fix or make something that would help him.

He wandered through the common room with its dining table that doubled as a holoprojector and opened the few doors. One was a bathroom and the other a locker. He didn't bother opening the closet; he'd seen all he needed to when Zeb had thrown him inside. The only other door was the one that lead to the galley. He poked through the cupboards and cabinets, and marveled at the amount of food they had.

Safety, security, the knowledge that there would was food to eat eat – that there would be something to eat the next day, were foreign concepts to him.

Ezra shuddered and forcefully shut the cupboard door before he caved to the urge to stuff his pack and run. He left the room, hands firmly in his pockets and continued to wander the ship until Kanan found him and directed him to his cabin.

For one heart stopping second Ezra thought he was being lead to Kanan's room, and the idea that they would be rooming together flashed through his mind with a surprising amount of excitement. But the room they stopped at was different.

"You'll be rooming with Zeb."

"'K." Ezra was careful to keep his voice light and carefree, even as a wave of bitter disappointment rose and he was left to stand alone. Swallowing with surprising difficulty he made his way into the room.

Stuff was scattered about, not messily, in fact it looked pretty organized. The objects resting on the table, the papers tacked to the walls, even the pile of half folded clothes in the corner gave the place a certain feeling. It felt lived in. It felt like someone's home. And he felt like an intruder.

His eyes landed on the only thing untouched, the upper bunk.

"Guess that's mine." He chucked his bag onto it and began making his way over. A few steps in the door opened behind him. Ezra spun around, heart hammering and body tensed to run as if he'd been caught swiping credits. Zeb stood in the doorway, staring at him.

Grumbling under his breath, Zeb marched over. The kid shifted, looking a second from bolting, and he ground his teeth together. This wasn't going to be easy and of course the kid just had to make it harder!

"Look, ki – Ezra," he began. "I'm. . ."

"What was that?" Ezra asked, unable to hear what Zeb had muttered.

Zeb mumbled something.

"What?"

"Sorry!"

Ezra flinched back as if expecting a hit and Zeb winced internally. Given all that had happened between them he couldn't blame the kid for his reaction. Taking a deep breath he continued in a slightly softer voice.

"Sorry for – for letting you get grabbed and. . .leaving you."

Ezra's head swam as he tried to process what was happening.

'An apology? Why? A trick? A trap? No! No, don't think like that!' He gave himself a mental shake.

"It's fine. You guys came back an –"

"I tried to convince them not to. I told them that you were. . . "

Ezra froze, the rest of what Zeb said going unheard. He'd known, the same way he'd known the holocron was a test, but to hear it admitted? It felt as if he'd been stabbed in the chest. He would have preferred it to the sharp pain twisting inside him. Taking a shaky breath, he forced down painful and confusing feelings.

". . . wouldn't do anything to a kid and–"

"You came back," Ezra repeated, cutting Zeb off. "Even if you didn't want to."

Zeb shifted uncomfortably.

"And more importantly you gave me my hat back. So – so yeah. I forgive you. Just don't ever touch my hat again!"

"Whatever, kid." The words were automatic, but Zeb couldn't help but smile a little as he made his way to his bed. The tension in the room was gone along with that irritating weight of guilt and all he wanted to do was sleep. "Bottom bunk's mine. Don't touch my stuff. Don't wake me up. Those are the rules. Break 'em and I end you."

It was a half – hearted warning at best, but he couldn't work up any real animosity. Not now anyway. He'd threaten the kid properly tomorrow.

"Yeah, yeah." Ezra muttered, rolling his eyes and climbing up into his bunk. He slipped off his shoes, shin guard, and knee pad and shoved them and his pack into the ledge hollowed out in the wall next to him and lay down. No blanket, no pillows, a wall to his left, a short drop on his right, and the ceiling only a few feet above his head.

He shifted, rolling so his back was to the wall, and moved himself away from the edge. Everything about this was strange, foreign, absolutely nothing familiar. Nothing except. . .

Ezra tensed at movement below him, relaxing slowly as the sound of steady breathing filled the room. His eyes drifted shut. It was oddly comforting, listening to someone sleep, the knowledge that he wasn't alone, that someone was there. He'd forgotten how much he missed it. The only break from loneliness the past few years had been when that person had made their presence known.

Ezra's eyes shot open and stared unseeingly at the ceiling above him. His body felt heavy, weighed down with the desire for sleep, but more pressing was the need to talk to that person. He listened.

It sounded like Zeb was asleep, but he didn't know how heavy a sleeper he was. Biting his lip, Ezra sat up and slowly dropped to the floor, freezing the instant he landed. No change in Zeb's breathing.

Silent as a shadow he made his way to the door he hoped lead to the bathroom and slipped inside. Pulling out a small pen light, he looked around. A shower, a toilet, and a sink all crammed together in a space only slightly larger than the one in his tower. But just like in his tower there was a vent right in the middle of the ceiling.

Climbing onto the sink he pried it open and climbed inside, his light clenched between his teeth. He followed the vent until it widened into a small area meant for utility maintenance. Judging by the noise level he was right next to the engines.

'Perfect,' he thought, sitting up and pulling a small device from his pocket. 'Given the amount of dust no one's been here in ages and with the engine right there no one will be able to hear me.'

He set the almost circular object down and pressed a button. A picture flickered into view and he smiled, his first real one all day.

"Hey, it's me again. You're never going to believe what's happened–"