Fighter Flight: "It's his fault!"

"Ok. Oooh. Kaaay." Ezra cracked his knuckles and stretched out his arms. He took a deep breath and flexed his fingers, swallowing nervously. He glanced around but the only one other person there was Chopper, who stood silently, optic scanner blinking at him. Ezra exhaled slowly.

"Ok, you can do this." Ezra swallowed and closed his eyes, concentrating. He kept his hand outstretched and his heart thudded erratically at the sound of something rattling. The rattling stopped and he opened on eye. The bowl he'd been focusing on was hovering on inch or so above the table. "Yes!"

"Waah-waah," Chopper taunted and shifted so Ezra could see him holding up the bowl. That person's presence quivered with amusement and Ezra scowled, cheeks flushing as the robot laughed.

"Very funny. But I don't need your help."

Chopper grumbled angrily and threw the bowl of yet to be eaten cereal at Ezra, who jerked back reflexively and smacked the bowl away.

"Chopper," Ezra growled. The droid darted out of the galley. "Come back here you rolling junk pile!"

Ezra ran after him. It had been over a week since his Jedi training had begun and yet to duplicate anything even close to what he'd done when he'd rescued Zeb. He was frustrated and getting back at Chopper for being a nuisance was welcome outlet. Ezra chased after Chopper until a flash of color distracted him and he backtracked.

"Oh, uh, hey, Sabine." He said, peaking around her open door. "I see you're, uh, painting. . .stuff"

He winced and leaned against the door frame. He could practically hear that person laughing at him.

"Well, nothing gets past you, kid," Sabine sighed, rolling her eyes.

Ezra grimaced and picked at the wall. Definitely time to redeem himself.

"You know, if you ever need a little inspiration–" he trailed off suggestively.

"Yeah," Sabine scoffed. "Then I'll be sure to look elsewhere."

Ezra's shoulders drooped slightly, but before he could try again a familiar grumble sounded behind him. He glanced back in time to see the droid enter his room

"Chopper! Stay out of my room!" He half turned to follow, paused and turned back to Sabine. "Uh – gotta go!"

Sabine shook her head and continued painting as Ezra vanished after Chopper. Ezra stomped into his room, looking for Chopper. He hesitated as his eyes landed on the figure occupying the lower bunk.

"Kid," Zeb warned lowly, eyes still firmly shut. "You wake me, you die."

Ezra huffed through his nose. 'That makes 11 death threats this week. And aren't you already awake if you're tal–"

A sharp shock jolted through him and whipped around. Chopper grunted a laugh, his taser crackling, and shot a ball of electricity at him. Ezra ducked the crackling sphere. Behind him Zeb let out a muffled grunt followed by a yelp as he was shocked awake.

Ezra snickered as Zeb twitched and tumbled off his bunk, though his laughter vanished as Zeb picked himself up.

"It's his fault!" He pointed to Chopper who whirred and grumbled.

"I don't care," Zeb grumbled, fists clenching. The low growling and his slightly smoking body made him look twice as intimidating as usual. "I'm crushing you both."

Ezra backed away, throwing a dirty look at Chopper as the droid rolled out of the room. He glanced back at Zeb. Being the sole focus of the Lasat's wrath was not a good thing. Time to do what he did best: bluff his way out with as much false bravado as he could muster.

"That's Lasat gratitude for you. All I did was save your life from an Imperial Agent." He kept a cocky tone and a causal smile even as Zeb raised a fist. "Or did that slip your mind?"

Zeb lowered his fist.

"How could it?" Zeb sighed. "You remind me every 23 seconds."

He turned back to his bunk and Ezra's smirk became a little more confident.

"You know, Zeb," Ezra began, following Zeb. "In some places when a man owes you his life, he's your servant forever."

"Well, this isn't someplace. It's my place." Zeb ducked back onto his bunk. "So get out."

"Sorry, roomie. No deal." Ezra climbed onto his bunk, humming happily. There was creak and he had just enough time for the thought of 'Oh this!' to pass through his head and then he was falling. As soon as his bed stopped falling he leapt up and bolted out of the room as Zeb threw the heavy bunk off him with a snarl.

"It's not my fault," he shouted over his shoulder as Zeb chased after him, twice as angry as he'd been before.

"Tell it to my fist!" Zeb shouted back, swiping at Ezra, who ducked even though he was out of range and increased his speed.

Down the corridor, past the nose gun, slide down the ladder to the loading bay.

Ezra glanced behind him as he made his way to the smaller holding bay where he could double back, or just plain hide in, an air duct until Zeb cooled down.

"Whoa!" He faced forward and jerked to a stop in time to avoid running onto Kanan.

Kanan looked down at the boy, but before he could ask why the kid looked so nervous Zeb appeared and launched himself off the observation deck. Kanan jerked out of the way as Zeb crashed into Ezra, knocking down the crates he'd just stacked. A shifting mass of limbs rolled around on the ground in front of him and Kanan sighed as the blur of movement slowed to reveal Zeb pinning Ezra to the floor.

The sound of a very annoyed throat being cleared caused all three males to pause and look up. Hera stared down at them, lips pressed in a thin, disapproving line.

"It's his fault!" Zeb and Ezra shouted, and glanced guiltily up at the pilot.

If she wasn't so annoyed Hera might have found their identical actions amusing, as it was. . .

The ship landed with a bump a tad rougher than normal, as if the ship shared Hera's annoyance.

"My fault?" Zeb stood up. "This is your fault."

"Don't go blaming this on me." Ezra snapped back, standing up and shoving an accusatory finger in Zeb's face.

"Enough!" Hera cut in sharply, climbing down into the bay. "This is my ship you're wrecking and I want you off it."

She strode over to a panel and punched a button. The bay door behind her opened.

"Hera, be reasonable," Zeb pleaded.

"Come on," Ezra shoved Zeb out of the way. "You know what he's like."

Hera responded by presenting them with a datapad.

"Uh," Ezra took it numbly. "What's this?"

"A market list." Hera answered, hands on her hips as she silently dared them to oppose her. "The town of Kothal's two klicks to the south and I'm sending you both on a supply run."

"With him?" Zeb and Ezra spat, glaring at each other.

"With each other." Hera corrected. "Oh, and don't even think about coming back with at least one meiloorun fruit. Clear?"

"Clear." They answered sullenly and trudged past her. They made it all of two steps before they started shoving and pushing each other.

Kanan watched them go with a sigh and moved to stand by Hera.

"How do you expect them to find meiloorun on Lothal?" he asked. Hera eyed the slowly shrinking figures and smiled slightly.

Ezra kept half a step behind Zeb as they walked along. He glanced up at the sky, cloudy and grey.

'Great, even the sky is moody,' he thought and snuck a peak at his glowering companion. He sighed and shoved his hands farther into his pockets.

This was all Chopper's fault! If the stupid, old rust bucket had just left him alone to practice, something he was supposed to be doing, none of this would have happened. And Ezra was almost certain Chopper was somehow to blame for his bunk coming loose. He wasn't that heavy after all. He glared at the plains.

He fingered the hat in his pocket, wishing he could pull it out and wear it but it had a hole in it he needed to patch up and wearing it would only make it bigger. He bit his lip and thought about what that person would say if they were here. He frowned.

Ok, so maybe this was sort of, ever so slightly, his fault. If he'd just left Zeb alone. . . But then again, Zeb had a shorter temper than a wet tooka. Ok, so maybe he'd over done it with the whole 'I saved your life' thing, but it had been the only thing that had stopped Zeb from killing, or at least seriously maiming, him after Ezra'd pranked him and rule #8 said "if something works, use it 'til it don't."

Ezra sighed quietly and glanced at the still sour looking Lasat and then at the far off town.

'This is going to be a looooong day.'

Ezra wandered down the road. Outwardly he looked calm, laidback, even happy, but inside he was panicking. He'd checked every other street and this was the last one. There had to be a meiloorun here, there had to be!

While he didn't think Hera would refuse to take him and Zeb back if they couldn't find one, he couldn't shake the whisper of doubt. A whisper that was growing louder and louder the longer he looked for the stupid fruit.

He glanced at a couple stalls.

'No meiloorun, no meiloorun, no meilooruns.'

Hera would understand if they couldn't find one, right? He knew Zeb would have no problem announcing it had been Ezra's job to find one and that he'd failed.

Another few steps, another few stalls, and no meilooruns.

Zeb would be allowed back for sure. He was a valued member. They were used to him, respected him, but Ezra?

'No meilooruns, no meilooruns, still no meilooruns.'

Ezra had only been with a couple weeks, barely a month. Yeah, Hera was nice and, yes, Kanan was training him, but what's to say they wouldn't get rid of him if he couldn't pull his weight? If they thought he wasn't worth the trouble?

'Mi Ceilo.'

Ezra jumped at the exasperated sigh and instinctively looked around. He knew that tone and half expected to see that person standing in front of him with a look of amused irritation on their face as they told him he was overreacting, again!

Ezra let out a long, slow breath. Yeah, he was overreacting. If he couldn't find the stupid fruit, then he couldn't find the stupid fruit. He fingered the hat in his pocket.

"Ezra? Is that Ezra Bridger?"

He stopped at the sound of his name and warily turned toward the voice. His eyes met those of an old man standing behind a beat up booth. "Mr. Sumar?"

The old man smiled and chuckled as he waved him over.

"Ezra. Oh, look how you've grown," Sumar sighed in a grandfatherly kind of way. "Here, have a jogan."

"Thanks." Ezra rolled the fruit between his fingers. "Don't suppose you have any meilooruns?"

"Meilooruns?" Sumar laughed. "Meilooruns don't grow on Lothal."

"They don't?" Ezra repeated, taken aback. If that was true – he smacked himself on the forehead. "No. Of course they don't."

"I suppose you could find on off world importer, but it'd cost you."

"Right." Ezra answered distractedly and shoved the fruit into a pocket and adjusted his pack. "Well, great seeing you again."

He left before the man could reply. While Sumar was one of the few people from his past that had always been genuinely kind and caring, Ezra didn't want to linger and risk getting drawn into a conversation that could lead to awkward questions. As far as Ezra knew Sumar knew his parents had been taken by the Empire, but didn't know why or that Ezra'd been taking care of himself the past few years. And Ezra didn't want to tell him. He didn't want to hear what Sumar would say or do. He was glad, now, that he'd had to remove his hat. He definitely didn't want to explain why he was wearing it and not – not that person.

Spotting stormtroopers ahead and ducked behind a stand. They passed him by and he primed his slingshot, but lowered his hands as the groups officer called out.

"You there. Sumar! Have you changed your mind?"

"No," Sumar answered immediately, crossing his arms and glaring at the officer. "I told you, I'm not selling my farm."

"Very well," the Imperial replied and walked away.

Ezra frowned, an uneasy feeling settling into his stomach. Imperials didn't give up that easily and he'd never known one to take 'no' so well. He kept his eyes on the troopers as he left his hiding spot and promptly ran into Zeb.

"I got everything but the meilooruns," Zeb informed him, adjusting his grip on the cases tucked under his arms. "Any luck?"

"No," Ezra sighed. "And I don't think Hera meant for us to have luck."

"Well, someone has to be selling those things. Here, take this." He dropped one of the cases and Ezra scrambled to catch it. "I'll go find one."

"Seriously?" Ezra strained to heft the case above his knees. "You want me to carry your supplies after saving your life?"

Zeb turned and slammed a hand down on the case. Ezra's knees buckled slightly and he hastily backed up as Zeb advanced growling out a word with every step he took. "Stop. Saying you saved my life."

Ezra stumbled back until he crashed into something. At Zeb's surprised look he glanced over his shoulder to see what he'd hit.

"Meilooruns!" They cried.

"Which vendor do they belong to?"

"This one." Ezra shoved the case back at Zeb and led the way.

"How much for the whole crate?" Zeb asked the Rodian vendor, nodding his head toward the fruit. The Rodian glanced at them

"I'm sorry," he said, lowering his datapad. "They're already sold."

"Well, maybe we can buy one from–" The sound of a lid being slammed shut cut Ezra off and all three looked over to see a stormtrooper walking off with the crate of meilooruns.

"From the Empire?" the Rodian snorted. "Yeah, good luck."

Ezra eyed the trooper and smirked.

"Come one." He called to Zeb, already dashing off. Zeb looked after him and sighed.

'Kid's gonna get us arrested. Or shot,' he thought, but tightened his grip on the supplies and followed.

Ducking behind a stack of crates Ezra watched the trooper places the meilooruns on the top of a transport vehicle.

"What are you smiling about?" Zeb asked warily.

"The obvious answer to our problem." Ezra pointed and Zeb followed the finger to the crate. On top of an Imperial transporter. And guarded by stormtroopers. He groaned and pushed the kid down out of sight.

"No."

"Hey, it's not like we've never stolen from the Empire before."

"Right," Zeb scoffed. "So what's the plan, kid? Gonna use the Force?"

"Maybe," Ezra snapped. "Sure. Why not?"

He leaned around the crate and eyed his target. He had just been planning on sneaking over and taking it, but since Zeb had suggested it, why not use the Force?

He closed his eyes and reached out with his senses, focusing on his target and what he wanted to happen. Keeping his eyes open so he could see the target seemed like a better idea and smarted idea in Ezra's opinion, but this is what Kanan had told him to do. Something about fewer distractions.

Zeb sucked in a breath as the lid to the crate wobbled and glanced at the boy.

Ezra gritted his teeth. This was hard, harder than he'd thought it'd be, and much harder than moving random objects around Kanan's room.

The connection broke and his eyes snapped open in time to see a stormtrooper leaning over the crate pressing the lid firmly down. A wave of disappointment washed through him. Next to him Zeb chuckled and smacked him on the back.

"We should go," Zeb said softly, still chuckling as he picked up the supply cases.

"You go." Ezra stood up. "I'm getting what we came for."

"Wait, kid–" Zeb made to pull Ezra back, but the kid was already out of reach. He groaned and smacked a fist down on one of the crates as he watched Ezra slip toward the transport. He was rather surprised at how good he was. If Zeb hadn't known he was there he probably wouldn't have seen him.

Ezra kept to the shadows, carefully timed distractions in the form of tossed rocks gave him the time he needed to dash the last distance to the transport. Climbing up was easy, they might as well have left a ladder. He reached the crate and slipped his pack off one shoulder as he glanced around, all troopers still busy.

Was this foolish? Yes. Stupid? Incredibly, but pride and insecurity were egging him on.

He lifted the lid and grabbed a fruit, dropping it his bag and making his way back to the ground. While he'd love to gloat, rule# 6 clearly stated "never hang around, that's how you got caught."

Movement grabbed his attention and snapped his head around, pressing himself against the transport. Zeb was waving at him, gesturing to something he couldn't see.

"What?" Ezra mouthed, unconsciously leaning forward into the light.

"You there!"

Ezra jumped and spun around. Three troopers were standing right there, blasters raised and, by the humming, ready to shoot.

'Parc! Spotted!'

"Don't shoot!" Ezra raised his hands and stepped completely out of the shadows, mind racing for a way to talk himself out of this. "I was just–"

A crate sailed through the air and crashed into the troopers.

"Run!" Zeb shouted. Ezra didn't need the order, his feet were already moving.

"Stop them!" A voice shouted behind him as he rounded a corner.

"You made me loose the rest of the supplies!" Zeb huffed, keeping pace beside Ezra. "At least we're even."

"Even? Please," Ezra scoffed. "I had the whole situation under control."

Zeb growled in frustration and grabbed Ezra by the back pack. "Come here!"

"Ya know," Ezra whispered as Zeb pulled him up a wall. "If you hadn't panicked I would have been able to talk my way out and we'd still have the supplies."

"You would have been shot," Zeb said bluntly.

"I've talked my way out or worse, you–"

"Quiet, brat," Zeb hissed, readjusting his grip on Ezra as a couple of troopers appeared in the alley below them.

'Rule# 9 "no one ever looks up,"' Ezra thought dryly as the troopers looked everywhere but where they were.

Zeb grunted and that was the only warning Ezra got before he was thrown up onto the building. He bit his tongue to keep from shouting out in surprise and quickly scrambled around. Zeb was slowly making his way up the wall but below him the stormtroopers had finally spotted him and opened fire.

Cursing under his breath, Ezra returned fire. Unfortunately, his slingshot lacked the power to do more than irritate the troopers and cause their aim to worsen.

"Hurry!" Ezra shouted, ducking down to avoid a jet of red light. He popped back up in time to see Zeb landing on the two troopers.

"Zeb!" Ezra called, unsure what he should do.

"Just keep going," Zeb yelled up at him. "I'll catch up to you."

'No, no, no!' Ezra pounded a fist onto the roof as he watched Zeb disappear and more troopers appeared. 'Rule # 12 said "when working together avoid splitting up unless part of a plan, and absolutely never in unfamiliar territory."'

If that person was here they'd be smacking him upside the head, as it were they weren't here and Zeb obviously didn't know the rules. He was on his own. Again.

He took off, not waiting to see if he'd been spotted. Though judging by the shouts and sound of blaster fire at least one stormtrooper had seen him. Grinding his teeth, he jumped to a new roof.

He wasn't sure who he was madder at: Chopper for getting him kicked off the ship, Zeb for getting him chased by stormtroopers, or himself for getting into this situation in the first place. The one thing he was sure of was–

'This is all his fault!'