Week I - by Mira_Jade

1. Adamant

My name is Byma Toc. I was sent to Tatooine at the instruction of Master Windu. He said I was to seek out the family Lars and inquire on the death of Shmi Skywalker and its aftermath. He knew that Padawan Skywalker had returned to the desert world in haste and fear.

The Lars family was of no direct assistance. I sensed that they were hiding something but I did not press them aggressively. The beings in Mos Eiesly cantina were much more forthcoming. If my information is correct, Skywalker will bear closer scrutiny, if not banishment from the order

2. Abide

As I stepped into the cantina at Mos Eisley, the stench hit my nostrils like fresh Bantha dung. Sweat, alcohol, filth, dirt, engine oil, and many more multi-species body odors than I could count. This was the part of the job that I both loved and hated. I love gathering facts, or investigating as some call it. In another life I may have been in local law enforcement. However, this life was given to me by the Force. It abides. As do I. The part of the job I hate is having to go places I would never go, if I were not sent. By the Force.

3. Afield

It happens more often than you might think. Chasing down dubious Jedi, I mean. We are often accused of being sanctimonious government puppets, do-gooders, pious judges of the masses, and many more colorful names associated with the our public image. However, the further a Jedi gets from the core and his accountability, the more susceptible a being may be to the darkside. That's were I come in. The council sends me to pick up the pieces of questionable Jedi activities. It is not a popular job, but someone has to do it; and well. That is me. It the Jedi were Cor-Sec, I would be Internal Affairs.

4. Aghast

"Women...and children?" Master Windu inquired to be sure of my words. His hands were clasped firmly behind his back. I could see the white of his flesh due to the intense pressure.

“Yes, Master,” I replied, solemnly. “The slaughter of the Tusken village is common knowledge among the rabble who inhabit the spaceport. The most damning evidence is that the bodies were-”

“Yes, Byma, you already told me about the lightsaber burns? Are you so eager to see one of our own condemned?”

“I have done what you asked, Master,” I answered, soberly. “The next steps are for you and the Council to decided.”

As a I left his chamber, I could hear Master Windu say, under his breath: "Women and children.”

5. Aforetime

I bet you are wondering how I got this job. This job no one in their right Jedi mind would want. Well, the answer is quite simple. I was a dirty Jedi. Not Sithly like Skywalker is turning out to be, but I was materialistic. Jedi are not supposed to want things. I wanted nice things. Designer clothing, high end accessories, secret getaways in the outer and inner rim. How did I afford such a lavish secret life? I mentioned the outer rim, right? Hutts and other nasty types. Nothing serious. Some smuggling here, kidnapping there, and worst of all, I stole stuff. Big stuff. Expensive stuff. Jedi skills can get one in and out of the tightest of spots time and again. Until the time it doesn't and Master Windu blasts you with his furious anger and flips you like a Correllian flapjack.

 

That’s really cool. I love the character and definitely want more. Seeing as well two is already up that’ll be soon right? please???


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I bet your character has a yellow light sabre, right? Because those folk are a different type of Jedi knights. The Cassian Andor type.

 

Superb connecting all the prompts together and the OC's voice is clear and insightful. Byma's motivations and conclusions are interesting.

 

Oh, what an interesting character! I love how the last drabble kind of flipped my perceptions of Byma that had been built up over the last four. A Jedi who went "bad" not by being aggressive or anything like that but using their powers in dishonest ways. And then reformed -- and that character dynamic and history with Windu is really fascinating too!

 

A very interesting character being an internal affairs Jedi being 'bad'

 

@Kit': Thanks for such an enthusiastic response, Kit'. I really appreciate it. I hope this new set keeps you coming back.
@AzureAngel2: Perhaps, he does. I had not thought about that. It does seem to fit my vision of him, though. He is definitely a different kind of Jedi.
@WarmNyota_SweetAyesha: Thank you, Nyota. Byma is pragmatic and a Jack Webb type. Just the facts, Ma'am. He does not like what he has learned about Anakin and his feelings are clear on the subject.
@Kahara: What an insightful comment. Thank you. what you wrote is very much how I see the character. I'm giving more back ground in this set, but, there will be more of present Byma Toc to come.
@earlybird-obi-wan: Nice to see you, ealybird! I appreciate your comments.
@Mira_Jade: Hi Mira! So good to see you! Aghast was my favorite of the group because it adds a bit of AU to the events of AOTC. If Windu knew about Anakin's actions on Tatooine, things might have gone differently. As for Aforetime, I did flip things a bit after introducing a rather austere investigator, he turned to have some smooth criminal in him. I hope you like the next set.

A/N: These 'drabbles' are a bit thick. I have always been a purest about the 100 words, but given the freedom we have in this challenge, I padded them a bit. I will probably go vary my sets using the traditional and the new rules. Enjoy!


Week II - by Briannakin

6. Raid

When I said Master Windu flipped me, I was not only referring to his unfriendly ultimatum, but also to the beginning of my own personal, spiritual revival. To say that I had lost my way was an understatement. Though my Jedi facade was firmly in place, I was a self absorbed pleasure seeker deep down and had done a pretty good job of hiding it until the all knowing Eye of Windu fell on me as well as a ton of duracrete bricks. Ancient texts have referred to 'sting operations' and 'raids' as catching the criminal red handed by surprise, or setting up a situation that lures the criminal into an act that would seal their fate. That's what Master Windu did. Both of them.


7. Pirate

“Are you a pirate?” the disembodied voice asked from the darkness. I knew the voice. It as unmistakable. I was sitting on a durasteel chair in a dark cell, the only light illuminating me and nothing else. I reached out with the Force, but could feel next to nothing. “I asked if you were a pirate?”

“No,” I said, into the darkness. “I am not a pirate.”

“Then why are you acting like one?” the voice said, sternly.

“I'm not sure I understand,” I said, groping for his meaning.

“Are you a smart Jedi or a dim one, Byma Toc?” he said, directly.

“Given the circumstances, I would say pretty dim,” I replied, honestly.

“I would agree with that assessment,” the voice said, pointedly. “Do you need a definition? Let me give you one. A being whom attacks other vessels, in space, with the intent of stealing their cargo and, prehaps their ship. Are you a pirate?”

“Yes, Master,” I said, amending my previous statement. "Piracy is one of the means by which I supported my lifestyle.”


8. Smuggle


“Your lifestyle is what we are talking about,” said Master Windu as he emerged from the shadows and towered above me. Though not restrained, I remained seated. I was already found out and I had no intention of fighting the man. I had not weapon and even if I did, it would be suicide.

“Yes, Master,” I replied, plainly.

“Tell me about how you were seduced by the Dark Side?” Windu demanded.

"It's pretty simple, Master,” I said, earnestly. “I was sent to track some smugglers, who were using the Firellian capital spaceports to transfer their goods. They were not the brightest lumens in the pack, but they had credits. They asked me to turn a blind eye to their dealings in exchange for a pay off. I accepted the payoff. And the next one and the next one. It became pretty easy to make credits. From time to time, I would use the Force to persuade them to give me more than they planned. Those small fish opened the door to bigger fish and more credits."

“A. Jedi. Should. Not. Crave. These. THINGS!” Master Windu bellowed as he moved to my right and circled my chair.

"Yes, Master, I know. I resisted the urge as long as I could.”


9. Maraud


“Oh, You resisted?” Master Windu said, disbelievingly. “I find that very hard to believe. Did you tell them you didn't want their credits?”

“No, Master,” I replied, honestly. “When the opportunity arose, I took it. My resistance was in not seeking out the opportunities.”

“So, you were already inclined to break the code?” Windu pressed.

“Yes, Master, but I was not active-”

“Well, thank the Force that Byma Toc took the passive route to the Dark Side! He was not looking for trouble! But when it found him, he welcomed it with open arms. Is that what you are telling me, Knight Toc? Not a marauder, but an opportunist?”

I lowered my head, breaking contact with his blazing eyes. “Yes, Master.”


10. Steal


Master Windu continued to circle me, his hands, clasped behind his back as they often were. “You are a thief, Toc! Do you know why?”

“Because I have stolen to serve myself,” I answered.

“Yes, you have stolen from the very beings we are pledged to serve. Even more, you have stolen from the Force! Do you know why? Don't Answer! Let me tell you. You have stolen from the Force the opportunity to do good through you.”

“I have still done good,” I rebutted, weakly.

“Oh, you have?” Windu almost spat. “Completing missions is not at the core of the Jedi. You may have completed your missions, but they are fruit of a poisonous tree. You are a sickness at the moment, Toc. I need to seek the Force regarding a cure.”

 

It's difficult to type this on my mobile phone while I am on sleep watch (with two colleagues for just 4 kids), but I try anyway.

I like the dark cynicism that your Windu shows here. Words like acid, but not without wicked fun. The same fun our young Jedi friend Toc here enjoys so much.

 

Windu persists until he gets a clear admission. He is correct in that there is little difference in the outcome whether ou actively or passively fall into a wrong course. If you continue in it, it means diddly how it started.

 

Ooo! I love your characterisation of Mace as the indignation and anger that Samuel L Jackson puts in every character is evident through your writing and word choices - excellent! By the end I was wincing at poor Byma’s predicament- even if he got himself into it.


Also I feel the question “are you a pirate?” should be asked more often.

 

Byma's a really interesting character, and you've done a great job writing Mace as well. I really like the idea of an 'internal affairs' Jedi investigator. Great work as always and can't wait to see more!

 

Interesting conversation between Mace and Byma. Love to see more of him

 

Oh, this was fun! The harsh conversation really does make you second-hand want to dive under a table. But at the same time I love how this brings out the best in some of Mace's qualities that kind of give him a reputation as Ye Olde Jedi Stickler and too strict and all that. There are circumstances where that certainty and willingness to deal out justice are really called for, and Mace is confident in his calls for good reason. And this is just the beginning of an interesting career for unlucky (or extremely lucky, depending on how you look at it) Byma.

 

Thank you all for your lovely reviews. I'm a little bit frustrated that I have fallen behind, here, right out of the gate. Hopefully, getting over this hump do the trick to kick my creativity into gear. I hope you enjoy another set with Mace Windu and Byma Toc. I have jumped around a bit in Toc present and past. I hope it is not too confusing.

Week III

Professor

Mace Windu was not one to despair. However, Toc's report from Tatooine was damning enough for Skywalker and the Order at large. Windu paced his meditation chamber, eyeing the dais, dismissing the opportunity to seek the Force regarding this devastating revelation. If Skywalker had murdered an entire village of Tuskens, he was capable of anything, any treachery. Mace would need to consult Yoda and the Council, but he was not sure if Kenobi would be willing to hear such accusations. He glanced at the meditation platform once more and hesitated before leaving the room.

School

As he made his way to meet with Master Yoda, Mace began to question why he was taking the failure of Toc so personally. He could feel the anger, the betrayal, like small flames erupting on his shoulders and tightening the muscles in his back. The Jedi Temple stood for something. It stood for Justice and Peace. It's educational process was virtually flawless. Windu felt a check in his spirit. Was it flawless? Was the way padawn's were trained into knights and later elevated to Masters as perfect a system as Windu had thought it? He knew that Toc was not the first to succumb to the Dark side, but he was the first for Mace and that it what made it personal. He would not see the name and institution of the Jedi tarnished.

Gifted

“Are you a pirate, Byma Toc?” Windu said in opening their third meeting.

“I am not, Master,” Toc responded, confidently.

“Are you a Jedi?” Windu pressed.

“Not at the moment, Master,” Toc replied.

“Do you appreciate the time, effort and cost associated with your training?”

“I do.”

“Are you sure, Knight Toc?” Mace rebutted. “What make you so certain? You are a gifted investigator and your Master, Klausen Kel, spoke highly of you at your knighting ceremony. Do you feel any remorse, any responsibility to Master Kel or to the Order at large?

“Master Windu,” Toc responded in earnest. “There are only two things a being can do when caught in illegal, much less Dark Side, dabbling. He can double down on the resentment or his unmet expectations that drove him there or he can recognize that he was caught for a reason. I am ready to repent of my sins and reenter the fold.”

Karma

Byma Toc had just returned from Tatooine and the pad that held his notes and the recordings of his witnesses was tucked into an inner pouch inside his Jedi robes. What he had learned needed to be shared with Master Windu and the council as soon as possible. He would not let it leave his presence until at had been delivered. Unfortunately, the notes and recordings had to be organized and put into an official report. Toc took the pad to his cell and stored it in a special safe. The safe was known only to himself and Master Windu. The two thought vital that the results of Byma's investigations would need to be protected.

It was after his meeting with Mace that he discovered the safe empty and a latent sense whom had stolen his evidence.

Gambit

Recovering the pad was out of the question. If it had been Skywalker, the evidence was already destroyed. Byma could think of no reason that the capricious knight would want to keep it around. If he had fallen to the Dark Side, it was very possible that he could use the information to hunt down and kill those whom had informed on him. Was he that far gone? A fit of rage is one thing, but premeditated murder was another.

There was no other option. Toc would either have to shadow Skywalker and wait for him to return to Tatooine, or determine if confronting him would see Skywalker as repentant as he had been. Sadly, he did not see Anakin confessing his crimes and seeking forgiveness.

 

Ooo! A nice parallel in the stories between you and Anakin, although with very different motivations and outcomes.


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@Kit': Thank you for reading and commenting, Kit'. I'm glad to be back writing and I'm glad you enjoyed it.

Week IV - by Mira_Jade

Misty

“Are you crying?” Obi-Wan asked as he noticed the moisture forming in Siri's eyes. He had not seen a tear yet, but try as she might to conceal them, Obi could feel a jumble of emotions bubbling to the surface. He had never seen Siri like this. He had never seen any Padawan, much less a Master, so near losing control of themselves. He didn't know what to do? Should he ask her what was wrong? Should he comfort her in a general way? Should he say nothing and allow the strange event to play out on it's own? Should he chastise her about such displays as unbecoming of a Jedi?

“I don't know,” Siri sobbed in response, leaning into him.

“You can't be crying, Siri,” Obi said. “It's against the rules.”


Lonely

It took only a split second, and a rather hard punch to his arm, for Obi-Wan to realized that he made the wrong choice. Instead of his practical common sense bringing her back into control, it seemed to push her further over the edge. A dam broke and tears began streaming down her face. All he could think to say as he fell apart in front of him was an exasperated 'What's wrong?'. Her look was incredulous and the aforementioned punch to his arm must has had some Force behind it because it hurt a lot. Siri didn't talk to him for two days after that. The only place her saw her was in the commissary. He hadn't realized how lonely he could be when she wasn't around.


Fiery

“Some negotiator you are!” Siri challenged on finding Obi-Wan alone in meditation.

“Negotiator?” Obi-Wan replied, startled from his thoughts.

“Isn't that what your friend and even some of the Masters call you?” Siri accused.

“I guess so. But I'm just a padawan and a relative new one at that. It will be som-”

“Shut up, Obi!” she interjected. “A Jedi with as much potential as you have shown should have been able to handle a a couple of tears coming his way. I'm you're friend right?”

“My best friend,” Obi-Wan said as quickly as he could as she continues her attack.

“Best friends don't quote the rules when one of them is upset. Got it?”

“It wasn't my first thought it that helps?” Obi-Wan tried.

“Next time, just be my friend."



Golden

Siri was under heavy fire from Separatist tanks and her clone were taking losses that were hard to calculate. If they did not retreat, it would be he last battle. Placing her hand in her pocket, she took the tiny memento between her thumb and forefinger and rubbed it softly. Obi-Wan had given it to her on the day they had secretly declared their love. It was a gold coin, of the smallest denomination, from the ancient Tayamma civilization. It had been given to him by a dignitary in one of his first successful negotiations as a Master.

As she rubbed the coin and thought of Obi, she decided this was not the hill she wanted to die on. She would see her love again.

“Fall back!” she yelled into her com-link. “Fall back!”


Undying

“Have you ever doubted us?” Poe asked as he served Amilyn a piece of blueberry pie.

“That's a strange question to ask over desert. Have you been listening to the holonews again?” she replied.

“They are relentless in their attacks and scurrilous in their mockery of our relationship.”

“Ooh! Say scurrilous again!” Amilyn replied with particular excitement. “Roll that R!”

“You're not be serious!” Poe retorted in frustration. “These attack require a response.”

“And you are being ridiculous. You have my undying love and affection. Those news reporters can Kriff themselves for all I care. Do you love me?”

“With my whole being,” he replied.

“Then what can they do?”

“Kriff themselves.”

“That's my Flyboy.”

 

Good going Siri! Tears are nothing to be ashamed of. Obi should be glad it was just punch to the arm and not a kick to somewhere else more vulnerable.

Aww, this was really lovely and really sweet. I liked the play of the first couple and then this as the culmination.

That made me giggle. Great work on all of these, they were really engaging and fun to read.

 

@Kit': Thanks for the R and R, Kit'! I appreciate it. Siriwan is a favorite and come back to it now and again. As for Poldo, I was there when the 'ship first sailed and it was fun to write their back and forth. Thanks again!

Week V - by Briannakin

Temple

Kanan Jurrus was not the first Jedi to extrapolate the physical Jedi Temple into the idea of his body being a temple. During his abbreviated time as a padawan, his Master Depa Billaba, made sure that he understood that taking care of himself, physically was the best way to insure that he was serving the Force with his best. Kanan took this teaching beyond the fall of the Jedi and took special pains to not only train his body, but to feed it the best possible meats, fruits, and vegetables. His time at the market, choosing his items carefully may have seemed antithetical to his jobs in manual labor, but it was his small act of service to he force and remembrance to his fallen master.


Sanctuary

Every time Ezra was allowed inside Sabine's quarters, he was amazed by its transformation. The Mando had splashed the room from top to bottom with brilliant color and deliberate strokes from her vastly creative mind. He knew that this was more than a place for her to sleep. It was a place where she could rest. Not just rest her mind, but rest her body after many a mission. It was a safe place. The Ghost itself was a safe place for all of them, but this place was her inner sanctum. He felt blessed and valued each time she invited him in. The only thing he wondered about was how his friend slept when the colors remained after the lights were turned out.


Shrine

As Rey Skywalker left the sandblasted Moisture farm, she knew she would return. She had no plans to clean it out or restore the former home of her Master, Luke Skywalker, but she felt that the Force would want her to come back every so often. She could not nail down the Force's intentions, but she suspected that this would be a place where the Force would call her to gain perspective; to center herself when things might seem unmanageable. Of course, she should be able to do that anywhere, but understood what the Force was telling her. Places and things can hold significance, but should never take the place of The Force. Perhaps the Force would even show her glimplese of Luke's past. That would be interesting, she thought with a smirk.


Monastery

Master Windu's retraining in the wake of Byma Toc's fall, was intense. What else could one expect from the dour Master. But it was not all bad. The extended periods in his cell, seeking the will of the Force, was helping him recall the peace of selfless service, the satisfaction of a job completed in which one's whole heart is devoted, even the comfort of being among like minded brothers, each looking to build each other up. Sometimes that encouragement was through what Master Windu called 'tough love'. Isolation and self denial was helping him remember who he was, who he had been before he allowed greed, pleasure, and apathy to cloud his mind.


Pilgrimage
Garazeb Orrelios was hungry. Very hungy. Only hungry for one thing; a box of Lenges fruit bars from the outlet store on Lucado. When Zeb's mind and body desired a specific thing, it created a withdrawal type of response that the left the Lasat more cranky that usual, shaking with tremors, and body odor kicked into overdrive. The only problem with attaining his desired snack was that it was halfway across the galaxy and he and the boy were stuck station side while mom and dad were off to meet with Alliance Command.

“Come on, Boy,” Zeb growled. “We're stealing a ship.”

“Stealing a ship?” Ezra replied in shock. “We can't do that?”

“I'll be sure to return it when we get back.”

“And, when will that be?” Ezra asked.

“About three standard weeks.”

“That's just great!” Ezra complained. “Three weeks on a strange ship with stinky, foul mouthed Lasat.”

“Your luck day,” Zeb said with an evil grin.

 

Great character insight in "Temple"; nice seeing the interplay of Ezra and Sabine's artistic talents, etc. in "Sanctuary." "Pilgrimage" ... Zeb is having a food! craving!

 

@WarmNyota_SweetAyesha: I'm glad you liked these, Nyota. I love playing with Zebb and Ezra, and Kanan, too. Her are a few more.

Week VI - by mavjade


Angel

There were times when Kanan would stare at her. It didn't make her nervous or cause her to lose focus. She accepted it a a gesture of love. In her line of work there was little time for sentimentality, and a hard exterior can form in order to protect one's self. However, the love she had discovered was astral. She didn't like to use such slanguage, but when it came to Kanan, the man whom had softened her heart and simultaneous helped forge her brand of leadership, there was grace. So often, he called her beautiful and sexy and even lovely, when all she saw was engine grease, a flight suit and a neat pair of goggles. When he caressed her cheek, or gently stroked her lekku, the Spectre melted away an she was able to feel like a female, desired and loved and trusted.


Beast

“By the Rings of Lasan, I will kill that kid when I get my paws on him!” Zebb growled as he stalked the corridors of The Ghost. He wore a large towel wrapped tightly around his waist and beads of water spotted his grey shoulders and arms.

Stomping into the small galley he found Sabine bent over a bowl something, eating it feverishly.

“Zebb!” exclaimed, looking startled and obviously guilty. He could not tell if she had flushed for all the color in her hair and on her uniform. “What are you doing in here?”

“I'm looking for Ezra,” he barked, baring his teeth. “I don't even care that you are eating Hera's last parcel of Ucktal oatmeal. You can't hide him from me this time.”

Sabine had overcome her guilt and arched an eyebrow, ready to enter a verbal battle just for fun. Before she could speak, a scent hit her nostrils. It was sweet and spicy and had her taking a deep breath to get more of it.

“What is that scent?” Sabine asked, curiously. “Is that you, Zebb?”

“It's the reason the boy will die, painfully. He infused my shower water with Allspice oil.”

“But you smell so nice,” Sabine replied, laughing lightly.

Rogue – AU diversion in honor of @Raissa Baiard

Ezra Bridger leaned heavily on the tightly coiled mast rigging of his airship. His body hung out over the expanse, high above the spattering of clouds which dotted the fertile Lothal landscape.

“Take her down, My Love,” he commanded his co-captain, the Mandolorian, Sabine Wren.

“I still don't like this, Ezra,” she said, firmly. “Our intelligence says that the enemy have a dreadnought in this sector. If we hit the storehouse without making sure, our gallion will be outmatch and we will be destroyed.”

He eyed her closely, taking in her lithe form and her short magenta hair laced with gold highlights as it blew in the wind. She was a fierce warrior and equally fierce lover. It was not like her to shy away from a fight; even one with the odds against them.

“Sabine, I hear what you are saying, but we need that fuel to keep this ship and the rest of the fleet in the air. I say the risk is acceptable.”

Leaving her post at the wheel, she joined him on the study rope, pressing into him. “Would Kanan take such a risk?” she whispered in the wind.

Feeling her body pushing into his, he did not answer, but looked down at the target, weighing his chances yet again.


Frost

The attack on the fuel depot had been a success, but at a cost. The Jarrus had taken heavy damage and four beings had been lost in the fight. After sending the Imperial battleship crashing the ground below, Sabine had returned to the deck covered in soot and sweat. If he had not seen the disgust and condemnation on her beleaguered face, he would have taken her into arm and kissed her in front of his sailors.

“I hope you're happy, Ezra,” she said, disdainfully. “Darklighter and Antilles are dead.”

Ezra's face hardened, as not to show grief to his men. He turned back toward the wheel, gripping it so tighly the whites of his knuckles showed. He left her standing there with no response.

Storm

Wind and rain battered The Jarrus, mercilessly as both Ezra, Sabine, and their new mate, Zebb attempted to evade the dreadnought that appeared out of the clouds just as the storm began.

“Hard to starboard and DIVE!” Ezra called over the howling winds. He wiped hair and water from his eyes with a swipe across his face. “DIVE! DIVE!”

Zebb, who stood next to Sabine at the wheel gave hand signals to the crew as sails were adjusted as best as was possible. The Imperials had attempted more than once to attach their industrial grappling hooks. One had had punctured the fore deck, but his dual action serrated sword and Zebb's steam powered saw, they had cut the burly rope free.

Looking back over the deck, he watched the dreadnought rise above them as they dove out its reach. With a false salute to the nasty bastards, he whispered a prayer of thanks to The Spirit and his mentor Kanan Jarrus.

 

Fascinating AU and Angel and Beast, one made me SQUEE and the other

 

@WarmNyota_SweetAyesha: Thank you for reading and leaving a comment, Nyota. I love playing with Zeb and Ezra. Thanks also for the comment on the Ezra AU. I enjoyed writing that and will likely come back to it later on.

A/N: Please forgive that these are a little longer than the little longer allowed. I hope you will enjoy them.

Week VII - by Mira_Jade

Bight

When Ezra entered The Ghost's main hold, he found Sabine standing spread legged and leaning, both arms stretched toward her left foot. Standing, deathly still and leaning against the door frame, he traced the single curving line from her right foot, along her calf, over her hip, into her rib cage, and alone the lithe, but taut triceps to her nimble trigger fingers. Tracing the line back along her bicep, armpit, backsi-

“Can I help you, Ezra?” Sabine fumed, now standing straight up with her hands on her hips.

Ezra's eyes rose to hers slowly as if in a trance. “I...I, uh...came to see if you wanted to have a bite of breakfast?”

“A bite?” she asked. “Who talks like that?”

Ezra, having regained part of his coherence, said. “A bight? No, that's a bend or curve in the coastline. I could show you some holovi-”

“Ezra!” Sabine barked. “One walk in the woods, doesn't mean you can stare at me like that!”

“What about two walks?” he replied with a mischievous grin.


Thrush

He hadn't been kidding about a second walk in the woods. Sabine was wondering if that initial walk was more to spite Zeb than any real interest in Ezra, romantically. He was still a kid wasn't he? She was surprised by her affirmative answer when he asked her to join him on a nature walk on their next stop on Lothal.

It was a sunny day and Ezra was excited to show her a well know trail, which featured The Rkince Thrush, a prized songbird of the region.

“Thrush?” Sabine said, listening, but hearing no song. “I thought that was a dry mouth infection for infant humans.”

It was not often that Ezra got to roll his eyes at the holes in the knowledge of others. He did so now. “Yes, yes, the drymouth. Let me assure that when you hear the Thrush's song, there will be no such thing.”


Barrel

AU Distraction (Old West)

Garazeb Orrelios did not gamble for a reason. He didn't gamble because he hated the idea of losing. Losing was a possible outcome when taking a risk. As Zeb looked at the wooden barrel he was wearing, he vowed never to gamble gain.

“Are the the straps snug on your shoulders there, Zeb,” Ezra Bridger said sarcastically. “Not too tight are they?”

“No,” Zeb said, in a low, even rumble. The barrel covered from the lower half of his chest to just above his knees.

“Now, Zeb,” Ezra crowed. “That pair of jacks I just hit you with says you have to run up that hill over yonder and then barrel roll back down to us. Got that?”

“Yes,” the low growl assented. “Why have you decided on this course as your payment. My gold is as good as any.”

“Well, Zeb, it's like this. Though we may be brothers, I don't beat you often. At anything. So, given that I have, beaten you that is, I want you to remember it. We all want to remember it.”

“Okay,” Zeb said with a heavy sigh. “Just know, Boy, that if you and I ever decide to wager again, your payment will be in kind.”

“I hear your words, Zeb,” Ezra said. “Now git on up that hill and try not to vomit in the barrel on the way down.”


Vintage

“Have you ever thought of wearing something a little less form fitting?”

“Form fitting is practical in both stealth and agility. It works for me.”

“Oh, it definitely works for me. I mean you! That wasn't my point.”

“You might want to get to it.”

“What?”

“Your point!”

“Oh yeah. I don't think I've been shy about the attention I've given you. Before you say it, I know. It's been kind of obvious, even rude. I apologize. I never meant to make you uncomfortable. I just think you're beautiful. Like Volcanic.”

“Oh, well, uh...I got that impression. Not that I'm bragging. But you never said anything. You just ran whenever I called you out.”

“I guess I did. Not very mature, huh?”

“You're showing a little now. But what does it have to do with me wearing something less form fitting.”

Monc's Disco is having Retro Night tonight. You know, like the Golden Age of Lothal City!”

“Are you asking me to wear a dress?”

“Are you saying you would?”

“What kind of dress is it?”

“Shiny and Dazzling.”

“Sounds like my style.”

“You'll knock them dead.”

“You're the only one I'll be worried about.”


Key


“That was amazing!” Sabine said, hugging Ezra's arm as they exited Monc's. The tassels on her dress shook with her movement, but Ezra looked only at her eyes. He had seen enough of her bare arms and legs on the dance floor and now only wanted concentrate on what she was saying.

“I told you it would be,” Ezra said, grinning at her closeness. “You were amazing out there. You put me to shame.”

“Don't be so hard on yourself, Young Jedi,” Sabine kidded. “You have more moves than I gave you credit for.”

“So, you're giving me credit?” Ezra teased in return. “That sounds promising.”

“Your limit is rising,” she retorted.

He pulled her off the street, under an overhead lamp, to a railing that overlooking a large park. It was night and, though the park was lit, it's full impact was lost. Her short brown hung down just above her eyes and he brushed it aside in a feeble attempt to secure it behind her left ear. It immediately fell back into her eyes.

“I'm sorry you had to color your hair for tonight?” he said. “But you are no less beautiful.”

“I'm not,” she replied, genuinely. “As if the disco wasn't cover enough, some slight changes to our appearances keeps us hidden in the open. Nice specs, by the way. The hat was a little much.”

“You don't like my hat?” he opined, tossing it to a nearby bench. “Gone.”

She smiled, contentedly, and pressed her cheek to his shoulder. “You don't seem so Ezra tonight,” she said, looking him in the eye. “This guy is so much more relaxed. Less intensity.”

“That's funny,” he replied, caressing her cheek with a knuckle of his right hand. “I was going to say something similar about you.”

They both leaned in and their lips met softly. They kissed a second time, more deeply, but no less delicately.

“That was...nice,” Sabine said, placing a hand on his chest. Her other hand met his at their sides.

“I think so, too.”

 

SQUEE! SQUEE! Delightful and fun as Ezra and Sabine draw closer.