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Star wars Rebels: Unwilling

Nick_Kicker
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Synopsis
A rewrite of my fanfiction "Star Wars: I don't want to be a Jedi" from my other account.
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Chapter 1 - Chapter One

The streets were almost empty as I walked down the road, passing the stalls, some clear of any product, and the vendor, rarely was one offering anything edible, or useful, for that matter.

Even now, in the middle of the day, people are in bars, drinking their sorrows away.

My eyes flicked over to the men in white armor, their obnoxiously giant helmets blocking their vision most of the time. They patrolled the almost deserted streets like there was something to watch out for.

I focused back on the road, my stride steady, as I made my way toward one of the town's more popular bars. I walked into the side alley and looked around.

Soon enough, I spotted a man slouched over a few crates, wearing the same armor white armor the rest of his kind was known for.

I crouched down next to his body, turning him over, my eyes raking over his unconscious form.

My hand went up, and a second later, the sound of skin slapping against skin rang out in the quiet alley.

Yeah, he was out for good...

I started unbuckling the armor he was wearing, taking it off peace by peace, leaving him only in the body glove he was wearing under the armor.

Moving to one of the crates, I opened it, looking inside to see empty bottles, the owner of the bar would probably recycle these, but I needed it more for the moment.

Tilting it to the side, the bottles fell out, Tossing the armor inside the now empty crate, I closed it and pressed a button on the side, the crate whirring to life as it started levitating off the ground.

I pushed the crate out of the alleyway casually making my way down the street like I didn't just rob someone who was black out drunk.

The citizens ignored me, it wasn't very unusual to see someone transporting something, more uncommon for it to be a ten-year-old kid, but it was still a normal sight, everyone was working to get some credits, money was needed to live, after all.

I paused before I turned the corner, narrowing my eyes for a moment before turning into an alley, avoiding a pair of guards that came around the same corner.

Soon enough, I breached the outskirts of the city, my feet pushing away the tall grass growing outside of the city.

The large, abandoned transition tower loomed over me as I walked to its base, stopping at the ladder and sighing in annoyance.

An advanced civilization, yet no elevators on radio towers, very pragmatic.

Leaving the crate for the moment, I grabbed the first steps of the ladder and started climbing. Turning to look at the crate hovering on the ground, I narrowed my eyes in concentration, slowly, the crate floated higher off the ground, levitating in the air as I made my way up to the top.

The crate floated closer as soon as my feet were steady on the platform. Grabbing the sides, I pushed it again to the door, opened it, and stepped inside.

"Colt!"

My eyes snapped to the source of the excited voice as an 8-year-old kid ran up to me. I smiled slightly, my hand ruffling the kid's blue hair which was much like my own.

"Hey! Stop messing with my hair, Jeez..."

He grumbled as I moved the crate deeper inside, putting it next to the others, stacking it on top of another, and turning off the hover function.

That was six.

"You got another armor set?"

I nodded, walking over to my makeshift bed sitting down, and leaning back against the wall.

"What have you been up to today, Ezra?"

I hummed, watching as his face lit up and he ran over to the desk, grabbed something, and ran back over to me, holding out a curious contraption like presenting a prize he won in a competition.

I raised an eyebrow at it curiously, looking over whatever he managed to create with that hyperactive little mind of his.

"What is it?"

I questioned, watching as he grinned triumphantly, and attached the small device on his forearm, before flicking up a part and taking out a green glove with yellow fingertips, putting it on his other hand.

Reaching for the device, grabbing thin air between two metal rods and pulling back, a small yellow electricity ran between his fingers, connecting to the small rods.

Letting go, the yellow electricity shot forward, forming into a ball and hitting the metal wall, dispersing in a small flicker.

I quirked an eyebrow in interest, that was... something. Certainly impressive, not every eight-year-old could make something like that.

I smiled, reaching over and ruffling his hair again, getting an annoyed huff in response, but an undeniable quirk of his lips couldn't be missed.

"Good job."

I grinned and kept my antics up before he finally pushed my hand away. I chuckled in amusement, looking over his electric slingshot.

"Don't use it on other kids in the street though, okay?"

He scoffed indignantly, like I just offended our whole family line.

"I know that..."

He muttered in annoyance as he crossed his arms.

"...Can we get some snacks?"

He looked back at me, looking hopeful, and I had to silently marvel at the constant change of emotions he managed to display in quick succession.

I sighed, getting up again.

"Alright, let's go."

He smiled and ran to his makeshift bed to grab the small jacket that was haphazardly thrown onto it, putting it on.

I just shook my head as I walked over to the door, opening it as he quickly caught up.

He sure was a handful, but I couldn't blame him, he was still a child.