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40% Star wars Rebels: Unwilling / Chapter 2: Chapter Two

章 2: Chapter Two

"What are you drawing?"

Ezra asked from next to me, looking down at the paper on the table as my pencil glided over it in short strokes.

"Blueprints."

He hummed, his blue hair coming into view as he looked over at me working silently for a moment.

"Can I draw too?"

I reached over, handing in a piece of paper and another pencil. HE grabbed them and walked off, a soft thud informing me that he laid down on his bed.

The next few minutes were spent in silence, the only thing disturbing it was the scratching of the pencil on the paper.

It wasn't long before Ezra came back over to me, holding up his drawing. I glanced over, my lips tugging into a smirk at the two stick figures, one taller than the other.

"Are those supposed to be us?"

He nodded, his smile widening at my correct deduction. I reached forward, took the piece of paper, and looked it over.

"Not bad..."

I muttered, placing the paper on the table and handing him another.

"Here, go practice some more, you're doing great."

He grabbed it and practically skipped back to his bed. I chuckled, going back to my own paper, and continued making adjustments and writing down the materials I wanted to be used.

It was a little too early to actually wear armor for me, the constant re-forging and adjusting the size would cost a lot of credits, and we weren't exactly swimming in them.

I sighed, finishing up the blueprint for now and putting the paper to the side. Standing up, I stretched my arms above my head, letting out a groan.

"Ezra, I'll be going out for a bit."

He let out a hum, too concentrated on drawing to do anything else. I chuckled a little, heading to the door.

"Bring back some snacks!"

I smirked, opened the door, and walked through.

"Will do."

___

The force was an interesting thing, and it came easy to me. As far as I was concerned, it was enough for me right now, but training with it should be top priority.

I knew a few abilities that I could have with the force, and I needed to train intensively to imitate them, I wasn't foolish enough to think that I could replicate something that took the Jedi thousands of years to discover and master.

I wasn't that good yet.

I crouched down, pulling the hood of my jacket over my head and the old shirt I brought as a mask by wrapping it around my head, the hole for the head used as the opening to allow me to see.

The bar was almost empty since it was still the middle of the day, the only people that were inside were the ones who had too much free time, wasting their money to get drunk.

The bartender was at the bar but I needed him to move away. Picking up a rock from the ground, I narrowed my eyes, seeing 3 people who were a little too cheerful.

I reached out to the force, and flung the rock forward, using the force to increase the speed.

The rock broke a glass, the liquid inside pouring over another man's head, bits of shard falling all around him.

The talking paused for a moment, and it wasn't long before a punch was thrown, then another, and then some more.

It wasn't long before a full-on fight broke out. The Bartender left the bar, I ran in, grabbed the Mark One Clone trooper helmet that was used for display, and ran out, without staying to look for anything else.

I didn't want to risk getting caught because I was not oblivious to the consequences.

I slowed down as I reached the alleyway, proceeding to walk casually after I was a few buildings away from the bar.

I looked over the helmet, it was in surprisingly good condition on the outside.

I put the helmet on, my vision was not at all impaired by the visor. But it was a little big on the head, so there was that. I reached inside, feeling around for a few seconds before I found a button, pressing it, I felt the helmet tighten around my neck, something pressing against my nose and mouth.

I breathed in, tossed the helmet off, and coughed. slamming my fist to my chest, pressing my palm against the wall for support.

"God damn..."

I coughed. That thing was pure dust, holy shit.

I turned back to the helmet, which would definitely need a new rebreather.

I sighed, walking over to it and kicking it up, catching it in my hands... maybe sterilizing it wouldn't hurt, either, I'm sure.


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  • テキストの品質
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  • 世界の背景

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