Star Wars rebels Abducted

Chapter 13: Don't Doubt Our Strength

Wow, I'm really making these chapters long... hope you guys like it!

Disclaimer: Fun fact! Star Wars: Rebels isn't mine!

Hera blinked at the unfamiliar man. That was not Fulcrum.

The man waiting for them at the landing pad was short, almost as tall as Sabine. He was not fat, but he gave the aura of being well cared for. There was a thin layer of chub that clung to his cloths, making them bulge slightly. He had short brown hair, cut almost to army regulations, but slightly longer. Even from this distance, Hera could see that it was thick with grease.

However, nothing else about the scene had changed from the other times that the Ghost had delivered it's mission's goodies. The unpacking droids were still lined up a respectful distance away, ready to unload and reload the Tibanna gas capsules from the Ghost to the Turn-point, Fulcrum's ship, which was still parked in its' usual spot.

Deciding to give the new arrival the benefit of the doubt, Hera none the less made sure that her blaster was loose in its' holster. Too many years of experience refused to allow Hera not to do so. Looking to her left, the Twi'lek saw that Kanan was watching the new man as well, eyes narrowed. It was reassuring that in his self-doubt about Ezra, the man was still wary.

Sabine and Zeb, however, noticed nothing unusual. They'd never met Fulcrum before, so of course they wouldn't recognize something was up. It was only because of current events that both of their eyes were drooped, and that they seemed to want to get this done with as soon as possible.

Hera considered telling them that something was up, but decided against it. They'd find out soon enough that the man wasn't Fulcrum, and it would be better to have them approach the new comer without suspicion in their eyes. Nodding slightly to Kanan, Hera started down the ramp of the Ghost.

With each step closer, the more Hera's dislike of the man increased. He had a bored look to his face that indicated he thought their delivery as nothing more than a waste of his time, which, in their current condition, was not a good starting factor. This mission was the reason they hadn't gone back for Ezra yet. Anyone who viewed it with contempt would...sorely... regret it.

His hands were stuck in his pockets, though they were close enough to the weapons hanging from his belt to make Hera eye them warily. There were two belts strapped around his bulging chest, hanging with grenades and extra ammo for the two guns in their slings around his waist, and most probably the huge automatic firing weapon that hung from his back. Upon closer inspection, Hera saw that at almost all of the grenades were fake, simply pieces of metal and plastic designed to look like flash-bangs and gas distributors. Her dislike multiplied by a factor of two.

When the four Spectres were within talking distance, Hera saw that he was lazily chewing a piece of gum, letting it smack as loud as it could against his cheeks. Small black eyes watched them from his other wise bored face.
Before Hera could inquire to his identity, however, the man spoke up, eyes on the Ghost.

"Is that it?" He had a drawling voice that clearly showed his distaste towards their meager ship and crew. Hera raised an eyebrow when he had graced the crew with his attention once more. "As long as we got the job done,what does it matter?"

The man responded with a sneer, then whipped out a small data pad. "You're Hera Syndulla, I presume?" Hera gave a curt nod, then motioned her head towards the rest of the Spectres behind her. "We're all cleared out with Fulcrum, so you can put that away." The man scowled, but stored the small device back in it's place. His eyes were darting around the rest of her crew, and it didn't miss Hera that Zeb and Sabine had noticed when she'd addressed the man as someone other than Fulcrum. Willing them not to interrupt, Hera plowed on.