Chapter Six;

"So, where's Kanan and Ezra?" Soleil asked, as she followed Hera and Sabine out of the cockpit. Behind them, the blue-white blur of hyperspace dominated the view from the window.

As they walked, her bag slipped slightly off her shoulder. She hitched it higher up, securing it.

"They've headed back to Lothal, Ezra's homeworld," Hera explained. She sighed, and her eyes fluttered briefly closed. "Ezra... had a vision about the fate of his parents. There was a mass breakout at the prison we discovered his parents were being kept. He had a vision that led him to Lothal for answers."

Soleil blinked. Her mind returned to Garel, when Ezra told her his parents had been taken by the Empire. Her heart reached out to the young boy, no matter how far a distance was between them. She hoped he found the answers he needed, and received some good news at least. She recalled that broken expression on his face – hopefully, it wouldn't be a dream taken away in the worst way possible.

Then she remembered a word Hera had used and frowned. 

"A vision?" She had never heard of anyone possessing such an ability.

Sabine and Hera exchanged a look.

"There's something you should know about Ezra and Kanan, now you're one of us," Sabine said slowly. "They're both Jedi."

"What?"

Sabine's shriek pierced the air, rupturing even her own eardrums. Her head swivelled from Hera to Sabine, waiting for someone to laugh, to say it was a joke. Because that was impossible – the Jedi had died years ago!

But there was no reaction; if anything, the two only grew more solemn. Soleil swallowed.

They're telling the truth.

It's impossible, but they're telling the truth.

"I thought they'd all died," she choked out.

Hera smiled wistfully, a small sadness in her eyes. "Not all of them."

"Kid!" a new voice bellowed.

Soleil didn't have time to react until someone clapped her on the back so hard she staggered forward, all the breath in her chest temporarily being expelled from her lungs. Coughing, and her eyes watering slightly, she turned and beamed to see the tall, imposing figure of Zeb Orrelios in front of her.

"Good to see that you came back!" the Lasat said, grinning.

Soleil laughed, trying indiscreetly to rub her back. "Hey, Zeb," she responded, waving with her free hand.

"Glad you've joined the right fight now," he said gruffly.

Soleil nodded. "Me too, Zeb. Me too."

Hera smiled. "We'll assign you sleeping quarters. I hope you don't mind sharing a space, Sabine?" She addressed the sentence to the blue-haired girl.

Sabine shook her head. "'Course not." She extended her hand. "Come on, Lei."

Soleil raised her eyebrows. "Lei?"

Sabine shrugged. "Easier to say."

Soleil laughed. It was a sound that was almost entirely unfamiliar to her. When had Hana spoken her last joke?

"Fair enough," she chuckled, and allowed Sabine to drag her to the room they would share.

Soleil didn't notice Hera trail behind them as they entered Sabine's room for what was Soleil's second time. The first time she had been too distracted to notice it properly but now, she was taking it in with full force.

"Wow," she gasped, as they entered the room full of art sprayed on to the walls. "It's bright in here."

Sabine puckered her lips. "Don't you like it?"

Soleil stared back at Sabine, her eyes as bright and vibrant as the numerous paintings on the wall. "You kidding? I love it."

She did. Beforehand, she hadn't much time to appreciate Sabine's room as she reeled in the shock of the revelation. But now, just seeing the art sprayed so eagerly on the walls made her lips split into a wide grin.

It felt lived in, like a home. So different to the sterile, dull rooms of the Empire, where colour never varied and the only variation of colour was different shading between neutral and dark. Those rooms were just... Places for existing. No personality existed, and there was no time for individuality. Only conformity, order, units within a greater mission.

Sabine's room screamed of her own personality, of her enthusiasm, of her explosiveness. Soleil could see just how much passion went into every painting, with the choice of colour and attention to detail. She could almost see Sabine jumping out of every piece on the wall.

Sabine laughed, cheeks suddenly flushed. No doubt her art was personal to her – no doubt for every piece, there was a story to go with it.

Hera smiled in the doorway, her smile as soft and warm as the first rays of sunrise. "I need to talk with Commander Sato about our rendezvous – and that we have an extra crew member," the Captain said. "Settle in the meantime."

Easy. Soleil beamed and nodded once, collapsing on the bed that was to be her own.

The surface was noticeably harder than her bed at home, which she had almost sunk into. But that was nothing. She'd easily get used to it, in time. 

Besides, she'd much rather sleep here, where she was free, rather than the overly lavish prison she had called home. 

Soleil stretched out and rolled over to her side. Her fingers grasped her bag and she opened it. Her fingers brushed the books and sketch art she had brought with her. She had been meaning to put it on display in whatever room she was given up now, she wasn't sure, afraid that it would clash against Sabine's works.

Her heart beating unusually fast in her chest, Soleil stammered, "Do you mind if I put some of my things up?"

Sabine did not look at all apprehensive, like Soleil first thought she would. Instead, the artist grinning and almost pounced on Soleil's bag, as though desperate to see her art no matter what. "'Course not."

Her excitement was infectious. Soleil found herself grinning as she pulled everything out of her bag and, after Sabine located what was needed to tape everything up, they placed Soleil's precious sketches and extracts on the walls.

The last time they had been on a wall they had been promises, distant hopes. But now, they were possibilities. Soleil beamed when she saw one description, outlining just what a temperate climate looked like, what it felt like, how it compared to a landscape like Garel's. She knew now what that was.

It was like a checklist now, something to strive for, something she could achieve. A bucketlist of the desires she would fulfil now she had left the Empire behind.

When they finished, Soleil stepped back and grinned. Together, their work looked like a collage; messy, unorganised. It didn't look gorgeous but it was their art, what made them Soleil and Sabine. It was their very essence combined on the wall, a documentation of who they were. In some strange mismatched way, they fit together perfectly.

Soleil laughed. The combination of art and colours and paintings and sketches made her feel alive.

This is why I left. So I could be myself, not just another pawn in the Empire.

"It looks good, doesn't it?" Sabine quipped. Her eyes danced, her smile was as bright as a spark. She was a firework: playful and bright and full of joy. She winked. "Nice stuff you got."

Soleil could feel her blush reach the roots of her hair. Not until now had she realised just how integral the books and images of the world she had collected was to her.

"Thanks." She tilted her head to the side and pursed her lips. Her own things did pale in comparison to Sabine's, now she thought of it. "On Garel, in the Empire, you found out soon enough colour wasn't very much... Appreciated. Though I could paint my walls and change the colour of my furniture... There wasn't exactly any art I could decorate with, and claim as my own." She smiled fondly. "These extracts were my version of your art, I suppose. I painted a picture with words rather than paints."

Sabine pulled a face. "That sounds dull."

Soleil tried to imagine bright, vibrant Sabine fitting in with the Empire, and had to suppress a laugh. Instead, she composed her face into a solemn mask. It wasn't hard – all she had to do was think of the Empire and her mood instantly dropped.

"It was," she sighed, and collapsed back on the bed.

"Even your clothes," Sabine cried, as though pained, as she glanced once more into Soleil's bag. The outfit she was wearing now was perhaps the most colourful items she had. "Must everything in the Empire be so bland?"

"Unfortunately. It's why I love the colours of your room."

Sabine pursed her lips, deep in thought. "Now you're one of us, you should make a statement. Leave the Empire behind for good."

Soleil gasped. "Yes," she exclaimed. At once, her head reeled with possibilities.

Possibility had been a virtually non-existent word in her home.

Sabine drummed her fingers against her leg. "Can't do much about your clothes for now. But I still have a lot of hair dye, if you wanted to give that a try."

Soleil reached up and tugged on a strand of bland, monotone brown hair. A hundred colours passed through her mind, a hundred opportunities, a hundred chances to tell the world exactly who she was.

"Please," she begged, leaping to her feet. "Do we have time now?"

It was like Sabine's dreams had come true.

"Don't we ever."

**********

i apologise for the delay in updating! i'm getting to the nitty-gritty of school, and am just weeks away from my final exams so i'm finding it difficult to squeeze in writing time. but when november is finished, i'll have plentiful time to update, don't you worry!

anyone shipping soleil/sabine yet? or have any suggestions for a ship name? 

thanks for your support guys, and keep an eye out for the next chapter! don't forget to vote/comment if you liked!