Disclaimer: My name's certainly not affiliated with Star Wars in ANY matter, much less with Rebels.
Story: A slightly older, female Ezra is much more deeply entrenched in criminal matters, while honing her natural ability for Force healing. Can the crew of Ghost ever get her to join them, and if they do, how will changes affect the course of things?
Set as a genderbent AU.
Spoilers: Yeeess. Beware.
Warnings: Perverts, raunchy humor, weird humor, craziness, etc…Criminal activity, probably some violence, sexual situations, etc.
Pairings: Secret for now? XD Actually, I'm not sure for once. EDIT: NOW, JUST TO BE A BITCH, IT'S AN OT3. THANK YOU, SINGULAR PEOPLE WHO HAVE TO COMPLAIN ABOUT PAIRINGS.

NOTE 2/18/15: There's always got to be that one person in every freaking fandom who'll complain about the pairing. I said this in a later chapter, but I'll add it in the first chapter (in a more crude way) -no fucks given. There are few things that'll really piss me off in fandoms and complaining about the pairings I write, especially if it's obvious and has been stated in some way, will piss me off for sure. If you don't like the pairing, go away and leave me alone. You don't have to read. And no, I won't kill off the Imperials just because you hate the pairing. I don't care if you stop reading because of that. Fuck off (this will be one of the only ways to get me pissed off and rude).

The Chronicles of E. Bridger: Girl at War
Chapter One: Girl in Transit

The Sienar Fleet Systems factory she worked in was hot and almost stifling, especially considering the suit she had to wear. The bindings around her chest felt constricting, more so in that environment. The TIE fighter she was currently working on felt hot to the touch, with the metal heating up from the heat. It was hard to work like this, but she knew if she didn't, she would get in trouble. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, and as she focused on the TIE fighter, she honed in on what was the problem.

Ezra Bridger had a gift with mechanics, and could instinctively figure any technology out practically within seconds.

Reaching into the inside of the undercarriage, she found the loose and malformed screw. Curling her hand around it, she turned and went to find the supervisor of her division.

"Sir, this screw was what was causing the TIE fighter to be unstable. I'm requesting a new one to replace it," she told Strove Solarlast, the supervisor that she worked under.

He hummed an approval. "Good job, Bridger. You found the problem quickly. Stay at your station and I'll make sure a replacement screw is delivered quickly."

Ezra nodded and handed the screw over to him, before turning around to go back to her work station. She kept her head ducked and didn't look at anyone, keeping to herself. She was, after all, pretending to be male, and drawing attention to herself would hinder that.

It wasn't long until the replacement screw came and she got to work dismantling things and then putting them back together, along with finally putting on a good screw on the part that was needed. And then she got to clock out, her morning shift finished as she ended her job at the factory. Now all she needed was to check up with Vizago…

Cikatro Vizago was a big-time crime boss and headed the "Lothal Underground." Ezra had met him when she was young, around a year and a half after she was left to fend for herself on the streets. By then, she'd found an old communication tower that she'd named "Ezra's Tower" and slept and lived in it. However, thievery could only get her so far in maintaining a stable life to live by, without frequent bouts of starvation.

Vizago had offered her a job, and at that point she'd started delivering packages and whatnot for him. As she grew older, she began to want to strike out on her own and away from crime and work on something more stable and normal. Vizago had struck a deal with her then –he'd get her this factory job, as long as she continued to do little favors for him. Of course she'd have to pretend to be male, since females weren't allowed to work at the factories, and he'd have to pay off a few of the higher ups to look the other way…

In the end, it did come to a higher price than she'd thought it would. He was after all giving huge favors to her, and it was special treatment in a way. But it always comes with a price.

The factory job was enough to make ends meet for her, but aside from the assorted favors, Vizago had pulled her into a night job. He was invested in many things, and he was always looking to get money and lots of it from whatever he could. It really shouldn't have come to a surprise to her, for her to have gotten herself stuck in Capital City's red light district, when in hindsight, Vizago had always made such clear hints to her about this eventual plan. Had he been grooming her for it? Maybe. Did it matter now? No.

She was already stuck in this situation.

But that job was much later, and now was now. She had plenty of time to herself, and do whatever she wanted.

She had some time and a little money, so she could indulge in a diner nearby. She'd just ordered and was waiting, when who else but Vizago sat down across from her.

"Cikatro," Ezra greeted in surprise. "I thought you'd be in Tarkintown."

Vizago grinned. "Well, my base of op may be there, my dear, but you know my biggest capital and business are here in Capital City. And I knew your shift would be over, so I came to check up on you. Good thing I caught you coming into this place, eh?"

Ezra inwardly sighed. "Yeah, guess so. Saves me the trouble of calling you at least."

The Devaronian chuckled and hailed over the waitress, ordering something for himself as well. "So tell me about work."

"It was fine," she barely refrained from muttering. "Worked on a TIE fighter, like always, and found a messed up screw that was the problem." She told him about going to Solarlast, reporting the problem, his reaction, and her request being easily granted and then delivered without her needing to go through the proper channels and paperwork necessary.

"Huh, he didn't even tell you to write up your debrief, huh? Or even put your request on paper and send it through the others," Vizago noted thoughtfully to himself. "Good. Sounds like he's getting impressed and looking passed you being a girl. Keep it up and maybe they'll completely overlook you being a female and let you become a pilot!"

She ignored his half-serious, half-mocking jab at her. He shook his head.

"Maybe if you keep at this, you can get an in for us with them, and a little more business will be coming our way," Vizago mused.

"I thought you didn't associate with Imperials," Ezra rolled her eyes and grabbed her drink, taking a long sip.

"I don't," he shrugged. "At least when it comes to information and helping them catch people. But money is money, no matter who or where from, Ezra. Don't forget that."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I hear it from you all the time," Ezra scrunched up her nose.

"Don't do stuff like that," Vizago snorted. "You look cute. The diners here will be scrambling after you, and I might have to sell you out to one of them for the day."

She scowled heavily at him, and he just gave her a look back.

"In any case, since you're doing a good job at this job of yours and looking like it's going to be a profitable venture in the future, you can skip tonight," Vizago said offhandedly. "Unless you want to work."

Ezra sat up straighter. "No, I'm fine. I can really skip tonight?" she tried not to sound too eager.

"Yeah, sure. You did good. Work at this, even if slowly, and screw by screw, we could land ourselves a good investment in the Imperial regime and make some big money," he nodded confidently.

It was always money to him, but she didn't really care at this point. So far that day, everything was going well.

Ezra had been heading towards her tower, when she caught sight of the TIE fighter. To be honest, she'd noticed it that morning, on her way to work. In fact, she'd seen it fighting against a ship first, before the other ship shot it down and it had crashed here, near to where she'd lived. She'd contemplated checking it and the pilot out, but it and the pilot were Imperial and she was getting late to work, so she'd decided against it and continued on.

She was surprised it was still here, and that it hadn't been hauled back to the city and into one of the factories to be fixed or otherwise salvaged for parts. She hesitated. Was the pilot alright?

"It's Imperial scum," she muttered to herself. "I don't care."

That's what she kept saying to herself as she continued on to her tower. However, something made her hesitate again and she suddenly changed directions, coming near the TIE fighter.

"Anyone there?" she called out.

When there was no answer, knowing she was going to regret this, Ezra cautiously came closer and climbed on top of the TIE fighter, popping the entrance open and peering inside. A slightly dazed pilot blinked lethargically and looked up blearily at her. He was rather handsome, if haughty-looking.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

He opened his mouth and she'd been prepared to start thinking of all the things she might need to help him, until he started talking –

"Get off my ship, girl," he said arrogantly.

Ezra stared at him blankly, before her eye twitched in annoyance and she 'complied' with his demand, irritably telling herself she'd known better and shouldn't have even bothered.

"Imperial scumbag," she spat out as she slid down the ship's side and feet landing on the ground.

She was about to stomp to her tower, when he called out.

"Wait!...Please," he reluctantly bit out the last part. "I've been here for hours," his voice had, now that she paid a little more attention, sounded hoarse like his throat was parched.

Thirsty then. And in this heat and at that time of the day, it was no wonder he clearly seemed dehydrated. Inwardly growling at herself, she once more climbed onto the ship and peered into the cockpit. Watching him and the area a little more closely, she realized he must've been sitting and hadn't moved too much in that cramped space, especially strapped to the chair as he was.

She also mentally took note of things that could be useful to steal and maybe sell on the black market, but nothing really worthy caught her eye. Years before, she might've not really cared and stolen what she could and what she thought would sell nicely, but years with Vizago had taught her what was more profitable and what was just junk and would be sold only for petty money. Nothing here was worth selling, not counting the helmet he had –those sold rather well, but she was tempted to keep it to herself and add it to her personal collection. His was rather well worn, indicating his more than casual use of it and of frequent flying, and she'd always had a soft spot for signs of personal touches.

"Why are you stuck there?" she asked.

He grimaced. "My harness is jammed and won't release. I can't cut my way out as I have nothing to cut the straps with. My ship's damaged, so I can't fly back and can't use the communication channels to ask for help. No one's found me here until you."

Ezra contemplated that it might have been a good idea if she'd gone to look for him that morning, instead of leaving him be…but she couldn't help but think that his much more cooperative (and dare she say civil) attitude was due to the long and rather sufferable hours being stuck strapped in that cramped cockpit with no water and the day steadily growing hotter.

"Wait a second," she said then, and reached for her backpack, finding her everyday carry. She flipped out a knife and then carefully leaned herself more into the ship, reaching for a strap and starting to cut through. Half in the ship and half out, Ezra was hoping she wouldn't fall in and awkwardly cramp up the cockpit any more than it was. Thankfully, she was able to cut through quickly and she leaned back out, just as he started shifting around and then followed her out of the ship, pulling himself up and out through the entrance.

He glared in the direction of Capital City, and she debated the merit of just leaving him there and quickly heading to her tower. But then she remembered that he was probably thirsty and searched through her backpack for her water bottle, and then thrust it towards him.

His lip curled. "You already drank out of that, didn't you?"

"Are you thirsty or not?" she asked hotly. "I could have sworn you kept saying how you were stuck in there for hours, and in this heat, you're probably parched. Either take it and drink some water, or dry out even more than you already are."

"Don't talk to me like that," he muttered, but took her water bottle anyway.

She was tempted to take her water bottle back and rescind the offer, and then just start marching back home without any further interaction with this jerk.

"Thank you," he added under his breath, so she grudgingly decided to let his pompous attitude slide. He growled and went back to glaring in Capital City's direction. "Great. I have to walk all the way to the city, and then inform them of my ship crashing here so they can get someone to haul it back."

Ezra started to panic. She didn't want any Imperial near here, and being so close to where she lived. It would be a complete nightmare if they found out she lived in that tower, and who knows what they'd do to her or to her home.

"I can fix your ship," she blurted out and he looked at her skeptically. "Well, I can. And besides, it's better than nothing, right? It's not like you have any other choice aside from walking to the city, and the ship's already damaged. What could it hurt?"

He started muttering under his breath, but he nodded sharply. She got to work, popping the undercarriage open and then looking inside. Her eyes zoomed around, taking note of the damage and what she needed to do.

"It's flyable," she said after her examination. "I can fix it and stabilize it enough that you have enough time to get it to the factory and have them look it over and replace the parts that really need replacing."

He sighed in aggravation. "Fine. Sounds doable. How long will it take you?"

"I don't know. Half an hour maybe? And I have to head home and grab a battery charger. Your batteries are completely shot," she'd noted of the almost drained batteries of the TIE fighter. "I suppose that dogfight you had with the other ship this morning used up a lot of energy, especially with the shots you were taking, but the batteries wouldn't be as drained as they are now just from that…"

Though looking embarrassed he hadn't known that, he shot her an irritated look. "You saw the fight this morning and saw me crash? Why didn't you come check on me then?"

Blank-faced, Ezra replied neutrally. "I wasn't sure I wanted to go check and help out an Imperial pilot."

He pursed his lips. "Wisecrack," he muttered, but that was all he said and did, so Ezra smirked to herself as she rummaged through her backpack for any tools she had, and thinking that maybe they were starting to get along after all.

This wasn't thought sarcastically at all.

She started fixing what she could, knowing those parts were too damaged to really be kept in the ship and that her fixing of them was only a quick fix until he could get the ship to a factory and get those parts replaced. The crash also loosened some bolts and screws she had tightened, and there was no way she could fix the TIE's cannons (not that she wanted to anyway). After all that, she still needed to get the battery charger so that the ship had enough energy to fly off.

"I've got to get that charger now," she eyed him warily. "I'll be back, so just stay here."

She quickly rushed off, not wanting him to really see the direction she was taking to head to her tower. Once there, she started panting at the almost sprint she'd took on. She found the elevator and had just entered it with the doors closing, when a hand shot out and stopped them from completely closing. Taken aback, she almost freaked out to see that pilot walk in curiously.

"Why are you here?" he asked just as curiously, though at least he was extremely less hostile than he had been in the beginning, though he'd been…kind enough then, if rude.

"Didn't I tell you to stay back there?" she gaped at him, wondering what in the galaxy was wrong with this guy.

He raised an eyebrow. "I'm not going to listen to you," he said stubbornly, and she mentally face palmed.

Why, again, was she helping him?

"I live here," she glared heatedly.

His fine eyebrows furrowed together. "This is a communications tower. An abandoned communications tower. You can't live here. And where's your parents?"

"I know what this place is," she grumbled irritably, just as they reached the top and headed to the door to her place. "And they're gone." 'Taken,' she wanted to spit out bitterly at him, but she kept it back. "Would you just stay here?" she asked exasperatedly.

But he ignored her and continued to follow right up to her door, where she opened it and went in. He calmly came in after her and looked around, while she ignored his presence and went to get the battery charger.

"I thought you might need help carrying the charger," he suddenly said unexpectedly. "So I decided to come too."

"I don't need any help. It's not that heavy," she huffed, finding it.

The truth was, while it was small enough to carry, it was rather heavy and especially since she had to carry it all the way to his ship. That wasn't even counting how she had to drag the thing back to the tower after she was done…

Still, even as she said that, he walked over and took it from her. She reluctantly muttered her thanks and started to head to her door, when he caught her off guard.

"You have a lot of helmets."

She flinched and turned to face him, seeing him looking at her wall of helmets she'd collected over the years.

"I collect them," she said with a frown, having no excuse on hand to give him except for the truth. "Or I sell them."

He glanced at her, but said nothing. He followed her out and they headed back to her ship in silence. Once there, she focused on her work and finished off any other repairs she was able to do, before setting up the charger and connecting it to the batteries of the ship. She warmed it up and then began the process of charging the batteries. She was thankful when it was all done and she could finally be rid of him.

"There, all set," she announced, disconnecting the charger. "Ready to take off?"

"Yeah, I guess I am," he said idly, the most amiable he had been the entire time. "Thank you," he said calmly, once again catching her off guard.

He then went into the cockpit and snugly sat down, pushing aside the ruined harness. He closed the door to it and started the engine, and then he was flying off. She watched his ship for a bit, before grabbing her backpack and then the charger (wincing at how warm it still was) and started to make her way back to her tower.

On her way there, she began wondering why her backpack felt heavier than it should be. Setting down the charger, she grabbed her backpack and opened it, before nearly gaping at what she saw inside. She pulled out the black helmet and stared.

Catching sight of some writing around the top, she moved it a little and stared some more.

Payment for your help. I wrote on this so you can't sell it. –Valen Rudor

She shook her head at the strangeness of it all, and snorted. Did he really think that just because he wrote on it, that she couldn't just paint over the writing or something?

Still, as she settled into her home and got comfortable, Ezra gently placed the helmet in a prominent spot in her collection.

It was time for sleep, in Ezra's opinion. Maybe it was a little early, but she was tired and had had a long day. She just wanted to lie down and close her eyes, and ignore everything.

Except for the persistent knocking on her door that wouldn't shut up.

"Ugh," Ezra pouted, lying on her bed and wanting to just hit her head against something and knock herself out.

Instead, she reluctantly got herself up and headed to her door, when she mentally groaned at who she saw when she opened it.

"Cikatro, what are you doing here?" she asked in bewilderment.

The Devaronian was scowling and looked tense. "Look, I need you to work tonight after all."

"What? But you said I didn't –!"

He cut her off. "Change of plans. We're going to be entertaining some very important guests, and I really need you to be there. So throw on a jacket and let's get going!"

Screwing up her face unhappily, Ezra did as she was told and hurried with Vizago out of there. As they rushed down the tower, she asked who was so important that he had to change his mind about her break.

"We got Imperials coming for a visit," Vizago grunted.

And Ezra froze in shock as she stared at his hurrying back.

"I said come on!"

She had to will her legs to start moving again.

Started 1/12/15 – Completed 1/13/15

A/n: I do like this story, but I admit it'll probably have slow updates. Maybe, maybe not. Depends on my writing mood. I don't really have high hopes of people reading it, since it's a genderbend and it's gearing up to be a darker fic than what's currently in the fandom right now…Ah well. I like it, so I'll keep writing it regardless. Please drop a review if you enjoyed!

Quick Points:

1. Strove Solarlast: is an OC, and may be semi-occurring. Not sure how important he'll become.

2. Vizago: will play a much bigger role than he does in the series.

3. Characterizations: Hopefully, everyone's in character for now, though I haven't gotten to Ezra's playful and joking side yet. Plus, with the story changes, things and people will be slightly different, if not completely.

4. Ghost crew: will definitely come in next chapter, though will probably start becoming a major part of the story in chapter three.

5. Changes: With the changes already set, you can see that some differences have occurred i.e. Ezra going to see Valen and his ship much later than what occurred in "Property of Ezra Bridger."

EDIT: Soooo, anyone actually willing to review?