Okay but when are they going to start selling space waffles at Galaxy's Edge. Better yet, when are they going to start selling space waffle irons at Galaxy's Edge. Got a real hankering for space waffles right now
You, my friend, are a genius. If they did that, I would basically empty my bank account to go there and buy myself a waffle iron
THEY COULD BE IN THE SHAPES OF STAR WARS STUFF. *gasps* LIKE A LOTH CAT!!!!
Dang. Now I have a hankering for space waffles, too
Ezra watched Zeb as he leaned forward over his plate, closed his eyes and took a slow breath in, savoring the scent of the waffles. Zeb waved a hand above the plate, encouraging the smell to rise to fill his nostrils, and smiled like it was the most wonderful thing he had ever experienced. Ezra leaned forward too, and took a sniff himself. They smelled okay, but eating them would be better. He picked one up; it was still so warm it burnt his fingers. He shifted it in his grip, waiting for it to cool a little, then bit into it, tearing at it with his teeth. He kept the remainder in his hand as he chewed and swallowed.
Zeb watched, then shook his head critically. “You’re doing it wrong,” he said.
That made no sense. There was no wrong way to eat. Well, as long as you ended up with the food in your mouth, there was no wrong way to eat. Ezra bit his waffle again, taking a smaller bite this time, just in case that was the problem.
Zeb rolled his eyes and picked up the bottle of syrup. He had placed it on the table before he had served up the waffles, positioning it carefully in its usual place, to the top left of his plate. The triangular waffles were stacked artfully on the plate, one on top of another, but misaligned so that when he poured the syrup into the centre of the top waffle, it cascaded down all the sides in thin trickles and pooled in the bottom. Zeb looked down at his handiwork, and smiled in a very satisfied way.
“Wow,” Ezra said. Zeb looked up, surprised at the interruption to his ritual. “I knew you liked these, but I mean, you really like them, don’t you?”
“They’re pretty good,” Zeb told him, with a shrug. “Nothing like the ones we used to have back on Lasan though. When you bit into them, they had this kind of a crunch to them that you just don’t seem to be able to get anywhere else. They were firmer, too; had more substance to them. And bigger, obviously. These are barely two bites, even for you. They smell almost identical though.”
Ezra looked at the waffle appraisingly. It would have to be two really big bites, but he thought he could manage it. He wasn’t going to try it; he didn’t think Zeb would appreciate the attempt.
Zeb didn’t talk about his homeworld often, but Ezra knew it was a difficult subject for him. He couldn’t imagine what it must have been like to lose everything like that. His own meager losses paled in comparison to the enormity of an entire world; a people. “You must really miss it,” he said quietly.
Zeb combined a nod and a shrug into some kind of dismissive gesture of agreement. “The waffles?” he asked, deliberately misunderstanding. “Yeah, but these are a decent substitute.”
Ezra let the subject drop, there was no point explaining what he had meant, especially not when he was sure that Zeb already knew. Ezra had become an expert at dodging a subject recently, and he recognized it when he saw it in others.
Zeb reached for his fork. Holding it carefully in his large hands, he used the edge to cut one of the corners from the triangular waffle. Syrup spilled from the round indentations onto his plate. He speared the piece of waffle with his fork, ran it through the syrup on his plate, and put it in his mouth. He licked his lips, and smiled, like suddenly all was right with the world.
Ezra poured a blob of syrup on the side of his own plate, dipped his waffle and took another bite.
“So,” Zeb said. He broke off another chunk of waffle and put it in his mouth. “Go on then.”
Ezra frowned. The waffle was reaching the stage where it had cooled enough to begin to crisp up just slightly at the edges. He took a bite without syrup this time, savoring the crunch as his teeth bit into the thing. He wondered if they were more like the ones Zeb was used to, at that stage of the cooling process.
“What?” he asked.
“That was the deal. I give you waffles, you tell me what happened today.”
Actually, he had said that. Ezra had forgotten the second part of the deal, focussing only on the food.
“What makes you think something happened?” he asked.
Zeb sighed. He speared the final piece of his first waffle with his fork, dragged it around the edge of his plate soaking up stray syrup and leaving a sticky smear in its wake. He ate it, licked his lips, and looked at Ezra expectantly, waiting. He didn’t answer the question.
“Nothing happened,” Ezra told him.
Zeb got to work on his second waffle, chopping off the first corner and watching as syrup spilled onto his plate again.
“Really,” Ezra insisted. He wasn’t even lying. The more he thought over the events of the day — and he had done little else since he had left Kanan’s quarters after their first official lesson — the more he realized that really, nothing had changed.
He wasn’t any more grounded than he had been yesterday, just because he knew now what he needed to do to get back on missions. He wasn’t losing his sight any faster just because Kanan had started to tell him some of what he needed to expect. He was in exactly the same position now as he had been at the start of the day. A better one, in fact, because now he had some more information.
It wasn’t information that he particularly wanted, of course, but he recognized that they were things he needed to know.
Zeb scoffed as he popped another piece of waffle into his mouth. “So you expect me to believe that absolutely nothing happened today; you just spent the whole day sitting in a corner not talking to anybody?”
“No, obviously not.” Ezra sighed as he tried to think of the best way to explain. “It’s just, you’re thinking something bad happened and…” he stopped. He didn’t mean to; it was as though his throat closed up against his will, refusing to allow any more words to pass through. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes and his lips curled as he tried to force himself not to cry.
He didn’t need to cry. He had no reason to; nothing had happened, nothing had changed.
He put down his last bite of waffle, raised a hand to cover his mouth and forced out a cough in the futile hope that it would cover the shapes his face was making as he tried to stave off the embarrassing display. He was lying; something had happened, it was happening, and it was going to keep happening until…
Until it was done.
Until that day came when Hera accepted that he didn’t need those appointments with Noisi anymore.
There was going to be an upside to losing his sight after all…
He wasn’t going to say that, though. Even though Zeb would probably be pleased to hear another attempt at a joke, he just wasn’t in the mood; he didn’t want to talk about Noisi right now. Or ever, if he could help it.
Of course, he wasn’t really in the mood to talk about anything, but it didn’t look like he was going to be able to get away with that. He was going to have to say something, so he decided to go with the truth, or a version of it.
He took a deep breath and tried to force the tremble out of his voice. “Hera told me what I need to do to get back on missions,” he said carefully.
Zeb didn’t answer immediately. Ezra stared down at his plate, listening to the sound of chewing from the other side of the table. Finally, when he dragged his gaze up to see Zeb’s reaction, Zeb was looking at him, his eyes full of concern and understanding. Ezra scowled.
“She tricked me,” he said. No, she hadn’t, it had just felt that way at the time. He sighed and shook his head. “No, she didn’t, but I thought she was going to tell me I was back, then it turned out I have to jump through a bunch of hoops to even have a chance at maybe getting back on missions, and do you want know the worst part?”
Zeb didn’t reply, but he didn’t say no.
“They didn't even agree on it. Kanan and Hera, I mean. Hera just went ahead and made all these stupid decisions, and she didn’t even bother to find out what Kanan thought about it first. How is that fair? If they can’t even agree…”
“Why should they agree?” Zeb asked.
Ezra stopped, mid thought, and stared at him. “Because…” he said, “because Hera’s in charge of the crew, but Kanan’s in charge of…” of him? Of the Jedi? Of knowing about being blind? “Other stuff,” he finished.
Zeb nodded. He put down his fork, his plate empty. “Eat your waffles,” he said. “They’re not as good cold.”
Ezra looked down at his plate where two whole waffles and a piece of a third were waiting. They were fine cold, actually. But warm was good too. He picked up the last piece of his first one and shoved it in his mouth.
Zeb nodded, satisfied. “Hera’s in charge, period,” he said. “You don’t know this because you’ve never been in command. I don’t mean leading a mission, I’m talking about running a squadron, having to make all the decisions. She’s responsible for every man and woman in Phoenix Squadron. If something goes wrong, it’s on her; she has to live with it. Eat another waffle.”
Ezra blinked, momentarily confused by the sudden change of subject, but picked up a second waffle, dipped it in his syrup, and bit into it.
“A leader has to do what’s best for the mission, and sometimes that means making unpopular decisions. It wouldn’t have mattered if Kanan agreed or not, it’s up to her. If she wants to run things by someone else who might have different ideas, or who knows more about something, that’s fine, but she’s not obligated to do that.”
Ezra tried to reply around a mouthful of waffle, and realized why Zeb had been so insistent that he eat. “I know that…” he started to say.
“Yeah, you think you do, but until you’ve had to make those kinds of decisions, you don’t really know,” Zeb told him. “I had to make some pretty unpopular decisions myself, back when. It’s not nice, nobody likes it. But it’s the right thing to do.” He paused, glanced down at his empty plate, and then looked across the table at Ezra. “Don’t take this the wrong way, kid, but I’m with Hera on this one.”
Ezra finally swallowed the chunk of dry waffle. “You don’t even know what she said,” he protested.
“It doesn’t matter. That’s how a command structure works. But if she said you’re not ready yet, she’s right; you’re not.”
Ezra folded his arms and stared across the table at Zeb, not sure what to say to that.
“I don’t mean that how it sounds,” Zeb added. “You’re not supposed to be ready, not yet. Nobody could be.”
“Great, thanks,” Ezra said dejectedly. He picked up the syrup again, and this time poured it directly onto his remaining waffle, letting it pool in the round holes until it spilled over the edge onto the plate. He picked up his fork and speared the saturated waffle, raised the whole thing to his mouth, and took a large bite.
Zeb frowned as he watched. “So, these hoops you say you have to jump through,” he said. “What are they?”
Ezra took another large bite to buy himself some time while he decided how to explain. He lowered the remaining piece of waffle, still speared on his fork, to the plate and slowly dragged it in a circle around the edge, smearing syrup behind it.
“She gave me a choice,” he said. “I can either start being more honest, see the med droid regularly and have a contingency plan for anything that might go wrong on missions, or I can learn how to do everything I can now, but without seeing.”
Zeb nodded thoughtfully. Ezra lifted the final piece of waffle, dripping excess syrup, to his mouth and ate it slowly.
“So,” Zeb said finally. “You’re going with the second option?”
Ezra stared at him, surprised. “Yeah, actually. How did you know?”
“It makes sense. I mean, you’re going to have to be able to do that eventually anyway, right? You might as well get started now; doing something else instead might work for a short time, but sooner or later you’ll, well… you know.”
And he did. Zeb was right, and that was basically the same thing that Ezra had said himself, but hearing it coming from someone else, that almost casual acceptance of what was going to happen… It felt strange. “Hera thinks I should do the other thing,” he said. “Kanan too. And Sabine, I think.”
“Well, I’ll try not to be offended that you’ve talked to everyone but me about this.”
Ezra grinned. “Not everyone; I haven’t spoken to Chopper,” he said. “I mean, he probably knows already, but I haven’t told him. Anyway, you’re the only person who’s given me waffles, or who’s agreed with me.” Not about Hera making the decision on her own, but Zeb made a good point there. “You really think I’m doing the right thing?”
Zeb shrugged. “I don’t think there’s any way to know for sure,” he said. “Not until you try it and find out how it goes. But if you want to cover all your bases, do both. You can’t spend every moment learning from Kanan, and I don’t imagine you’d want to, so why not try the other things Hera suggested too? Who knows, you might find it helpful.”
“Going to see Noisi?” Ezra pulled a face. “That droid needs a full personality transplant, and it’s not like he can do anything to help, so what’s the point?”
He was rehashing old arguments now, the same ones he had used with Hera earlier in the day, and it wasn’t going to make any difference, especially because Zeb didn’t have any say in the decision.
“Because Hera told you to, and she’s in charge of deciding when you’re back on duty. You want to get back on duty, so…” Zeb tailed off, leaving the thought hanging in the air.
Ezra sighed deeply. Zeb was right.
“Or just do what it sounds like you were going to do anyway, forget the other stuff and learn how to do what Kanan does. But you know, being prepared to deal with whatever comes at you isn’t a bad thing, it’s something we should all be doing anyway, and don’t take this the wrong way, but there’s a lot more you’re going to have to think about going forward.”
Unless, of course, he learned how to do everything without seeing.
No, actually, even then. People he met were going to notice, and he was going to have to think about how he would deal with that. Even if he could reach Kanan’s level of awareness, he was still going to run into things that he just couldn’t do, because he knew that Kanan did. When that happened, he would need to know what to do about it.
“Yeah, I guess,” he muttered, then reached out an index finger and drew a line in the syrup pooling in the center of his plate. He brought it to his mouth and licked it away. He considered licking the plate, but that might be a step too far with Zeb sitting right there opposite him. Instead, he ran his finger across the plate again, in a zig-zag line this time.
“So that was the whole thing?” Zeb asked. “I’m getting the impression there’s more to it than that.”
“More to what? To what Hera said? No, that was about it.”
Zeb shook his head, then copied Ezra by dipping his own finger in the syrup left on his plate. “More to what’s bothering you. More to what happened today.”
Right. Well, he wasn’t wrong, but Ezra didn’t really want to get into the whole list of difficult truths Kanan had told him. He didn’t even want to think about them right now. Suddenly, he felt very tired, and he wondered what time it was. It hadn’t exactly been early when he had crept into their quarters.
He raised a hand to his mouth to stifle a yawn. “There’s not much more to it,” he said. “After Hera, I went to talk to Kanan.”
“Went to tell him what Hera had said?” Zeb caught the yawn, and Ezra watched him cover his own mouth with his whole arm and then blink heavily.
Ezra shook his head. “No, I thought he already knew,” he said. “I wanted to start some real lessons, what we’ve been doing so far’s been kinda…” non-existent. “Anyway, I guess I took him by surprise, since he didn’t actually know any of this was happening, and he’d just gotten out of the shower, and Hera beat me there, but he did tell me some stuff, and it was…” he stopped again, took a deep breath that turned into another yawn, “…truthful,” he said quietly.
He watched as Zeb’s frown of incomprehension turned into understanding, and looked away, not wanting to see pity in his eyes.
“Which I guess is a good thing, but at the time it just felt…”
“Cruel.”
Ezra blinked, and looked back up at Zeb, surprised at the vehemence in his tone.
“Kanan of all people should know how not to handle this. Want me to talk to him?”
“What?” Ezra shook his head. “No. It wasn’t like that. It was stuff I want… needed to know.” He leaned forward, resting his head in his hands as he continued to turn it from side to side in denial of Zeb’s misunderstanding. “It’s fine, it just wasn’t great timing, but that was my own fault. And it wasn’t as bad as you’re thinking.”
Zeb sighed. “Okay, kid. Your call; you were there, not me. But I remember what Kanan was like back when you first came back from Malachor, and if this is dragging up those memories for him — and how could it not be? — just make sure you don’t let him scare you.”
“Any more than I already am, you mean?” Ezra said, the words slipping out before he could stop them.
“Yeah. Exactly. You want more waffles? I’m sure I saw another pack at the back of the cabinet.”
Ezra smiled and shook his head. “You still won’t admit you have your own supply.”
“That’s right, because I don’t. You want some, or not?”
“No.” Ezra shook his head and stuffed another yawn. “I should probably get to bed.”
He reached for his plate to clear it away, but Zeb stopped him with a hand on his arm. “I’ll do it,” he said. “There’s a special technique for destroying the evidence of midnight waffles. One day I might even teach you.”
Ezra pushed his plate a little closer to Zeb, and shook his head. “Better leave it a while, I’m going to have enough to learn for the time being.”
Zeb has a secret stash of space waffles hidden on the Ghost. While he thinks that no one else knows where they are, Sabine and Ezra secretly get up in the middle of the night sometimes and raid the stash together.
Hello everyone! I’ve been taking a little break from 2D to learn 3D. Here’s a model I made of space waffles and a loth wolf bowl inspired by Etruscan ceramics and the Rebels Season 4 time traveling portal.
I also created a fluid simulation of honey to the best of my ability at the moment. I had trouble keeping it from going through my bowl + making it stringy enough + giving the objects friction (could not find slip type settings on 2.91 to play with them oop).
Anyway, although this process was a lot of troubleshooting, I really enjoyed the process and the results. :D I hope to make more fanart 3D models in the future!
