Zeke has stayed fairly low-key since the fiasco he endured on Zeltros. During his recovery he sat in his captain's chair and groused, trying to figure out how to make his Jedi powers work again. Nothing had come to him though. All the sense of accomplishment he had once derived from just being Jedi was not there. So, now that his old job wasn't giving him happiness, what was?

Certainly not his new job. Sure, Zeke was excellent at the whole cargo delivery business, but it really wasn't a source of happiness. It was the means for him to get by. His wife had begun to worry about him, the way he'd stare off into space, and the increasing amounts of time he spent out and about alone during the crew's downtime.

Tonight was such a time. Zeke was out away from his family and crew, crouched atop a fire escape on the parking deck adjacent to the spaceport. He was dressed all in black; black pants, black shirt, black boots, black gloves, and another black shirt which he had fashioned around his head like a mask. The disguise made him feel silly, but it made it easy for him to Jedi without clueing people in to his identity. He had mentally dubbed himself "The Inexplicable Shirt Ninja", due to his total inability to explain his faltering powers to himself and his lack of capacity to explain his strange behavior to his wife.

Zeke leapt from the fire escape, landing softly atop a big, boxy transport vehicle that was headed into the city. He had a good feeling about tonight. It's time he won his powers back.