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xxbottlecapx · 1 year

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I liked your post about Steve having focal seizures and Eddie figured it out because he happened to be familiar with them because of past experiences, but tbh Robin seems like she could also be someone who could pin that down. We've seen her talk about medical stuff before, specifically with the rabies rant, but I'd like to think she often looks at conditions and she finds them morbidly interesting. Can I get a version where Robin is the first to notice? I'm thinking Billy caused them, but they happen seldom until the Russians make them worse, so she notices something but doesn't piece together that he's not just being stupid until after the Russians, but you can decide how you want to do it if you even decide to

You are absolutely right. I’m not entirely proud of how this came out but this is what I got, I hope it’s okay 💜💜

1985 scoops ahoy, before the fire.

Robin didn’t know much about Steve Harrington.

Well, that was a lie. She was a people watcher, after all. Robin knew a lot about Steve Harrington. She knew he had been the self proclaimed (Tommy-proclaimed) King of Hawkins High. That is, until Billy Hargrove smashed his face in and Steve started rolling around with a band of middle schoolers. His downward spiral had started with Nancy Wheeler and ended with Billy Hargrove (and Jonathan was, she had been told, somewhere in the mix.)

Steve was bad at school but good with people, bad at reading but good at speaking, bad at instruments but good with sports. Good at making friends but bad at keeping them.

He had graduated alone. No one was there with him when he left Hawkins high that final time. As far as Robin was aware, no one seemed to care when he left at all. Robin only noticed because she was a people watcher. She liked to know things. She liked to know things about people in any way she could. At first it had just been her wanting to mimic whatever it was that King Steve did that made Tammy Thompson like him, but it quickly became a fascination. She couldn’t even tell you why. But the longer she watched him, the more intrigued she got. Especially after Billy Hargrove.

Either way, no matter what she did or did not know about Steve Harrington; The Steve Harrington she knew of from highschool was definitely not the Steve Harrington that applied to Scoops Ahoy.

“Hi, uh, I’m- Steve,” The King Steve said. He was wearing the proper Scoops Ahoy Gear, but his hat was one backwards.

Robin hadn't been told she was getting a new coworker. Yesterday, Daksha seemed absolutely fine. But today she was gone. And in her place was the former King Steve, in all his lack of glory.

“What about Daksha?” Robin said instead of greeting him in kind. He hadn’t been a nice guy. Never picked on her specifically, but Tommy sure did.

Steve doesn’t seem miffed by her deferral.

“Who?”

Robin rolls her eyes, grabs his hat to put it on him correctly, and hands him Daksha’s scooper. It was bright pink, bedazzled. She expected some sort of denial but Steve only holds the scooper so stiffly she thinks he might break the handle.

“I’m Steve.” He blinked rapidly.

Robin crossed her arms, leaning against one of the tubs of icecream that she liked to steal from when her manager, Kanan, wasn’t looking. She wondered if he would tell on her.

“Yeah, I know”

“Sorry, sorry, who-“ he squinted at her, then shook his head and pulled in his shorts. They were definitely too short for him. “Who are you?”

Robin thinks about the name tag on her shirt in bright teal. “Moira.”

“Nice. Uh. What do I do?” Steve takes it in stride, wandering around the room without any deemed purpose. He swallows hard once, twice, and follows Robin as she opens up shop. She makes him sweep the floor three times and he doesn’t complain once.

Eventually, she has to turn the closed sign around. “Use that Harrington charm to get more tips.” She tells him when he just blinks at her some more. “I’ll handle scooping for now.”

Robin is a people watcher. She learns that a few things on her Steve Harrington list need an upgrade.

The Steve Harrington from Scoops Ahoy was nothing like Steve Harrington from Hawkins High. For one thing, that Harrington charm? Didn’t exist anymore.

This is how the You Rule, You Suck board is born.

“Why’s there a scar in your head?” She asks him, about a month into working together.

“Uh- got in a fight.” Is all she gets. She stares at his shaking hands, and doesn’t mention it again.

She doesn’t have to, it seems, because the middle schoolers that follow Scoops Steve around like a flock of confused ducklings are very quick to sing his praises.

“You know Billy Hargrove?” Dustin asks one day. He’s hiding in the break room with her. A dude had been hitting on her for weeks so whenever she sees him, Steve takes his order and Robin flees. She sits on the table and stares intensely on the bundle of bananas right next to her. They’ve become Steve’s favorite food.

“Who doesn’t?” She says in answer. Robin was, after all, still in school.

She hasn’t known Dustin long, and she doesn’t really understand how or why Steve likes him so much, but she does know that Dustin can talk for hours.

“I heard you asking Steve about that scar on his head. Billy, he had a thing against Lucas dating his sister,” Dustin starts, and Robin sighs before hanging herself half off the table despite her clear interest. She couldn’t let Dustin find out he had gotten her attention.

“Because Lucas is black, so Max and I and Lucas were hiding at his house- for unrelated reasons, and Steve had to fight Billy or Billy was gonna kill Lucas.”

Robin sits up so quickly she almost throws up.

“It wasn’t good. Billy slammed his head in the ground a lot and hit him with a plate. We thought Steve was dead but then Max drugged Billy so we got out all right.” Robin isn't even able to process that information before Dustin is walking out the backdoor that leads to the theater. “I don’t even think Steve went to the hospital after.”

It’s that last line that makes Robin look just a little bit harder, later in that day, when Steve’s hand is trembling too much for him to write on the chalkboard.

And that faint fascination that Robin had previously had on King Steve quickly hopped like a flea on to Scoops Steve.

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

There are many things that Robin knew about Scoops Ahoy Steve.

She knew he had a favorite scooper- one that was just a little larger than the rest, with a different type of handle. Easier to hold, he said.

She knew he couldn’t read what was on the menu, and that when she made him write their Scoop Of The Day on the chalkboard, the words didn’t always make sense (sometimes there wouldn't even be letters, just scribbles).

She knew he couldn’t charm a girl to save his life, and sometimes when he spoke, the words didn’t make sense. She knew that sometimes his hands couldn't grab things (usually only for a minute at a time) and he liked to stare into space until she had to wack him upside the head.

She also knew that Scoops Steve was very likely her best friend. Robin of a few months ago would have rioted at the very thought. But he was funny, and really nice, if a little confusing sometimes. He loved his little gremlin children and let her talk about her favorite interests that no one else was interested in (like zoonotic diseases, the differences in grammar structures in certain languages, and the central nervous system)

Like Dustin said; A little dumb, slow on the uptake, but kind.

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Robin knows a lot about Steve Harrington. Things that she knows no one else knows.

She knows that he purposefully harassed the Russian guards so they would beat him instead of her. She knows he spent his senior year fighting monsters, probably also did it before that. She knows that for all that confidence Steve exudes, he is achingly lonely. She knows that despite Steve not knowing anything about the queer community, his first instinct isn’t to belittle her, but to crack jokes to make her laugh. Even high off his ass, his immediate response was to try and make her feel better. The popular, rich, straight white guy treated her better in that moment than anyone else she had ever met.

Most of all, she knows what it feels like to lay bleeding in an underground Russian bunker and believe, if only for a second, that Steve is dead.

1986, Family Video, before Vecna.

Robin grabbed a Terry’s Bitz bar from the candy section up front and tore into it. She hadn’t been able to eat at school. Every once in a while she would somehow get reminded of the Russian elevators and all that untapped trauma would leak out of her. Steve was, at this point, her emotional support human, and she really wished he hadn’t graduated, just like that guy Eddie Munson in her band class. She doubted she would ever get to talk to that one, though.

She could hear Steve mumbling where the fuck am I? At the register before turning around and ducking under the register to grab at a fallen tape.

“That one goes in the aisle with the pink stickers.” Robin reminds him. She had put small colorful stickers on each row of shelves because Steve had a hard time distinguishing what she wanted if she just said aisle three.

Steve stared into space for a moment before nodding and walking that way with the tape, his left hand making a fist, relaxing, making a fist again.

As always, Robin follows Steve around even when she isn't scheduled to work that day. It just means she gets to hang out with her best friend and laugh at him when he has to organize shelves by himself, taunting him about her Freedom. She does her biology homework behind the counter, staring at a map of the musculoskeletal system.

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

There are a lot of differences between Scoops Ahoy Steve and Family Video Steve.

Scoops Ahoy Steve couldn’t write legible sometimes, maybe 2 times a week. Family Video Steve couldn't write anything legible sometimes too, but five times a week instead of 2. Robin knows because she’s counted.

Scoops Ahoy Steve didn’t get migraines (only headaches). Family Video Steve did. Scoops Ahoy Steve didn't throw up three times a week the way Family Video Steve did. Scoops Ahoy Steve didn't see the need to join Robin’s Yoga class offers the way Family Video Steve very easily caved into it.

Don’t get her wrong- there are good differences, too. Family Video Steve will casually joke about her stealing his dates in a way Scoops Ahoy Steve didn't. Family Video Steve shared secrets with her, was more patient, acted less like a mom and more like an annoyed brother. Family Video Steve could admit he had a massive crush on the guy that ran the Hellfire club, who he's never talked to since he only sees him when he picks Dustin up (and of course, pretends to hate him). Family Video Steve, somehow, was even more of a best friend than Scoops Ahoy Steve.

And Robin was a people watcher. That faint fascination she had taken to King Steve was now focused full-fledged on Family Video Steve. Her best friend. Her favorite person in the world, who sometimes forgot where he was, sometimes had bouts of confusing emotions he didn’t know how to deal with, moments where he struggled getting words past his lips, and trembling hands and legs that sometimes made him drop the tapes he organized at Family Video.

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

I tried to get Steve to help me with my math homework, she had heard Dustin say. but I don’t know what this says.

You could have asked me, doofus. Steve can’t write for shit. Was Erica's reply.

Robin knows that they don’t know that Steve heard them. This is also how she knows that it must be a bad day. Steve can write, she’s seen him do it, it’s just hard on other days. And his emotions can make things worse. She knows it’s going to be a bad day not because of Steve’s writing, but because she knows he heard Dustin and Erica say it.

Robin was a people watcher. She knows that Steve’s picked up on whatever it is that changed him. Maybe he hadn’t, before the Russians, but she did. She knew him before the illegal drugs and head trauma that changed Scoops Steve to Family Video Steve. When she looked back, and remembered King Steve, even more differences were apparent.

Despite the party’s claim that they were all baby geniuses, none of them have picked up on it. It didn’t make sense. But then Robin tried to think harder, use her deduction skills.

Steve had protected these kids for years. They called him their mother. Children often can’t find fault with their parents. Sure, the party was old enough to start seeing it, but trauma can affect young minds in really confusing ways. It was very possible that the upside down had hurt their little group of freshmen (and Erica) in ways they couldn’t see. OCase in point- their protector, Steve, was different now. It’s possible they were, deep down, afraid of what it would mean if there was more change added to their traumatically changing lives. Steve was a pillar to them. More of a hero of stories than man.

So she tries to give them a pass. She really does. But she sees the look on Steve’s face when Dustin says it. Steve would never admit it, but Dustin and Erica were his favorites. Robin knew that what they thought mattered more than anything. Anyone else making jabs at Steve’s intelligence washed off him like he was covered in healthy duck feathers. And Steve wasn’t an idiot the way they thought he was. Your ability to hand-write or speak didnt dicacte your intelligence. They were just teenagers who hadn’t been taught that yet.

Dustin and Erica weren’t inherently malicious. She knew they weren’t. She would just have to find a way to show the party that Steve wasn’t an idiot.

Of course, only three days later, a cheerleader dies in a drug dealer's basement, and her whole world is torn apart.

1986, Borders Book Store, after Vecna.

Robin couldn’t take it anymore. On her day off, she rushes to the library, which had very narrowly escaped the Vecna-induced earthquake. It had taken 2 weeks to kill him properly, but they had done it. That didn’t mean the town was allowed to quickly forget, though.

Luckily for Robin and Steve, so many people moved away that there were multiple job casings still open. This was good because Steve got fired 2 times and whenever Steve got fired, Robin left too. Despite his very clear pros (like being a chick magnet) other places of employment didn’t fit him.

Anyways. Robin checks herself into the cramped biological sciences section. She takes out a list of symptoms written on ratted yellow lined paper from her back pocket, and she starts to read.

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

“What?" Steve replies, later, when she comes to him with an improvised list and a stolen library textbook.

“Please, just listen.” She begged. They were on the floor, behind the counter of their current workplace. Sometimes if the streetlights were flashing, they’d get too scared to go home and just spend the night here. “It explains everything.”

“I can't- no, Robin.” He crossed his arms, then held himself in a tiny ball. His shoulders hunched in on themselves. “I know what a seizure looks like.” He whispered.

“You know what one type of seizure looks like.” Is Robin’s rebuttal. “There are so many different kinds.”

Steve swallowed hard once, twice, his left hand clenched and unclenched a few times. He nods, and lets her open the book.

And öh, but of course, Sources

Steve’s favorite food being bananas comes from this site, sometimes bananas help with epileptic seizures https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC5855373/

Some of Steve’s symptoms come from here https://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/seizure/symptoms-causes/syc-20365711

Some tips for what to do when someone has a seizure https://www.nationwidechildrens.org/conditions/seizure-care

One of Robin’s special interests is the central nervous system, which houses the brain, which is typically where seizures come from/originate. https://kidshealth.org/en/teens/brain-nervous-system.html

80’s Candy references, I cant promise you these were available in Indiana so just ignore that if they weren’t https://www.eightieskids.com/greatest-chocolate-bars-1980s/5

Steve’s spasms in his hands during seizures are caused by the connection of the brain to the musculoskeletal system, https://my.clevelandclinic.org/health/diseases/14526-musculoskeletal-pain

Steve self-rehabilitates himself with Yoga, it's a recommended exercise use for seizure patients https://lonestarneurology.net/blog/physical-activity-in-epilepsy/

I don’t know how libraries work since I’ve never been to one so if there’s inaccuracies, ignore it

And of course, If my interpretation of a focal seizure is inaccurate, I do apologize. this one was a bit more general in the 'brain damage' section, though.

#steddie #steddie if you squint #its like one line #platonic stobin #stobin friendship #steve and robin are platonic soulmates #robin buckley #steve harrington #steve has seizures #focal seizures #plot bunny #friendship #this is my emotional support bimbo and his emotional support lesbian attack dog #codependent stobin #robin and steve #steve has brain damage #stranger things vol 1 #stranger things s4 #stranger things

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martianbugsbunny · 1 year

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Don’t You Know It’s Because He Loves You? (A Kalluzeb Fic)

Hey lovies! Also had this sitting in my drafts, for no reason other than I am allergic to tagging Tumblr posts, but in light of a certain cameo which shall remain unnamed (even if context has probably given it away here tbh) I decided to just go ahead and tag it so I could post it. This lil thing was hexpecially fun (and yes, I am also an EAH fan) because I splashed in a bit of Lasat culture headcanon, which is one of the Kalluzeb tropes ever. Read on and enjoy!

Kallus threw his jacket at the wall, flexing his bloody bicep as pain shot through the muscles. “Why did he do that?” he demanded, of nobody in particular. “He didn’t throw anyone else aside like that.” He swallowed, tears and bitterness choking him. “He still doesn’t trust me.”

Ezra stared at Kallus in surprise. “I thought you knew,” he said. His tone was sincere, but Kallus still searched it—and his expression—for mockery.

“Knew what?” he sighed.

Ezra’s face shifted, as though he wasn’t quite sure how to go on, or if he even should. “Alright. Well…okay. Okay, the first thing is, Zeb didn’t throw you out of the way on that mission because he didn’t trust you to get the job done right. He did it to protect you.”

“He doesn’t do that.”

“Not for other people, no.”

Kallus bit back a sharp comment. “I’m still not seeing the point,” he said tersely.

“On Lasan, he was a member of the Honor Guard. You probably already know that. In the Guard, it was typical not to interfere with another person’s part in battle. It was dishonorable. It showed that you didn’t respect that person as a warrior.”

“I feel so much better,” Kallus grumbled. He sat down, his head in his hands. His sleeve was stiff with dried blood; he was acutely aware of the pain, now that his battle adrenaline was fading, but too tired to visit the medic just yet.

“He doesn’t protect me, or Kanan, or Sabine like that, because he’s following the traditions that dictated the first decades of his life. But on Lasan, there was also a rule that you could—Zeb sometimes says ‘should’—protect the person you loved. It’s a two-way thing, too; it sort of means you trust someone enough to put your life in their hands, which was the highest honor possible in the Honor Guard. It doesn’t make total sense to me, I’ll admit, but—Kallus, are you alright?”

At first he thought his head was spinning from blood loss. Maybe it was, how should he know?

Then he realized what it really was. The words were sinking in and he was lightheaded from joy. Fear. More joy.

He got up and left Ezra standing in the cargo bay, confused. Kallus wanted to laugh aloud, but was already running and didn’t have the breath to spare.

“Garazeb!”

He shouted the name the second he got within eyesight of Zeb. (Not that it was hard to be within eyesight of him; he was seven feet tall, at least.)

“Kal?” Zeb sounded confused…Kallus couldn’t blame him. He would’ve been confused, too.

“Why did you protect me?” he asked, out of breath. “Tell me why.”

Zeb’s bright green eyes flickered. He reached out to touch Kallus’ arm. “You should go to the medical center,” he said quietly.

“You’re protecting me again,” Kallus replied with equal softness. “Please tell me it’s true.”

“Who tried to explain it?” Zeb asked, his pointed ears flattened against his head.

“Ezra,” Kallus said, trying to keep the triumph from his voice. Zeb growled, rolling his eyes. “Garazeb?”

Zeb rubbed one clawed hand up and down his opposite arm, nervous or uncomfortable—Kallus wasn’t quite sure which. He hoped it wasn’t the latter. “First: he is going to pay for saying anything,” Zeb grumbled. “And second…yeah. The kid’s right. I protected you—I always protect you—because I’m…in love with you.”

Kallus finally gave in to the urge and laughed. Zeb stepped back; Kallus realized in that moment Zeb probably hadn’t heard him really laugh before. “I promise I’m not laughing at you,” Kallus assured him. “I’m just—I’m thrilled,” he said happily, shrugging his shoulders. Zeb’s ears perked up, and his eyes widened a bit.

“I love you too, Garazeb. Your life is safe in my care.”

#alexsandr kallus #garazeb orrelios #kalluzeb #Ezra bridger #Star Wars #Star Wars rebels #lasat culture hc #kalluzeb fic #sw rebels fic #fic Friday #martianbugsbunny writes fic

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hailperseusjackson · 6 months

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trick or treat!

hi! to help soothe the pain of rebels s4, here is some tender kanera fluff <3 this is part of an immediate post s3 kanera fic i’ve been working on that hopefully maybe will get finished soonish lol

“You don’t need these,” her pads of her fingers brushed featherlight over his eyes, the scar across his lids and bridge of his nose. “I know it’s not the same. And I know there’s no way I can ever understand what it’s like for you, not being able to see. But you see me in a way that no one else can.”

Kanan worried at his bottom lip to try and keep his chin from trembling. He knew she was trying to comfort him—and he should’ve known it would work. It soothed him to know that his lack of sight didn’t bother her. That was something she’d made clear from the moment he’d returned from Malachor, but hearing her express it now eased something inside him that he’d long thought haunted.

But still, something else gnawed at him.

Hera could tell, too, because she said, “Talk to me. What else is bothering you?”

“I just…” he smoothed his hands down her sides, fingers bumping over the lines of her bra, then down the smooth skin of her sides until he reached the waistband of her basics. And maybe that was his answer. It wasn’t about seeing her naked—not really. But she was beautiful, and he loved her body. He wanted to be able to worship it in the way she deserved. He sighed, cheeks heating. “It seems shallow, but—I miss looking at you. Seeing all of you. I can touch you,” he pressed his thumbs gently into her hipbones for emphasis, “feel you. I know what you look like, but I miss really, truly seeing you.”

He heard the slight hitch in her breath. Then, with a thumb sweeping once over his cheek, “It’s not shallow. I would miss seeing your handsome face, too.” He smiled a little at that, and she pressed on, “But remember what I said—you can see me in a way no one else can. Through the Force.”

He blinked. He—hadn’t thought of that.

Hera took one of his hands, pressed it against her heart so he could feel the beat of it against the flat of his palm. “You can see me—feel me—through the Force. So, tell me what I look like through the Force.”

His breath left him in a shaky exhale. His eyes welled up with sudden tears. How did he even begin to describe how she felt in the Force?

Kanan closed his eyes, focusing on the beat of her heart, the rise and fall of her chest as she inhaled, exhaled, inhaled. He matched his breaths to hers, sinking into a semi-meditative state. The warm light of the Force surrounded him, surrounded her.

Tell me what I look like through the Force.

“You’re brilliant,” he whispered in answer. Like all the stars in the galaxy had made a home inside her heart.

“You shine—you’re so bright.” Like a beacon calling him home.

“And you feel like…” the corners of his mouth pulled up as a sense of peace washed over him. The fullness of his chest ached with every ounce of love and devotion he felt for her.

She was so grounded, an anchor for any instincts that told him to run and run and never look back. Never get attached. Because that’s when the bad things happened. She held him in place, dependable as the earth underfoot. And at the same time, she soared—as wild and open as the space between the stars.

She was light and hope. He’d spent a year in the dark now, but he would recognize her anywhere, no matter how far. She was threaded into his very soul; her signature in the Force as much a part of him as his own presence.

He would never be able to put that all into words, how the Force felt when it enveloped her, intertwining with the Force around him. But he could try.

He swallowed, not even sure how loud he was speaking as he said, “You feel free. You’re like the sky, the wind.” Like a breath of fresh air whenever he felt like he was drowning. “You told me once that flying is like a feeling and that’s what you feel like.”

He didn’t open his eyes until he felt wetness splash against the hand he still held against her heart. He heard Hera’s slight sniffle and he reached both hands up to cup her cheeks, wiping away her tears with his thumbs.

ask box trick or treat (fic writer’s edition)

#asks #answered #my writing #kanera #swr #mik chats

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lamaenthel · 5 months

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Tivaevae | Chapter Nine: The Needle

Still struggling to emotionally recover from Master Obi-Wan's deception, Ahsoka discovers in the aftermath that twelve-year-old Boba Fett has been locked up among adults in the Republic Judiciary Central Detention Center. After convincing Chancellor Palpatine to grant him a pardon, she manages to secure his release on the condition that she serve as his legal guardian. Now, with the help of Master Plo and the Wolfpack, she vows to help him track down what family he has left.

| AO3 | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 |

Fandom: Star Wars Characters: Ahsoka Tano, Boba Fett, Plo Koon, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Mace Windu, Kanan Jarrus, Sheev Palpatine | Darth Sidious, CT-27-5555 | ARC-5555 | Fives, CC-1119 | Appo, Dexter Jettster, FLO | WA-7 (Star Wars), Shaak Ti, ARC Commander Blitz (Star Wars), CT-6922 | Dogma, Original Clone Trooper Character(s) (Star Wars), CC-3636 | Wolffe, Clone Trooper Sinker (Star Wars), Clone Trooper Comet (Star Wars), CC-2224 | Cody, CT-5597 | Jesse, CT-4860 | Boost, Aurra Sing, Tobias Beckett, Null-11 | Ordo Skirata, Kal Skirata, Original Mandalorian Characters (Star Wars), Original Droid Characters (Star Wars), Original Jedi Character(s) (Star Wars) Total Word Count: 123,000 Chapter Word Count: 8,690 Chapter Summary: Boba and Ahsoka come home, Rex and Cody have a discussion about what to do regarding Ahsoka, and Ahsoka discovers a traitor in the barracks.

Boba gave the turbolaser cannons one last, wistful look. "Shame we didn't get to actually use them."

Ahsoka helped hoist Boba's rucksack up onto his shoulders. He hoped the twenty kilos of beskar plates didn't yank him backwards once she let go. "Use what?" she asked.

"The cannons. You should have let me shoot the weather matrix." Boba squeaked once Ahsoka let go of her share of the weight. He adjusted the ruck and rolled his shoulders.

Ahsoka snickered. "I'm pretty sure we're in enough trouble as is for threatening to do it."

"I thought Koon smoothed it over with the Council," Boba said, trying not to wheeze. Beskar was fucking heavy.

"He gave his report to Master Windu." Ahsoka made a face. "I received… several messages about it from my Master. We'll see."

"Have we remembered everything?" Plo asked them as they joined him in the airlock.

Ahsoka shrugged. "I couldn't find the robes that I wore on Geonosis anywhere."

"I have them. I will repair the sleeve for you tonight." Plo lowered the docking ramp. "I must report back to the Temple, and I have some business to attend to first, but I will have it done by morning."

"What kind of business?" Boba asked before he could stop himself.

"Jedi business." Plo patted him on the head.

"If you're too busy I can ask Master Kenobi to fix it. His stitchwork is a lot neater than mine or Anakin's." Ahsoka said it casually and picked at her cuticles.

Boba raised an eyebrow and resisted the urge to remind her that she wasn't talking to the old fart.

"That is an excellent idea." Plo's face crinkled up in a smile. He fished out the bundle of her ruined robes from his satchel and handed them over.

She tucked them into her own bag. "See you in the morning, then?" She hugged Master Plo goodbye.

"Bright and early." Plo squeezed her one last time, then winked at Boba. "Remember, young man, no burning the barracks down."

Boba rolled his eyes. "Whatever." Robert's head stuck out from under his arm and the tooka doll was being strangled in the zipped-up top of his rucksack. "Where is everyone?" he asked, looking around after Plo had reboarded The Babasta.

"Well–" Ahsoka checked her chrono. "It's just after 1900. They'll have all headed out to the bars by now. This place is dead when they've got any sort of shore leave, they like to milk it." She guided him towards the interior. "Let's lock up the beskar'gam in Rex's office, then we can head out and grab some food."

"In your jammies?" Boba asked, eyeing the red linen sleeping robe she wore like a tunic over her gray leggings. With long sleeves and a tie enclosure at the waist, it looked more or less like the same Jedi osik she had started the trip wearing, but thinner and a lot shorter.

"Everything's covered up," she replied. She stuck her tongue out at him.

"You got your own ride?" Boba asked stiffly, readjusting the heavy strap.

"My Master messaged a few minutes ago to say that he'll be here as soon as his strategy meeting is over with." She pushed him forward a little when he tilted backwards on the short ramp leading to the interior. "How's Biscuit Baron sound?"

"Sweet," Boba squeaked. He staggered down the hall and did his best impression of a human that didn't need oxygen. Ahsoka patiently guided him towards Tiarek's office, unlocked the door, and flicked on the lights.

"We'll close it up in the locker," Ahsoka said, helping slide the sack from his shoulders. Boba held his composure for a few more seconds before he let out a long, shuddering breath, dropped his shebs on Tiarek's rack, then gave up the fight and started panting from the exertion.

Ahsoka snickered and secured the locker after entering in the twenty-digit passcode and dropping the bag inside. "Do you think someone will steal them?" Boba panted.

She scrunched her nose up in amusement. "Nobody would steal them, but the odds of someone borrowing them to take a few holopics in is pretty high." She pinged something on her commlink. "Oh, good, Rex is still here. Let's go say hi."

Boba's anxiety returned and hit him like a speederbus. He never should have shown her the holopics, he knew that, but it just… it had felt like the right thing to do, and Dad had taught him to never ignore his gut when it spoke that strongly to him.

"What's the matter?" she asked, frowning.

"Are you going to tell him what I said?" Boba asked, nervously fidgeting with Robert's claws.

"I planned on talking about it with him, yes." Her eyes darted around his head for a few seconds, like she was tracking an insect, then she took a seat next to him. "Why does that make you nervous?" she asked gently.

"Every time I try, he argues with me over it. He was so sure that it never happened that he even had me doubting it." Boba sighed. "I don't know. Maybe you should just leave it alone."

"Is that what you want, or are you afraid of what might happen if I do?" she asked softly.

"Fuck, I don't know. I never should have said anything, I just…" Boba trailed off miserably.

"You just want your brother back," Ahsoka finished for him. "That's why you were so upset about the lockbox going missing, right?"

Boba nodded. "Maybe the holopics will be enough." He doubted it. Tiarek would find some way to rationalize it, or just flat out deny that it was him. If he had the art they made, or the journal that Mama had left behind, maybe he would have at least accepted it instead of flat denying everything. "I just wish it never happened. That there was just some Force osik that could undo it."

"Tell me about it." Ahsoka said wryly. "Unfortunately, that's not how the Force works. I wish it did, trust me. I know what it's like to wish that you could just go back to before the bad thing happened, but you can't. You just have to keep going forward and not look back." She went misty eyed and distant for a few moments, then she bumped his shoulder and smiled. "If it eases your mind, I'm not going to bring it up to Rex just yet. He deserves to know, but I need to meditate about it before I can make the decision on how to approach it with him." Her stomach growled loudly. "And maybe eat a nerfburger or six," she added with a snicker, and he huffed a little laugh in return. "It looks like Rex is in the officer's lounge. You remember where that is, right?"

Boba scooted forward off of the mattress with Robert under his arm and scowled, repeating yourememberwherethatis? in a whiny voice under his breath.

Her face went oddly vacant for a second and she clapped a hand over the back of her neck.

"What?" Boba asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Just a chill," she assured him, then put him in a headlock.

"Oi!" Boba squawked.

"Come on, Bo'ika, race you to the turbo-lift," Ahsoka teased, dragging him out into the hall. "And no throwing elbows this time."

Boba twisted out of her loose grip. "You need a head start?" he asked innocently, eyeing the hallway for obstacles. If he was going to beat her and her long fucking legs, he was going to need an advantage.

"Do you?" Ahsoka taunted back. She backed up to the end of the hallway and crouched down into a starting squat, planting her heel against the wall. "Ready?"

Boba mimicked her, smirking. "On three?"

"One," she began, tilting her rump towards the ceiling.

"Two." Boba grinned fiercely and vibrated with anticipation.

"Three!" They both shoved off the wall and sprinted towards the turbo-lift. A shiny happened to wander out of the first-floor fresher at the exactly the wrong moment… for Ahsoka, at least. Boba hip-checked her towards the trooper and ran for it, cackling like a po'ackster.

"Boba!" Ahsoka shrieked. He heard a kerfuffle and a frantic apology, then he tripped over his own feet as she scampered past him on all fours like a giant orange tooka. He landed hard and slid a few feet, wheezing with laughter.

Ahsoka reached the elevator first and spun on her heels, spread her legs out like a spider, then started skittering back towards Boba.

"Oh, fuck off!" he shrieked, laughing hysterically. He tried to push up to his feet and run but didn't make it before Ahsoka reached him and started tickling him, laughing devilishly.

"N-n-n-n-" Boba gasped, still laughing but not because it was funny. He hated being tickled. Ordo used to pin him down and do it until he would struggle for air or wet himself, whatever happened first. Ahsoka immediately stopped and backed away so he could breathe.

"You good, vod'ika?" she asked, tilting her head.

Boba nodded after a few seconds and caught his breath.

"Come on." Ahsoka grabbed his hands and dragged him on his back to the turbo-lift. She spared a glance for the shiny still at the end of the hall, frozen at their antics. "Welcome to the 501st!" she called to him with a wave, then summoned Robert to her hand and closed the doors with a mad giggle.

Rex leaned back and looked at the black line he'd just poked into Cody's skin with a critical eye.

"You fucked it up, didn't you?" Cody drawled, his voice muffled from being face-down on the sofa.

"I never fuck it up, shabuir." Rex flicked his brother's ear and started the second run on the angular sunburst he was forever adding to on Cody's back. He was going to run out of room soon; he was already out to Cody's shoulders and the vain little baby didn't want him poking his shebs like he would with a proper Mando sal'gam.

"I'm surprised you let the boys out tonight, given that you're shipping out tomorrow."

"We don't leave until midday." Rex dipped his needle into the pot of black ink and adjusted his knees on the ground next to Cody.

"Still."

"If they're still hungover by the time we get to Goran then that's on them." Rex wiped away excess ink and kept poking. He'd come a long way from hiding in Cody's tube at night with steel filaments and ink balls stolen from the practice range, both of them practicing patterns that they'd seen on their Mandalorian trainers on each other until late into the night.

Cody chuckled. "What're you going to do with Boba?"

Rex shrugged. "That's up to Ahsoka. She's his guardian."

"Speaking of which…" Cody glanced at Rex and waited for him to say something, and when he didn't he let out an exasperated sigh. "I don't like sitting on this, vod'ika."

"I believe Skywalker," Rex said firmly. He had to. He couldn't go into battle beside a man he didn't trust, so he had made his decision and would stick with it until it bit him in the shebs and everything went to hell.

"So do I. The di'kut doesn't know his own strength, it doesn't mean that it shouldn't be reported," Cody retorted.

"If Ahsoka wanted it reported then nothing could stop her from shutting up about it, we both know that." Rex wiped more ink away. "I'm going to have a chat with her about it when she gets back and we'll go from there."

"So she can convince you to let Skywalker off the hook?" Cody asked sharply. "Even if it was unquestionably an accident, that doesn't mean it should be swept under the rug and you know it."

"I'm not going to throw my general to the shabla akul because his hand malfunctioned!" Rex exclaimed. "Since the kid is the one who this affects, the kid is who decides what happens next, 'lek? You already gave your word."

"Ugh." Cody buried his glaring face in his folded elbow. "Shabla dalgaan."

"Ni cuy shabla dalgaan?" Rex raised an eyebrow and pointed to his chest, offended. "Ni salgorani gar shabla shebs bal ni cuy shabla dalgaan? Ke'haa'tayli at troan'tay, ori'vod."

"Gar ne'salgorani ner shebs, vod'ika, bal meh bev tigaanur ner shebs ni ven'shuku gar cere."

Rex rolled his eyes and continued poking. "Then you'd have to get Bly to do this," he reminded his brother. "And after what you did to his cheeks, I don't think it'll look half as nice as how I do it."

"I gave him what he wanted," Cody said into his elbow.

"I can't believe you did that to your own batchmate." Rex wiped his line and gathered more ink.

"I gave him exactly what he asked for, bev'kovid!" Cody exclaimed, offended.

"As his vod it was your job to talk him out of two giant shabla golden tickets on his cheeks, Codes!" Rex said loudly. "Jesse wanted his cog dead center and I ignored him and did it on the side so he didn't look like a di'kut."

"Ke'pirimpir gaht tay'briik," Cody scoffed.

"Nayc gar." Rex poked his brother's ass cheek with the dull end of the needle and snickered evilly as he jumped and yelped, looking at his shebs with paranoid eyes.

"Little shit," Cody sniffed and laid back down. "You want me to do yours after this?"

"Might as well while we've got the time." Rex finished off the last diamond, completing the diamond-dash dadita spelling of Ponds along the underside of a sun ray. "Ni suc'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc," he said quietly, wiping away the last of the ink.

"Ni partayli, gar darasuum," Cody finished. "Ponds."

"Ponds." Rex lifted his beer from the floor and took a sip. "Now," he said, carefully placing the bottle on the floor where he wouldn't knock it over, "I can squeeze either Waxer or Apex in before I get to the edge, or you can man up and let me start a new one on your–"

"Stop!" Cody whined, smacking the hand with the needle in it away from his shebs.

"Stubborn chakaar," Rex snickered under his breath.

There was a gasp from the doorway. "Language, Captain!" Ahsoka said, pressing a dramatic hand to her heart. She was dressed in her short red sleeping robe instead of her normal Jedi robes and had Boba right behind her, his oversized rancor plushie tucked tight under one arm.

Rex put his needle down with a grin and opened his arms. Boba crossed the room in two strides and wrapped his arms around Rex's neck. "Su cuy'gar," he murmured in Boba's ear, and got to his feet still holding him. "Well done, Boba. Very well done."

Boba's cheek warmed up where it pressed against his own. "Your vod'ika is insane," he mumbled back.

"I could have told you that," Rex chuckled, meeting Ahsoka's big blue eyes. "Should have warned you about it, actually."

"Rude," Ahsoka said with a smile. She leaned down to touch foreheads with Cody. "Are we good, vod?" she asked him quietly.

Cody's face softened. "Of course we are, Os'ika," he reassured her, using her to pull himself to his seat.

Rex threw him a questioning look over Boba's head, and Cody meaningfully looked at her arm.

"Alright, enough of this mushy shit," Boba mumbled, pushing away to look at Cody. "Let me see your sal'gam."

Cody snickered and released Ahsoka, who immediately walked into Rex's arms for her own hug.

"Hi, vod'ika," Rex said fondly.

"Ori'vod," Ahsoka said back, purring happily.

"Heard you ran into some trouble on Geonosis," Rex said. He rubbed the root of her rear lek and made her purr rev up like a luxury speeder engine.

"Yeah, we–" she went stiff in his arms and leaned back, her eyes narrow and suspicious. A muscle in her jaw twitched.

Rex raised an eyebrow. "What's wrong?"

"There's something on your face," she mumbled after a few seconds of consternated silence. Her lek thumped with an irritated thwack! against her back, stripes so dark that they looked nearly black even in fluorescent lighting.

Rex swiped at his cheek, confused. "Should I go wash?" he asked, bewildered. Had he rubbed against something in the market that she didn't like? Was it that tooka that had tried to come home with him and Skywalker, or maybe some of that soup was–

Ahsoka yanked his head down and buried her nose in the meat of his cheek. She snuffled him like a hound trying to catch a scent then growled, sounding eerily like Grizzer when someone got too close to his slop bowl, with a primal undertone that sent his hair standing straight up.

"Littl'un?" Rex asked faintly. Behind her, Boba and Cody exchanged confused looks.

"Come here," Ahsoka said darkly, then started furiously rubbing her soft lek against his cheek.

"Easy kid, easy," he chuckled, holding her back a little so she didn't knock him over.

"Hold still," she snapped, still bunting her head all over him and purring like a territorial tooka.

Rex barely restrained himself from giggling when she migrated to a ticklish spot on his neck. "What's got you in a mood?"

Ahsoka growled instead of answering and moved onto his right cheek.

"Alright, alright, that's enough." He gently pushed her away from his head after a few more seconds of rubbing. She crossed her arms and pouted. "Hey," he said, chuffing her under her chin. "We need to have a talk, you and I."

Her eyes shot up and lost their attitude. "About what?" she asked warily.

Rex reached out and gently squeezed her left bicep, watching her closely for a reaction.

"Oh." She took a deep, huffy breath and turned accusing eyes on Cody.

Cody met them unapologetically and finished his beer without blinking.

"Step out with me." Rex pulled her gently towards the door and closed it for the illusion of privacy, knowing full well that Boba and Cody were already pressed up against the vent.

"Listen, I don't know what Cody told you–" she began.

"He told me something different than what the General said,'' Rex cut her off, fixing her with his best stern ori'vod look. "I'll give you a chance to tell me your side of all of this, then we'll go from there."

Ahsoka's lips thinned. "I could just order you to drop it, you know," she grumbled, crossing her arms.

"Don't you dare." Rex mirrored her.

She heaved a deep sigh. "It was an accident. His mech–" she shivered and clapped her hand over the back of her neck, looking around with a frown.

Rex narrowed his eyes. "Don't try to get out of answering with some made-up Force nonsense right now, vod'ika."

"I'm not," she replied, annoyed. Her rear lek thumped again. "I sensed something for the first time in your office. I just felt it again. It's like I'm being watched."

Rex frowned. "Klem, come in," he said into his commlink.

"Yes, Captain?" the gate guard replied immediately.

"Anyone come into the barracks tonight that wasn't a clone?"

"Just Commander Tano and the runt, Sir. General Koon was here for a few moments but left right away."

Ahsoka rubbed her arms like she was cold. "Something's not right," she said, looking at the door to the officer's lounge worriedly.

"Don't let anyone in or out other than troopers," Rex ordered Klem, then closed the channel. His eyes locked onto a trooper at the end of the hall. "Private!" he barked.

The trooper stopped short and stood at attention. Rex jerked his head for him to approach.

"Have you seen anyone enter the barracks in the last few hours that wasn't a clone?" Rex asked once the shiny was close.

"No, Sir!" The trooper clicked his heels together.

Rex nodded. "Keep an eye on the entr–"

"What's your name, Private?" Ahsoka interrupted.

"Falin, Ma'am," he immediately responded.

Ahsoka's hand shot up to her neck again. "Bucket off, Falin," she ordered.

Falin's visor turned to Rex, who narrowed his eyes; didn't he know who he was talking to? "As Commander Tano ordered, Private Falin," Rex reiterated, crossing his arms.

"Yes, Sir." The clone reached up to his helmet with his left hand, slowly, then his right darted to his holster and drew in Ahsoka's direction. Rex immediately shoved her to the side and took the bolt directly to his unarmed chest–

Ahsoka caught Rex before he hit the ground, instantly out cold from the blue stunner bolt. She gently lowered him and kept his head from hitting the tile. "Cody, k'akaan'jori!" she bellowed, taking off in a sprint. The shiny was already at the end of the hall, halfway through the emergency staircase door.

Ahsoka felt her brain slow down and speed up at the same time, blocking out any stimulus other than her prey. She locked on to his naturally red aura like a beacon, tracking him through the floors with a hunter's focus, even as he got out of what her normal range of Empathy allowed. Following a tingle down her spine, she ripped off a vent cover with the Force and slid into the ventilation shaft beside the turbo-lift, taking a more direct route to the ground floor. She hit the ground hard on her heels and bounced forward, straight through the closet door and in front of him.

She didn't bother ordering him to stop, she spun in a high rear kick and clotheslined him with her leg. The way his helmet popped off and the squeak of surprise he let out would have been comical if the shabuir hadn't just shot Rex.

The surge of hormonal rage she was fighting off after smelling an unknown Togruta female's scent mark on Rex's cheek didn't help her mood either.

She kicked the clone's blaster away – and he was a clone, though the lines around his eyes said he hadn't been shiny for a while – and put him in a headlock, seething and spitting with anger. "Who the hell do you think you are?" she snarled, squeezing his neck just hard enough to not break it. "What do you want? Why are you here?"

The clone, quickly turning purple, shot a jet of fire from his wrist. She let go just in time to duck and felt the flames heat the air above her montrals. She rolled and shot her leg out as she regained her feet, going for a sweep that he barely jumped over.

Ahsoka looked up just in time to catch the clone's returning punch and turn it away, bringing her long leg up in a wheel kick with the same motion. It connected and he went stumbling forward. She used the Force to shove him onto his face, but almost as if he had anticipated it he used the momentum to roll and pop back up to his feet. He shot a length of whipcord at her to bind her arms to her sides and ran for it.

"Zisiyeni," she snarled. She awkwardly pulled her sabers into her hands and cut the whipcord, but by the time she'd freed herself he had already made it to the line of speederbikes near the entrance of the hangar. "Oh no you don't," she growled. She pulled on the Force and leapt. The clone gunned the thrusters and she landed in the exact spot he had been in only moments before. She kicked the neighboring speederbike to life and jetted out of the hangar after him into the nighttime traffic.

The clone shot south through three lanes of traffic and down a half-dozen levels. Her speederbike whined as Ahsoka strained the repulsors. As she brought it up to level, the clone's bike in front of her made a small sparking pop and shuddered.

Ahsoka realized that in their rush, they'd both hopped onto the bikes in the maintenance lineup. Her repulsors were solid, just noisier than a nest full of narchlings, but it appeared by the lavender smoke and constant popping that the clone was riding a speederbike with a tibanna leak. He was going down quickly, and she wasn't going to let him get away into the undercity if she could help it, not after shooting her kriffing Rex.

The clone's bike sputtered three more times and then he started slowly dropping, and even over her whining repulsors Ahsoka could hear him cursing up a streak that would make Boba blush. She sped up with renewed fire in her blood. A first-gen clone disguised as a shiny in her barracks armed with Mandalorian gadgets like a flamethrower and whipcord? She had an idea of who was slowly crashing down in front of her, or what at least. Her brain was putting the pieces together rapidly even as she wove in and out of rush-hour traffic, collecting honks like they were Monomoko badges, too used to having to rapidly plot out a plan of attack while under fire to not multitask.

She'd wager every stupid, overpriced couch that Padmé had ever bought that there was a Null on that speederbike.

Another tingle on the back of her neck told her to draw her saber just in time to deflect a concussion round from a far-off rooftop. She batted it away but the vibration of the bolt blasted her saber clean out of her hand and sent it flying into the undercity below.

"Oh, you are dead!" she snarled, straining the thrusters to get ahead of the clone. She jackknifed and drew her shoto at the same time, slicing downward as he sped below her speederbike. She disabled his rear repulsors completely with the blow. He dropped like a rock and skidded to a sparking stop on top of a Quarren buffet. Ahsoka dove, then turned to get ahead of him. She spun to face him and ducked immediately to avoid a grapple to the face. It hit the seat behind her and the clone came flying along the rope feet first, hitting her in the chest and knocking out both her wind and her shebs from her seat right as they both cleared the edge of the roof.

Ahsoka fell, and fell, and she watched the clone's aura go staticky-gray with fear-dismay-regret as she went. She gasped for air that her spasming diaphragm couldn't pull in, and when she clipped a speeder three lanes down with her foot she was sent into a disorienting spin. She tried not to panic, but the inability to breathe while spinning and falling at terminal velocity robbed her of the ability to center herself. Honking speeders swerved around her falling body and she still couldn't stop spinning or even breathe and she was falling faster and faster and she was going to–

A warm, familiar presence covered her skin like a tingling blanket and calmed her panic. The Force cradled her, slowed her flailing spin, then flipped her over so she could see where she was going. Newly-centered, she focused on the turquoise and white speeder below her and carefully aimed for the passenger seat. She grabbed Anakin's outstretched hand and let him yank her to safety.

"Hello, Snips," he said pleasantly. He held up the saber that had been blasted out of her hand with a bemused look.

"Hi, Skyguy," Ahsoka panted. She took her saber back, a little embarrassed. "You're late."

"Yeah, well, you know–"

"Couldn't find a speeder you liked?" she couldn't help but joke.

"Actually, I was getting you Quasar." He shook a plastic cup full of creamy pink tea with orange balls at the bottom. "Hibiscus with triple cream and meiloorun boba. You're welcome."

Ahsoka snickered and took a sip. "You're the best, Master."

"I know." Anakin swerved below a blinking speederbus and sped under the line of traffic stopped at the light. "So who are we chasing?"

"A clone. He identified himself as Falin, but I doubt that's his real name. He was creeping around the barracks disguised as a shiny." A wave of anger rose up hot and bitter in Ahsoka's chest. "He shot Rex when I told him to take his bucket off."

"He shot Rex?" Anakin's aura flared white with staticky fear.

"Stunner bolt. He's okay."

Anakin sighed with blue relief. "You think this clone was after Boba?" he asked, narrowly avoiding rear-ending a police droid.

The clone got off on the exit to Coco Town. Ahsoka cursed under her breath. "I'm not sure, but I can't think of any other reason he'd be there."

Anakin reached over her and fastened her seatbelt without taking his eyes off of traffic, then did a barrel roll through four levels of packed speeders and shot down the center of a descension tunnel. "Uh, Master?" Ahsoka asked, confused. "Isn't this the opposite direction? He's going to get away!"

Anakin rolled his eyes. "Watch and learn, Padawan," he said, somehow managing to sound exasperated and smug at the same time, then leveled out and reversed into a maintenance tunnel. Without any traffic to worry about, he gunned the thrusters and throttled up until the needle topped out at 200/kmh while still in reverse. He picked up his own drink – something iced that smelled like chocolate and kokanini – and slurped it loudly.

Ahsoka chewed her boba and took a moment to subtly examine him while she had a chance; though his aura had lightened to a vivid orange with excitement-anticipation, there was a yellow-violet line of guilt-shame like a bruise along the edge. He was still affected by what he'd done to her. His eyes shone and his energy was manic, borderline feral. He was practically vibrating like a pent-up racing fathier and it didn't have anything to do with the caf; she felt his desire to protect her, to redeem himself, to prove that she could trust him again echoing across their bond.

Anakin finished his drink, tossed it over the edge, shot his arm out over her chest to stop her from bruising herself on her seatbelt, then braked hard. He shot up forty levels in five seconds and practically broke the sound barrier leaving the ascension tunnel, then flew back into traffic behind the clone close enough for her to see the blue relief battle it out with the red anger and chartreuse annoyance in his aura.

The clone was… grateful that he hadn't killed her? Ahsoka was surprised, to say the least.

"You ready?" Anakin asked loudly. He was gaining on the clone quickly now that he wasn't hobbled by the civilian traffic of the main drag. A speederbike with lame repulsors was no match for an engine rebuilt by a podracing gearhead whose only real hobby was making things go way faster than they needed to.

Ahsoka undid her seatbelt, crouched on the seat, and readied her saber with a nod.

"I'll be right behind you!" Anakin yelled. He slid underneath the speederbike and popped up a few inches in front of it. Ahsoka immediately leapt for the clone with her saber ignited and jammed it into the repulsors before he could so much as say papurgaat. The speederbike started sputtering and jerking, and the clone struggled to keep his stolen speederbike from going into a tailspin. Ahsoka did a backflip off the seat, pushing off extra hard to lessen his control.

The bike came to a spinning crash into an alley two blocks west of where she landed. She sprinted towards the smoke with a curse, hoping that Anakin had blocked off whatever exit he could. A dizzying sense of deja-vu hit her like a cold winter wind off the mountains when she turned the corner, and after she slid into the alley–

No. No.

It was the alley that Obi-Wan had pretended to die in. The crates were still toppled over, the pavement still dark where his blood had pooled. That was where she had held him after he crashed through the crates like a meteor. She'd gently turned him over, carefully minding his neck and back in case he had damaged his spinal cord, Obi-Wan's eyes are shut tight like he had been bracing himself for the fall. His beautiful, glacial-blue aura like the sky above the mountains is gone. His heart is silent, his chest doesn't move, her leggings are sticky and warm with blood. "Please," she whispers. "P-please Bobi, open your eyes, open your… no, no, no, please no, Bobi please–" People approach and whisper amongst themselves. Someone approaches her from the side and quickly retreats when she bares her fangs at them. Frantic footsteps echo through the alley, Anakin comes skidding to a halt seconds later. "How is he?" he asks, his aura blinding white with sheer panic. She looks up at him, unable to say it out loud and make it true, barely able to see Anakin's face through her tears.

The Force screamed a warning through her fugue just in time for her to dodge the clone's swing. She cartwheeled to the side and dodged his leg sweep, then jumped at him with a flying roundhouse kick. He ducked underneath it and shoved her away from him.

She grabbed for her sabers and found only air at her sides. The clone smirked at her and held up the belt he'd managed to rip off, then chucked it into the dumpster behind him.

Shabuir. Ahsoka dropped down into a Fáng Shìlóng stance, turning her toes out and straightening her back before bringing her hands up. The clone smirked at her and sank into Echani.

Ahsoka eyed the remaining blaster at his waist and briefly wondered why he wasn't using it before blocking his first strike; a hard, straight-armed punch to the face that would have broken her nose had it connected. Ducking the next three strikes that whistled in the air around her montrals, she eased out of Fáng Shìlóng and switched to match his Echani. She elbowed the clone in the gut, dropped, then turned on her knees to try and throw him over her shoulder the same way she did Blitz, but instead of letting her get an arm around his neck he rolled into the toss and then threw her forward with his considerable strength. She crashed into the crates and rolled to a stop face-first on the dark stain.

Please Bobi, open your eyes…

The scent of Obi-Wan's blood had her brain in the same spinning, panicked state that it was that night. The clone kicked her in the stomach with his plastoid boot and sent her rolling to the side in a tumbled heap. He straddled her waist, pinning her with his heavy weight, then raised a fist. With no other recourse, she protected her face with her arms and turned to the one move she wasn't allowed to use during sparring; she slammed a knee up between his legs as hard as she could and scrambled the gett'se behind his codpiece. His aura flashed neon orange with shock-anger and he rolled off of her, swearing a blue streak of Mando'a under his breath.

Ahsoka struggled to her feet and hopped backwards a bit, dragging the knee that was still tingling from smacking into plastoid. "Enough!" she snarled, holding her hands up to summon her sabers.

The clone panted and shook his head, his face sweaty and bright red from exertion and pain, and struck at her chest with his elbow before her weapons reached her. She caught his elbow with her palms and pushed outwards, following with a high kick that missed his chin by a hairsbreadth. He feinted forward, her punch went wide, and he pinned her arms at her sides in a wampa hug.

"Get off of me!" she snarled. She headbutted him, used the wall to walk up and over his head to break the hold, then kneed him hard in the spine. The blow sent him stumbling forward, only for him to turn and kick her in the chest and propel her towards the opposite wall.

She smashed into it hard and saw stars, the fatty padding of her rear lek the only thing saving her skull from being cracked open. He took advantage of her daze by dragging her to the ground and pinning her again. He brought a fist up to finish her off and went still; his eyes bugged out of his head and he clawed at his throat. He rose up in the air with lips quickly going blue and was dragged off of her like he had an invisible noose around his neck, plastoid boots scraping helplessly at the concrete.

Anakin stood at the opposite end of the alley with an outstretched hand, his aura a tornado of ivory terror spinning with ribbons of crimson fury and teal protection, all surrounded by a hungry, creeping darkness that Ahsoka recognized all too well. He dragged the clone towards him by the throat and watched him struggle for air with dark, wild eyes.

Ahsoka scrambled to her feet and stumbled towards Anakin. "Master," she called, then screwed her eyes shut as the alley tilted around her. Her head felt like someone had taken a hydrospanner to the back of it. "Master, we… we need him alive." She projected weak green calm and the smell of rain on the desert wind as best as she could manage with her head spinning, praying it would be enough to blow away the terrifying, sticky darkness that she had worked so hard to glean away from him before.

Anakin didn't answer her, too lost in his rage. He recognized the alley, too. It was distracting him like it had her, making it too hard to focus on control. He was panicking from what he'd seen, a clone twice her size pinning her to the ground, about to knock her lights out. His hand tightened and the clone's aura went glowing white with fear-pain.

"Anakin!" Ahsoka yelled, but it was no good; he was too far gone, his aura spinning too violently to accept the pitiful calm she projected at him. She braced herself against the wall and took a deep breath, trying to center herself as best she could before she gleaned it off and brought her Master back to his right mind.

I am one with the Force, and the Force is with me. Ahsoka let her aura flow outwards and folded it around Anakin's, drenching him with peace like a spring thunderstorm. The shadow slipped and slid unnaturally around the edges of their joined aura, hungrily sniffing the fresh blood coming from wounds in the heart newly reopened. His grief-rage-guilt hit her with the force of a crashing starfighter, almost throwing her to the ground with its intensity. She box breathed and controlled the spin of the storm around them.

There is no emotion, there is peace. Ahsoka reached out to the darkness and wrapped it around her fists like spiderwebs, tearing the black away from where it choked Anakin's bright red. She had gleaned it away before, she could do it again. She opened herself up to the Cosmic Force, listened to it roar in her montrals like river rapids before going suddenly silent, and let it scour away the darkness surrounding them both.

"Easy, Skyguy," she whispered. "Let him go. You did it. You saved me. You can let him go now."

Something clicked in him, lightened just like it had the night he had broken her arm; it sent the hungry shadow fleeing and lucidity returned to Anakin's eyes. He immediately let the clone fall to the ground and stumbled backwards, wallowing in pale yellow shock-distress at what he'd almost done.

She detangled their auras gently and slid down the wall, as exhausted as if she'd just done a twelve-mile ruck in a blizzard.

"Ahsoka!" Anakin ran to her side and skidded to a stop, dropping to the ground in front of her. "Are you okay? Did he hurt you? How bad–"

"I'm okay." Ahsoka pulled herself together and gave him a wan smile before eyeing the limp body of the clone. He was still alive, thankfully. Anakin hadn't… he hadn't.

Anakin nodded and swallowed hard, looking sick. "Let's get going." He slung her arm around his neck and helped her walk back to his speeder, dragging the clone's unconscious body behind them with the Force.

The clone had no tattoos or unique scars, no holotags, not even an identification chip in his wrist. Rex had been conscious for a whole five minutes by the time they returned to the barracks but he wasted no time in helping Cody and Anakin tie him up in a chair in the officer's lounge.

Poor Boba was shaking like an aktipan that lived in a rich woman's purse, his aura trembling and pale violet with shock-guilt. Ahsoka held him on the couch, rubbing his back soothingly and willing her headache to go away.

"I'm sorry," he said for the fiftieth time. "I should have helped. I–"

"You stayed safe. That's all I care about." Ahsoka pressed her forehead against his.

"We have any stims in here?" Anakin barked, throwing open the cabinets of the kitchenette like he expected them to be stored next to the caf concentrate and ration bars. His aura was a tightly-controlled ball of deep red anger-frustration and a little yellow embarrassment, and his mech hand kept clenching with the desire to hit something.

Rex shook his head. "Should be a pack of 'em in my office, Sir." He made for the door. "I'll–"

"I'll get them," Ahsoka offered. Rex still looked a bit unsteady; she'd been stunned enough times during dance practice to know exactly how fuzzy his head was. "Where are they?"

"The top shelf of my locker." Rex nodded at her gratefully.

Ahsoka kissed Boba's cheek. "Stay here, vod'ika," she murmured into his ear before standing.

Rex and Cody both froze and turned to her with staticky-white shock rippling around them.

"You're not actually surprised, right?" she asked them wryly over her shoulder, leaving before they had a chance to respond.

The barracks were still almost empty of troopers and nobody stopped her on the way to Rex's office. She unlocked the door, stepped inside, and stopped dead.

The locker was open. The rucksack, the beskar'gam, even the tooka doll was gone.

She didn't need to call Inspector Divo to help her solve this mystery. There was only one person who could have taken it; or rather, there was only one person who would have ordered it taken.

Kal shabuirla Skirata.

Ahsoka snatched the box of stims and marched to the stairwell, her brain working faster than her feet. Obviously the clone had led her away from the barracks so the armor would be easy pickings. The only thing she wanted to know, though, was which one of Skirata's little angels of death was currently tied up in the officer's lounge, and how badly Skirata wanted him back. Had he intended to be caught, or was he just trying to keep her as far away from the barracks for as long as possible?

She was still glad she had stopped Anakin from killing him if for no other reason than that they now had leverage to get the beskar'gam back. She slid the door to the lounge open with the Force, removed a stim from the box, and jammed it into the clone's neck without a word. A chorus of protesting shouts sprang out from the men in the room.

"Ahsoka!" Anakin yanked her away from the clone with a bolt of teal concern. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Waking him up." She tossed the box on the table. She was spitting mad, nearly vibrating with it, her lek smacking against her back like a drum. She pushed Anakin's arm down and slapped the clone's cheek. "Hey. Eyes open, shabuir."

"Ahsoka!" Rex exclaimed, shoving himself between her and the tied-up man.

The clone's eyes opened into slits and he worked his jaw. Cody, still shirtless with a large, clear burn bandage over his new ink immediately drew on the clone and held steady, ready to stun him.

"What's going on?" Anakin asked harshly. "You were fine a minute ago, what happened to make you so angry?"

"Where is it?" she spat at the clone. She shoved past Rex and slapped him again, leaving a pink handprint on his cheek. "Where the hell is it?"

Rex yanked her back and held her in a wampa hug.

"Ow," the clone said mildly. His red aura sharpened and hardened into a box around him, keeping any emotions he had guarded and hidden.

"It's gone," Ahsoka snapped, trying and failing to push past Rex. "Someone took Boba's beskar'gam while this sleemo was leading us on a snipe hunt around Coruscant, and he's going to tell us what happened or I'm going to gut him like a Rokarian dirt-fish!"

"What?" Boba was crouched on the couch with Robert under one arm, puppy-eyed and rolling with violet grief-shock that quickly blushed into red anger. "He… he…" Boba got to his feet, trembling with all of the emotions rioting across his aura, and threw Robert behind him. "Tion'vaii ner beskar'gam, gar ne'tom'osik?" he demanded, eyes shining and fists clenched at his sides.

The clone slowly dragged his eyes over to Boba. "Jate, Bob'ika," he drawled. "Ner gett'se shi'jii dayngaanir?"

Boba's face and aura went white and he took a step back. "Ordo?" he whispered, horrified.

Everyone turned to look at the tied up clone. "I should've known," Rex said grimly, backing up with Ahsoka in his arms. His aura was fogged with bright turquoise protection-wariness. "What's going on, Ordo?"

A muscle worked in Anakin's jaw. "Ordo's the captain of the commando squad you told me about on the way here?" he asked Ahsoka quietly, to which she nodded.

"You were a decoy?" Cody asked, frowning severely. His aura went chartreuse with annoyance. "Seems beneath you, Captain."

Ordo rolled his shoulders. "I follow orders, Cody, you know that." He frowned. "Where's your shirt?"

"And did your orders include kicking my Padawan off a rooftop?" Anakin asked, soft and dangerous. He walked forward with a straight back, drawing up to his full height. "Beating her face in?"

"You led us to that alley on purpose, didn't you?" Ahsoka snapped, trying to get out of Rex's very firm hold again.

"I figured I'd need the advantage," Ordo shrugged. "Take it as a compliment. Sorry about the roof, though. That was bad timing on my part."

"Ke'epa osik," Ahsoka said contemptuously.

"Enough, vod'ika." Rex physically turned her towards the couch, where Boba sat frozen and silent like a newborn kybuck in the grass, and gave her a little push.

She swallowed her rage, sat next to Boba, and tucked him under her arm. "It's okay," she murmured into his ear, sending little green bubbles of calm to his aura. "Ni ven'kyramu ad kebbur. I'll rip his throat out if he tries anything."

Ordo raised an eyebrow. "Why would I hurt him?" he asked, sounding genuinely puzzled.

"Why'd you hurt him any other time?" Ahsoka snapped, a growl coloring her tone.

"Because he was being a brat?" Ordo's eyes flicked between her and Boba. "Boba's always been a spoiled kih'osik. Someone needed to keep his head from getting too big."

"Fuck off!" Ahsoka and Boba snapped in unison.

Anakin tilted his head at Ordo. The air around him felt charged, staticky, like lightning about to strike. "I would like to know why you thought you could put hands on my Padawan and walk away with them still attached," he said quietly.

Ordo met his eyes, wary, but more curious than afraid. "She got me good a few times. You should be proud."

"Oh I am. I am very, very proud of her." Anakin said silkily, leaning down. "So answer my question."

Ahsoka's commlink started flashing with an incoming holocall. She looked at Anakin, who nodded at her before she accepted it. A hologram of a plain man in his fifties wearing gold-painted Mandalorian armor popped up on her wrist.

"Ahsoka Tano." The hologram nodded. "Kal Skirata. Pleased to meet you."

"The pleasure's all yours, I assure you," Ahsoka snapped. "Where is Boba's beskar'gam? What game are you playing?"

Skirata chuckled. "It's safe. I presume my boy is as well?"

"He won't be if I don't get a very good reason for your attack on my Padawan and Captain tonight," Anakin snapped, striding forward to get into visual range.

"General Skywalker. Your reputation precedes you." Kal crossed his arms. "I'd rather have this chat in person. Why don't you all come down to the fairgrounds? It's Weequay Independence Week, the place is hopping tonight."

Ahsoka translated it: Lots of civilians, neutral zone. "When?" she asked harshly.

"As soon as you can. Bring my boy, and yours. He's a good shot, I bet he can win you a stuffed bantha while we talk."

Ahsoka looked at Anakin again, who pursed his lips and nodded. "If you try anything funny, you'll regret it," he promised.

"No funny business, I swear." Kal laughed again. "See you soon, ad'ika." He closed the channel before Ahsoka could.

Rex immediately started dialing a frequency on his own commlink. "Jesse, how drunk are you right now?" he asked over the loud music.

"Just getting started, Cap– hey, di'kutla, watch where you're going–"

"Grab everyone who's still walking in a straight line and get down to the fairgrounds." Rex paused, then quirked the corner of his mouth. "Someone tried to kill Ahsoka tonight. I–"

"WHAT?!" Jesse shrieked. "Kix! Where the hell is Tup, go grab him and Fi– I don't care if she's here, we need to go, now! Rex, we're leaving. Tell us where to meet you."

"One way to motivate him," Anakin said, biting down his laughter as Rex gave Jesse directions.

"Clearly." Ahsoka rubbed the bridge of her nose. She was still resisting the urge to smack Ordo, who looked far too blase about the situation for her liking. Gleaning took a toll on her. She'd have what she could only describe as an emotional hangover for at least a day. She took Anakin's mech hand and squeezed it.

It was worth it.

"You're sure about this?" Anakin asked her quietly.

She nodded and pulled Boba close to her with her other arm. "Absolutely." She gently rubbed her lek over the top of Boba's head. "We're going to get it back if I have to ransom Ordo back one limb at a time," she murmured.

Ordo raised an eyebrow. "I'd prefer you didn't," he said.

"Not up to you." Ahsoka met Cody's eyes. He raised his blaster with a smirk.

Notes:

MANDOA TRANSLATIONS Sal'gam*: tattoo (lit color+skin) Atawai'la*: kindness Shabla dalgaan: fucking bitch Ni cuy shabla dalgaan? Ni salgorani gar shabla ass bal ni cuy shabla dalgaan? Ke'haa'tayli at troan'tay, vod: I'm a fucking bitch? I'm tattooing your fucking ass and I'm a fucking bitch? Go look in the mirror, bro Gar ne'salgorani ner shebs, vod'ika, bal meh bev tigaanur ner shebs ni ven'shuku gar cere: You're not tattooing my ass, little brother, and if that needle touches my ass I will break your fingers Ke'pirimpir gaht tay'briik: Go piss up a rope Nayc gar: No you Os'ika: Little shit (affectionate), a pun on Ahsoka's normal diminutive of Ahs'ika Ka'akaan'jori: Sound the alarm! Papurgaat: lit. 'fruit,' in this context it's like "before he could say diddly" Shabla bev'kovid: Fucking dickhead Tion'vaii ner beskar'gam, gar ne'tom'osik?: Where is my armor, you piece of shit? Ner gett'se shi'jii dayngaanir: Your balls finally drop? Ke'epa osik: Eat shit Kih'osik: Little shit (not affectionate) TOYDARIAN TRANSLATIONS Zisiyeni: Damn it OTHER NOTES Gleaning: Empathically sharing another person's emotions and releasing them to the Force Po'ackster: A hyena-like creature native to Jedha, known for its wide grin and hysterical laughter-like bark Aktipan: that wee little elephant creature from the Fifth Element. I've been obsessed with him for 20 years you're goddamn right he's crossing over to the SW verse

Taglist: @starwarsficnetwork, @soliloquy-of-nemo Dividers: @saradika-graphics

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solrika · 2 years

Text

Directly follows the “FACE ME” fight scene. Nighttime on the Ghost.

Every time Kallus thought he was about to drop off, something would jerk him awake–the Ghost’s pipes creaking, a clatter from Sabine’s room, murmuring from the cockpit. He hadn’t had this much trouble sleeping since—

Well. Maybe he shouldn’t be surprised.

Groaning quietly, Kallus scrubbed his hands down his face. They hadn’t shook during the fight–thank all the little gods–but now the tremor in his left wrist was back. No matter how he tried, he couldn’t find the right position to unpinch the nerve in his shoulder. Probably wouldn’t, until his body accepted that he was safe.

A soft whimper shook him from his thoughts. Ezra was having another nightmare. Something else that shouldn’t be surprising, considering the day they’d had.

Kallus stared up into the darkness.

Kriff it.

Rolling to his feet, he nudged gently at Ezra’s shoulder until the kid’s eyes fluttered open. The way Ezra immediately groped under the pillow for his little shiv made Kallus’ heart clench.

“Mnh—Kallus? ‘S everything okay?”

Kallus gave him a lopsided smile. “You were having bad dreams—no, don’t apologize, I wasn’t sleeping anyway. If it wasn’t you, it would be Sabine’s tinkering or Hera and Kanan chatting in the cockpit.”

Ezra managed a weak little smile back. “We’re all having trouble tonight, huh?”

“Indeed.” Kallus couldn’t help shifting his weight nervously. It was so easy to scare off a teenager—maybe, if he led with his own vulnerability, instead of pointing out Ezra’s… “I don’t know what’s keeping the others up, but I always hate running into Lasats.”

“Oh?” Ezra shook the fringe out of his eyes, squinting curiously down at Kallus. Human eyes really were useless in the dark.

“The Emperor likes using them to take down the stronger species. We were one of the ones targeted.” He didn’t know if Ezra’s powers let him sense emotions like Kanan, but just in case, he shoved his grief down behind his mental shields. There was no need to drown the kid in sadness.

Ezra grimaced apologetically. “Aw, Kallus.” And then, with that sweetness so often hidden under his prickly little exterior, he added, “Can I do anything?”

“Yes, actually.” Kallus nodded at his blankets. “Grab your bedding and take it down to the hold. I’ll get Sabine and meet you there.”

Ezra’s squint turned suspicious. “Are you going to try and cuddle me?”

Kallus couldn’t help a snort of laughter. “No, Ezra, you’re going to cuddle me.” He left before Ezra could sputter out a reply, trusting the kid’s curiosity to get him where Kallus wanted him.

Sabine’s door remained closed at Kallus’ knock until he called, “It’s me.”

There was a gratifyingly fast patter of footsteps, and then the door slid open and Sabine was peering up at him. “Why are you still up?”

Instead of retorting, “Why are you?” Kallus just grimaced, turning his head so the bright light from her room wouldn’t hurt his eyes. “Sabine, you know why.”

“Oh.” From the corner of his eyes, he could just catch the edge of her little snarl. “That Lasat.”

“Mm.” He blew out a long breath. “Would you–”

“Of course.” Her little hand patted his shoulder. “Of course, Kallus.”

He slanted her a smirk. “Even if I’ve wrangled Bridger into it, too?”

The pat turned into a punch, but Sabine grumbled, “As long as you keep him quiet, sure.”

After they gathered up her preferred bedding, they headed to the hold. Sure enough, Ezra was already there, a confused little frown on his face. Kallus just smiled at him and headed to the crate that held the huge sleeping mat, leaving Ezra to mutter at Sabine, “What are we doing here?”

Sabine heaved the put-upon sigh of elder siblings everywhere, but replied, “We’re helping Kallus sleep.”

“Yeah, but… How?”

Kallus stifled his laughter when Sabine replied, “We’re cuddling him. Obviously.” When that just got disbelieving silence, she added, “You know he’s not human, right?”

“Yeah, so?”

“His species is supposed to sleep together. He’s, like–” Her voice dropped, a sweet attempt to hide Kallus’ problems from himself–with his ears, it didn’t work, but he still appreciated the effort. “He’s lonely, Ezra. And I think today…” Voice going even quieter, she added, “I think he was scared, too.”

Kallus could practically feel Ezra chewing that over. Maybe it was a Jedi thing. Finally, the boy asked, “You’re sure we can help?”

“Yeah. I’ve done this before. It works like,” Sabine snapped her fingers. “Pretty sure it’s something biological.”

“Okay.” When Kallus glanced their way, it was to see Ezra straightening his spine in determination. “I’ll try, then.”

Gods, they’re cute. Kallus could see why the Mando’ade went crazy over children. That, though, would stay firmly locked in his own head, safely away from teenage squawks of outrage. With a final heave, he freed the sleeping pad from its crate. A generous shaking got the dust off.

He dragged it over to the teenagers, letting it fall with an unceremonious plop. “Alright. Back up, you two. And turn around for a moment.”

Even as Sabine dragged him backwards, Ezra asked, “But why?”

Kanan’s going to have his hands full with that one.

Trusting Sabine to keep his dignity intact, Kallus shucked off his clothes, and reached for the shift. Today–tonight?--it hurt more than usual, his bones protesting the stretch. At least it went quick. He ignored the part of himself fretting over the energy expenditure, reminding it that the Ghost had a fully-stocked pantry. He could eat all he wanted, whenever he wanted.

And this was worth it.

He gave himself a shake, settling himself into his larger shape. “Alright, all done. You can turn around.”

He’d never seen Ezra’s eyes go so wide.

Smugly, Sabine said, “I told you he wasn’t human.”

“Don’t tease,” Kallus scolded, bending down so he could look Ezra in the eye. “Still me, Jabba. Just bigger.”

“You have wings,” Ezra breathed, raising a hand before snatching it back.

Kallus chirped in amusement. Settling on his haunches, he stretched out one wing-arm, keeping his claws politely tucked in. “You can touch.”

“Woah…” Ezra’s hands were gentle on the relatively fragile skin of the wing membrane, skating along the folds between wing-fingers before carefully brushing the back of Kallus’ knuckles. The tremor was still there when Kallus rotated his hand to let Ezra inspect his thumb and free fingers. Like this, though, with Ezra’s skin warm against his palm, Kallus could forget it.

“Yes, yes, ori’vod’s very impressive,” Sabine grumbled. Throwing her arms out at the bedding, she added, “But can we please lie down? I’m tired.”

“I’ll take you flying when we have free time planetside,” Kallus promised Ezra.

“Wizard.”

Kallus chirped again when Sabine threw him an exasperated look, and obediently got up, brushing past Ezra to settle on the mat. It only took a little wriggling before he found the indent he’d made in its middle. Sabine wasted no time getting under a wing, dragging her blankets with her. Ezra was more cautious, hovering by Kallus’ side like he wasn’t sure he was allowed.

Kallus promptly tucked him closer, explaining, “I need to feel your breathing.”

“Oh! Okay.” Ezra settled his head against Kallus’ ribs to listen to the low thrum starting up in his chest. “Why are you making that noise?”

“It’s a little like a purr.” Kallus debated which side to settle his head on, before finally just stretching his neck out straight.

He took a deep breath, held it. Focused on the gentle feeling of pressure on each flank. Listened to the unhurried rhythm of their lungs. Closed his eyes. Let the breath out, slowly, and this time something in his shoulders relaxed.

It wasn’t like being in the colony. But it was enough.

He fell asleep to Sabine whispering, “See? I told you.”

#star wars #star wars fanfic #queen in exile au

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fateviled-a · 2 years

Text

@faeties said — ‘ i can hope enough for us both. ‘ (Cal @ Kanan) RP MEMES FROM MY WIP.

hope had died in him a long time ago. he wishes he could say he missed it, that any part of him wanted it back. but too many years had gone by and the bleakness of reality had sunk in. it wasn’t even his own doing that he was here, looking for hope in a place that he’d almost been certain was doomed. (it was her, in all her fierceness and determination, and he isn’t surprised that his breath still catches when he looks at her sober as much as it had when he hadn't been. he’s not even sure how he’ll ever thank her for bringing him back.) but now that he’s here, kanan isn’t sure what he’s meant to do. he’d confessed as much to his friend (cal was alive, THEY'D BOTH MADE IT.) when the excitement of a new arrival had settled down around them and everyone else had wandered off to give them privacy, not sure what the next step was. one foot in front of the other worked well enough when you thought there was nothing else left, but now… there was a place for them, a world where they might still belong.

a sharp inhale as he contemplates everything, headache kept at bay only by the warmth that’s bloomed in his chest. at being able to put his hand around the other’s shoulders, fond memories of youth less tainted with grief. “force, cal. i didn’t think it was possible to even hope—” but it was. master kenobi and his commander had made it, made this possible. hours after finding out the truth, and kanan still can’t wrap his head around it.

they had been so much alike, in what felt like a lifetime ago. two younglings from the same creche bright eyed and eager to prove themselves and be just as those jedi of legend they’d heard countless stories about. along the way, with time and war, their paths had diverged. but they had never stopped being friends, never stopped seeing each other across the room on the rare moments both found themselves at the temple with excitement and joy on their faces.

kanan had almost forgotten that joy, and he’s surprised to find laughter escaping him at the optimistic words thrown at him so easily. he feels… lighter. than he has in years, lighter than he remembers. but he nods, tightening his grip around cal, smile almost alien on his face from lack of use. “for now, at least. just until i can find mine again, or i start believing i’m not actually dreaming.” oh, but a dream like this would be cruel, and kanan never had good dreams. only heartache, and fear, and anguish. (he knows this is real.) he shakes his head, laughing again, ignoring the burning feeling in his eyes that comes and goes from tears he’s not ready to shed yet. “we’re gonna be okay, right?” he had to know, had to be sure — had to hear it said from a person he’d feared was a ghost only hours ago.

#faeties #faeties ( cal )#:))))))))))))))))))))#ur welcome #╰ 𝙺𝙰𝙽𝙰𝙽 𝙹. ╯ ⋯ people never pay enough attention to the world around them #╰ 𝙰𝙽𝚂𝚆𝙴𝚁𝙴𝙳 ╯ ⋯ a story is no small thing #╰ 𝚀𝚄𝙴𝚄𝙴 ╯ ⋯ like a fist ‚ like a knife

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softpadawan · 3 years

Photo

#ezra bridger #kanan jarrus #star wars rebels #jedi #kanezra edit #hjbedit #screencap edit #screenshots #screencaps #photoshop #kanan's face is so tender when he looks at ezra #he loves his padawan so much #i really had fun making this one #there were so many little glitches #kanan's left eye was too bright #and ezra had a blotchy skin texture near his mouth #really weird stuff #i also gave them brown eyes in 1 version #they were beautiful

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tarisilmarwen · 3 years

Text

I just love how... messy Rebellion Era Jedi are.

Half of them are traumatized survivors of Order 66, trying to cope with the near-total violent eradication of their home, their friends, and everything they ever knew, often in unhealthy ways. (Cere cut herself off from the Force, Caleb changed his name, buried his identity, and turned to drinking, Cal suppressed his Force abilities so badly he had to relearn all of them.) Most of them were children when the Order fell, far too young to have everything ripped away from them, half-trained and frightened and constantly on the run. Running away from the pain, from the trauma, from who they are. Moving from place to place, trying to find somewhere, some safe haven, some remnant left of the Jedi Order, someone they can trust, who still remembers the Jedi as they are and not who the Empire has decreed them to be.

The older ones didn’t escape the trauma either; they had spent their entire lives as Jedi and now suddenly everything was gone and everyone was dead and they could no longer practice their culture or beliefs for fear of discovery, they had to take everything they knew and go underground, hiding who they were and escaping to preserve what remnants of their Order remained. (Jocasta desperately trying to save and protect the gathered knowledge in the Archives and libraries, Obi-Wan and Yoda forced into isolation and hermitage with nothing but the Force and their memories.)

Imagine the constant fear and paranoia they must have felt. Can this person or this person be trusted? If their secret is revealed, will they be ratted out? Rejected? Cast aside like vagrants or turned over to the Empire relentlessly hunting them down for crimes they didn’t commit? After all if the clones could betray them—their closest friends and brothers-in-arms, that they fought alongside for years—if they could just turn on them within the blink of an eye, how could they be safe anywhere in the galaxy? Imagine the poisonous lies they had to swallow, had to bite back rebuttals against, any time anyone talked shit about their Order, crowed about the glorious Empire and its Emperor, the man who had orchestrated the murder of their people. Imagine knowing the truth, the horror and destruction, and not being able to speak about it. Being utterly alone in a galaxy that was once filled with bright lights, lights that in a single horrible moment were snuffed out en masse, a tear in the Force so horrible it’s still reverberating years later.

And then there are the kids born after Order 66, who come into an openly hostile galaxy without any knowledge of the Force, who don’t even know what they are, who have no context for the strange things they just “know” and can do. The ones that won’t have a supportive community of people like them to help them train and manage their abilities, who will never have that because Palpatine didn’t just wipe out the Jedi, he killed the Nightsisters, neutered the Guardians of the Whills, had the Lasat mass disintegrated, got rid of any other Force discipline besides his own, practically erased all knowledge and memory of them, to consolidate his power. These kids won’t understand why they get weird feelings, why they’re so oddly lucky, why things move and shake around them when they’re emotional. They haven’t been taught to be mindful, to be disciplined, to guard themselves against the whispers of the Dark Side. They’re fidgety, inattentive, impatient, and full of anger. (Ezra, Leia, Luke.) The lucky ones can hide their abilities just long enough to escape notice. The unlucky ones get captured and tortured and experimented on, harvested, turned and then sicced back on people just like them like rabid dogs.

And I live for it when the survivors and the new generation manage to come together, kindred souls drawn to each other by fate and the will of the Force. Tiny flickering candles of Light finding each other again, gathering strength together, sparking hope wherever they are just by being who they are. Stumbling awkwardly through half-remembered lessons, reconnecting with their pasts and gaining new futures. Trying to survive together under a regime that is actively hunting them down and trying to kill them, for who they are, for what they are, for what they remember and know, for the threat they represent against Palpatine’s stranglehold on Force power. Everything the children of the Force are taught puts them in more danger, everything the survivors manage to teach and pass on paints a bigger target on their backs.

But Jedi can’t not get involved. The Force itself calls them back into the fight, calls them to inspire hope in the hopeless, to rise up and fight against evil, hold the Darkness back. Calls them back to themselves, to take up the mantle of Jedi again and stand firm as the guardians of peace and justice in the galaxy. And when the Jedi come out of the shadows, rebels line up behind them, emboldened to take up arms. The whole Alliance adopts the language of the Jedi (”May the Force be with you.”) and even when their champions fall or go missing they carry on, a movement started and led and encouraged by Jedi (Ahsoka as Fulcrum, Kanan and Ezra, Luke Skywalker) until they topple the Emperor and avenge the dead culture they pay honor to at last. And young Force Sensitives and Jedi survivors can finally come out of hiding and be safe, rebuild what was lost, come home.

Just... Rebellion Era Jedi, man. 😭

#star wars #star wars rebels #jedi fallen order #jedi order #cal kestis #Luke Skywalker #ezra bridger #the mandalorian #obi-wan #oh look it's sad about jedi hours #nobody touch me i'm emotional #this is a pro jedi blog #i love rebellion era jedi they come pre-traumatized #leia organa

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pretchatta · 3 years

Text

swoon june day 30: reunion/finding each other

the last one! swoon june is now over but I have had so much fun doing these prompts, a huge thank you to @chaos-company for hosting this event!

I've saved the best 'til last. from the moment I read the prompt list I knew I would be finishing on this one - the prompt was too perfect not to. this is my take on how rebels should have ended!

rating: general; kanan jarrus/hera syndulla; 2.4k words

---

“You don’t understand what you’re asking me to do.�� Ezra’s eyes were fixed on Kanan through the doorway, his mind working furiously.

“Yes, I do,” Ahsoka said calmly. “You can’t save–”

“We just have to hold back the flames long enough to pull him through the door!” Ezra interrupted. “I’ve been thinking about this for days – replaying this moment in my head – there is time!”

“Ezra–”

“I can do this!”

He stopped listening to Ahsoka. Closing his eyes, Ezra reached forwards with the Force, through the doorway to where Kanan stood. Both of his master’s arms were outstretched, one holding back the flames that were licking their way up the cracked fuel pod and the other holding back a desperate, frantic Hera. Ezra could feel the fire’s energy, the intensity of it, and was struck with the same awe he had been when he’d lived this night for the first time. Kanan was holding this inferno back one-handed. He, Ezra, would only be able to do that for a few seconds.

He got ready to pull.

Kanan turned to face away from the blaze and used all his strength to push Hera and the patrol transport out of harm’s way. That was Ezra’s moment. He braced himself to hold the flames back and pulled on Kanan, stumbling as the sudden intensity of the explosion his master had been restraining hit him. He felt Kanan come flying towards the doorway with more speed and less effort than he expected – Ahsoka was helping him.

A split second later Kanan’s body struck him and Ezra crumpled under the impact. He lost his focus, feeling the fireball expand unrestrained. Flames filled the doorway’s line of sight, but none came through.

“Kanan!” Hera’s broken cry still came through over the roar of the inferno, as well as another sound – was that a howling wolf? Then it all faded; the door had closed.

“Kanan?” Ezra groaned, winded.

He shoved Kanan off with a grunt and rolled over. Ahsoka came to stand beside him.

“Kanan?”

He hadn’t moved. Ezra grabbed his shoulders and shook, but the scarred eyes remained closed.

“Kanan! Wake up!”

Ezra felt Ahsoka’s hand on his shoulder.

“I don’t think we were supposed to do that,” she said. Her voice was the same calm, even tone it had been before, but there was a slight shakiness to it now.

“What do you mean? We saved him!”

“Use your senses, Ezra. What do you feel?”

For the first time, doubt spiked Ezra’s heart. He sat back on his heels and closed his eyes, reaching out through the Force to his master. He ignored the way the Force seemed closer in this place, and how strangely devoid of life it felt; he focused only on Kanan, and on the bright beacon that was his presence.

Except… It wasn’t as bright as it had been before. It wasn’t darker, exactly, but it was somehow… Less. Like it was missing something.

“What – what happened?” Ezra asked, starting to feel afraid. “What’s wrong with him?”

Ahsoka looked uncertain. “I don’t know.”

They were interrupted from saying anything further by a distant rumbling sound.

Ahsoka was immediately alert. “We can’t stay here. You opened the door to this world. Do you know how to close it?”

“Sabine will know,” Ezra replied. “We can do it together. They’ll be so happy to see you and Kanan.” He started moving around Kanan, getting his arms under his shoulders to lift him.

Ahsoka made no move to help. “I can’t go with you, and I don’t think Kanan should either.”

“What?” Ezra froze in surprise. “No, I can’t leave him. I can’t leave either of you after I just–”

“You’ll see us both again. But I have a feeling we should all return to the real world through the doorway we came through.” She bent to help him with Kanan. “I’ll help you put Kanan back into the wreckage of that explosion, and then I must return to Malachor.”

“Alright. I trust your feelings.” They picked up Kanan’s unconscious form between them and moved back towards the doorway. It started to open as they approached, onto the rubble that gleamed in the light of the two moons. “When I’m back, I’ll go straight to the factory to get him back. It’s only been a few days, and we didn’t see any stormtroopers checking the ruins. How will I find you?”

“Perhaps I can…”

They both turned to see a strange blue light coming from a distant doorway. In unison, they turned to each other and reached an unspoken understanding. Quickly yet gently Kanan was lowered to the ground beyond the doorway and to relative safety.

Then, Ezra and Ahsoka ran.

---

Hera was working on maintenance. That’s what she was telling herself. It didn’t matter that there hadn’t been anything wrong with the caf machine before she’d started; it was always playing up, there was bound to be some part of it that needed fixing. That it was a useful distraction from the grief that clawed at her insides and threatened to drown her from within was only a bonus. She wouldn’t take apart a perfectly functioning piece of machinery just to avoid being left alone with her thoughts. That was ridiculous.

She heard the sound of the Phantom’s engines outside and put down her tools. That would be Ezra and Zeb returning, and she was curious what they had been doing. As soon as they’d all returned to the Ghost from the incident at the Jedi Temple (or the area where the Temple had formerly stood) Ezra had been acting strange. He’d insisted on going on some mission that was vitally important but he’d refused to give anyone any details, including the only person he would allow to come with him.

As Hera stood up to leave the galley she realised she could hear the shuttle landing outside. That was strange – why wouldn’t Ezra dock with the Ghost? She gladly let the mystery of Ezra’s behaviour consume her thoughts as she walked down the ramp.

Outside, Ezra was emerging from the back hatch of the Phantom. He had a slightly dazed expression on his face, like he couldn’t quite believe what was happening. Behind him Zeb was following, holding something in his arms. That would explain the landing – it was often awkward to get cargo down the ladder.

Actually, was that cargo? It looked like–

Ezra stood aside to give her full view of what – or who – Zeb was holding. Hera gasped.

“Is that – is he –”

“He’s alive,” Ezra said.

Hera let out a strangled sob and ran forward. His name caught at the back of her throat, unable to come out. She reached Zeb but her hands hovered over the body in his arms, unsure of where to go – there were no visible injuries, not even burns. Half of her wanted to touch all of him at once, and the other half was scared that if she did, her hands would pass right through and he wouldn’t be real. Eventually they settled on his face, and a soft cry escaped her lips as her fingers brushed warm skin. Kanan was alive.

“He won’t wake up,” Ezra continued, and Hera could hear traces of a scared little boy in his voice. “And I don’t know why.”

“He’ll wake up.” She swallowed. “He has to wake up.” If she said it confidently enough; if they all believed it hard enough...

“What do we do with him?” Zeb asked.

Hera could feel the maelstrom of emotions building inside of her, but there was no time for that now. Her crew needed her. Kanan needed her.

“Take him to his bunk. There’s not much we can do for him right now – we can’t even get off Lothal. But he’ll be safe there.”

Zeb started walking, but Hera was unwilling to let go of Kanan. She ended up walking backwards, the three of them awkwardly manoeuvering through the Ghost until they reached Kanan’s bunk. As they passed Sabine’s room she heard the faint sound of music and the hiss of spray paints. She couldn’t wait to tell Sabine.

Hera only needed a little nudging from Zeb to move out of the way so that he could put Kanan down. She desperately wanted to go back to him, to lay down next to him and physically feel his body next to hers, warm and alive and here. But she held herself back, and when Ezra called to her from the corridor she went out to speak to him.

“Hera – about Lothal…” he began. “I have a plan.”

He gave her a serious look.

“I know how we can get rid of the Empire for good.”

---

Kanan woke up.

It took a few moments for him to register that there was anything wrong with that. He was lying in his own bunk, with the Ghost’s engines a quiet background hum and the distant sounds of other people coming from elsewhere in the ship. Then he moved his head slightly and felt the short stubble on his head and the air moving against the bare skin of his chin.

He was awake.

The last thing he remembered was the heat. The intense, searing heat of the burning fuel, and the light… it had been so bright. And he had seen it. For a few moments, he had seen. He could remember Ezra and Hera’s faces, the sight of them blissful and yet heart-wrenching at the same time. Ezra’s eyes had been wide with horror, and Hera’s beautiful face had been twisted in agony.

When the wolves had told him that he was going to die, he’d known it would hit his family hard. But he also knew how strong they were, Hera most of all, and how they would help each other through it. At least they would be alive to get through it, he had told himself. That was all that mattered to him.

So how was he alive too?

He sat up. He was still blind, that much was obvious. Whatever had allowed him to have those few moments of vision just before he’d let go of the flames had apparently been temporary. He ran a hand over his face; no burns, just the old scar over his eyes. Physically he felt fine. He felt around the bunk, feeling how the blanket over him was rumpled and folded back beside him, as though someone else had at one point been sleeping next to him. He swung his legs out to stand on the floor, and that was then he realised what was missing.

The Force was gone.

The vast web that connected him to the universe, the energy that constantly flowed around and through him, the extra senses that helped him to see without his eyes – it was all gone. How could that happen? Was it somehow related to his miraculous survival? Had he somehow given up his Force abilities in order to return to his family?

He wouldn’t find the answers by staying here. Carefully, he made his way to the door. He didn’t need the Force for this; the interior of the Ghost was as familiar to him as his own body. Out in the corridor he could tell that the sounds of people were coming from the cockpit, so that was where he directed himself.

He reached the end of the corridor through the crew quarters and stood before the door to the cockpit. Through it he could hear Ezra’s voice, though it sounded strange – tinny, as though coming from a hologram. He hit the door controls.

“I couldn’t have wished for a better family. I can’t wait to come home.”

He recognised the sound of static cutting out, as though a recording had been switched off, and Kanan remembered the other things the wolves had shown him. What would happen to his family after he was gone. What his sacrifice would allow to happen. They must have done it – Lothal was free, and Ezra was gone.

No-one seemed to have noticed his entrance; he assumed they were still recovering from Ezra’s message.

“Did I go a bit too hard on the self-sacrifice stuff?”

He heard the rustle of five heads turning towards him.

“Kanan!” Sabine’s overjoyed shout came from the co-pilot’s side of the cockpit, but he didn’t hear her move. Instead, he heard the familiar creak of the pilot’s chair and braced himself a moment before someone was throwing herself bodily into his arms.

He held her as tightly as she gripped him, her face pressed against his, their tears mingling on their cheeks. After a few moments, Kanan drew back enough to stroke a hand reverently over her cheek.

“You’re alive,” Hera whispered, her voice breaking as more tears began to flow.

“I’m alive,” he murmured back, doing his best to wipe them away with his thumb.

“And you’re okay!”

He could feel her cheeks forming a smile under his palm. “Well, I can’t see you any more.”

“What have I told you, love,” she said, but didn’t give him a chance to answer. Her hand cupped his face as she pulled him down for a kiss.

Their moment on the fuel pod didn't seem that long ago, yet the kiss was the sweetest Kanan could remember. He could have spent forever in that moment with Hera.

“Okay, that’s enough of that!” Sabine called, and Kanan heard the others finally moving towards him.

He felt Hera let go reluctantly, though she kept one hand on the small of his back as the rest of his family moved in for their reunions. Sabine wrapped her arms tightly around his waist, Zeb almost cracked his ribs with his crushing embrace, Rex gave him several slaps on the back with his and even Mart Mattin came in for a hug. Everyone was talking excitedly over each other, exclamations and questions filling the air, none of which Kanan knew how to answer.

One voice that caught his ear, however.

“At the end of his message, what Ezra said…” he heard Sabine say. “‘I’m counting on you’. Do you think he means to go after him?”

Kanan didn’t know who she was talking to, but he answered anyway.

“I think he does. And I think I know where you should start looking.”

#kanera #swoonjune2021 #kanan jarrus #hera syndulla #star wars rebels #star wars: rebels #kanan x hera #sw rebels #jedi night #fix it #kanan lives #sw fic #star wars fic #fic #pretchwritta #swoon june

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kanerallels · 3 years

Note

for your 111 celebration - star wars, kanera, karaoke??? :D

It would be my pleasure!!!

Pairing: Kanan Jarrus/Hera Syndulla

Word Count: TBD, I'm currently on mobile with no way of checking

Tags/Warning: rated G (for good grief, Kanan you drama queen). The only objectional thing is the fact that Ezra is presented as Kanan's biological son with very little explanation. TW for alcohol

The first time Hera Syndulla saw Kanan Jarrus after Gorse was nothing like what she’d expected.

She was in a cantina on Mykapo, waiting for Sabine to return from her mission-- the Mandalorian girl was picking up intel from one of their contacts who lived there, and Hera was watching her back from a distance. It was a good learning experience for the teenager, and she had Chopper with her. Hera was more than happy to sit in the bar waiting for her crew’s return-- and treat herself to a drink while she was at it.

Settled at one of the stools, Hera waited patiently for the bartender to come serve her. As she did so, her gaze wandered around the room. It was the standard cantina, containing quite a motley crew of beings, although not as many as there would be after the average work day. Then it would be filled to the brim with them. In the back of the room was a stage and a karaoke machine, currently being used by a very drunk, very tone deaf Quarren.

She wasn’t sure what made her glance to her side-- perhaps a slight rustle of sound, or the sudden sensation that someone was close by. But she did, and was startled to meet the bright blue eyes of a boy, who couldn’t have been much older than twelve.

“Hi,” he said, giving her a grin. “I’m Ezra. What’s your name?”

“...hi,” Hera responded, caught somewhat off guard. Regaining her equilibrium, she offered him her hand. “I’m Hera. It’s nice to meet you, Ezra.”

“Nice to meet you, too,” Ezra said, shaking her hand solemnly.

Curiosity flickering through her, Hera asked, “So, Ezra, what brings you to this bar? I’m… pretty sure kids aren’t allowed in here-- no offense.”

“None taken-- they’re not,” Ezra said with a shrug. “But the owner makes an exception for me, cause I’m awesome. Also, my dad works here.”

“Your dad, huh?” Hera gave the kid a once-over, taking in his scruffy blue-black hair and relatively clean orange jumpsuit. Nothing that would signify he was telling the truth-- but then, there was very little that would point to the opposite. “And where is your dad right now?”

Seeming unconcerned by her questions, Ezra craned his neck, looking around as the Quarren on stage stumbled off to several boos from the crowd. “Huh. Could have sworn he was-- ah-ha!! There he is!”

Ezra pointed, and Hera followed his hand to the karaoke stage, where a new song was starting on the machine. Standing next to it, holding the microphone, was a tall, familiar figure she hadn't thought she'd ever see again.

Kanan Jarrus sent her a crooked grin, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he lifted the microphone and said, “I'd like to dedicate this song to a special someone out there sitting at the bar next to my kid, the drop dead gorgeous Twi'lek woman. You know who you are.”

“Because you just told everyone,” Hera pointed out in exasperation, but Kanan didn't seem to be listening-- nor did the crowd, all of whom seemed deeply invested. Grinning widely, he started to sing, his voice a deep, rich baritone:

“I musta been through about a million girls,

I love em and I leave em alone

I didn’t care how much they cried, no sir,

Their tears left me cold as a stone.

But then I fooled around and fell in love,

I fooled and fell in love…”

Hera had to give it to him-- he had a good voice, better than she’d expected. Catching her eye, Kanan shot her a wink, and Hera dropped her head into her hands in exasperation. “So, he hasn’t changed at all,” she observed to herself.

“Wait, do you know Kanan?” Ezra asked, sounding delighted. “That’s awesome! How do you know him?”

“We met about five years ago,” Hera told him, pointedly avoiding Kanan’s gaze. “On Gorse. He was--”

“Wait, you’re the Gorse lady?” Ezra gasped, his eyes going wide. “No WAY. Kanan mentioned you a couple times.”

“Did he,” Hera said, raising an eyebrow. “Please, tell me exactly what he said.” She wasn’t exactly sure why Kanan would be talking about her with this kid-- his son? The ages didn’t exactly match up-- but she was definitely curious as to how it had come up.

Ezra frowned thoughtfully. “Let’s see-- I remember! He told me you were the best pilot he’d ever met, and that you were kinda crazy but also really smart and good at what you did-- but most importantly, he said that he'd trust you to watch his back.”

“What?” Hera said, taken aback. She'd expected parts of what Ezra said, and was even secretly pleased about the pilot part. But to know that she had Kanan's trust? That struck a different chord for Hera.

“I know,” Ezra said, nodding gravely. “It surprised me, too. Kanan doesn't really trust people. I mean, I've seen him trust people before, but it's been a really long time. So when I heard that he trusted you, I knew you had to be special to him.”

“I don't think that's quite true,” Hera said, mildly embarrassed. “Kanan and I-- well, we only knew each other for a little while. I don’t think he could have learned to trust me that much in that little time.” But even as she spoke, she remembered on the Forager, the moment when the ship was coming to pieces around them and Kanan had used the Force to save her. He’d showed her his deepest secret in that moment, a secret that could easily have him killed. But he’d trusted her with it. Maybe Ezra is on to something.

Shrugging, Ezra said, “Maybe, but I think he sees something special about you. Or hears-- he also mentioned your voice.”

As Hera turned that over in her mind, Kanan's song ended. The entire cantina burst into applause, and Hera couldn't resist an eye roll at his antics as he gave the crowd a wave and a bow. Strolling off of the stage, Kanan moved behind the bar and towards where Hera was sitting.

As he approached, Hera lifted an eyebrow at him. “Very impressive,” she said dryly. “Who would have thought you could sing?”

“I live to please,” Kanan said, leaning against the bar and grinning at her. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Hera said. “I do have one issue with the whole performance, however. Did it occur to you that I might be trying to keep a low profile, and wouldn’t want the entire bar staring at me?”

“Trust me, most of them are so drunk they won’t remember our names, faces or what song I chose,” Kanan assured her. “I wouldn’t dream of messing with whatever you’re up to now. We all remember how that went last time.”

“I didn’t think it went that badly,” Hera said, and Kanan’s grin widened.

“Oh, really?”

Giving him a look, Hera said, “The mission. I completed my objective, after all.”

“I suppose you did, Captain.” Straightening up, Kanan asked, “So, what can I get you?”

“Something non-alcoholic,” Hera said. “I’m here on business.”

“I’ve got the perfect thing. So, business, eh?” Kanan made a face as he opened the mini fridge behind him and pulled out a bottle of juice. “That never means anything good.”

“I thought you wanted to avoid that sort of thing,” Hera pointed out.

“Good point,” Kanan said, handing her a glass full of the juice. Hera took a sip and was pleasantly surprised at the familiar tangy taste of meiloorun, combined with something a little sweeter. As she took another sip, Kanan turned to Ezra. “And kid, what are you doing out here? We’ve talked about this.”

“It’s boring in the back,” Ezra protested. “There’s nothing to do, and no one to talk to. Don’t worry, Hera’s keeping an eye on me.”

Kanan’s gaze flashed from the kid to Hera. “Oh, she is now, is she? Well, you can’t sit at the bar, at the least. Come back here, okay?”

Ezra grumbled something, but vaulted over the bar in a very Kanan-like move. As he disappeared behind the bar, Hera said quietly, “I didn’t know you had a kid.”

“Recent development,” Kanan said calmly, and there was a snort from down where Ezra had settled.

“Try five years!”

“That, too,” Kanan agreed, but Hera’s mind was busy matching up the timeline.

“Five years? That was around the time we first met, wasn’t it?”

Nodding, Kanan said, “Yeah. It was actually shortly after that.”

“Was that why you didn’t come with me?”

“More or less.”

Ezra’s head appeared from behind the bar. “Wait, you asked Kanan to go with you? You never told me that! Were you two lovers?”

Hera nearly choked on her drink and Kanan let out a long sigh. “EZRA. We’ve talked about these kinds of questions.”

“You said I could ask you whatever I wanted,” Ezra pointed out. “The first day I moved in with you--”

“Yeah, I know, and you’ve proceeded to never let it go since. No, we were not lovers.”

“Not for lack of trying on your part,” Hera murmured into her juice.

“Ouch.”

“It’s just the truth, dear.”

“Fair enough,” Kanan muttered, a slight grin slipping across his face as Ezra snickered down by his feet.

“I like her.” he told the older man.

“Me, too,” Kanan told Ezra. Turning to Hera, he said, “So, it’s been a minute and a half since we talked. How’ve you been? Find some more crew for that gorgeous ship of yours?”

“I did,” Hera said, a small smile crossing her face. “I think you’d like them.”

“No idea if that’s a compliment for them,” Kanan joked. A serious look crossed his face. “However… I’m glad. Whoever this person is. I’ve always maintained that you needed more support in your life.”

“You never once said that,” Hera pointed out.

“No? Must have been someone else.”

“Must have been,” Hera said lightly. She paused for a minute, studying Kanan closely. He looked different-- older, of course. And despite his cavalier attitude, there was a new layer of something, responsibility, perhaps.

But more than any of those, he looked tired. Now that he was directly across from her, Hera could see the dark shadows under his eyes, and while he still leaned against the bar casually, there was the slightest slump to his shoulders. “Are you okay?” she asked quietly.

One of Kanan’s eyebrows shot up, and he looked caught off guard. “What?”

“You look exhausted,” Hera told him, deciding to just get straight to the point. Kanan opened his mouth, presumably to make some joke, and Hera speared him with a glare. “The truth, please.”

He closed his mouth with an audible snap, then sighed. “It’s been a long month. I’ve been working a lot lately. And this time of year is always… hard.”

Hera saw his gaze flick down to where Ezra was, and she frowned slightly. She knew Empire Day was coming up soon-- clearly, it had some special significance for these two.

She started to ask him another question, but heard a commotion behind her. Kanan’s gaze snapped up, and his hand slid towards where a blaster was. Hera turned and spotted Sabine and Chopper making a beeline towards her. “They’re with me,” she told him.

“This is your crew? Seems a little young,” Kanan remarked.

“Said the man with a son he didn’t tell me about,” Hera shot back, although she was getting less and less convinced that Ezra was Kanan’s biological son.

Before Kanan could respond, Sabine was next to them, the look in her eyes urgent. “Hera, we’ve got something.”

“What is?” Hera asked, and Sabine’s gaze moved to Kanan warily. “He’s fine,” Hera assured the Mandalorian.

Holding up a hand, Kanan said, “Don’t worry, Mandalorian. I want absolutely nothing to do with this.” Grabbing a cleaning rag, he began wiping down the surface of the bar.

“Not sure if that’s reassuring, but whatever,” Sabine said. Looking back at Hera, she said, “We got a lead.”

“On the survivor from Lasan?” Hera asked in shock. She felt Kanan’s gaze shift back towards them, but focused on Sabine. “Tell me everything.”

“Apparently, he was spotted a few days ago-- Hera, we have a location. He’s hiding out on Pantora.”

“Pantora? That’s only a few days from here.” Making up her mind on the spot, Hera turned to Kanan and slid him a few credits. “Thanks for the drink-- I need to go.”

He didn’t take the money. “You found a Lasat survivor?” he asked, his voice sounding stunned. “There are some left?”

“Only the one that we know of,” Sabine said, eying him warily. “Why? Also who is this?”

Kanan ignored her and turned to Hera. “Let me come with you.”

Hera’s eyes shot wide. “What? Kanan, now’s not the time for--”

“Hera, I’m serious. Let me come with you. I can help.” Kanan’s voice was shockingly urgent as he leaned across the bar, his gaze locking with Hera’s. “Please. I can help you get him to safety.”

“Why exactly do you want to help so much?” Sabine asked, her tone dripping with skepticism.

Kanan’s gaze didn’t leave Hera’s as he replied, “Because I’ve been where he is.”

Oh. Oh, kriff.

Hera hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “You can come.”

“What?” Sabine’s incredulity was almost immediately drowned out as Ezra jumped up from behind the bar.

“YES!!! Finally, we can leave Mykapo, it’s SO BORING here.”

“What the-- Who’s this?” Sabine demanded. “Hera--”

“I’ll explain on the way,” Hera promised. Looking at Kanan, she said, “Meet us in the space port. We’re in docking bay seven.”

“We’ll be there in fifteen minute,” Kanan replied, already moving, Ezra all but skipping at his side.

As Hera led the way out of the cantina, her two companions brimming with questions and suspicion, she had to admit-- she hadn’t expected to leave Mykapo with new crew members. But for whatever reason, she had a really good feeling about this, and about Kanan Jarrus. It all depended on what happened next, and Hera was very interested to see what that was.

#swr #kanan jarrus #hera syndulla #star wars rebels #ezra bridger #kanera #star wars #sabine wren #sw rebels #111 followers celebration #post a new dawn #i actually have a full post to make about this au explaining where and how ezra comes in #but that's a post for another time #kanan is a dad and no one can argue #swr fan fic #it was dope. the end

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oceanera12 · 4 years

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Losing Lightsabers Part II

I have more. Help.

Clones picking up after more Jedi (and Sith) because they are clumsy ... for reasons.

There were occasions- rare occasions- that Cody and Rex somehow switched places in battle. Thus, Cody finds himself back to back with General Skywalker while Rex deals with General Kenobi’s snark. Also they get to pick up after the other’s General. The two switch back as quickly as possible because no offense to either General but Cody can’t handle Skywalker charging into a battle unarmed and Rex can’t keep up with Kenobi’s mind.

That awkward moment where Palpatine dropped his saber and Fox found it. Seriously. Fox went into the Chancellor’s office to grab something and was a little confused when he found a random lightsaber on the ground. Of course Palpatine walked in at that point and froze in place for a second because how did that fall out of his robes? Fox: “Uh, sorry Chancellor, I think one of the Jedi left their saber. I can call the temple and inform them--” Palpatine: “Oh that’s quite alright Commander. That was Anakin’s and I already informed him of it. He’ll be here shortly but I’ll hold onto for now.” Fox: “Of course, sir.”

The 13th battalion adored their Commander, Cal Kestis. He was young, bright, full of life, and always willing to help. Even when it came to finding his lightsaber. He didn’t drop it often. If anything, he left it in the mess hall and one of the clones would chase him down and give it back. General Jaro Tapal never dropped his saber. Even if he did, the thing was pretty big and they were sure they could find it quickly. (Of course there was that time when the clones made Cal drop his saber down the lift corridor... aka the time they were trying to kill him.)

Vader. Flipping Darth Vader has dropped his saber. Several times. “It’s not his fault, it’s the machine parts.” Usually he picks it up with Force but every once in a while (before the clones were decommissioned), a clone would pick the thing up before he could move and hand it over without a word. Vader was then forced to look the blank eyed clone in the eye and he hated that look. So he’d usually kill the clone. No one commented on it. However, Vader started noticing a lot more clones around him and whenever the stupid tube slipped, there was almost a “dash” to the thing. More of a silent race, closest brother won. It took three times to figure out what was going on. Vader ordered the decommission shortly after.

Rex thought his picking up lightsabers was over when the Republic died. And then he met Kanan. Now for reasons Rex didn’t ask about, Kanan’s lightsaber split into two parts. And someone (Chopper) loved running off with one of them. So Rex would race off to find the piece because he was the best at finding it because he had experience in this kind of thing. And when Kanan went blind, especially at the beginning of the experience, Rex would find the lightsaber everywhere. On the Ghost, off the Ghost, in the wasteland, in the base, in Ezra’s room, just everywhere. It was a pain. And don’t get him started on the battles. Rarely did Kanan drop his saber, but when he did it always went flying. It flew across the room, into an Inquisitor’s hand that one time (Rex doesn’t like talking about that time), off a cliff, into a giant body of water, and Rex, like the good clone he was, took off after it. Old habits die hard, but this was a habit he would be glad to get rid of.

And don’t get Rex started on Ezra’s saber. That kid was as bad as Anakin. His “Gun” saber had been easier to find, but then he had lost it. So then this green one came about and suddenly Rex found himself finding it all over the battlefield. Ezra was always fine, using the Force and a lot of animal friends to keep safe but still!

Then Kanan... passed on and Ezra went MIA. So Rex assumed his lightsaber returning duties were over. He heard rumors, a few years later, about another Jedi in the Rebellion. It seemed too good to be true so Rex had ignored them. Then he volunteered to go to Endor’s moon under Solo of all people and ran into a kid named Luke Skywalker. And before speeder chases and meeting Ewok’s, the kid happened to just drop a very familiar looking metal tube while hiking through the woods. Rex just groaned, picked the thing up, shoved it into the kid’s hands and said, “Somethings just don’t change, do they.” Then he marched off leaving a very confused Skywalker behind.

Kix missed the end of The Clone Wars, the Rise of the Empire, and the Fall of the Empire because guess who learned too much about the chips and was then frozen in carbonite for fiftyish years? This clone! So imagine his surprise when he’s at Maz’s when this guy runs by holding a lightsaber. And not just any saber, oh no, he knows that saber: General Skywalker’s. The kid is clearly not a Jedi because he, for once, doesn’t drop the kriffing thing. Kix does the sensible thing and leaves it alone because heck no, he ain’t getting dragged back into that kriffing mess again. This medic is out.

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laurenmm62017 · 3 years

Text

When You Find Your Answers, I'll Be There Chapter 2

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31111016

Here's the 2nd chapter! I don't think I nailed Kallus' POV so i appreciate any feedback!

Alexsandr Kallus grew up on Coruscant, the most populous planet in the galaxy. He knew about soulmates before he was even able to walk. He was surrounded on all sides by people talking about soulmates.

He absolutely hated it.

He hated that all he can see are shades of grey just because he hasn’t met someone he’s supposed to spend the rest of his life with. He hated that it wasn’t even guaranteed that he and his soulmate would be romantic partners, but they could be simply platonic (which would be fine with him) or even hate each other (which he was less fine with). He hated that he might not even meet his soulmate AT ALL. He hated how all of his family, friends, classmates, and teachers always made such a big deal about soulmates.

He was so tired of it.

Alex was 11 when he was bullied for these views so much that he was cornered after school and beaten up so hard, his ribs were bruised for a solid month afterwards.

He decided then that he would enlist in the Grand Army of the Republic when he came of age. Everything was grey on those giant Venators anyways.

He never really thought about who his soulmate could be. He pushed himself to be as strong, fast, and smart as possible. He pushed himself so hard, he passed out due to exhaustion every night. During a particularly grueling sparring session, he had pushed so hard, that his partner grew enraged and broke his leg to get him to stop fighting. Pain lanced up and down his leg as he screamed and writhed on the ground. Their instructor calmly, almost too calmly, called to the medbay on campus for a stretcher. Alex never really forgot that look of apathy.

When Kallus was 20, The Galactic Civil War ended and the Empire rose to power, with Emperor Palpatine at the helm and his second in command Vader at his side. The Grand Army of the Republic became the Imperial Army, and he was recruited into the ranks as a Commander. It took a long time for ranks and respect to cement into place, but by the time he and his troops went on their first real mission to Onderon, a former base for major rebellions led by Saw Guerrera, he gained the respect of all under his command. He regarded them all as capable soldiers and friends in return.

The mission went south, of course. It turned out that Guerera’s troops hadn’t left the planet yet because they had blown up his company’s transports. Kallus had been knocked out in the first blast, and woke up on his back on the side of the road. He attempted to stand up, but he found that he couldn’t move a single muscle.

Then, slowly, a tall, dark grey Lasat menacingly prowled down the path of destruction, executing every one of the soldiers who were still showing signs of life.

John, Lina, Corbyn, their medic, Stim, everyone.

Kallus’ eyes were as wide as can be, as the Lasat slowly passed by his position.

‘Don’t notice me, don’t notice me, don’t noti-’ He frantically thought, but it was in vain.

The Lasat’s head whipped around to look at him, paralyzed on the ground.

“Well, well, looks like I found the commander of the group. That’s some fancy armor compared to the others, isn’t it?” He purred dangerously. Kallus tried to open his mouth, but found he still couldn’t move.

‘If you’re going to kill me, just get it over with.’ He glared up at the Lasat.

“Ooooooh, look at those eyes. Tell me, have you found your soulmate yet, Commander?” He snickered, leveling his weapon at him, some kind of modified electrostaff. “Tell you what? I’m feeling pretty generous tonight, so I’ll let you live. But I gotta make it look good. So what should I do.... Heh, I got it.”

The Lasat swung down on Kallus’ leg and it broke cleanly. Kallus still couldn’t move but the pain of the same leg that broke a few years ago was so excruciating, he passed out.

When he woke up, he was lying in a medical bed. His superior officer, Admiral Yularan, was sitting in a chair at his bedside.

“Good to see you awake, Commander. The medical droids tell me you’ll make a smooth recovery. Whenever you are able, I’d like a full report of what happened down there.”

“My men?”

Yularan shook his head sadly. “I’m sorry, my boy. You were the only one we found still alive.”

He looked up at the ceiling, anger, guilt, and fear flooded through him. He felt so helpless. He was caught off guard, and as a result, everyone was dead.

Because of him.

In that moment, on that uncomfortable medical bed, he vowed that this would never happen again.

Kallus was 26 years old when he was recruited into the Imperial Security Bureau on the recommendation of Admiral Yularan. He was trained to be ruthless, unforgiving, and as stoic as a rock. He was first assigned to Internal Affairs in order to keep loyalty to the Empire. He was very good at this job. Because he garnered the respect and loyalty or his coworkers and subordinates, many of them were rather to get in his favor by reporting any disloyalty or traitorous activity to him. He was one of the most successful Agents in ISB at this time. However, he was becoming restless just staying on Coruscant every single cycle. He wanted to get out in the field, and assist the Empire from out in the stars. He requested to be transferred to Investigations.

That was where he first encountered his soulmate.

His Lasat soulmate.

For kriff’s sake, how cruel could the universe be? A Lasat? The very one who slaughtered his first unit? One of the species he helped hunt to extinction. Surely this was a joke.

That first time he made eye contact with him, however, was admittedly magical. The way that color seemed to first saturate within the Lasat’s eyes, and spread to his soft-looking fur, and then to his surroundings made him pause for a moment. He was so captured in his eyes, it was like the galaxy paused just for this moment.

But reality came back as a blaster bolt nearly caught him in the shoulder and he ducked back to cover.

In his free time, he learned the names of the colors of his soulmate. His eyes were bright green. He had light purple fur and dark purple stripes. His jumpsuit is dark green normally, as he rarely could disguise himself. He encountered his soulmate many more times in the span of a few months, but he was never able to capture him or his group of rebels.

And then they somehow crash landed together on that Geonosian ice moon.

Alexsandr sat on the ground, and watched his soulmate, Garazeb Orrelios, member of the Spectre crew, jog towards the Ghost and as his friends poured out of the ship to welcome him back.

He sighed and leaned back against the wall of the cave they had taken shelter in.

“When you find your answers, I’ll be there.”

That is what Zeb had said. But why in the galaxy would he try to find answers to questions he knows he won’t like the answers to?

For himself? For the galaxy? For Zeb?

He knew that no one in the Empire would run out and embrace him like Zeb’s teammates had. The most interaction he will have is with the medical team to fix his leg. He would simply send a report to a superior officer that he would make up.

Kallus was picked up by an Imperial shuttle long after the Ghost left the atmosphere. As he suspected, he is sent to medical, discharged after his leg is set, and sent back to his quarters. No one except Konstantine greeted him on the way back.

Alone in his quarters, he sat down heavily on his bed and stared at the grey floor, walls, bedsheets. It was as if he had never even found his soulmate at all. The only burst of color there was the small meteorite he smuggled back with him.

“It’s the same color as Zeb’s bo-rifle…” He thought, idly stroking his thumb along the crevices in the meteorite.

“I’m going to find my answers, Zeb.”

The next time he saw Zeb in person was right after his escape from the Chimera. He messed up. He got caught, and he caused a huge loss for the Rebellion. Would he really be welcomed into their ranks after everything he had done? He was genuinely not planning to ever join up with them. If he got caught, he figured he would never see the light of day again and he would die as Fulcrum.

He never expected Kanan Jarrus, of all people, to approach him after their first jump into hyperspace.

“Kanan.” He whispered, clutching his arm to his chest and shifting his weight to one leg. It still hurt even after the medical droid looked him over. “Thank you, for taking me in.”

Seeing Kanan this close, without his mask, Alexsandr could see why the Jedi usually wore his green face shield. The scars across his face were much lighter than the rest of his face, jagged and haunting. Kanan placed a hand on his shoulder gently.

“Thank you, for risking everything.”

“It wasn’t that hard. Once I found my answers, it was clear to me.”

“We’re glad to have you, Fulcrum.” Kanan smiled and dropped his hand back down. “Zeb is in the common room, if you want to speak with him. The debriefing is almost over.”

“Thank you. Kanan. And please. My name is Alexsandr.”

He smiled at Alexsandr. “Get in there, Alexsandr.” Then, he continued through the ship with the comfort of someone who has been in a place for a long time.

Alexsandr slowly limped up to the door of the common room, pausing for one moment before he opened the door. Inside was Hera Syndulla, General Dodonna, Sabine Wren, and in the far corner, his soulmate, Garazeb Orrelios. Their eyes met and for a moment, it seemed as if everything fell away. It didn’t matter that he just barely managed to escape from the Empire. It didn’t matter that he had been beaten down over and over. All that mattered was that he was safe here, caught in those sharp, bright green eyes.

Zeb motioned for Alexsandr to stand next to him, and he limped over as fast as he could. He leaned his weight against the wall and Zeb placed his hand right next to his. He could feel the heat radiating off of Zeb, and in that moment, Alexsandr had never felt safer.

“So, did you find your answers?”

“I did.”

#kalluzeb appreciation week #kalluzeb #alexsandr kallus #garazeb orrelios

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softieskywalker · 3 years

Note

Mace Windu world between worlds AU where Ezra saves his great grandmaster from falling and Mace is suddenly thrust into a world where the entire order has been dead for years but there is Ezra who is still so bright and good even through hardship and also Ezra deserves vaapad

this is such a galaxy brain concept. imagine mace shows up in the middle of the siege of lothal. sadly kanan is already dead but mace takes one (1) look at ezra and decides My Padawan Now. don't worry kid grandpa windu is on the motherfucking case. ezra doesn't have to yeet himself into the unknown regions because mace takes them together to thrawn and kicks his blue ass. they take thrawn hostage and after being defeated by a teenager and a time traveling jedi master he's like "clearly this is too fucked up" and tells them about the death star and anakin being vader. mace is still debating if spacing thrawn is worth it. and of course skywalker's unstable ass went sith, mace TOLD THEM he was dangerous the second that punk showed up but NoooOoo they had to respect qui gon's last wishes. now they're all dead. and he's missing a motherfucking hand.

he teaches ezra vapaad and how to balance his darkness, and he's SO PROUD of his connection to living creatures. honestly if they had this kid back during the zillo beast incident maybe a lot of things would have gone differently. ezra is very sad about kanan but in constant awe of how competent his great grandmaster and now master is. like Holy Shit his lineage is awesome.

after they save lothal and rejoin the main rebellion mace finds out about kenobi from bail organa and flies to tatooine to kick his ginger depressed ass. kenobi you absolute IDIOT can you Please Make Sure the sith lords you battle are actually dead when you LEAVE???? obi wan cries for an entire day after mace tears him a new one. oh and SURPRISE skywalker had a kid, worse VADER has a kid, but luke is way too much of a sunshine to pose a real threat of falling so mace decides My Padawan Now. yes kenobi you heard me sit your ass back down. no i don't care about the only one padawan rule there's about 5 jedi left in the galaxy thanks to your padawan and i'm the grandmaster of the order now so the rules are whatever the hell i decide they are. what do you MEAN yoda is still alive??????

cut to mace flying to dagobah with his new two padawans luke and ezra –who are getting along a little too well– to kick yoda's green ass and drag him out of exile. yes you crazy ancient frog we're leaving this place and organizing how to fuck palpatine up. i don't care if you're old and decrepit we're dragging you out of here.

at some point yoda decides if mace gets two padawans he doesn't want to be left out and starts training leia. now imagine the sheer power of padawans ezra luke and leia during the rebellion era. also mace makes sure to tell luke the fucking truth because he's not lying to his fucking padawan, that's how you get them to resent you and murder the entire order, kenobi. so when vader captures luke or leia and wants to have his dramatic reveal of i am your father they're like we know bitch also look behind you and mace is there ready to cut off vader's hand, fuck you skywalker an eye for an eye.

they capture vader and mace is like you better start paying child support you fucker or we're unplugging your ass. vader is very ashamed. leia effectively kicks his ass. luke is just happy to have a dad.

in the end mace, yoda, obi wan and vader take down palpatine because the kids are still kids and we're not sending them to fight the creepy old bastard. the end.

#mace windu saves the timeline #mace windu #sw crack #inbox

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asterian · 4 years

Text

Getaway (Ezra Bridger x reader)

Summary: The reader takes Ezra to a small trip where he can rest a bit of all the pressure everyone puts on him.

Words: 1,150

A/n: someone requested fluff with my boy so here you go, hope you like it and thanks for reading ♥️😘

Ezra was stressed, you didn't need to have his Jedi powers to sense it. Between the missions, the empire constantly behind the team and his training with Kanan, you understood he must had have a lot of pressure on him, plus Chopper and Zeb always bothering him wasn't helping. They were going to drive the poor boy crazy if you didn't do something.

Taking advantage of the fact that Hera and Kanan had gone to find some supplies and the others were making repairs to the Ghost, you found the perfect time for Ezra to take a break from everything.

Ezra was working inside the little compartment in the Phantom fixing the power cells ruined in the last mission, he was so focused that he didn't realize you were leaning against the door frame of the shuttle. You stared at him while he tried his best to fix and replace the fried wires on the ship, he seemed calm and concentrated as he was humming a song to himself until a poorly connect cable sparked making Ezra jump and let out a tired sigh.

"Stupid wire" he cursed and coughed with the little smoke that had formed. You couldn't help but laugh at the boy who jumped in surprise at your presence accidently kicking his head when he tried to get out of where he was making you laugh even harder "ow!" he said rubbing his head before looking at you "hey, (y/n), I-I didn't see you there, I was a little busy"

"Yeah, I noticed" you said helping him out of the compartment "I also noticed you did everything backwards" you added pointing at the still smoking wires.

"I can't do anything right " he sighed frustrated kicking a nerbay tool. You hated seeing him like this.

"Hey, it's okay Ezra" you assured placing a hand on his making you both blush a bit "we'll fix it when we're back"

"Back? From where?" he asked with confusion and excitement on his voice.

"Well, you seem in need of a break and I happen to need a guide" you stated owning a raised eyebrow from Ezra. "C'mon, Bridger, it'll be fun"

He took a second to think your offer, it was true he needed to rest from everything, there had been a lot of changes in his life from being on his own to be part of the Ghost crew and being trained to become a Jedi, it was a lot to take for a boy his age. He wanted to go with you and let everything behind, even just for a couple of hours. What's life without a little danger after all? plus he got to spend more time with you now that his feelings for you were growing stronger.

"Let's go"

As soon as he agreed you practically were dragging the blue haired boy as you rushed outside of the ship. Once you reached the ramp you accidentally knocked down Zeb, Ezra and you exchanged a knowing look before start to run again.

"Come back here, kids!" yelled the lasat from where he was on the floor, but you pay him no attention you were too busy running away "I'm gonna kill ya both!"

Giggling you kept running as fast as your legs allowed you to, holding onto one another's hand, feeling the sun in your skin, the wind on your hair and his hand on yours, you felt alive.

After walking about half hour you finally arrived to the place you where looking for, a peaceful and small green valley where you could see some rock formations in the distance.

"This is what you wanted to see?" Ezra exclaimed a bit disappointed "a bunch of old rocks and a lot more of grass?"

"Yup" you said before laying down on the soft grass with your hands behind your head.

"Why?" he asked more confused than before. You patted at the ground next to you for him to lay down. He sighed and did as you instructed.

"Listen"

"What? I don't hear anything"

"Exactly" you affirmed "it's quiet, no sound from motors or blasters nor Chopper beeping around"

"Yeah, no Kanan or Hera screaming at me" he added making you both laugh.

Together you watched the clouds ranging from pink to purple shades dancing a gentle dance over the vast blue sky forming all kinds of different shapes, just enjoying the presence of each other. Peace.

After a time Ezra softly raised a hand pointing at the sky. "That one looks like a loth-cat"

You laughed softly following your gaze where he was pointing, fascinated by the way he saw things, you simply couldn't be more in love with the boy.

"Which one?" you asked being unable to find the cloud he was referring to. At your surprise he shifted closer to you see from your perspective and pointed again.

"That one" Ezra affirmed "do you see it?" he said looking back at you and blushing at the realization of the sudden closeness. Blue eyes scanned your features for a second sending shades of pink to your cheeks and making your heart beat faster.

"(Y/n)... I-l" he said awkwardly as is he was searching for the right words to say "thanks for everything,I mean...I didn't know how much I needed this" he confessed propping on his elbows and stared back at the sky then at you a bright smile on his lips. What a beautiful sight you thought.

"You owe me one, Bridger" you joked owning a chuckle from him. You wished you could stay like this forever just you, him and a sky full of loth-cat looking clouds. The sound of your comlink send you back to reality.

“Spectre 6, Spectre 7, where are you?” said a very angry Kanan.

Ezra and you exchanged gazes before he answered "Hey, we went out to do some… recon?"

"Recon?" yelled the Jedi through the comlink.

"Yeah" you assured "so busy, no time to talk, bye" you added finishing the call, you waited a second and then busted in laughter.

"He's gonna kill us when we're back, you know" he reminded you as he helped you to stand up.

"Yeah, I know" you said "but it was worth it" you cooed and then without thinking you left a light kiss on his cheek very close to the corner of his lips "race to the Ghost!" you challenged and ran leaving the blue haired boy behind flushed and smiling as he caressed the place where your lips were moments ago.

"That's cheating!" he screamed once he processed your words.

"No, it's not!" he heard you yell as you kept running. Ezra shaked his head chuckling and ran after you.

#ezra bridger #ezra bridger x reader #ezra bridger x you #ezra bridger x y/n #star wars rebels #star wars imagine #star wars #kanan jarrus #sabine wren #garazeb orrelios #hera syndulla #asterian #rebels #sw rebels #lothal #gender neutral reader

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bedlamsbard · 3 years

Text

Part 9 of the other side AU concept! I did split this one when it started getting long, so there are some scenes snippeted earlier that aren’t here because they’re in part 10. (Which should be the final part but who knows, since I’m doing this for fun and will continue until I’m not entertained anymore.) I also want to add a gentle reminder that despite its length, this is concept writing, not a polished, chaptered, titled fic like Backbone or Gambit.

Previous: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

5.3K below the break.

***

“I have something for you.”

The younger Kanan sounded unspeakably weary, for which Kanan couldn’t blame him. He said gently, “Did you get any sleep?”

“Some.” He felt the younger man eye him, hesitating on whether or not to say anything else, then he said, “This happens pretty often.”

“I’m –”

“Not as sorry as I am.” The kid scrubbed his hands back through his hair, letting his breath out in a sigh. “It’s fine. You were – I know what you were trying to do.” He put a shoulder against the wall, scuffing a foot absently against the floor.

“Kid –” Kanan hesitated, turning his head briefly in the direction of the common room door. He was aware of both women in the other room, having some kind of argument with Chopper about either fruit or repairs; he couldn’t figure out which of the two it was without putting more than glancing attention to it.

“I’m starting to feel like you’re just calling me that to get a rise out of me.” His voice was dry, with a hoarse note to it after the previous night’s screaming. Kanan had noticed that he always spoke a little hesitantly, as if he was never quite certain he should be doing so at all.

“The alternative is a little confusing, but I’ll stop if you want.”

He felt the younger man’s brief amusement. “It’s fine. I know what you mean.” He tapped a finger against his forehead. “And you don’t do it the way the rest of the Inq – the way it is at the Crucible.”

He stepped back from the wall, letting the door to his room slide open behind him; Kanan followed him inside. It was on the tip of his tongue to apologize again, but he stopped himself; words only did so much when it came to Jedi. Instead, he said, “Will you be all right?”

They both knew he didn’t just mean after the events of the previous night. The other Kanan sighed and said, “I don’t know.” He turned his attention to his hands, studying his unmarked palms and the faint scars across the backs of his knuckles. “Would you be?”

“I was lucky.”

“Every other –” He hesitated for a long moment, then grimaced and finished, “– every other pet the Hunter had died. So maybe I was lucky too.”

“You’re alive.”

“Yeah.” He snorted. “I guess.” He gestured at the meditation cushion and Kanan took a seat, folding his legs tailor-style. His automatic impulse was to let his mind roll out, but he kept a hold on himself instead, studying the younger Kanan without reaching further into the Force than he had to.

The kid turned away from him, opening the drawer beneath his bunk. Kanan felt the bright flare of the holocron’s awareness and the other Kanan flinching away from it, unwilling to test himself by bringing it out. He turned around with his – with Caleb Dume’s – lightsaber in his hand, offering it to Kanan.

“I know you don’t have yours,” he said quietly. “And I don’t – I can’t – it’s a Jedi’s weapon, and I’m – I’m not a Jedi anymore.”

Kanan got to his feet. He felt the boy look up quickly, his eyes widening, and knew somehow that his gaze had gone immediately to a point three inches above his own head – where the Grand Inquisitor’s eye line would have been. After a moment the younger Kanan swallowed, biting his lip.

After a moment, he said, “You didn’t see the worst of it.”

Kanan bit his lip. His sleep the rest of the night had been restless, a welter of incoherent dream fragments that he knew he had picked up from the other man during their connection, and some of it had been worse than he had imagined the first time he had touched the younger man’s mind. He had woken up with the light touch of Hera’s hand on his shoulder and nearly flung himself off the bed, as if burned by her touch. It had taken him three shuddering breaths to remember who she was and where they were, and who he was, for that matter.

He put his hand on the hilt of the lightsaber, just above the boy’s, but didn’t take it from him. The other Kanan started to release it, then stopped.

Kanan could feel the kyber crystal beneath his fingers, familiar but also not at the same time. It was just slightly discordant to his senses, a difference in resonance to his own so slight that he might not have noticed it if he hadn’t known his own kyber crystal so well. The crystal is the heart of the blade…

He drew his hand back, and felt the younger man look up at him in surprise. “It’s your lightsaber,” Kanan said gently. “Reach out with your senses – can you feel it?”

“I’m not a Jedi,” the boy said again. He turned his attention down to the weapon in his hand, his mind reaching out to the crystal and then flinching back even as Kanan felt it welcoming him.

“Why do you think that?” he asked quietly. “That you aren’t a Jedi, I mean.”

The boy looked up at him. “I’m an Inquisitor,” he said, his voice flat. His free hand dropped to the lightsaber on his hip, then jerked away as soon as his fingers brushed the metal of the hilt. “I can’t be. Not after what – not after.”

Kanan couldn’t tell if he had meant to say “not after what I did” or “not after what happened to me,” but he didn’t ask. He said, “You didn’t bleed your crystal, though.”

“No. I – my lightsaber was on the Ghost when I was…when my master took me from Naboo. When we got to Mustafar – to the Inquisition headquarters there, the Crucible – they put me in a room with four trainee Inquisitors, all armed. I wasn’t. That’s where I got this.” He touched the lightsaber on his hip again, then closed that hand into a fist.

Kanan put his hand out silently, and after a moment the other man took that lightsaber off his belt and put it into his hand. He turned his mind to it, cautious, and felt the kyber crystal respond.

He could sense the boy’s sudden interest; he had felt the kyber crystal’s reaction too. Without turning his attention from the lightsaber, Kanan sat back down on the meditation cushion, folding his legs in front of him. When he dropped his hands to rest on his knees, the lightsaber stayed where it was, suspended in the air before him. His mind ticked over the weapon, pulling it into its component parts.

It had been the standard Inquisitor’s double-bladed lightsaber with its circular guard before, he found. At some point the younger Kanan had dissembled it and reassembled it to his liking, clearing the crystal of its taint when he had done so; the second kyber crystal that made the dual blade possible was gone. Casting his mind out further, Kanan couldn’t sense it anywhere on the ship – though with unaligned kyber crystals it was always hard to tell – so the boy might have left it on Mustafar or lost it somehow.

He lifted the remaining kyber crystal gently away from the other components to examine it on its own. It was attuned to the other Kanan, but only weakly, the way any item in the possession of an active Force-user would attune itself to them over time. The boy’s fear had kept him from sinking into it inasmuch it was possible with any random kyber crystal, rather than the one he had found on his Gathering.

Kyber crystals weren’t sentient, not like people and not the same way holocrons developed a kind of low-level sentience over time. But they weren’t not, either, and Kanan could feel this one responding to him with cautious interest and gaining enthusiasm. The other Kanan hadn’t hated it – either he was too good a Jedi for that or he had saved those strong emotions for the Grand Inquisitor, either consciously or otherwise – but he had both resented and feared it.

He could sense the crystal’s previous owners entangled in its matrix. It puzzled him for a moment; amongst the Jedi kyber crystals were only ever passed down between Temple Guards, who set their own lightsabers aside as long as they served in that post, and he had never had any reason to examine a Temple Guard’s lightsaber closely.

The Grand Inquisitor was a Guard, he thought with a sudden start. Not for the first time, he wondered how much of what he had seen in the temple on Lothal had been real.

Telemetry wasn’t one of his wild talents and this wasn’t really telemetry, but he still blinked in surprised at the flash of memory that he felt through the crystal. It passed in less than a second, but even that was long enough for Kanan to be aware of the younger Kanan’s constant fear, that hot flash of satisfaction when he had taken it from the Inquisitor who had borne it previously, that Inquisitor taking it from another, and another before him, and then a moment, scraped raw and bare, when the crystal been removed from its original lightsaber and bled to its red sheen. Beyond that, there was nothing, as though the trauma of its bleeding had wiped the crystal matrix of its memory of its first bearer.

I’m sorry, Kanan thought, for whatever that was worth. The idea of his own kyber crystal being stripped from his lost lightsaber and corrupted that way was unbearable, nearly as bad as the loss of his sight. Kyber crystals were sacred to the Jedi; his own body was only flesh.

He felt the crystal align itself to him, the resonance of its silent song altering incrementally until he could barely tell it apart from his own body. He let it settle back into the framework of the lightsaber hilt, his mind bringing the disparate pieces back together, settling firmly and comfortably into place. When he raised one hand, the lightsaber fell neatly into his palm, feeling different somehow than it had when he had first taken it from the boy.

He raised the lightsaber in front of him, feeling the strong, familiar warmth of it in his hand. He depressed the trigger almost without conscious thought, the blade springing up before him.

“It’s blue,” the younger Kanan said, his voice harsh with longing. “It’s yours.”

Kanan deactivated the lightsaber and let his hand fall to rest on his knee. “That weapon is yours,” he said, nodding at the lightsaber the other man still held. “You know it, I know it, your crystal knows it. The crystal is the heart of the blade; the heart is the crystal of the Jedi; the Jedi is the crystal of the Force; the Force is the crystal of the heart. All are intertwined – the crystal, the blade, the Jedi – you are one.”

The other Kanan began to weep, harsh, gasping sobs that shook his whole body. Kanan was on his feet in an instant, pulling the younger man into his arms as he wept. The other man didn’t try to pull away, just leaned against him. He was all turmoil in the Force, fear and pain and the open, bleeding wound that was his connection to the Hunter. Kanan held him the way he would have held Ezra, but unlike with Ezra he didn’t need to speak out loud; just let the warmth of the Force pass between them in something more primal than words. Words would have rung false, anyway; so he just held the other man, letting him cry as if his heart was broken.

“Do you remember when we went to that mountain resort in the Mid Rim?” Hera murmured, her lips against the back of Kanan’s shoulder. His skin was warm against hers, still a little sweat-slick from their earlier love-making. She felt comfortably relaxed, curled against his back with one leg thrown over his. “When that Imperial officer was supposed to meet with that spice dealer?”

“And he broke his neck skiing and we got to spend the rest of the week eating expensive desserts on someone else’s credit and having sex in front of the fire?” Kanan said, his voice warm and amused.

Hera flushed despite the fact that they were both naked in bed together. Their – whatever it was – had still been new enough to be a little shocking to her, but she had been able to put that aside when they were on their op, undercover as an Imperial officer on a discreet vacation with his Twi’lek mistress. The role had let her relax a little, to admit that, just for a little while, this was what she wanted – to shut the world out beyond the confines of their small suite.

“I think that resort is still there,” she said. “There wasn’t much fighting on that world – just a little in the cities, not out in the countryside. I wouldn’t mind going back sometime.”

Kanan turned over so that they were facing each other. “I wouldn’t mind that either,” he said. He kissed her, his mouth warm and comfortable against hers, and Hera smiled.

She put an arm around his shoulders to draw him closer to her and murmured, “Well, there isn’t a fire right now, but –”

“I think dessert’s right here,” Kanan said, grinning against her mouth. He had one hand on her back, moving it lower to squeeze slightly and make her gasp.

Hera kissed him again to stop him from saying anything else.

“I’ll miss you,” the other Hera said. Her voice was still a little hesitant, as if she wasn’t certain how to admit any of her own feelings to anyone else. “It’s…nice to have another Twi’lek around. And you’re not like –” She flexed her fingers on the handle of her caf cup, thinking for a moment before she went on. “My family wants certain things from me, and I just…I don’t know how to be that for them. You never wanted anything from me.”

“I wanted you to leave the Empire,” Hera said gravely.

“You never told me that,” the girl pointed out. “You never expected it.”

Hera opened her mouth to respond and then hesitated, thinking back on everything she had said those past few days. She supposed she hadn’t ever come out and asked for anything other than help getting to Scarif, and she wasn’t certain she had ever asked outright for that either. She had stated her case, and left the two Imperials to make up their own minds.

“I didn’t need to,” she said at last. She smiled at the other woman over her own cup. “I didn’t have to.”

The other Hera sighed. “I wish I could have that kind of faith in anything.”

Hera flicked a glance in the direction of the cabins, where the two Kanans had gone to talk or meditate or both. “Nothing?”

The girl followed her gaze and sighed again. “I love Kanan more than anything,” she said, lowering her voice. “And I know he loves me. But – it’s not him, it’s me.” She looked down at her mug, turning it until the handle pointed directly at her, then up at Hera’s distressed expression and bit her lip. “Oh,” she said, even softer. “It’s me, then, not…us.”

Hera tried to arrange her features into something less appalled and reached across the table to lay one hand on the other woman’s. “I would stay if I could,” she said. “Both of us would.”

The girl turned her hand palm up and curled her fingers briefly around Hera’s. “When I was at the Academy, I never –” She hesitated over the words, frowning. “I…forgot who I was. And I can’t be – I can’t be you, or who I would have been if I’d grown up with the Fleet, but I didn’t know what was…me…and what was – what was the Empire.” Her hand moved briefly under Hera’s, as if starting to gesture before she stopped herself. “It’s…nice, I suppose…to have a baseline.”

“I’m not sure I’m much of a baseline,” Hera said mildly.

She lifted a shoulder in a brief, constrained shrug, the same kind of gesture Hera had seen a dozen Imperial defectors make over the past few years; uniformed Imperials weren’t prone to much in the way of expression, while armored troopers tended to exaggerate their gestures when they made them at all. “You’re something. And I can’t – I’ve never been able to remember anything from before the Spire very well. It’s there, but it’s – it’s like it happened to someone else, or something that I watched in a holovid.”

She looked down again, not releasing Hera’s hand. “Auntie said – but it’s not what happened at the colony. I mean, it didn’t help, but – the Spire – my cell there – it was my whole world for so long. It’s like my life ended there.”

Hera squeezed her hand, not knowing what to say in response. If she had been one of her cadets back in the Alliance there were things she could have said, but this wasn’t a cadet or a recruit or another officer, it was…her. It could have been her.

The other Hera looked up suddenly, heat flushing her cheeks. “May I ask you something? You can say no. It’s – it’s a little – a lot – personal.”

“Of course,” Hera said, bemused. She squeezed the other girl’s hand again, then released her to wrap her fingers around her mug.

“You and Kanan – your Kanan.” The girl bit her lip, not meeting her eyes. “When –”

Hera bit her lip, not sure whether to blush, laugh, or cry. “Sometime around now, I think,” she admitted, after a moment where she got herself under control. She could feel heat in her face, spreading up under her flight cap to the base of her lekku.

The girl’s eyes went wide. “That’s a long time,” she blurted out, then covered her mouth with one hand. “I’m sorry –”

“No, it’s – when did you?”

The other Hera looked down, blushing so hard that it vanished beneath the high collar of her shirt and the edge of her flight cap. “About four months after Gorse,” she said, her voice small. “He was so beautiful, and he – he was so kind and he – I wanted him so badly. I never wanted anything – or at least, I never wanted anything and got it before then.” She put her hands over her face, breathing hard, then lowered them after a moment. “You don’t know what it’s like in the service if you’re a Twi’lek. They’re – it’s –” Her hands were shaking.

Hera reached across the table and took her hands in both of hers again. “It’s all right,” she said gently. “It’s over with now.”

The girl wouldn’t meet her eyes. “I thought I was broken,” she said. “People kept – telling me things about what Twi’leks – what Twi’lek women – were like, and I – I knew they were wrong, but they kept saying it, and I felt like I was going mad. Or that I was broken. Or both. And he – I wanted him so badly. I’ve never felt like that about anyone else. He was – he still is – so beautiful, and I wanted him so badly. I didn’t think that I – that I could feel like that. He wasn’t like anyone else I had ever met, and he – he treated me like I was a person. Like it didn’t matter. Or – that’s not right. Like it was just part of me. Like me being a Twi’lek mattered because it was part of me, not – not because I was a Twi’lek. Do you – do you know what that’s like?”

“A little,” Hera said. “It was different for me.”

The other woman looked at her uncertainly, but whatever she saw in Hera’s eyes must have convinced her. “What was it like for you?”

Hera hesitated, setting her teeth against her lower lip as she thought. “I wanted to fight,” she said finally, trying to remember what had been going through her head at the age of eighteen. “More than anything. My father only cared about Ryloth, but I wanted something bigger. Kanan – I met him on Gorse too – was part of that. I couldn’t let myself think about anything past that. He understood that.”

The other Hera nodded slowly. “What happened?”

“Well, we both almost died,” Hera said, and the girl made a sound that was almost a laugh, though she immediately looked worried that Hera would be offended. “It was complicated. I probably made it more complicated than it needed to be; I never wanted to talk about it. We just – went on, I suppose. And then we started getting a crew, and – it was harder because there were more people on the Ghost –”

The girl winced, for which Hera couldn’t blame her.

“– it was all right,” Hera hastened to assure her. “It was just different. And then Kanan got an apprentice, and we started working with other Rebel cells –”

The other woman nodded in sudden understanding. “Everyone at the ISB knew about us,” she said softly. “But around other people it’s different.”

Hera nodded. “It was stupid of me,” she admitted. “We’d been together for a decade – sleeping together for most of that – and I just thought we’d go on. He – knew. He knew there was something coming. And I wouldn’t –” She took a suddenly shaky breath; this time it was the other woman who squeezed her hands.

After a moment she raised her head and smiled crookedly at the other Hera. “It’s good that he knows you love him,” she said. “And that you know. I wish I’d had that when I was your age. There’s nothing wrong with having a mission, but – I thought it had to be that at the cost of everything else for such a long time. That cost us both.”

“I’m sorry,” the girl said gravely. “That sounds difficult.”

Hera didn’t think it sounded half as difficult as what she had been through, but she wasn’t going to say as much, since she wasn’t sure that there was anything she could say about it that wouldn’t sound like a veiled insult. “Will you be all right, once we’ve gone?”

The other Hera nodded. “Yes. I don’t know what we’ll be – who we’ll be – but I think we’ll be all right.” She glanced at the door the two men had gone through. “He’s better now. I didn’t think he ever would be.” She hesitated, then added, “I am too.”

Hera squeezed her hands. “I’m glad,” she said. “I wish –” She wished a lot of things, but at the end of the day she needed to get the Cluster-Prism data back to the Rebellion and she needed to get back to her son.

“We’ll be all right,” the other Hera said again. “Both of us. I – thank you. I don’t know what would have happened otherwise, but…thank you.”

“This could be a little awkward,” Hera said thoughtfully. She accepted her blaster from the other Hera with a faint smile, automatically checking the safety and the charge before holstering it; since she had never needed it she hadn’t bothered asking for it back before now.

Kanan smiled at her. “Awkward as in ‘duck, they’re going to start shooting’ or awkward as in ‘this is going to take a lot of explaining’?”

“Probably the second one,” Hera said. She checked the bag slung over her shoulder for the fifteenth time that morning, making sure that she had the datacards with the Cluster-Prism files and the ISB files she had gotten from the other Hera, along with the box Bail Organa had given her for Leia. “Maybe the first one, depending who’s there. I hope Zeb hasn’t decided to make a three-ring circus out of this. Or Chopper.”

Chopper grumbled at the sound of his name and Hera smiled a little. “My Chopper,” she clarified. “Not you.”

Kanan grinned in reminiscence, then stepped aside to talk quietly with the other Kanan. Hera turned away to give them some privacy, looking at her counterpart. After a moment she held out her arms.

The girl hesitated, then stepped into her arms, returning the embrace. Despite the obvious muscle in her shoulders and arms she still felt terrifyingly fragile to Hera, as if she might shatter under too much pressure. Hera pressed a kiss to her forehead and said, “You’ll be all right.”

She got a smile in response. “So will you,” the other Hera said. She hugged Hera again, then stepped back.

Hera looked over in time to see Kanan put an arm around the younger man’s shoulders in a swift, fond embrace. He said something to him, too low-voiced to make out, and the other Kanan nodded, his response equally soft. When Kanan released him, he came over to Hera.

She put her hands out to him, smiling, and he took them. “Thank you,” she started to say, at the same time he said, “Thank you –”

Hera laughed, then released his hands so that she could hug him. “Thank you,” she said again. “I just – thank you.”

He hugged her back. “Thank you,” he murmured in response. He didn’t clarify that, but he didn’t have to.

“Be well,” Hera told him gently, kissing each cheek. She hugged him once more, then let go of him.

The other Hera was speaking shyly to Kanan. Hera waited for them to finish, then saw both men wince in unison.

“Are you all right?” the younger Hera said, startled.

“It’s starting,” her Kanan said. He gave Kanan a crooked smile. “I think we’re both going to be sensitive to that for the rest of our lives.”

“Forgive me for hoping it never comes up again,” Kanan said, returning the same grin. He put his hand on the other Hera’s shoulder, smiling at her, then stepped back.

Hera held out her hand and he took it as he stepped up beside her. She could feel the pressure coming, the air starting to hum as her vision flickered at its edges. The younger Kanan and Hera backed up, as did Chopper.

“May the Force be with you,” said the girl.

The universe dissolved around them.

“– ait, there’s something wr –”

Luke Skywalker’s voice was garbled, as if coming over a malfunctioning comm. Hera tried to respond and couldn’t; when she breathed in, there was nothing there and she gagged; she opened her eyes not to blackness but to nothing, to an absence. She would have screamed if she could have.

The only thing she was aware of was Kanan’s grip on her hand. She felt his fingers flex against hers, his breath hissing out between his teeth with effort.

“– ith me, togeth –”

The second voice was female, familiar, with the same quality of being barely there. Hera flailed out wildly with her free hand, but there was nothing. It was like being in vacuum, but worse; there were no stars, no planets, no pieces of shattered starships to orient herself with. There was only Kanan’s hand.

“– n, think about your mo –”

Kanan’s hand flexed on hers again. Hera dug her nails into the back of his hand, terrified that she might release him by accident and lose him in the void.

“– the Force –“

Hera had the sudden sense of being thrown, disorientingly familiar as the familiar confines of the Ghost’s common room coalesced around her. For an instant she still saw the younger Kanan and Hera where she had seen them last, then they were gone, replaced by Zeb and Chopper. She staggered sideways, fighting back nausea and supporting herself on the holotable before she fell over.

“Whoa!”

“Mama!”

Hera jerked upright in time to see Alexsandr Kallus grab Jacen and thrust him behind himself before he could run to Hera, his hand on his holstered blaster. Sabine was there too, her blasters already in her hands and raised, pointing at –

Hera flung herself in front of Kanan, who had very sensibly not moved. “It’s him!” she said. “I swear, it’s him!”

She took in everyone in the room with a glance – Zeb, Chopper, Sabine, Kallus, Jacen, Luke and Leia, Rex in the doorway, and –

Ahsoka Tano, one of her lightsabers already in her hand and ignited, her expression hard. Kanan’s head was turned towards her, his white eyes fixed on hers. Luke, who was holding the bell-shaped artifact between his hands, drew in a sharp breath; even Hera felt the air flex between them.

“It’s him,” she said again. “It’s Kanan, I swear.”

“We’ll see about that.” Ahsoka deactivated her lightsaber but kept in her hand as she stepped forward, gesturing Luke to stay back when he made to join her.

“You’re supposed to be dead,” Kanan told her quietly as she approached.

“I could say the same for you,” Ahsoka said. Her gaze went to the lightsaber on his belt, the one he had gotten from the other Kanan, then she said, “Don’t fight me.”

“Don’t give me a reason to.”

“He’s –” Hera started to say, but Ahsoka held up a hand to silence her.

“It’s all right,” Kanan said, turning a quick smile on her. “This won’t take long.”

“What –” Sabine started to say, then gave it up, her blasters still raised.

Ahsoka replaced her lightsaber on her belt and placed her palms on either side of Kanan’s head, her gaze boring into his. Kanan didn’t pull away; Luke sneezed and Leia put a hand to her head, her expression pained. Jacen made a startled sound and Hera made a reflexive motion towards him before Kallus met her eyes. She stopped.

Ahsoka stepped back suddenly, her breath ragged. “I –”

Kanan wiped blood away from his lower lip where he had bitten through it. “That’s a little hypocritical, isn’t it?”

She stared at him for a long moment, then took a step back until she could sit down abruptly on the bench-seat, pressing a hand to her forehead. Something passed silently between them, and Ahsoka’s hard expression softened. Her shoulders slumped suddenly as she said, “It’s good to see you again, Kanan.”

There was a long moment of silence in the room, then Sabine flung herself forward with a shout, nearly bowling Kanan over as she hugged him. Zeb was just behind her, sweeping Hera into the embrace as well as they almost knocked the holotable out of its seating.

“How!” Sabine said, not so much a question as an exclamation “How – it’s you? It’s really you? This isn’t a trick?”

“It’s me,” Kanan said, sounding slightly strangled. “It’s really me.”

Zeb yelled in triumph. Hera found herself laughing, effulgent with joy and success. She could hear Chopper shrieking just behind her and managed to disentangle herself from the group embrace to kneel down and put her arms around her droid. “I missed you,” she told him fondly, then looked up.

Kallus looked as gobsmacked as everyone else in the room, still holding onto Jacen’s hand as they came over. “Mama!” Jacen said, and Hera released Chopper to put her arms out. She swept her son into a hug, kissing his forehead and breathing in his familiar scent.

“Hello, love,” she said. “I missed you.” She reached behind herself without looking, knowing when Kanan took her hand. He knelt beside her, and Hera looked over at him, smiling. She was crying; she didn’t remember starting, but she could feel the tears on her cheeks. “Jacen,” she said, “this is your father.”

#cut scenes and concept writing #as always comments are appreciated #other side au tag

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