Kanan knew his time was coming. He knew from the moment the Loth-wolf stopped him on the highway to Capital City. He didn't want to believe it then. He spent hours meditating following the encounter, hoping and praying that there would be a different outcome, but he'd spent years fighting the Force and if there was one thing Kanan Jarrus learned from that, it was that the Force answered to no one. Its will would be carried out no matter how hard you tried to fight it.

And now, as he lay on the glider with Hera's warm body pressed next to his, he knew with a surety what he had to do. He felt the cold gusts of wind piercing him, felt Hera's lekku softly bumping against his back, being blown by the wind like his hair would have been had he not cut it. He smelled the pollution in the air as they made their way closer and closer to the fuel depot. Yet ultimately, he felt the absence of his lightsaber at his side, like the warmth of the sun, constant and sure, had been ripped from the sky and his world was suddenly filled with a lingering chill.

That was why he knew. He knew what a lightsaber meant to a Jedi, especially one like him. A Jedi on the run, one that was hunted by the entire galaxy. It was strange, Kanan thought, that a man like him who had been running from his past for so long, a Jedi who kept his lightsaber hidden away longer than he had kept it by his side, could feel so barren without it.

When Ruhk had knocked the lightsaber out of his hand, he felt the humming of his kyber crystal growing more and more distant until he could sense it no longer. He supposed it had fallen hundreds of feet from the dome, and in that moment, he knew he wouldn't be getting it back. Even though Kanan Jarrus was blind, he never had a problem locating his lightsaber, even in the early days after Malachor. Jedi had a deep connection to their kyber crystal, the Force made sure of that.

His thoughts turned to his old life, the one where he was called Caleb Dume.

"This weapon is your life, Caleb. You mustn't lose it." Master Billaba had told him that during his first campaign on Kardoa, when in an excited frenzy to officially be part of the Clone War, he had left his lightsaber at their encampment, not realizing it wasn't with him.

He had been so young, exuberant and innocent then, not realizing the gravitas of the situation. At the time, he wondered about Master Billaba's words. Why is it my life? What does she mean by that?

Now he knew. That kyber crystal had seen many battles. It had protected his master, it had protected his battalion, it had protected his family: Hera, Ezra, Sabine, Zeb and even Chopper. It had protected him. That lightsaber had been a true and faithful companion, even during the long years he had kept it hidden from the galaxy, from himself.

"This weapon is your life." His lightsaber was gone now. He knew what he had to do. To protect Ezra's home, to protect the Rebellion, to protect Hera and their unborn child, to protect his family, his crew. He knew there was no other way. The Force had always been with him, and this moment was no different. Ezra would be safe, Hera and their child would be safe, Sabine would be safe.

"This weapon is your life," he thought while running towards the fuel tanks with Hera by his side.