First story, I beg for mercy from the flames blah, blah, blah. Let us begin...
Kanan sat down on his bunk and sighed. It had been a long day. He was never going to be a good enough master to Ezra. He only truly realised this when Ezra asked him a question about Form III. "Why?" If Kanan had been Depa Billaba he would have known the answer. But he wasn't. Ezra didn't know how little Kanan really knew. Ezra thought he was at least a jedi knight,A hero in...well not shining armour, brown robes actually.
The door opened and Kanan looked up to see Hera.
"Love why aren't you training Ezra?" She asked, her tone a mix of concern and annoyance.
"Im not able to. Maybe we should stop trying to be jedi and just accept that the order is dead and-" "Kanan. The jedi are the guardians of peace and justice in the galaxy. YOU are the guardians of peace and justice in the galaxy."
"But Hera I can't teach him how to-" She handed him the holocron. He suddenly remembered that it held the answer. He started to go red.
"There Mister I-can't-be-a-jedi.
Now go out and train you'repadawan." She told him with a smile. "Yes master Syndulla" He replied in the monotone perfected by every youngling, used whenever the word bedtime, reared its ugly head.
Kanan Jarrus, jedi knight, former apprentice of Depa Billaba, left his room to find his bored and annoyed padawan.