A/N:So I'm back again, but this time with a full story plot! Feel I should warn you now that I haven't done a story as long as I've got this one planned out for before, so we'll see how it all goes :] Updates should be on Sundays and I'll do my best to keep them.

I do want to say that though this fic draws heavily on the Kanan comics and A New Dawn for backstory, if you haven't read them, don't worry! My divergence goes back pretty far into Kanan's life and I have chapters prepared to explain everything so don't feel daunted if it feels like you're missing a huge chunk of information or that you're missing out, because you're not. Just wanted to put that out there.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 1: Mission Brief

Hera nodded respectfully to Fulcrum now that her Rebellion informant had arrived in this small, forgotten restaurant in the middle of nowhere where Hera had been waiting. It was rare to see the Togruta in person, but on those few occasions Hera did, it was always a pleasure. They were both strong women devoted to a future free of the Empire, and though she loved her crew dearly for all their quirks and courage, the calm conviction Fulcrum brought with her made it feel as if such a future were truly within reach. That the endless missions would one day bear fruit.

Today Fulcrum had another mission for Hera and her Ghost crew. And it was a big one given the Togruta had insisted on coming to meet Hera herself, instead of communicating as they generally did via comms.

"Welcome, Fulcrum. I hope your journey here was safe."

"Greetings, Hera," the Togruta echoed amiably and with a gentle smile as they walked together to an empty booth in the back, away from prying eyes and ears. "My trip here was quiet and uneventful."

"That's good to hear," Hera said as she slipped into her side of the booth as Fulcrum did the same across from her. Immediately a waitress came by and asked for their order, and returned a moment later with their drinks and food before leaving them alone again. "The Empire has been particularly thorough with their checkpoints lately. I know I had a bit of trouble working around them."

"Yes, they've been more of a hassle than usual," agreed the Togruta as she used a utensil to push the food on her plate around to make it appear as if she'd eaten, when it was clear she wouldn't be. "I was a little concerned that we might run into problems attending this meeting, and would need to set up another."

"It was hard enough setting up this one," Hera sighed as she reached for her water. Face-to-face meetings like this were rare and far between, given how much time and care went into planning them. This one had been set up almost a month in advance, and it had been a challenge for Hera to make the meeting at all. But she'd managed. Whatever Fulcrum had to say to her in person must be important if a comm channel wasn't secure enough for the Togruta.

They continued their meal with idle chatter meant to bore or throw anyone off who might be listening in, but Hera sensed Fulcrum was getting around to the meat of the conversation, slowly but surely. It was in a strange way, however. Usually Fulcrum was very sure and prepared about what she planned to say and how she was going to assign a mission, but every time Hera felt sure Fulcrum was about to bring it up, the Togruta would broach another topic. It was strange behavior, and after a while Hera said as much.

"It's unlike you to be so ... cagey," Hera said quietly as she furrowed her brow at Fulcrum. "Is the next assignment that worrisome?"

The Togruta frowned as she swept her finger along the condensation of her glass, looking into it for a long moment before she finally said, "Not exactly. I suspect that it will be merely ... difficult." Fulcrum lifted her blue eyes and held Hera's gaze. "Have you heard in your travels the codenames 'Reaper' and 'Rider'?"

It took all of Hera's control not to let her eyes widen in surprise. The Reaper and the Rider? The mission was about them?

Flashes of memory forced their way to the fore of her mind as if violently summoned, memories of five years ago where she and a rag-tag group had stopped a madman from destroying Gorse and its moon Cynda. Not for the first time did the image of a man with a smug and playful smile and strange blue eyes war with the cool and calculated destruction the gunslinger had left behind him when they'd taken down Count Vidian. Destruction which she'd always silently noticed matched the style of the infamous and elusive Reaper.

Was this mission ... was it about him?

"I've heard rumors," Hera finally said with slow, calculated words as she leaned back in her seat, careful to keep her face blank. "They're a team who went active a few years ago and have been fighting the Empire ever since. Not much is known about them, just that wherever they're reported to have been, the Empire is left devastated ... and anyone who gets in their way is permanently taken care of. As far as I know, no one knows who they are. They're like ghosts."

"Yes, all of that is true. Our analysts believe they have a ninety percent mission success rate, and that they've been pivotal in removing key Imperial players off the board." Fulcrum paused, then added pointedly, "We suspect the Reaper might have been involved five years ago in the removal of an Imperial fixer known as Count Vidian. I believe you were on mission to Gorse at that particular time."

Hera might have known, and she sighed. "You believe I might know who the Reaper is?"

Fulcrum regarded her patiently. "Do you?"

Good question, Hera admitted to herself as she looked out into the activity of the restaurant around them. It was a question she'd been asking herself for a while now. Was the gunslinger the same man the galaxy knew as the Reaper? The Death Reaper? The Soul Collector? The Beheader?

Hera sighed heavily because ... yes. He very well might be, even if she was hesitant to admit it. There weren't many people in the galaxy she knew who made a point of killing Imperials via decapitation when it was possible. She really only knew of one.

"There was a man I met on Gorse who employed similar means as the Reaper," Hera admitted. "It's possible that it could have been him."

The Togruta nodded before she asked, "Could you find him?"

The Twi'lek eyed Fulcrum for a long moment before she slowly guessed, "You want me and my crew to recruit them."

Fulcrum's eyes brightened with approval, and she smiled gently at Hera. "That's correct."

Hera looked away from Fulcrum as she thought about what she was going to say. What should she say?

"I don't know if I'll be able to find him," Hera finally said as her eyes rose to meet the Togruta woman's. "It was five years ago, and we didn't exactly keep in contact. I asked him to join back then, but he told me he worked alone. It's one reason why I've been hesitant to say anything about him. The Reaper works with the Rider. The man I knew didn't strike me as the type to work with anyone."

"He worked with you," Fulcrum pointed out and Hera shrugged.

"It was a strange series of events. The entire time we were taking down Vidian he was trying to find a way to leave. It didn't seem like he wanted to work with me at all, until the Count killed a friend of his."

"And yet, he did work with you. On top of that, what is more surprising is that he didn't kill you after the partnership was over."

Hera's lips thinned as Fulcrum pointed out yet another mystery which had been hanging on her shoulders for the last five years. The Reaper was a professional, and one reason he was still unknown and anonymous was because he was careful and he didn't leave lose ends. He didn't make lose ends.

But it was obvious that to whoever that man had been, Hera was a huge lose end, especially given what she knew about him. What she knew he was capable of.

That he might actually be Jedi.

Another memory surfaced, a tactile memory this time, and she remembered the soft, lingering touch of his fingers as they drifted along her jaw like a promise after she'd offered him a chance to join the Rebellion. Right before he'd turned her down and vanished as if he'd never been there at all, denying the dangerous truth of his heritage as he went.

"This is all speculation," Hera breathed. "The man I met might just as easily not be the Reaper."

"Or he might," Fulcrum countered. "And if he is, perhaps you had more of an impact on him than you think. After all the Reaper only began working with the Rider soon after the events on Gorse. Perhaps you showed him the value of teamwork."

Hera's brow furrowed. Was that true? She'd only been keeping distant tabs on the Reaper and hadn't put together a solid timeline of events. She only knew of his targets and successful missions. Had the Rider appeared after Gorse? And if this was the same man, why had the Reaper turned the Rebellion down if he was going to take on the Empire with a partner anyway?

Why had he turned her down?

"We want you to find both of them, and convince them to join the Rebellion," the Togruta said clearly, leaving no room for misinterpretation. "We need powerful allies if we are to survive the battles to come, and they have proved to be powerful opponents to the Empire. It's time we extend a formal invitation."

Hera wished she felt as confident about this decision as Fulcrum did. Given her parting conversation five years ago with the man who might be the Reaper, she wasn't sure Fulcrum or the Rebellion would get the outcome they wanted. After all, he'd turned her down back then and vanished.

But ... who knew? It had been five years ... maybe his perspective had changed. If he was the Reaper, he wasn't fighting alone anymore like he'd said he would. He had a partner, the enigmatic Rider. Even less information was available about this character. Not gender, not age, no definite skills. All that was known was the story of how the Rider had achieved the codename by riding a bull rancor and using it to assassinate a small hoard of Imperials on Felucia maybe three or four years ago, though the stories varied. The Rider was often seen in the company of the Reaper, on those rare occasions they surfaced, and provided the support needed while the Reaper made his kill.

And when they surfaced, there was always a kill.

"Do we really want individuals with such high death counts in the Rebellion?" Hera found herself asking as she recalled the cold, merciless actions of the gunslinger towards the end of the mission, so different from the wild and reckless actions she'd first seen before the death of his friend. There'd been something uncomfortable about the focus he'd wielded, and the quiet anger which fueled it. It was one thing coming from a regular person, but from someone so powerful? Hera was hesitant. "We're freedom fighters. Not a hoard of killers and assassins."

"I do not sense that these two kill because they enjoy it," Fulcrum countered calmly and with control, as if she'd encountered this argument several times and knew exactly what she was going to say. "Their work indicates a great deal of care and planning. The civilian casualty rate is incredibly low, as is the collateral damage. When they kill, they kill precisely and for a reason, a reason which we have always indirectly benefited from. It might be the case that they are freedom fighters as much as any of us are. After all, how many have you killed in the fight for freedom?"

Hera wisely kept her mouth shut. It wasn't a number she was proud of, even if they'd all been necessary. But that didn't stop her from asking her next question.

"What if you're wrong?"

Fulcrum looked down into her drink as she seemed to drop into herself in thought, staring for a long time as she contemplated the question. After a long moment, her blue eyes rose to give Hera a confident look.

"I have the sense that will not be the case. You may call it intuition, if you like."

That didn't sit well with Hera. "I respect your intuition, Fulcrum, but I need to know what should happen if you are wrong."

"In the event that they do not prove to have goals and values which may align with our own, you may disengage and we will leave them be. Just because they will not work with us does not mean they aren't helping our cause, if only passively and by convenience. We are simply extending an invitation which we believe will be mutually beneficial."

Hera nodded, still uncomfortable before she asked, "And if they choose to attack us instead?"

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that." Fulcrum looked back down at her drink again. "But if your mission does not succeed, do everything you can to lose them. And if you cannot ... then terminate them. They may be useful to the cause, but we can't afford to lose one of our best pilots, or your crew." She looked up, and Hera was surprised to see a strange, knowing smile there.

"What is it?"

"I just believe such extreme measures will not need to be taken," the Togruta replied simply. "I believe you and your crew can convince them to fight for the Rebellion. You are the correct choice."

"Well, we'll see about that," Hera said with a sigh. She'd known Fulcrum for a while now, and knew the Togruta had these hunches from time to time, which were usually spot on. Sometimes it made the Twi'lek wonder. The gunslinger had been like that, prone to impossible flashes of insight which could only be explained by the Force. Sometimes ... Hera wondered.

But she never said anything. If Fulcrum was, then she was. If not, then it didn't matter.

It wasn't to say that Hera didn't pay particular care to the Togruta woman's hunches though. Even if they were eerily accurate and often uncomfortable.

"What sort of time frame are we looking at?" the Twi'lek asked after a moment, and Fulcrum frowned in response.

"There are many who wish you to complete this mission as soon as possible. Within a couple of days of tracking them down," Fulcrum admitted, and Hera's stomach dropped. Days? She hadn't seen the man who might be the Reaper in five years, but she knew instinctively that a handful of days wouldn't be near enough time to complete the objective. She was about to voice her concerns when the Togruta held up a hand to stop her.

"I do not think that such a tight timetable is wise with these two. They've been working successfully and secretly for years now, and it does not appear they trust anyone other than each other. Getting them to trust you, and then trust the greater Rebellion is going to take time, perhaps a lot of it. I sense that if we want the Reaper and the Rider to become true allies, this mission will have to be a long-term operation. You will have as much time as you need to complete this mission. At least until we cannot wait any longer."

Relief slipped through the Twi'lek as she leaned back in her seat, arm along the top of the booth as she thought. Good. That was good. She and the crew would need as much time as they could get. But how was she going to do it? How were they going to convince the Reaper and the Rider to join the Rebellion? Carefully and slowly was the most obvious answer, but that didn't answer the finer how. Before she could get too drawn into thoughts and planning, Fulcrum caught her attention as she leaned forward, something small concealed in her hand.

"This contains the details for the mission, and all the intel we have been able to collect concerning the vigilante pair." Discretely Fulcrum slipped a data card to Hera, and the Twi'lek just as discretely swept it up and into a hidden pocket of her flight suit. "In it you will find not only what records we have been able to collect, but also a few images of them as well, though I will warn you they aren't of decent quality. But they might be able to aid you in your search."

"Given how elusive these two are, any little bit helps," Hera admitted with a sigh, trying to think back to Gorse and the man she'd met there. It was an old memory, one she frequented more than she really should, but Hera was confident that so long as nothing drastic had happened to that man, she could pick him out of a lineup. Even if brown hair and blue eyes were fairly common features in the galaxy, that man was distinctive in a way which wasn't just skin deep.

Still, the galaxy was a big place. As she'd told Fulcrum, any little bit helped.

They finished their meal in companionable discussion, carefully drifting from the topic of the Reaper and Rider to more mundane things, to throw anyone listening in now off their trail. It wasn't long, however, until they'd paid for their meals and exited the establishment, preparing to head off on their own ways. Already Hera's mind was starting to drift, wondering what her first move would be, once she had some time to sit down with Fulcrum's data. She contemplated a trip to Gorse if the Imperial presence there wasn't too bad, but was once again drawn from her plans when Fulcrum caught her attention.

"Hera," Fulcrum said softly as they were about to part, and the Twi'lek stopped to look curiously at the other woman. "Just be careful. It's possible at least one of them is ... special. He might be able to do things you won't expect or can't explain by normal means."

Hera kept her features smooth as she let her eyes speak for her. She knew exactly what Fulcrum was trying to tell her, and all she could do was nod in response. The Togruta suspected one of the vigilante pair was a Force-user, and that he might try to use the Force on her or her crew.

And she knew which of the two it was.

The Togruta nodded in response as she pulled her hood deep over her face and turned, and that was that. The meeting was over and Hera turned and left without looking back. It wasn't safe to linger, and Sabine would be on her relentlessly if she missed her check-in.

After making the check-in, Hera took a long and winding path back to the hanger the Ghost was waiting in to ensure she wasn't being followed, and was pleased to see Chopper and AP-5 waiting for her by the ramp. Immediately the astromech informed Hera that both the Ghost and the Phantom were ready for flight whenever she was. AP-5 told her that they were stocked on all supplies she'd requested, though he'd had difficulty locating an adequate supply of transistors and would have to find more soon.

"Thanks guys," she said as she swept in, closing the ramp behind them as she headed to the cockpit, slipping into her seat with practiced ease which bespoke years of comfort and dedication to the chair and her profession. As she began flicking switches and pressing buttons, enticing her baby to wake up, she saw the other two members of her crew come in for news.

"So, what did Fulcrum say?" Sabine asked curiously from the copilot's seat as Hera manipulated the controls to take the Ghost out of the atmosphere and into space, already plotting a course into hyperspace. "What sort of mission are we on this time?"

"I hope it's a supply raid," Zeb voiced from where he leaned against the wall, watching as the Ghost lifted from the hanger, smooth as silk. "I'm starting to get antsy. I haven't smashed a couple of bucket heads in a while."

"It's only been two days," Sabine pointed out, and the Lasat shrugged as if that was the obvious answer.

"Right. Too long."

"It's not a supply raid," Hera said as they slipped from the atmosphere into the ease of space. "It's actually a recruitment mission. Fulcrum wants us to find and convince a pair of vigilantes to join, and we've been given an extended amount of time to do it. I think we're going to need it, if you ask me."

"Who are we recruiting?" the teenaged Mandalorian asked. "Smugglers? Bounty Hunters?"

"Either would be easier," Hera muttered with a side-long look before she aligned the Ghost for the jump into hyperspace. "We're recruiting the Reaper and the Rider."

Just as they made the jump and the viewport swam with blue and white light, she turned just in time to catch both Sabine and Zeb as they stared at her open mouthed and flabbergast in shock.

Hera chuckled to herself. Well, at least she wasn't the only one.