Disclaimer: I don't own anything Star Wars.

Dedicated to Kanan Jarrus. May you forever rest in peace within the Force.

This story is co-written with MaybeImARebel

A/N: This is an A.U. story that gives our favourite Ghost crew a somewhat happier beginning. Things to note: Kanan is 3 years older than canon so he fights the entirety of the Clone Wars with his Master. Hera is also older than her canon age so that Kanan isn't way too old for her. Ezra will now be a year older than Sabine to make that relationship a little easier to write.

There's an explanation of how the calendar works in 'Flame of Hope' if you're curious.

Oh, I'm Attached All Right

The Survivors:

D323/22 BBY, Ryloth

Just tuned fourteen year old Padawan, Caleb Dume, and his Master, Depa Billaba, were in charge of the relief supply mission for the battle torn Ryloth. The war was over on Ryloth. The twi'lek Cham Syndulla and his resistance fighters, as well as Masters Windu, Kenobi, and Skywalker had won the planet back from the Separatist Occupation, but at great cost to the planet itself. The twi'leks were starving. Much of their food had been pillaged by the Separatists and most of the crops either destroyed by the war or neglected due to the lack of people left to attend them.

They met with Cham Syndulla at his impressive home in the Tann province. The imposing orange twi'lek loomed over Caleb as he greeted them with a serious face. "Thank you for coming, Master Billaba. Your assistance is greatly appreciated," Syndulla said as he bowed slightly to Caleb's Master.

Depa smiled. "You are most welcome, General Syndulla. Allow me to introduce my Padawan, Caleb Dume."

Caleb stepped forward bravely, and bowed slightly more than Syndulla had, showing more respect to the older, more experienced man. "It is nice to meet you, General."

Syndulla nodded in acknowledgement. "Welcome, young Jedi." He gestured them into the main foyer of the mansion built inside the mountain. "Please, come in. Can I offer you some refreshments? Caf?"

Depa politely refused, knowing resources were tight for them right now. "We are fine, thank you."

Caleb's eyes were drawn to movement from down a hallway, followed by an echoing voice shouting "C1-10P! Get back here! I wasn't done with you!"

A beat up looking astromech with seared orange and yellow paint on his dome came zooming into the room, beeping frantically about not wanting a new paint job. He liked his old paint, thank you very much. The droid tried to hide behind Syndulla, but the girl that came marching into the room wasn't buying it. "Chopper! You are going to get new paint whether you like it or not. Now stop hiding behind father before I..." the light green twi'lek girl came to a sudden stop as she realized there were more people in the room. Her eyes darted from Caleb to Depa and then back to Caleb, before she blushed darker and looked at the ground. "I'm sorry, Father. I didn't know we had guests," she said quietly in a heavy Ryl accent. Interesting, since she'd barely had any accent at all when she was yelling at the astromech.

Syndulla almost cracked a smile. "It is alright, Daughter. Come. Meet our guests. These are the Jedi with more supplies for our people. Master Depa Billaba and her Padawan, Caleb Dume." Syndulla glanced at his guests before gesturing to his daughter. "And this is my daughter, Hera. She is all I have left." Caleb could see and sense the pride the man had in his daughter.

The girl walked up to them, no longer embarrassed. She met the eyes of the woman with the braids and they exchanged smiles of greeting. "Hello. It is nice to meet you." Then she looked Caleb right in the eyes, a warm smile reflected in her own. "Hello to you too. Welcome to our home."

Caleb blinked, and had to consciously remind himself to keep his mouth closed, for she was the prettiest girl he'd ever seen. He actually felt his heart pick up speed and his palms get sweaty. Her eyes were the most perfect shade of emerald green, and her skin was literally his favourite color in the galaxy. And her voice. Her. Voice. It gave him chills, it was so perfect. Either with or without the accent, which seemed to come and go at will. Caleb gulped, and tried frantically to remember how to speak. "H..Hi," he finally managed, then mentally smacked himself. Smooth, Dume. Real smooth.

The girl just smiled a little wider, corralled her protesting droid, and pushed it out of the room. "Nice to meet you," she called as she left. Caleb could hear her chastising the droid all the way down the hallway. "Now look what you did, Chopper, embarrassing me in front of Father and his guests. We really need to work on your manners." Her voice even sounded angelic when she was scolding a droid and fading away. Caleb wanted her to come back. He wanted to hear her talk some more. He wanted to look at her some more. He just flat out wanted. And his feelings scared and confused him. For he'd never felt like this before.

Caleb startled out of his trance when Master Depa sent a quick burst of disapproval down their bond. He glanced over at her, ashamed. Right. Jedi don't have feelings like that. Caleb breathed deeply as they followed Syndulla deeper into the house. Centering himself again. With one last thought of longing for what would never be, Caleb put the twi'lek girl out of his mind. At least for now.

Later, after delivering the supplies to the towns and villages that needed them the most, General Syndulla departed their ship with one last sentence. "If either of you ever need anything, my home is always open to the Jedi." With a final bow of farewell, the large twi'lek male took his leave, and headed back to his home.

Depa glanced at her padawan, seated beside her in the co-pilot chair, as she flew the ship through the atmosphere and up into space. "Do we need to talk about all the feelings that were taking over you earlier?"

Caleb shook his head emphatically, making his short braid swing. "Nope. No. I'm good. I got it under control. Sorry Master. I was just surprised, that's all. I promise it won't happen again."

Depa raised a brow, a hint of humour running down the bond. "I'm sure."

Caleb sunk in his chair just a little. Losing control of his emotions was not a good way to impress his relatively new Master. How embarrassing.

That night, as Caleb was drifting off to sleep, an image of the girl appeared in his mind again. A small smile formed on his lips. He might not ever see her again, and he might not be allowed to actually feel anything about her, but he still considered her to be the best birthday present he'd ever received. For what teenage boy didn't like to have something nice to dream about?

Back on Ryloth, a twelve year old twi'lek girl flopped on her bed and hugged her pillow to her chest and sighed, dreamily staring at her ceiling without actually seeing it. In her mind, all she saw was the totally hot human boy she'd met that day. And not just any boy. A Jedi boy. She mouthed his name to herself. 'Caleb Dume.' What a great name. His teal green eyes were the first thing she'd noticed. How they seemed to see all the way into her soul. He had short reddish brown hair with a little braid hanging behind his right ear. And he'd been tall too. For a boy. Just as tall as his Master. And a hair taller than her. Which wasn't easy to do. Since she felt freakishly tall for a girl. She blamed her father for that. She certainly hadn't gotten her height from her mother. Hera had to cut off that line of thought or she'd start crying again. Her mother was gone. Lost in the war a few months ago. Hera focused on the image of the boy in her mind. He was so much better to think about. Hera sighed again. "Caleb."

Chopper beeped inquiringly. Hera turned her head and looked at him, with his brand new, painstaking orange and yellow paint job that had taken her hours to do. She'd actually had to turn him off to get it done. "It's nothing, Chopper. Just a boy. You wouldn't understand."

Chopper beeped back, "This young organic?" before showing a holo image of Caleb that he must have recorded in the minute they'd been in the same room.

Hera gasped and jumped off the bed, tossing her pillow aside. "Chopper!" She hugged the droid. "Oh Chop, you're the best droid ever! Don't ever erase that image. Please."

Chopper beeped, "Okay."

Hera hugged him one more time. She got up and slipped under the covers on her bed, putting her pillow back where it belonged, before curling up on her side facing Chopper. "Can you leave that image on for me until I go to sleep, Chop?"

Chopper beeped again. Hera smiled at him as her eyes drunk in the image of Caleb Dume, Jedi superhero.

D365/20 BBY, Kaller

Depa woke on a gasp. The Force was screaming at her. Caleb's nearly overwhelming fear making her choke as it flooded their bond. Depa struggled out of her sleeping bag, calling her lightsabre into her hand and igniting the green blade as she surged out of her tent. Her eyes widened in horror as she emerged to find her entire Battalion of Clones pointing their blasters at her and Caleb, who had already emerged from his tent, with blue sabre held at the ready. "Why?" she asked Commander Grey.

Grey looked back at her with emotionless eyes. In fact, every single one of her comrades in arms were looking at them with emotionless eyes. "Because you are a traitor. You must die. All Jedi must die."

Without any further warning, hundreds of blasters fired at Caleb and Depa, their lightsabres not able to deflect all of the shots, even though they tried. The lightsabres were almost a blur, as they fought for their lives, but the clone troopers just kept shooting. Hundreds of them. Against two. They never stood a chance. Depa cried when Caleb fell to the ground, dead from a bolt to the head that had made it past his defences. Her moment of inattention was enough. A bolt made it past her lightsabre and hit her in the chest. As she fell, her last sight was of her beloved Padawan's sightless teal eyes.

Depa woke on a gasp, tears streaming down her face. "Caleb," she whispered. She sent a warning down the bond, which she felt him acknowledge. Grabbing a bag with the most important thing she owned in it, she slipped out of her tent as quietly as possible, lightsabre in hand.

Caleb emerged from his tent, lightsabre ready, eyes wide with curiosity. Depa thrust the bag at him. "Take this and run. Run, Caleb. Now. I'll be right behind you."

Caleb looked at his Master, her face deadly serious. "But why?"

Depa narrowed her eyes at him. "It doesn't matter." She shoved him in the direction of the hill. "Go!"

So Caleb ran, all the way to the top of the hill, but he came to a stop when he heard blaster fire. Lots of it. He looked back and saw the entire battalion of clones, including his friends Grey and Styles, shooting at his Master. Her green lightsabre was a blur as she stood between them and Caleb. Caleb lost his ability to breathe as he saw her fight off the entire battalion. "Master!" he screamed, and started running back down the hill.

He'd only taken two steps when he heard her in his head and felt an almost overwhelming urge to do as ordered. "RUN, CALEB!" He came to a halt again. She'd never actually said words in his head before, and she'd paired it with the strongest burst of persuasion she could muster. It was enough to make him obey against his instincts.

As he topped the hill again, he looked back one more time only to see his Master fall, shot hundreds of times as her sabre fell from her hand.

As one, the clones looked up at Caleb silhouetted in the night sky by the moon behind him. "Get the traitor!" yelled Commander Grey. Caleb turned and ran for his life towards Plateau City, glowing in the distance, igniting his lightsabre and blocking the shots that came too close as he ran. He didn't even look back, letting the Force direct his arm and give wings to his feet, eyes too full of tears to be able to see much anyway.

Finally reaching the edge of the city, Caleb slunk into the nearest dark alley and lost himself in the maze of narrow streets. His first instinct was to head for the spaceport, but he knew that was the first place the clone troopers would look for him. So for now, he'd stay in the city, hiding. He stole new clothes and food to survive, hiding under a hooded cloak and pretending to be an old man. When he found a decent place to hole up in an abandoned building, the numbness that had sunk in wore off. He collapsed to the floor in a corner and curled into himself, tears streaming down his face as his shoulders shook with the sobs he was holding in.

After a while, he wiped the tears off his face and sniffed pathetically. Pulling the bag off his belt, the one Depa had given him, he opened it and pulled out the object he already knew was in there. Caleb glared at the holocron in his hand. "Why?" he demanded from it. "Why did she make me run? Why did the clones turn on us? They called me a traitor, but I know I'm not. I serve the Republic, just like they do. Don't they?" When the holocron did nothing, not even bothering to open, Caleb lost it. He threw the precious cube across the room, and watched with satisfaction as it bounced off the wall and disappeared into a corner.

Only a minute later, he regretted his rash actions. Jumping to his feet, he retrieved the holocron and cradled it to his chest, relieved that it didn't seem broken. This was the last thing his Master had given him. And it was important to her. He'd take care of it forever. Caleb sank back to the floor, holding the holocron like a life line, as the tears started again. "Why?" he whispered to the Force.

1 day later, Ryloth

Cham and Hera sat in stunned silence for endless minutes after watching the breaking news bulletin. It was beyond unbelievable. And Hera said so, with arms crossed and a set chin. "I'm not buying it. The Jedi would never betray the Republic. They were good people."

Cham put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I agree. I think we're being fed a load of bantha poodoo. The timing is just too convenient. The Jedi are executed for treason and the Emperor suddenly takes over, changing the political system from a Galactic Republic to a Galactic Empire, all in the space of a couple of days? Definitely something wrong with this picture."

Hera huffed. "How can they get away with it? Doesn't anyone else see this is wrong?"

Her father sighed at the injustice. "I think not. People are willingly blind to what is happening around them. They just want to live the easiest way possible. Not the right way."

"Well I'm never going to live like that, with my head buried in the sand," Hera vowed. "I'm going to fight for what is right. Always." With that, Hera marched out of the room, lekku stiff with determination. Cham watched his daughter with pride and worry. What kind of trouble was she going to get into, with that kind of spirit?

Hera went to her room, with Chopper following behind her. She closed the door and sank onto her bed, dejected. "Please turn on the image, Chop."

Chopper beeped, and the holo image of Caleb Dume appeared, not even needing to clarify which image she meant.

A tear ran down Hera's cheek, which she quickly wiped away. She looked at it for a moment, then turned her head away. "Delete it, Chopper. He's gone. There's no point keeping it."

Chopper beeped, "Are you sure?"

Hera lay down on her side and curled up, facing away from Chopper. "Yes. I'm sure."

D3/19 BBY, Kaller

Caleb left his temporary shelter for hopefully the last time. It had been more than three days since he had reluctantly run for his life. He was hoping the clones would have given up their search for him by now. Keeping to the shadows as much as possible, he made for the spaceport. He had to get off this planet. He had to get home to Coruscant. Hopefully he could get answers there. Someone had to know why the clones had called him a traitor. Even if they didn't, the Jedi Council would be able to look into the matter.

The streets were quiet in the early hours of the morning. No one was awake to see the shadow silently move through streets and back alleys. Caleb arrived at the wall that surrounded the spaceport. Not wanting to go through the main gate, which he was sure had video surveillance, he leapt for the top of the wall. Landing lightly on the top in a crouch, he quickly swept the area. Not seeing anyone, he jumped down, landing silently. Now to find a suitable ship to stow away on.

Caleb didn't even bother looking at the public transport ships. There would never be a place to hide in those, and they usually had some sort of video surveillance as well. He needed a private ship. Preferably something not Kalleran made since there was a better chance of it actually leaving the system. Not finding exactly what he was looking for, he settled on the next best thing. A red and black painted Kalleran freighter. Freighters usually carried goods. Hopefully this one also left the system. Caleb stopped by the closed entrance to the KST-100. He sent his Force senses towards the ship. Not sensing anyone inside, he held out his hand towards the door, and concentrated on unlocking it and making it open. The door popped open with a quiet hiss, and Caleb's lips twitched into a temporary smile.

Caleb entered, and closed the door behind him with a wave of his hand. Now to find a place to hide. He wandered the ship for a few minutes, getting a mental map of it. He grabbed a couple days worth of pre-packaged rations from a large stash in the galley, hit the refresher for a quick shower, then tossed his bag into a vent. It was a tight squeeze, but Caleb got his body into the opening. At least the duct work was bigger than the entrance. Caleb crawled through the ducts until he was fairly certain he was in a location where he wouldn't be easily heard, and at an intersection, so he had more space.

Getting as comfortable as possible, Caleb settled in to wait. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on his breathing and cleared his mind. Meditation would help him pass the time and help him deal with the loss of his Master.

Caleb dreamed he was flying through hyperspace. He sat in the co-pilot's chair, hands behind his head, feet on the dash, not a care in the world. A droid beeped behind him. Caleb turned his head to see what the droid wanted, but his eyes stopped at the beautiful light green twi'lek girl in the pilot's chair, eyes intent on a datapad. Caleb smiled. "Hera, Chopper's asking you a question."

The twi'lek lifted her eyes to meet his and grinned mischievously. "I know, Kanan. I'm ignoring him right now. He didn't fix the ship's comms like I asked him to."

Caleb laughed while Chopper beeped disgustedly and stormed out of the bridge, cursing in binary the whole way. Caleb got up. "I'm going to get some caf. You want me to bring some back for you, darling?"

Hera nodded, smiling. "Thank you, love."

Caleb placed a kiss on top of her head, before leaving the bridge.

Caleb woke with a smile. He loved when he dreamed of Hera. She was soooo much better than the nightmare of his Master's death that he'd been having for the last couple of nights. He wished he'd get more Hera dreams, but they only showed up a few times a month. This was a new one too, and it had felt so real. Caleb ran through the dream again in his mind, pausing on the image of Hera. She was older in this one. Maybe eighteen. She just got more beautiful with age, her face a little less round and her cheekbones more pronounced. Then his brows furrowed in confusion. Did Hera call him Kanan? Caleb's heart sank. Maybe she wasn't talking to him at all. Maybe he was dreaming of Hera with another guy. Now that sucked. Big time. Caleb forced himself to put Hera out of his mind. It was stupid of him to dream of her anyway considering what he was. Jedi weren't allowed to form attachments.

He wasn't sure what would happen to him now that his Master was gone, but maybe one of the other Jedi Masters who didn't have a padawan would be willing to take him on. It wasn't an ideal situation. He'd already had a very strong bond with his Master. It was very unlikely he'd form a bond with another one. And he was a little old to start a new partnership, being sixteen. Hopefully someone would be willing to continue his training anyway. Caleb sighed forlornly. He missed Depa. They'd been together for three incredibly intense years, fighting the war against the Separatists for the most part. Talk about on the job training. Most padawans stayed with their Masters into their late teens or sometimes even their early twenties before taking the test to be a Jedi Knight and go off on their own. Caleb didn't feel like he was anywhere near ready to be on his own.

He was startled from his musings when he heard the door of the ship open. Footsteps echoed through the hallway, heading for the bridge. The engines started, rumbling through the framework of the ship as they warmed up. The footsteps came back down the hallway, pausing in the galley. Suddenly, there was a pounding on the door of the ship. Caleb heard a muffled voice yell, "Open up! In the name of the Emperor!" Wait. What Emperor? There was no Emperor of the Galaxy. At least there wasn't a few days ago.

The footsteps stomped towards the door and he heard the door open again. "What do you want?" a grumpy voice said in Basic with a Kalleran accent.

"We're searching all ships leaving the city for a fugitive Jedi." Caleb muffled a gasp with his hand. He was pretty sure that was Styles' voice. It was hard to be one hundred percent sure, because the clones all tended to sound the same, but he'd been fighting side by side with Styles for so long, he could pick out the subtle differences in his tone compared to the others.

The grumpy voiced man hummphed. "There's no one on my ship but myself, but you can look if you want." Footsteps of at least three people walked through the ship, searching every room. "What's this Jedi done, anyway?" grumpy voice asked.

"He is believed to be an accomplice in an effort by the Jedi to assassinate the Emperor. All the Jedi have been, or are being, executed for treason, as we find them," said Styles emotionlessly. Caleb had to suppress a gasp. ALL of the Jedi? All of his friends and all the Masters were dead?

"Surely not all of the Jedi are guilty?" said grumpy voice. "Aren't there thousands of them?"

"I don't know," said Styles. "I'm just following orders."

Grumpy voice grunted and continued to follow the clones around his ship. When the extra footsteps left, he closed the door. "Poor Jedi, they don't deserve that," grumpy voice muttered. "The ones I met didn't seem that bad." His footsteps made their way back to the bridge. Caleb felt the ship lift off the ground. A few minutes later, it jumped into hyperspace. Caleb sighed in sad relief. He was off the planet at least. Force knows where they were going, but it didn't matter anymore. From the sound of things, he had no one to go home to. He was on his own. Caleb wiped the tears off his cheeks. This couldn't be happening. And yet it was. A waking nightmare that would never end. Caleb extracted the holocron from his bag and hugged it to his chest, quietly crying himself back to sleep.

Caleb woke hours later, in desperate need of a trip to the refresher. Hearing no sounds coming from the ship, he hoped the pilot was asleep. Crawling silently, he found the vent that opened into the refresher.

As he was crawling back into the vent, he heard a voice. Master Kenobi's voice. Oh kriff. The pilot was bound to hear that. He scrambled as fast as he could towards his stuff, listening to Master Kenobi, who must have taken his suggestion about using the Temple Recall signal as a warning instead of a call home. "This is Master Obi Wan Kenobi. I regret to report that both our Jedi Order and the Republic have fallen with the dark shadow of the Empire rising to take their place. This message is a warning, and a reminder for any surviving Jedi. Trust in the Force. Do not return to the Temple. That time has passed, and our future is uncertain. We will each be challenged. Our trust. Our faith. Our friendships. But we must persevere, and in time a new hope will emerge. May the Force be with you. Always."

Unfortunately, that just confirmed what Styles had said earlier. Caleb was heartbroken again, but didn't have time to think about it, because grumpy voice was awake. "All right, Jedi. I know you're in there. Come out, before I shoot you out."

Caleb sighed. His life just got crazier every day. Concentrating for a moment, he turned the glowing blue holocron back off. Then he quickly packed up the small mess he had made into his bag, before crawling back towards the nearest vent. No point travelling through the ducts any longer than necessary.

He walked down the hallway and was quickly met by a tall Kalleran male, holding a blaster pointed at him. Caleb raised his hands in surrender. He didn't want to fight him. He didn't have the heart for it.

The Kalleran looked him up and down, then raised a brow in surprise. "You're just a boy. Something tells me you had nothing to do with the attempt on the new Emperor's life."

Caleb kind of shrugged. "I don't know anything about it. I didn't even know there was an Emperor. I've been hiding for days, ever since my friends turned on us and killed my Master."

The Kalleran holstered his blaster. "I believe you. I don't know what I'm supposed to do with you. But I believe you."

Caleb lowered his hands. "Please don't turn me in. I can help you, if you need a crew. I have nothing to go home to and no place to go."

The Kalleran chuckled. "I don't think you want to join me. I'm a smuggler. A little below your Jedi principles I think."

Caleb thought about it for a moment. What did Jedi principles and teachings matter, if all the Jedi were gone? He looked at the Kalleran. "The Jedi are dead. Everything I believed in is dead. I have to do something with my life. Being a smuggler at least sounds interesting. I'll work for free, except for some food and a place to sleep. And I'm good in a fight." Caleb smiled hopefully.

The Kalleran laughed. He walked over and clapped Caleb on the back, making him stumble forward a step. "I like you, kid. Welcome to my ship, the Kasmiri. I'm Janus Kasmir, but you can call me Kasmir or boss."

Caleb smiled happily. "Thank you, Kasmir. I'm Ca..."

Kasmir cut him off with a shake of his head. "No, you're not. I don't want to know your old name. You need to think of a new name. And until you do, I'll call you Kid."

Caleb blinked. He was right. Caleb Dume was a fugitive. He couldn't go by that name anymore. But he didn't want to be called Kid either. "Really? Kid? I'm not that young. I'm sixteen!"

The green skinned alien grinned, showing a lot of sharp teeth. "Kid, when you've reached my age, sixteen is definitely in the category of young." Kasmir pulled on Caleb's braid. "This has to go too. It's a dead giveaway."

Caleb reached up and fingered his padawan braid. He'd forgotten about that. It was such a part of him, he didn't even feel it anymore. When he felt more tears try to start, he turned his face away and furiously wiped them away. He needed to grow up and get over it. His old life was over. He looked back at Kasmir, who looked at him knowingly with a sympathetic look in his eyes. "Do you have a knife?"

Kasmir pulled a folding knife out of a pocket and handed it to him. Caleb opened it, and grasping his braid, he sliced it off at the hairline. His head felt funny in that spot, like he'd just amputated an arm. Caleb handed the blade back to Kasmir and straightened his shoulders in determination. He held the braid he'd been growing for three years tightly in his fist for a moment, then held it out to Kasmir. "You got a place I can throw this out?"

Kasmir smiled. "How about out the air lock? We can give your old life a proper Spacers burial."

Caleb nodded. "I'd like that. Thank you."

D25/19 BBY, Lothal

The Kasmiri came out of hyperspace in front of a pretty light green and blue planet, having a nice mix of continents and oceans. Caleb looked at the planet curiously. He'd been to a lot of planets with his Master, fighting the Clone Wars, but never to this one. "Where are we?" he asked Kasmir.

Kasmir grinned as he flew the ship down through the atmosphere. "This is Lothal, Kid. A nice little backwater planet that grows some very nice produce that the desert planets are always eager to purchase. I have a few friends here too, that call this planet home."

Caleb gawked at the seemingly endless continent of grass intermixed with strange little round mountains that they were flying over. He'd never seen anything like those before. They flew past a nice little city and kept going, finally landing near a tiny settlement surrounded by more grass. Kasmir stood. "Come on, Kid. You're about to eat some of the best grub this side of the Mid Rim you can find."

Caleb dutifully followed the Kalleran off the ship and through the haphazard buildings. They walked into a bar full of people and species of many descriptions. Kasmir parked himself at the bar, waiting to get the attention of the ithorian bartender. Kasmir smiled in greeting when he came over. "Jho! How's it been?"

It was hard to tell if he smiled back, but Jho said, "Good, good. Been pretty quiet lately," through his translator. "And how are you, my old friend? And who is this?"

Kasmir chuckled. "I'm good. Things have been pretty interesting. I picked up a new crew member. Jho, this is Kid. Kid this is Jho."

Caleb rolled his eyes. "It's nice to meet you, Jho, but my name's not Kid. It's Ca..." Opps. Caleb frantically scrambled to fix it, and spit out the first thing that came to mind. "Kanan. Yep. It's Kanan."

Kasmir smacked him in the back and guffawed. "Good save there, Ka Kanan."

Caleb flushed, as Kasmir and Jho laughed at him. "Whatever. It's better than Kid."

As Kasmir and Jho continued to talk, reminiscing about old times and smuggling routes, Caleb turned his back to the bar and absently watched the other people. They were eating, drinking, laughing, playing cards and holo games. A little oasis of drifters with no worries on their minds at this very moment. As Caleb let his mind wander, he came to a sudden realization. His name was now Kanan. Forever. Caleb was officially no more. This was going to take some getting used to. 'My name is Kanan. My name is Kanan,' he chanted to himself over and over. Then his eyes widened again as he had another thought. What if the Kanan Hera was talking to in his dream was actually him? Did that mean he was going to see her again? Have a real relationship with her? They sure seemed like a couple in the dream. Caleb's heart sped up at the thought. There was nothing to stop him from having feelings for her anymore. No disapproving Masters or stern Jedi Councils. His old way of life was dead. Holy kriff. He was going to have a girlfriend! Hopefully. He didn't know when, but someday in the future, he was going to find Hera again. His eyes narrowed in determination. He'd make sure of it.

Kasmir nudged him out of his thoughts with an elbow. He was holding a couple plates of delicious smelling food. "Come on there, Ka Kanan. Let's go eat."

Caleb groaned and grabbed his plate, wondering how long Kasmir was going to tease him about that. He followed Kasmir to a table that already had a few other people at it. They looked up at their approach. The one with the horns, one of them broken, broke out into a grin and jumped up to give Kasmir a manly half hug. "Kasmir! It's been too long! Where have you been, you old mooka?"

Kasmir set his plate down before it got spilled and pulled his friend into a proper back slapping hug. "Just wandering the Galaxy, Visago. Staying out of trouble. Picking up stray puppies. You know. The usual."

Visago laughed and sat back down, gesturing for them to join his table. He raised a brow at Caleb. "I take it you're the stray puppy?"

Caleb nodded, picking up his fork. "That's me. Name's Kanan. Kasmir helped me out of a rough spot, and now I'm working for him. For free."

Visago snorted. "Typical. Not that you'd find a better deal anywhere else. At least you got food to eat."

Caleb shovelled in a bite of whatever unknown substance was on his plate, then blinked in surprise. That was really good, whatever it was. He attacked his food. This beat ration packs and protein bars by a lightyear. Neither he nor Kasmir were particularly good cooks. Maybe he should learn, if this is what real food could taste like. It had been a long time since he'd eaten good food. Travelling from planet to planet, fighting one battle after another, and camping out in the open more often than not hadn't exactly provided for proper meals either, as he fought with his Master. Caleb concentrated on his food while Kasmir and Visago talked, their conversation about things he had no knowledge of not being of much interest to him. Instead, he started to imagine what life would be like with Hera and how soon he could possibly go find her again. Hopefully his dreams weren't lying to him about her liking him. That would really suck if she didn't and he'd based his whole new future on a false hope.

After lunch, they flew back to the city they had passed, picking up crates and crates of fresh fruit, filling the cargo hold to the brim, before taking off again through hyperspace towards the desert planet of Tattoine, where Kasmir would sell his fruit for a tidy profit under the nose of the Hutt who lived there and liked to think he had a monopoly on the import business.

While Caleb was in the refresher the next morning, he picked up his razor to shave off his stubble, then took a long hard look at himself in the mirror. If he was going to have a new name, maybe he should have a new look as well. As he was shaving, he left the stubble on his chin alone. He was going to try growing a goatee and let his hair grow out. So far, they hadn't gone anywhere he might run into someone who knew him, but you never know when that might change. It was time to look different too.

The metamorphosis from Caleb to Kanan had begun.

D83/19 BBY, Ryloth

Hera and her father were shopping in Lessu, the capital city of Ryloth. Over the last three years, the city had slowly recovered from the war. Almost all of the merchants had opened their shops again. Destroyed buildings had been cleaned up and new buildings lined the streets. The feeling in the city was one of tentative hope that things were finally going to get better.

Hera was in a spare parts store, looking for a replacement part for one of the many downed fighters she was trying to repair. If she could get this one flying again, she could practice some more. Hera loved to fly. She felt free when she was in the sky, away from all the trials of her past. And to have a real fighter to fly would be a dream come true. Flying shuttles and freighters just wasn't enough. She wanted more. She wanted to go faster. She wanted more manoeuvrability. She just knew she could handle a fighter.

Chopper beeped from the next row over. "I found it!"

Hera dashed around and grabbed the part off the shelf. "Chopper, you're the best!"

He purred happily when she patted him on the dome. Hera took the part to the counter and paid for it. Just as she was walking out the door, she heard a commotion from outside. Everyone was looking towards the end of the street, so Hera did too, and gasped in dismay. A battalion of white clad troopers marched towards her, followed by a dozen armoured ground transports. A voice was playing over a loudspeaker from one of the transports. "This planet is now under Imperial control. Resistance will not be tolerated. This planet is now under Imperial control. Resistance will not be tolerated." The message repeated over and over as the parade marched past her.

Cham appeared at his daughter's side, carrying an armful of packages. He narrowed his eyes and growled deep in his chest at the Imperial army. "This is unbelievable. We just won our planet back from the Separatists and now these Imperial blurrg droppings think they can just march in and take over? Not while I'm still alive." Cham glanced down at his daughter, who looked ready to go beat them up single handed, her hands in fists and eyes spitting fire. He shifted things around and put a hand on her shoulder. "Easy, Hera. We can't fight them like this. We need to get the Resistance Fighters back together. This is going to take some planning."

Hera looked up at her father, then back down the street at the back of the parade. "I hate them! They killed the Jedi, and now they're stealing our planet."

Cham sighed. "I know, Hera. We'll fight them. I promise. First, we must prepare."

D360/19 BBY, Ryloth

The fighter came out of nowhere, attacking the Imperial convoy with precision. Each well placed shot took out the guns on the tops of the transports. As the fighter circled around for a second pass, it shot the walls of the canyon in front of the first transport, causing all four of them to come to a screeching halt or run into the rocks and rubble. Hera called on the comm. "Stage one complete, Freedom One. You're good to go."

"Good job, Freedom Two. I'll see you at home." Cham watched the fighter fly away for a moment with pride shining in his eyes, before turning his attention to the transports below him. He nudged his blurrg and yelled, "Attack!" Dozens of blurrgs jumped over the edge of the cliff and stampeded towards the Imperial convoy.

Troopers leapt out of the transports, firing on the blurrgs and their twi'lek riders. Cham and his resistance fighters fired back, with much better aim. Cham charged his blurrg all the way up to the first transport, bulldozing over a trooper on the way. He leapt off and jumped into the transport, blaster ready. The driver tried to fire a shot at him, but he was too slow. The driver slumped over, as Cham's shot took him out.

Cham looked into the back, and growled. There was at least twenty twi'lek girls in there, bound and gagged, ranging from twelve to eighteen years old. "I'll be right back," he told them. Cham jumped out of the transport, quickly assessing the situation. His fighters were taking out the last of the troopers. He walked up the line and glanced in all the transports. They were all full of twi'lek girls. Cham's rage at the new Empire grew. How dare they steal his people! Leaving his fighters to untie the other girls, he went back to the first transport only to find his best friend and right hand man, Gobi Glie, already there. He quickly helped the blue twi'lek with the untying of the girls, as they cried their relief at being saved. "What are we going to do with them?" Gobi asked.

"We get them back to their families. And then, I think we'll have to advise that all the girls go into hiding for now. This is getting out of hand. This is the third shipment of girls we've stopped, and who knows how many we've already lost? We can't let them take any more of our females." Cham left the transport, secure in the knowledge that Gobi would take good care of the girls, and jumped back on his blurrg, who had been faithfully waiting for him. Calling to his resistance fighters, he gave his final orders for the mission. "Dump the Imperial scumbags off to the side. Escort the girls to their homes. Spread the word that all underage females are to go into hiding for their own safety."

With that, Cham turned his blurrg towards his home, hours away by blurrg, and nudged it into the fastest pace it would go. It was time to have a talk with Hera. She was NOT going to like what he had to say, but he wasn't going to lose her too. Especially not to the Imperials, to be sold as a slave girl.

"I won't do it! You need me! I'm the best pilot you have!" Hera stomped around the room, lekku twitching with agitation. She whirled around and jabbed a finger into her father's chest. "You cannot make me stay in this house forever!"

Cham stayed stalwart, arms crossed over his chest and face stern. "Yes. I can. I am not losing you, Hera. Not like this. Do you want to get caught and live the life of a slave, servicing whatever sleemo paid the highest price for you!?"

Hera wilted a little, eyes no longer able to meet her father's piercing orange ones. "No. But I still don't see why I can't at least do the flying missions. I won't get caught if I'm in a fighter. They won't even know who's flying it."

"And what if you get shot down and captured?" Not giving her time to answer, he continued. "You're staying in the house, and that's final." Cham turned his back to her, heart breaking at the look of betrayal in her eyes. "I'm sorry, Hera. But that's the way it has to be. At least until we chase the Imperials off our planet. Or you get older. They don't seem to be going after anyone over eighteen, so you only have three more years to go. I pray I don't have to make you stay in the house that long though. For both our sakes."

Hera gave something that sounded suspiciously a lot like a growl to her father's back. "Fine. You win. I'll stay in the house. But I'm never talking to you again." Hera stomped towards the exit with a muttered, "Come on, Chopper."

Chopper zapped Cham, before rolling after Hera. Cham jumped and whirled, growling at the droid who cursed back at him in binary. That thing was not normal. Cham felt like he deserved it though. He called to his precious daughter just before she cleared the door. "Hera." She stopped, shoulders stiff. "You can still work on the fighters. I know you enjoy that. The hanger is close enough to the house that it should be safe enough."

Hera nodded once, then left the room, her faithful droid following behind.

D184/18 BBY, Takodana

Kanan spent the morning meditating deep in the forest, far from Maz Kanata's castle. He soaked in the peace and quiet of the forest, as different from the noisy bar that housed the widest assortment of smugglers, pirates, and other riff raff, that you could get. Despite technically no longer being a Jedi, Kanan had not been able to stop practicing the teachings he'd been raised with. Meditation was what had gotten him through the loss of his old life, because even though all of his friends and Masters were gone, the Force was still there. It would always be there for him, as reliable and necessary as the sun in the sky. Kanan drew comfort from the Force every day, secure in the knowledge that somewhere in the vast entity of the Force, Depa was still alive, in some form.

As Kanan sat, letting his mind drift, the wind blew through the trees, creating a soothing rhythm for him to breathe to. He became the wind, the trees, the animals scurrying through the forest, his whole being just existing in the moment. With closed eyes, he fell deeper and deeper into the Force.

Kanan found Hera working on a fighter in the hanger, assisted by Chopper. "Hera," he called. "I have a present for you!" Hera emerged from deep in the fighter's engines, covered in grease, and looking even more beautiful than the last time he'd seen her, days ago. The last mission with Cham had taken much longer than planned. But it had been worth it. At least he hoped so.

Hera beamed at him as she walked towards him, wiping her greasy hands on a rag. "A present? Kanan, you've never given me a present before." She stopped in front of him, reached up to wrap her arms around his neck, but remembered her grease covered state, and dropped her arms. Instead she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

Kanan chuckled, and gathered her up in his arms, lifting her off the ground, pressing a proper kiss to her lips. "You can get me as dirty as you want, darling. You're worth it."

Hera laughed, and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him back. She pulled back and grinned. "You asked for it. Don't blame me when you can't get the grease stains out of your clothes though."

Kanan grinned and set her back on her feet. "Don't care. Clothes can be replaced." He grabbed her hand. "Come on. You need to see your present." Hera smiled as he tugged her along, towards the small people sized door at the back of the hanger. Before he opened it, he said, "Close your eyes."

Hera looked at him in surprise, but did as he asked. Kanan grabbed her other hand too, carefully leading her out the door and into the sunshine. Making sure she was positioned just right, he stood behind her, hands on her shoulders and said, "Happy birthday, Hera."

Hera opened her eyes and gasped. "Kanan! It's beautiful! Where did you get it?" She whirled around and kissed him soundly for a minute, not giving him a chance to reply, before running towards her present.

Kanan grinned broadly, his whole body feeling full to overflowing with the joy she was radiating. He followed behind, enraptured with her, as she explored her present. This moment made up for everything bad that had happened in his life. She was perfect.

Kanan opened his eyes in wonder. If that was a vision from the Force, then he eagerly awaited his future. Now all he had to do was get to Ryloth. He stood up and walked back towards the old castle. He needed to talk to Kasmir. A life with Hera was worth fighting for.

Walking into the dim bar, Kanan searched for his friend/boss. He found him at a table playing sabacc with a bunch of lowlifes. Judging by the pile of loot in front of Kasmir, he was on a roll. Not wanting to interrupt, Kanan went to the bar instead. He chuckled at the tiny ancient female behind the bar when she plopped a glass of blue milk in front of him. "Really, Maz? Milk? Surely I'm old enough for something a little stronger? At least caf?"

Maz blinked her eyes behind her goggles and looked at him very seriously. "You shall never turn to drink. At least not in my bar. Bad things would befall you if you ever went down that path." Kanan blinked in shock. That had sounded disturbingly like Master Yoda, without the backwards speak. Her eyes went a little glassy, as she seemed to look through him. "Stay on the path you have chosen. Follow the light." Kanan just gaped at Maz for a moment before remembering to close his mouth. Was she a Force user? Shouldn't he have sensed it? Maz seemed to snap out of it, continuing as if the conversation had been normal the whole time. She smiled at him and nudged the cup of milk closer to him. "Drink your milk. You're a growing boy. It's good for you."

Kanan dutifully drank his milk, his mind whirling. What did Maz mean? Stay on the path he had chosen? Follow the light? The first thing that came to mind was Hera. He had just resolved to go find her as soon as possible. Did she mean continue to follow the Light side of the Force? Surely that was a no brainer? Or could it be something more complicated than that?

Kanan was torn from his musings by a scuffle and angry yelling from behind him. "Hey! No fighting in my bar!" yelled Maz. "You know the rules!"

Kanan turned around to see what was happening. But he was too late. The blaster had already shot Kasmir directly in the chest. Kanan's first instinct was to throw the offending pirate across the room with the Force. He was raising his arm to do it and everything, but Maz touched his arm gently. He glanced at her for half a moment, surprised. She gave a tiny shake of her head. As Kanan ran to Kasmir, he realized she was right. He couldn't show what he was to this bunch of outlaws. There was a huge bounty out for any Jedi still alive. He'd be hunted faster than you could say Jabba the Hutt.

Kanan knelt by Kasmir's fallen body. He was gasping for breath, his green skin turning a sickly grey. Kanan gathered him up into his lap while Kasmir looked up at him through eyes that were rapidly losing their focus. "Kid. Thank you. Take the Kasmiri. It's yours now. You earned it."

Kanan felt a tear creep down his cheek. He smiled weakly at his friend. His saviour. "I finally thought of a name. It's Jarrus. Kanan Jarrus."

Janus Kasmir smiled one last time, then went limp in Kanan's arms. Maz appeared beside him. She scooped up all the winnings from the table that Kasmir had won into a bag and handed it to Kanan. "This is yours." There was a sputter of protest from the others still at the table, but she silenced them with a glare. "Go, Kanan. I'll deal with this. Go meet your destiny. I'll see you again one day."

Kanan placed Kasmir's body down on the floor and rose to his feet. "Thank you, Maz." He mouthed, 'May the Force be with you.'

Maz smiled knowingly and winked, then shooed him out of the bar. As he was leaving, he heard her yelling at the one who had killed Kasmir. "And you! You get out of my bar and never come back! And take your odiferous crew with you!"

Kanan made his way to the Kasmiri quickly, not wanting a confrontation with the pirate crew. He ran into the bridge and started the engines. Out of curiosity, he waited for the pirates to come out of the castle. They trudged out, looking like some of the worst scum in the galaxy he'd ever seen. They boarded a heavily modified for war freighter, a Corellian VCX-100 by the looks of it. As Kanan watched the freighter fly away, he did a double take. That ship looked awfully familiar. Not being able to place where he'd seen it before, he shrugged and took off himself. Floating in space above the lush green planet of Takodana for a minute, he entered the coordinates for Ryloth in the nav computer. Heeding Maz's words, he went to find his fated soulmate.