Author Notes: This is my first fanfic! Takes place between seasons 3 and 4. I'm trying too keep it as canon compliant as possible, so if I mess something up please tell me. Enjoy!

Ever since their defeat on Atollon had forced them on the run again, the surviving rebels did their best to rebuild, while avoiding another devastating attack. The scraps of Phoenix Squadron and General Dodonna's Massassi group had fled to Yavin IV at first, but decided it would be safer for the Alliance if they stayed on the move for a while. There was still a chance of being tracked. After losing so many ships, including their flagship Phoenix Home, the rebellion simply could not take the risk. As a matter of fact, the Empire had managed to sneak up on them a couple times. Thrawn was disturbingly good at predicting which planets they would try to collect fuel and supplies on.

Luckily it had been relatively smooth going for the last month and a half. Bail Organa and others continued to donate ships whenever they could afford it. They survived by raiding imperial facilities and stealing imperial ships.

Just like the good old days. That's what Kanan Jarrus thought as he attempted to navigate the rebels' latest and only real achievement since Atollon. About a month ago they had managed to hijack and make off with a brand-new Imperial carrier. Without a planetary base, they desperately needed a new one to replace Phoenix Home. Now most of the supplies they got a hold of, as well as every starfighter that would fit, were immediately crammed into the massive hangar.

Unfortunately, that created an absolutely nightmarish maze for Kanan. Even Force-sight couldn't save him from tripping over every cable, hose and crate he came across. He'd removed his mask to let some air on his face (stale as it was), hoping that would help him be more open to his surroundings, but the constant and bewildering noise that filled the hangar made it nearly impossible to concentrate on sensing and avoiding obstacles. Seven times now he had to stop and reorient himself as he would change directions to get around some barricade of crates and then be turned around.

He was trying to find his way to the command center to give a report to Dodonna and the other Massassi leaders on the Spectres' recent supply mission. For although Hera Syndulla had long ago earned her place as a rebel captain of their unit, she now deferred to the Massassi leaders as Pheonix Squadron no longer existed. There were simply too few left to be considered an individual cell after the devastation of Atollon. For the time being, Hera and the crew were back to minor missions and supply runs. And new protocol required a detailed report on every... single... one.

Hera and the rest of the crew were currently occupied with tasks that required eyesight. So Kanan was stuck with mission report. Of course, said command center had to be as far away as possible from where the Ghost was docked. He could sense exactly where it was, but getting there was proving difficult. He growled as his shin clipped the corner of... something.

Why are we even bothering to report a simple milk run? Hera could've just buzzed their success into the comm and that would be that. Back in the good old days, even that wouldn't be necessary. But nooo, he drawled the word in his mind. Now we have to follow protocol! Even after almost four years as part of Pheonix Squadron and the larger rebellion, Kanan was constantly irked by the rules, and ranks, and dos, and do-nots. He was a rebel of the rebels.

Quit complaining, he told himself, reining in his temper. An off-duty pilot offered to guide him but he declined. He needed to build up his Force-sense now, or he would always be reduced to asking for help in situations like this.

Kanan figured that he was about halfway there, and at the end of temper, when he felt a familiar presence in the Force heading his way. Seconds later, his apprentice greeted him cheerfully.

"Hey Kanan! Did you give the report already?"

"I haven't even got there yet."

"Get lost in this junkyard?"

"Yep."

"I got ya."

Ezra put a hand on his master's shoulder and turned him around, then guided him back the way he'd come. Kanan still wasn't wearing his mask and he turned his milky gaze on where Ezra's head should be.

"Uh, I still need to report." He said.

"Forget it. I know you hate that stuff, and I've finished repairing the Phantom II's navicomputer so I'll cover it. Besides," he continued with a friendly smirk, "you're only a quarter of the way there."

"What?!" Kanan was astonished.

"Hehe, yeah it's a mine field in here. No one blames you. It's kinda funny though how you're still a badass on the battlefield and on missions, but you can't make seventy feet through the hangar."

"It's just so crowded in here that everything's Force signature blurs together. Not to mention it's too loud to concentrate...Wait. Were you all watching me suffer?"

"Maybe..."

"Probably took bets too."

"Yeah. I owe Zeb five credits for saying you'd make it."

Kanan shoved Ezra in mock-irritation. His blindness was no longer a taboo subject, in fact it was often subject to friendly joke nowadays. Everyone including himself was used it and they had all learned to work with it. For so long after Malachor, Kanan had felt useless and an outcast. And trapped... in a small... black... box. His depression had strained his relationship with the crew. Especially Ezra. But when The Bendu taught him to see without sight, the world was opened to him again, and since then it was no longer any hindrance. Except now.

"If it's any comfort, Hera caught us, and now we have to scrub the cannon barrels."

"Heh, at least someone still loves me."

"We all do. At least we all owe you too much."

"That's for sure. You know I'm keeping a list." Kanan paused. He could now sense a clear path to the Ghost. Zeb and Rex scrubbing doggedly at the guns as Ezra had promised. Hera occupying herself in the engine room. Chopper preparing some malicious prank for whoever next walked into the fresher. Home.

"I thought we agreed on eternally even."

Kanan padded his apprentice on the shoulder. "I can make it back from here."

"Ok, see ya."

He turned and bolted for the command center.

Kanan walked up the extended ramp and made his way through the familiar hallways he knew would be free of obstacles. Hera was still somewhere in the belly of the ship and would not likely be coming out any time soon, so he went to crash in his bunk. Usually he would meditate at this time of day, but he just didn't feel like it for some reason. Soon he was asleep, and for the first time in a long time, he had a nightmare.

At first it was the usual. Caleb Dume. Surrounded by battle droids. Blaster bolts searing his shoulder and torso. Stance killed in front of him... Back to Kaller. Order 66. Master Depa Billaba screams at him, telling him to run. His master falls to the ground dead, a smoking blaster wound in her back. Months of being hunted and alone.

Then the inquisitor. Interrogation. Bright crackling tendrils of electricity searing his entire body.

Malachor. Maul. His vicious red saber the last thing Kanan saw before it slashed across his face. Pain and darkness.

Then something he'd never seen before... A small, unfamiliar moon standing out against a much larger planet. Desert and craggy rock formations. A rundown but still impressive city carved into the top of a large mesa. Was it familiar? He, Ezra and others he couldn't see standing in the desert. A man and a woman smiling... at him? It felt more like a memory. Voices calling him. "Kanan!" Getting louder. "Kanan!" Shaking. "KANAN WAKE UP!"

He shot awake, panting and throwing a punch into empty air. The images were replaced with blackness. He immediately sensed Hera next to him. She squeezed his shoulder in concern, ignoring the fact that he'd nearly hit her.

"You were having a nightmare." He felt her gaze on him.

"Yeah. Thought those were gone for good." He tried to focus on her; the smell of soot and engine oil clinging to her flight suit. Her warm, gentle voice. The last part of the dream began to come back to him. He knew immediately that he'd just had a Force vision. The first one in long time. Who knew what it meant. But as always, it rattled him. He decided not to mention it to Hera.

"You had a vision didn't you?" The Twi'lek asked gently. Of course. She knew him too well.

"Yeah."

"Are you gonna tell me about it?"

"Maybe later."

"Okay."

He smiled at her gratefully. She never pushed him. But then she stood up, and Kanan realized that he wasn't her only concern at the moment.

"Kanan, we have a problem."