Fire Across the Galaxy

part 6

Author's note: Yes, I shall be completing this fanfic! Yay! I imagined Kanan as being drugged while tortured, as he looks pretty high in the cell. So yeah, I thought Kanan was going to have to fight the Inquisitor pretty dazed and all that jazz. Enjoy.

Each stumbling step brought a new wave of dizziness for him. The floor swoops up in waves beneath his feet, walls twirl in front of his eyes, nausea bubbles in his stomach. Phantoms of pain still rock through his body, those endless questions burn in his ears, an almost loopy cool sensation still tingles in his veins, making moving and seeing difficult but doing nothing to chase away his pain. The torture seemed never ending for Kanan Jarrus.

Through his dazed, drug filled brain, Kanan could only fumble three memories. A pale, nightmarish head , it's colorless lips whispering what Kanan knew was true. Kanan fled from the Jedi Order, he fled from his dying master, he fled from those he could have saved. Kanan was a coward that fled when the situation seemed too intense. The Inquisitor didn't implant the seed inside his head, he had nurtured and helped the seed of guilt bloom into a flower of guilt, regret, and there it was again. Fear. His master's last words to him still echo throughout his mind, her last breath, her last request for him, her every last words, "Caleb, run. Run and never look back!" Kanan had done that, but at what cost? Kanan could have stayed behind and helped saved other Jedi, padawans, younglings. But all he did was run, and he never looked back. He never looked back until Hera came and even then it had been a mere glimpse quickly taken. When he had looked back, it had been over a decade later. It was a young boy named Ezra Bridger who had helped him unlock the heavy door to his past.

Ezra.. Ezra who had given his lightsaber to Kanan without blinking an eye. Ezra, who had became his key to becoming a Jedi again. Ezra, who had guided him from the darkness that had almost consumed him, it's maw only inches from his head. Ezra's lightsaber! The endless swirling slows as his mind breaks through the murky chains that had imprisoned it. Kanan's hand jerks to his belt, only to be met with empty air. Panic sweeps through his mind. Did he loose Ezra's lightsaber in his drugged state? He asks himself as his jade eyes dart across the corridor before finally resting upon his other hand. Tan fingers curled around it's unique handle, his right hand grips the lightsaber tightly. A low sigh of relief breaks through the silence of the corridor. Kanan must have forgotten he held the lightsaber. The drug that numbs his body and mind still lurks in his mind, continuing it's job until it would leave his body. Hera would laugh at him in his drugged state right now.

The golden memory sweeps across him before his mind had time to react. The feeling of her lips against his, the faint taste of bittersweet meiloorun, the soft touch of her lekku against his hand as they embraced. Kanan remembers it all in the best of details.

As he stumbles along, imagining the feeling of Hera's lips, Kanan faintly realizes he was now on a small platform supported high above the ground. Standing mere yards across from him stood his nightmare. A faint smirk playing upon his colorless lips, the Inquisitor rose up his blood red lightsaber, his lips moving to form words, "Welcome to your death, Jedi."