Chapter 8: New Dawn - 11 BBY

It was shaping up to be a long night, but then, every night was a long night on Gorse. This was just not looking like it was going to be the good kind. Not the kind where the day's wages bought enough alcohol to see him in a stupor upon the cantina floor. Not the kind where a local beautiful girl infatuated with him found her way into his bed. Not the kind where the Empire was kind and benevolent enough to just not show up and ruin everyone's fun. No, this was a night where factories were terrorized by an Imperial cyborg psycho Count, a night where mysterious, beautiful women just fell out of the sky and treated him like he wasn't worth the dirt on her boots, even though he had saved her. A night where crazy conspiracy theorists armed to the teeth with bombs were actually right.. A night where the moon was literally going to blow up, and Kanan Jarrus had enough.

He strode across the empty cantina, tables and chairs turned over upon the ground, and made his way behind the bar, grabbed a bottle of the proprietor's hard stuff from under the counter, and sat on the stool, refusing to move as he drank. Gorse, as a planet, sucked. Tidally locked because of the gravitational pull of it's huge, nearby moon, Cynda, one half of the Inner Rim world, the livable side, was trapped in perpetual night, while its other side baked in constant daylight in temperatures hot enough to melt droids. To be sure, Gorse was a good place for a person to fall between the cracks, where a person could lose themselves in the monotony of work, where a person could go undistinguished among the miners, the deadbeats and the drunks that wandered the streets of a world in endless night. Which was exactly what Kanan liked about the place.

At twenty two years old, Kanan Jarrus stood over six feet tall with tanned skin, shoulder length brown hair tied back into a ponytail, striking teal eyes, and an air about him that could only be described as roguish. He was a man adrift, prickly and aloof to most, a drifter than never stayed in one place for too long, and was known as something of a gunslinger, a brawler that fought drunk and fought often. He was reckless, impatient and belligerent, a hedonistic pleasure seeker that seemed to roam without a care in the world about anything or anybody, much to the irritation of his current companion, but...

Well, he wasn't thinking about her right now, though his eyes did follow her as she walked across the bar, glaring at him suspiciously as she guided an exhausted Sullustan and a broken, bleeding human idiot across the cantina and through a door in the back that led to small apartments directly above them. Nobody was using them anyway, so they may as well. It had been a long night, and like them, Kanan just wanted it to be over. The sooner they were out of his life, the better, though he would miss the captivating, green skinned Twi'lek. There was something about her, something he couldn't place...beyond how disgustingly gorgeous she was, how smoothly her voice drifted through the air and caressed his ears like music. But with her went trouble. Attention. The Empire. And where the Empire went, fun died, and Kanan couldn't have that.

It wasn't like Kanan avoided the Empire. When a regime's reach touched the furthest edges of the galaxy, avoiding them was pointless. He just didn't want to be near them, didn't want to attract attention, and that came easily to him. The Empire paid no mind to a drifter, another nameless face among trillions just like him. He just wanted to have some fun, and when the Empire showed up, restrictions tightened, people walked more cautiously, became more boring, and the fun was driven away. Kanan wasn't running from them. He just didn't want to be bored, so every few months, it was time for a new place, a new job, a new cantina with new people, a new girlfriend. A new life, every few months, which suited Kanan just fine, and with no lasting friendships, no close acquaintances, no romantic entanglements, from his end, at least, it was easy to pack up and go.

Kanan had been on Gorse too long as it was. For five months, he had lived among the darkness of the planet, working as a freighter pilot carrying shipments of volatile explosives from Gorse to the thorilide on Cynda, a dangerous job that drew Kanan to it because of the thrill of possible death every time he got in his ship and flew. Also, it paid well, and he was very good at it. But then the Empire came to oversee the mining operations of the valuable crystals. Then a demolitions expert named Skelly, the bloody idiot that had walked past him in the bar minutes ago, had caused a collapse in the mine, the Imperial presence prompting him to take drastic measures to show them that mining the moon wasn't safe. Then something...happened, a thing that Kanan had tried long and hard to forget, had tried to put behind him, a thing from another time, when he was a different man, and all he could do was hope nobody had seen it and pack his few belongings. It was time to go.

That morning, he had been ready to leave Gorse for good. He had packed his things, he had quit his job, and carefully neglected to say goodbye to Okadiah, the owner of the bar that Kanan drank in, lived in, and occasionally bartended in. It was easier that way, better that way, especially since the old man had grown very fond of Kanan, and, in a way, Kanan found he liked him as well, the old man a good landlord simply because of the amount of alcohol he always had on hand, but there was something fatherly about the old bar owner, something that kept Kanan there when he would have otherwise left long ago. Okadiah was like...a father. One that Kanan had never had and never knew he needed until he came to Gorse. But that was done, and he was ready to leave.

Or, that had been the intention. By that afternoon, everything had changed, and Kanan had found himself wrapped up in things way beyond what he had been willing to deal with. Because he was a sucker for a pretty girl, when the Twi'lek beauty he was so captivated with batted her large, green eyes, he had begrudgingly agreed to take her along with him when he went to the company he worked for to tell the boss he quit so she could spy on some Imperial big shot that had traveled to Gorse to restructure the refinement of thorilide for maximum efficiency. Count Vidian. Kanan frowned as he drank from the bottle in his hand, his entire being rejecting the very thought of the cruel and callous Imperial. But he hadn't known that at the time, and he agreed to help the Twi'lek, Hera, to infiltrate the facility where Vidian would be conducting his investigation.

It had been a huge mistake. As soon as he arrived, Kanan had been grabbed by an Imperial officer that he may have messed with earlier, and since Hera had his ID badge so she could get into the facility, Kanan instead relying on being known by the company, he was detained for trespassing, the increased security leaving no room for any deviation from protocol. As he said, fun dead, and the officer had been pleased to get her hands on the mouthy pilot from a few days prior. Kanan was none too pleased, but he approached the situation in the same way he always approached Imperials. By being overly happy to see them. He found that the more helpful he was, the more polite, the more friendly he was willing to be, the quicker the stormtroopers and Imperial officers wanted to get rid of him. It was easily the best way to keep the Empire away from him.

But it didn't work that time. That time, everything went to hell before he could get on the woman's nerves. That time, Hera had returned to him to tell him the Count Vidian had murdered Kanan's boss, a good woman, by pushing her into a vat of acid. That time, Skelly the idiot, already a wanted man for his mine collapse stunt on Cynda, had blown up the Count's shuttle when his attempts to personally warn Vidian about the dangers of mining the moon had gone south. That time, Kanan had been shot at by stormtroopers, Imperial officers, called in TIE Fighters when he, Hera, and Skelly had fled the scene in a hoverbus that had been an antique back in the Old Republic. And now, finally, they had escaped, and Kanan brought them all back to the bar he called home, unsure where to go or what to do next.

He just knew he had to leave. This was getting too big for him.

"It seems like Skelly may have been right after all," Hera said softly as she walked back into the bar from the back room. Kanan straightened up, pulled another bottle from under the counter, and poured a glass, placing it in front of the barstool across from him and gesturing to it with a cocky smile on his face.

"Gonna have that drink with me after all?" he drawled, his smile becoming more genuine as she rolled her eyes and sat across from him.

"Zaluna took a look at the surveillance footage from the hoverbus." Kanan sighed heavily and tried his best not to look bored. He had forgotten about Zaluna, a Sullustan woman working as a surveilence expert for a company contracted by the Empire, but she had no loyalty to the Empire herself, not with the current situation. He wasn't really sure how she figured into all of this, but so far as Kanan could tell, she was the reason, or was in possession of the reason that Hera was on Gorse in the first place. It seemed like Hera's presence and the sudden swelling of the Impperial forces was just a coincidence.

There are no such thing as coincidences.

With a growl, Kanan shook his head to clear the pesky voice within him, a voice that he had tried so hard to forget, but as of late, had spoken up quite a bit. He didn't need this, not now. "Let me guess..." he drawled, drinking from the open bottle in his hand and ignoring the Twi'lek's look of distaste. "Cynda is going to collapse on itself, all of Skelly's research is right, and we need to admit that a crazed conspiracy theorist bomber is the reasonable one between us."

Hera smiled softly. "I don't think we need to go that far, no."

"Well, is it too much to hope that Vidian saw the error of his ways and is going to pack it all up and ship out?"

"Just a bit much, yeah." The smile dropped off her face. "It seems that Skelly's research gave Vidian ideas. He's going to blow up the moon, the whole thing, just to mine the thorilide faster and cut the time and cost it would take to send people there to mine it safely."

Kanan scoffed in disbelief. "Seems like Skelly wasn't crazy enough. Seems unbelievable to me that they could actually destroy a moon, though."

"I agree..." Hera said thoughtfully, then looked pointedly at the man. "But what if they could? What would happen to Gorse if tomorrow, Cynda was suddenly gone?"

Kanan just shrugged. "Seems like my idea to skip town is getting better and better." Hera sneered in disbelief at the carefree young man.

"Don't you care about anything?"

"It's never good to care about too much," he said flippantly. "You'll just be bound for disappointment." Hera stood up from the bar.

"I'm going to get some rest before I'm out of here," Hera said cooly. "I'll take Zaluna with me. I owe it to her to get her somewhere safe."

"Well," Kanan drawled, leaning over the bar to draw closer to her, "I guess I can tag along. Where are we headed to first? After you drop of Zaluna wherever it is she wants to go. I know some great casinos, we could-"

"I don't take riders," the Twi'lek said harshly, her hand raised to silence him and her lekku twisting in irritation. "I'm not...traveling the galaxy looking for companions or a good time. I have goals, and I don't need anybody along who isn't interested in them slowing me down."

"But Zaluna-"

"Has preformed a service, not for me, but for the galaxy, at the expense of everything she ever knew, and she needs to be able to start a new life where she can be safe. I can help her do that." Hera glared pointedly at the shocked man before her and almost felt bad. There had been something there before, something that had caught her interest, and she had come down tonight to see if she could find what that was, and only found a lack of conscious. A self-centered hedonist was all there was to Kanan Jarrus, and if there was more, she didn't have the time or the patience to unravel it. She was looking for people with spirit, and not everyone had that. "You, so far as I can tell, roll with whatever happens, no matter what, and with whoever's in charge."

"That's...harsh," Kanan said quietly, and the Twi'lek just shrugged indifferently.

"It's what I see." She sighed when she saw those expressive teal eyes wounded. "Look, I thank you for what you've done, Kanan," she said, reaching into the pockets of her cloak and fishing out a handful of credits, which she laid on the bar before the man. "For your help."

"What am I, a mercenary?" the man asked, tense, disbelieving laughter in his voice, but Hera just shook her head.

"No, but take it anyway. You'll go further with it when you leave."

It was pointless to be upset, but the tiny voice within Kanan was offended. He quickly pushed it away as he took the credits from the bar.

She had to leave as well. With what they discovered from the survelience on the hoverbus, there would be no reason for continued investigations on Gorse. Vidian would return to his ship to research Skelly's work, and while that was happening, there was very little that Hera could do. Like Kanan, she had to get out now while the Imperials were occupied, and like Kanan, she doubted the moon could be destroyed. The level of engineering to pull off that level of destruction was enormous, something that Hera had certainly never seen before, and it was unlikely something like that existed. Yes, there would still be stormtroopers in the streets as they searched for Skelly and his accomplices, but the presence would be less, the security more slack now that Vidian was off-world.

Just as Hera turned to leave, the front door of the bar swung open, and both pairs of eyes shot to the front, wary and cautious and on guard, Kanan's hand flying to the hilt of the blaster he kept on his belt. For just a moment, Kanan's heart stopped, his pupils narrowing into pinpoints as he stared at the black and red armor of the man that walked in, and for a moment in the low light, it looked like clone armor. He found he couldn't breathe as he stared, not at the man before him, but at the images that flashed before his eyes, memories that he tried so hard to put away, but could never truly forget, his heart pounding in terror as he saw the clones he trusted raise their blasters against him and open fire, his Master slain as he ran and barely escaped.

It seemed, no matter how hard he tried, Kanan Jarrus couldn't put Caleb Dume away.

Kanan closed his eyes tight and opened them, the clone armor gone with the memory and he stared at a Mandalorian, which, really, was just as bad. The Empire drafted millions into service as stormtroopers, and they had no qualms about using their vast numbers to overwhelm their opponents, their under-trained troopers mere cannon fodder in their tactic of overwhelming might. After all, there really was no force in the galaxy that could rival the Empire anyway, so they could get away with mediocrity. Not so with the Mandalorians. Coming from a culture of warriors, each and every child of Mandalore was trained since childhood to be a warrior, and they all were. The best of those served in the Death Watch, the protectors of the great and mighty Mandalorian territory, and the elite of the Death Watch joined the Shadow Legion, super commandos that wore armor of black and red, the color of the smoke and flames that they brought to their enemies as their worlds were burned.

And now, these warriors served the Empire. Kanan didn't know more than that. He didn't need to know more than that, he just knew that when Mandalore came to call, you ran. These weren't the Imperials that he could drive away with enthusiasm for the glorious Empire. These were killers, cold and brutal, a people that had followed a Shadow King, a Sith Lord during the Clone Wars as he led them to burn entire systems in his mindless lust for revenge. Forget about Cynda and the possibility of blowing up the moon, these people had incinerated entire systems, slaughtered the inhabitants of entire planets. And now one stood in the entrance of the bar, and all Kanan could think of were the words of his Master, Depa Billaba, before their clone soldiers gunned her down.

Kanan remembered the stories that Master Billaba used to tell him so long ago, back in another lifetime when he was Caleb Dume, Jedi Padawan, before the Jedi Purge. Before Order 66. Before the Jedi were betrayed, not just by the clones they trusted and the Republic they served, but by the Force that was supposed to guide them. Depa Billaba had fought him once. The Sith Lord. The Jedi Traitor. The Fallen Knight. Obi-Wan Kenobi. The Lord of the Sith, Darth Lumis, had killed her sister so very long ago, and when they fought, young Caleb's Master had done all she could to see justice done. But it hadn't been enough. The Sith Lord didn't break her physically, though he did best her in lightsaber combat, with a blade that had the settings lowered to painful, not fatal, the entire encounter almost as if it were a game to him.

Kenobi had beaten Depa Billaba mentally, had entered her mind and tore her apart, shattering her defenses and her consciousness so severely, so completely, that the Jedi Master of the Council laid in a coma, unable to return, for a year. Inquisitive Caleb Dume had asked her about this, of course, his curious nature driving him to understand everything about this threat that stood opposed to the Jedi so one day, he may fight against the legendary Sith Lord and bring justice to the greatest traitor to the Republic and the Jedi since Darth Revan. But his Master had been mostly quiet about it, saying little about the Sith Lord himself, but she did tell him about the troops he commanded. The Lost Battalion. The Shadow Legion, the one that the Mandalorian super commandos would eventually come to model themselves after, a clone army stolen from one of the Jedi commanders and made to serve the Sith Lord and the Separatists against their purpose. A clone army in armor of black and red, of smoke and flames.

Kanan felt his heart hum, pounding so hard he was sure it could be seen outside his chest.

The Mandalorian walked casually toward the center of the room, surveying the chairs overturned in the frenzy from earlier, the stains on the ground left by spilled booze and sick patrons, the patched holes in the wall left by flying fists in drunken brawls, a few which Kanan had put there himself. He was relaxed, his arms hanging at his side as he turned and looked around, and Kanan's eyes couldn't help but drift over the blaster rifle strapped to his back, the twin heavy pistols on the belt at his waist, the blaster strapped to his thigh, but what drew Kanan's eye was the chrome, cylindrical object clipped across his belt at his lower back.

A lightsaber.

Worn right in the open, which meant this man wasn't a Jedi. The Jedi were dead, in any case, and given the Mandalorian cultural history, there were only a few reasons why he could have one, but it seemed very likely that this man, this Death Watch elite, killed a Jedi and took their lightsaber as a trophy, a symbol of his strength and the threat he posed. He was in danger. Had he been sent by the Empire to hunt him? Had the Mandalorian somehow seen security footage of the incident in the mines, when Kanan had reached out and unwittingly touched the Force, catching falling rubble to save his fellow miners?

He felt...bitter. Resentful. The Force had allowed the Jedi to die, and it wasn't something he could just leave, something he could put aside and just forget, as much as he wanted to. It had this way of creeping back in, just when he thought it was gone, when he hadn't thought about it in months, when he couldn't feel its pull, like it was gone, and just when he felt he had escaped it, the Force would make itself known. And now, the Force was going to get him killed too. Even with his minimal Jedi training, he wasn't sure he could beat this Mandalorian, not without putting Hera at risk. So Kanan Jarrus did what he did best.

"What can I do for you?" Kanan said, a bright smile on his face as he pulled a shot glass from the cabinets and put it on the bar. "Would you care for a drink?"

He couldn't see his eyes through the visor, but Kanan knew the man was looking at him, and slowly, he chuckled and shook his head. "No, thank you," the Mandalorian said, and Kanan felt his heart stop. This man sounded like a clone. "Perhaps you could help me, though. I'm looking for someone. I thought the bars would be a good place for information, but..." He gestured to the empty room. "It seems the Imperial presence is bad for business."

Kanan shrugged, grabbing a rag from under the counter and he handed it to Hera, the Twi'lek taking it without a word and moving behind the counter to dutifully begin wiping down the glasses. "I hear it'll be good for business once they fix up the factories. Increased production, they say."

The Mandalorian hissed. "And how long do you suppose that'll take?"

"Who knows," Kanan drawled. "They say Count Vidian's on it, though, so it can't be that long. He's some sort of efficiency expert, right?" He puffed his chest and drew up to his considerable full height. "Forget the old ways!" he said, deepening his voice in an imitation of Count Vidian's boisterous, modulated tones. "That's what he's always saying, right? I saw his holovid series, truly inspirational."

"What do you need to know, sir?" Hera asked sweetly. "Are you looking for the mad bomber too? Skelly?" She put the cleaned glass in her hand back into the cabinet. "We already told the stormtroopers we don't know anything. We'll report it if we see him. We don't want that crazy person running around."

"Bad for business," Kanan said, stroking the hair on his chin. The Mandalorian said nothing for a moment, just casually observed them.

"I'm looking for someone named Syndulla," he finally said, and though her face remained impassive, Kanan could feel Hera tense beside him. "Twi'lek, male, orange coloring, forty standard years of age, approximately."

"Never heard of him," Kanan said as he shrugged, looking at Hera out of the corner of his eye. "But if he's here, I'd know about it. Everyone comes through here at some point, and if you aren't a local on this steaming mud pile, then you sort of stand out." The Mandalorian nodded, seeming to accept this answer, and yet he stayed, looking around as if he was expecting something. "...yeeeeeesss..."

"I don't know," the warrior said quietly, looking around at everything and nothing at all. "My boss is...sort of an oddball. He sent me here to look for something...unexpected. I don't know what, he couldn't put his finger on it. Said he saw it in a dream. Or something."

Kanan snorted. "Sounds like your boss might be hitting the bottle a bit hard."

"He does that, yes."

"Sounds like your boss is my kind of guy." The Mandalorian stared at Kanan for a moment before laughing, the sound filtered through the helmet sounding warm and easy and genuine.

"Yeah, he's alright."

Kanan felt himself relax. The man clearly wasn't hunting him, or he would have done something by now. But Hera stayed on her guard, calm and relaxed externally, but Kanan could see her thin frame tight with anxiety. This girl was clearly trouble. He'd get away from her if she wasn't so...enticing, though it seemed as though Hera was in a bit of a hurry to put distance between them. Which was fine. Kanan didn't need this kind of trouble. As soon as the Mandalorian left, he was out of here. Maybe he'd go some place nice this time. Like Zeltros. It was supposed to be like a party there, all the time.

Kanan had just about made up his mind when the lights flickered in the bar before the room was filled with blinding light, and the ground shaking as if a bomb had gone off. Here and Kanan quickly looked at each other and ran out of the bar, following the Mandalorian into the streets. They looked up in the sky to see the night sky, bright and white with the first dawn the dark side of the planet had ever seen, and when darkness returned, Cynda, Gorse's beautiful, silver moon was broken. Not exploded, as they had feared, but a plume of debris extended from the moon's surface and reached downwards, a tear shaped cloud of crystal and stone that had erupted out of a spot that Kanan knew all too well, where he had landed to delivered explosives every day for months.

The Empire was doing it. They were blowing up the moon, and they had started with the open mines. Kanan knew the miners there, knew the people that were currently on shift on the moon. Okadiah was there. He would have taken off running had Hera's hand not grabbed his arm in an iron grip, and it gave him a moment to think. If he was going to get there, he'd need her. Hera was the best pilot he'd ever seen. If anyone could navigate the chaos of a moon on the brink of destruction, it was her.

"My Lord, are you seeing this?" the Mandalorian, said quickly into the comlink on his wrist, and Kanan immediately stopped, his attention diverted from his plans to take Hera and run for a ship as he focused on the warrior.

"I see it, Cody," came the smooth, cool drawl a moment later, an aristocratic clip to his accent that made Kanan shiver, though he didn't know why. "I'd be impressed if I wasn't so insulted. I was going to leave well enough alone, but Count Vidian officially has my attention. He needs to die."

That got Hera's attention, her eyes quickly darting to the Mandalorian called Cody, disbelief and interest plain as day on her face. "Do you have a plan?" Cody asked, calm and collected.

"Yes," was the swift reply. "Get off the planet, Cody, investigate what happened on that moon. I'm going to go get to know our enemy."

"Don't do anything stupid," the Mandalorian warned. "You're one man against an Empire, you can't do this alone."

"I'm not alone," the man said softly, an assured ring in his voice. "I sense that in this, we are four." Cody looked up at the two people standing before him and stared for a long moment.

"Understood," he said, turning off the comlink. "Four people against the might of Count Vidian," he said, stepping closer to Kanan and Hera. "I like those odds. You got a ship?"

Kanan didn't waste another moment as he dashed down the street, Hera and Cody close behind him as they sprinted toward the shipyard.


Hera had insisted on returning for Saluna and Skelly, fearing for their safety on the planet should the worst come to pass. Kanan had complained, but not too much. He couldn't have done it without the Twi'lek, who was proving to be a much better pilot than he had thought, and his opinion of her already placed her as a better pilot than him. The Mandalorian, however, was less impressed. They were silent on their way to Cynda, Hera as she concentrated, Skelly as he looked out the viewport at Cynda, the moon he had loved and tried to save, Saluna in morose contemplation of what was to come next, and Kanan as he quickly dressed in an environmental suit in preparation for his foray into the mines to save what people he could. The Mandalorian did nothing. He just sat, calm and collected.

Kanan kept an eye on him. The more time he spent with this man, this Cody, the more he understood what he was. This man was a clone, as suspected, and had served in the Clone Wars, which accounted for his calm in the face of danger. But this wasn't any clone. This clone didn't appear serve the Empire, which meant he was one of the Lost Legion, the battalion that had served the Separatists. Had served the Sith. Or maybe not. Kanan didn't know, but ultimately, it didn't matter. This was a clone, and clones were not to be trusted. The only difference between this one and the others was that he had betrayed the Jedi sooner. Perhaps if the Jedi hadn't been so blindly trustful, they could have seen the signs of betrayal that ran through all clones.

As soon as they landed, the hatch opened, and Kanan and Cody rushed out into the mess of the collapsed mine, the environmental systems failed as debris from the explosion deep within floated out into space. They didn't need to go in far to see that everyone inside was dead or dying, mortally wounded and beyond saving, but they pushed forward anyway, the Mandalorian reaching behind him and taking the cylinder on his belt into his hand and igniting it, the surrounding area bathed in the blue light of the lightsaber's glowing blade, a color that Kanan's own lightsaber shared, though his was kept in two parts, tucked safely into his personal belongings on his ship.

"Where did you get that?" Kanan asked, his voice cold and hard as he watched Cody effortlessly cut through a large stone spear that blocked their way forward. "You some sort of Jedi?"

"No." Kanan waited for him to say more, but the clone never did.

"...where did you get it?" he asked again, more biting this time, and Cody sighed, looking at the blade in his hand.

"I got it from a Jedi."

"A Jedi you killed?" Kanan said, trying to keep his voice even and measured, but he was struggling with it. "That's what you Mandalorians do for the Empire, right? You hunt Jedi."

He was silent for a long moment, cutting stone and crystal in their way as they went deeper, pushing bodies out of the way when they floated past, and Kanan looked at every single one for people he knew. He wanted to remember this. He needed to remember this. This is what the Empire did. This is what destroyed the Jedi and the Republic and his future. This is what was destroying the futures of countless others. This...could not be ignored. Not anymore. Not by him. Vidian needed to pay. The Empire needed to pay.

"...the Jedi is dead, yes." There was...something about the way he said it, some hint of sadness and a touch of longing that made Kanan feel sorry for the man, made him believe that this lightsaber wasn't some ill-gotten possession. The Jedi that owned that weapon wasn't killed by the man that carried it. Kanan still didn't trust him and he kept his hand close to his blaster just in case. There was no getting around the facts of what the clones had done. They couldn't be trusted. None of them could.

The thought left his mind as soon as Kanan saw Okadiah's body, crushed beneath one of the toppled spired of stone, the old man ashen and cold, the breathing mask on his face clear. He was gone, and there was nothing he could do. There was nothing he could have done. He knelt beside him and closed the dead man's eyes.

"Kanan." Hera's voice crackled in the helmet com of his environmental suit, and after a moment of silence, Kanan answered. "There's an Imperial broadcast to all cargo ships in the area," Hera continued, her voice tight but steady. A good person to have in a crisis, Kanan thought. "Travel to and from Gorse is now strictly prohibited, and all off-duty pilots have been ordered to report up here with the rest of the transports."

"All of them?" Kanan asked. "That's thousands of ships. What are they going to do with that many ships?"

"All ships have been ordered to follow the Star Destroyer in orbit to the Calcoraan system." Hera was silent for a moment, and Kanan could feel how serious she was, and got the sense that the voice inside him, the little Jedi voice of Caleb Dume had been right at the start. There were no coincidences. Hera was here because of Vidian. "That's Vidian's base of operations," she explained. "Skelly says they invented an explosive there more powerful than the already dangerous stuff you carry. Enough of that and they very well could destroy the moon."

With a hiss, Cody stepped away, his lightsaber deactivating as he walked away, speaking quietly into his own comlink. "There's only one thing we can do," Kanan said. "We do what they want."

"...you want to go to this Imperial base of operations?" Hera gasped in disbelief. This...wasn't like Kanan, not like the Kanan she had come to know over the past few days. Perhaps she had been wrong about him. But the plan was madness, and as of yet, she hadn't been tagged by the Empire, and in this early stage of her plans, that would have been as bad as getting caught. At least, she didn't think she'd been tagged. The Mandalorian had gven her a scare when he had said he was looking for Syndulla, but he was clearly in search of her father Cham, and he was tagged. More than tagged, he was one of the most wanted men in the galaxy. Still, she suspected that this Mandalorian and his associate may have been in line with her way of thinking. They were a possible asset, at least one to keep an eye on in the future.

"That's exactly what I want to do," Kanan said, standing from Okadiah's body and quickly making his way back, not bothering to wait for the clone.

"And what do you suppose you're going to do there?" Hera asked.

"I don't know," Kanan said. "Something. I'll just have to trust my instincts when I see what we're dealing with."

Kanan made his way back to the ship quickly, striding onto the ship with a purpose and determination that he hadn't felt since he had stood by Depa Billaba's side as her Padawan, and Hera noticed the change in him immediately. This matter on Gorse was beyond serious, something that Hera believed would have happened eventually, but this was too soon, and she wasn't ready, hadn't assembled a capable team to allow her to deal with things like this. Skelly was not revolutionary material, and he was a high-profile wanted man, which made him dangerous to her cause. Saluna was useful, and she wanted to help, but she was a small, meek woman with small ambitions, and soon, she would be far out of her depth. But the other two and the absent third...

Kanan was worth watching. She had seen it in him before in short bursts of heroics, only to fade into a carefree, easy demaenor as soon as the trouble had passed, but now, he was focused, determined, a prolonged thing that sat upon him even as he put himself beside her in the co-pilot's seat. What he had seen inside Cynda had touched him, changed him, and Hera wanted to see what he could do, and was far, far more interested in what he would do. As for Cody and his mysterious partner...he was clearly already a part of something. Something big, something organized, something that Hera was very interested in learning about.

As the blue lines of hyperspace filled the viewport, Hera turned to look back at the people in the ship, to take stock of the assets she would have within Vidian's base of operations. Vidian was cold, cruel, a thug and a murderer that cared nothing for human lives if it got in the way of efficiency. But her assets weren't much. Skelly was badly injured, the result of a savage beating he had incurred at Vidian's hands, another attempt to eliminate a problem through murder. Cody was tending to him, the Mandalorian clearly having tended to wounds more severe than that before. He was heavily armed, yes, though against what was sure to be an army of stormtroopers in a facility filled with explosives, a firefight may not be the best of ideas. Saluna was curled up on one of the pull-down cots, fast asleep. There was little she would be able to do. And Kanan...

Well, Kanan was an unknown factor at this point.

The comlink on the Mandalorian's wrist beeped, and he quickly answered. "Cody," the accented voice said quietly, and both Hera and Kanan leaned in to listen. "It would appear as if our dear Count Vidian is playing a dangerous game. A political one." The Mandalorian chuckled softly.

"That should please you. There aren't many that play this game better than you."

"And Vidian is making a very big mistake." He clicked his tongue, endlessly amused. "Pay attention, children," the voice smoothly intoned, and both Kanan and Hera shivered. The man on the other end of the comlink couldn't see them, but he was talking directly to them. "Thorilide is in high demand by the Empire, a small piece in a large machine, the base component of the stabilizers in the turbolaser cannons aboard Star Destroyers. So, naturally, Cynda and Gorse are considered the personal property of Emperor Palpatine," he drawled, amusement creeping back into his voice, "long may he reign."

"Cynda doesn't belong to anyone!" Skelly snarled, wincing as he quickly jerked and aggravated his injuries, and the voice on the other end was silent for a moment before he growled, low and feral and dangerous.

"Cody, that wasn't one of our four."

"No, my Lord," the clone said softly. "Our four is actually six."

"Six?!" the man hissed, speaking quickly in a language that Kanan didn't understand, but just hearing the words made him feel...cold. "Insignificants," he finally said dismissively. "The other two were not shown to me. Keep them in the ship, they are not to interfere."

"Insignificants?!" Skelly cried, yelling into the comlink. "Listen, pal, I don't know who you think you are, but I-"

"I will have silence from you," the voice said, calm and dispassionate, and to everyone's surprise, Skelly shut up. "To get back on subject," he said after a moment of silence to be certain he would have no more interruptions, "Vidian is attempting a scam. A grab for power to knock one of his business rivals out of the Emperor's favor. Its some long going contest between the two to see who can stab each other in the back the most times, it seems."

Cody groaned. "Typical."

"Quite," the com drawled. "The explosion we saw on Cynda was a test to see what would happen to the thorilide if the moon was detonated. It would seem that Vidian has a quota to meet, and the destruction of the moon would allow him to meet that quota, and after his success, he will hand control of mining the asteroid field to his rival."

"Generous," Cody scoffed.

"It would be, if space didn't decay the crystals. The moon is keeping the thorilide safe, and without it, the resource is wasted." He chuckled softly. "You see what that means, of course." There was silence, and after a moment, he sighed. "The test, people, do pay attention..."

"Why would they destroy the moon if it destroys most of the resource?" Cody asked, Kanan and Hera drawing closer to the Mandalorian, beginning to have an idea of where this was going. "If there's nothing to mine afterwards, why even hand the mining rights off?"

"Because," the voice drawled, "our friend Count Vidian sent the Emperor a fake test report, one that claims that the thorilide will be fine."

"Which sets up this rival for a fall when he fails to produce!" Kanan said, understanding coming to him as the final pieces fell into place.

"Very good..." the smooth voice drawled. "I must say, I'm almost tempted to keep this Vidian. Sabotaging the Emperor himself in order to achieve personal gain is quite ambitious. It's really a shame that I need to kill him."

"A shame?" Kanan gasped. "How is that a shame, he's murdered people! He's destroyed lives just so he can edge out a rival! Ridding the galaxy of that filth isn't a shame, it's good housekeeping!"

"And what about Cynda?" Hera asked. "If the Emperor believes that it is best to blow up the moon, then even without Vidian, the moon will still be destroyed! What will happen to the people of Gorse?"

"I'm inclined to let the moon be destroyed." There was outraged silence. "Destroying the moon is a blow to the Empire, a setback that they will cause themselves. It will force them to think twice in the future about doing such. A planet's population in exchange for such a thing is a fair exchange."

"These are people's lives we are talking about!" Kanan shouted, and Hera looked at him, impressed by his resolve.

"My goal," the voice said, "is Vidian's death. Nothing more. If you wish to save the moon, do so. I have given you the tools. Use them." He chuckled softly. "I look forward to seeing what you can accomplish." The com cut, and they were left in stunned silence.

"Who is this guy!" Kanan snapped, reeling on the clone on the ground, his teeth grit and his hand dangerously close to his blaster, but Cody said nothing at all, and for just a moment, Kanan felt like a Padawan again. Like he faced a Master posing riddles. Like he was being tested.

"It may not matter who he is," Hera said quickly. "What matters now is saving Cynda and Gorse." She looked at Cody. "That guy...he says he's going to kill Vidian. Will he?"

"Oh, he will," Cody said, nodding. "There isn't any doubt about that. When the moment is right, he will strike."

"And when is that?" Hera asked. "If he has access to all that information, he must be in Vidian's office. That other report, the real one, is supposed to be hidden. How would he get it otherwise?"

"I don't question his methods," the Mandalorian said quickly. "There are things beyond my understanding that I have come to just accept, and he's one of those things."

"He must be close then," Kanan said quietly. "Why not kill Vidian the first chance he got?"

"Because the moment's not right." Teal eyes narrowed in anger, and Cody sighed heavily. "Men like Vidian don't just end up dead, and if he did, the Empire would be searching tirelessly for his killer. My brother has reasons to remain hidden."

Brother. Kanan frowned. The other man wasn't a clone, his voice didn't match, so...what was he? He shook his head and focused. There would be time later to think of this. For now, he had a planet to save. "I think I know how to use this information," Kanan said, the gears in his head turning quickly. "I just need to get in contact with my Imperial girlfriend."

"Girlfriend?" Hera asked, her eyebrow arching as she looked at the man, and he just grinned.

"Yeah. You met her, she arrested us back on Gorse." Kanan's smile widened. "She thinks I'm mouthy."


The plan was simple. Find Captain Sloane. A task that seemed insurmountable the moment they stepped out into the massive loading deck of Calcoraan Depot. There were Imperial guards everywhere, all of them keeping tight guard over the bay as pilots and their crew loaded the dangerous explosive on to their ships in preparation for the flight back to Cynda. Messing up here could mean death for everybody, a thing that would only be the mild annoyance of a slight delay for Count Vidian. But Kanan had a plan.

"You," he said, pointing at the clone. "Death Watch, right?" Cody nodded. "That makes you an Imperial. Can you get us in?"

"Past the troopers?" Cody looked around Kanan's towering form to the line of stormtroopers guarding the elevators. "Yeah, probably. But actually getting to Sloane is another matter. I have orders to avoid Vidian at all costs, and announcing our presence to the officers will just bring the Count out to play. He's too much of a loose cannon for my brother's taste."

"I can work with that..." Kanan said, securing the safety helmet on his head and turning to walk toward the stormtroopers, slowing to allow Cody to take the lead. Catching sight of the heavily armed Mandalorian made the workers scatter out of the way, and long before they reached them, the stormtroopers began to fidget, their blasters up and held tightly. Cody saluted as soon as he reached the pair guarding the elevator, the two troopers nervously returning the gesture.

"I'm Captain Boba Fett of the Death Watch," Cody said, voice strong and unwavering as he handed his identification to the troopers. It checked out immediately. "Mand'alor Bo-Katan sent me to aid Count Vidian in his task for the Emperor as a personal favor for Grand Moff Tarkin." The soldiers stood up straight, their backs ridged and their weapons lowered, the two made nervous by the mere mention of so many important people in one sentence. Without wasting another moment, the soldiers gave them access to the elevator, and the trio walked inside, the doors sliding closed behind them.

"Well," Hera said, drawing closer to Cody, "you certainly are a handy one to have around, aren't you?"

"I do try to make myself useful. But you do know that the rest is up to you, right?"

"That won't be a problem," Kanan said quickly, looking around the hallways when the doors opened up and frowning. The depot was huge, and finding a single woman within it wouldn't be easy. As it turned out, they didn't need to find Sloane. She found them. Word ran up the chain of command when the Mandalorian had arrived, his high ranking status within Mandalore's infamous Death Watch alerting the officers to his presence until it stopped just below the top at the ambitious Captain Sloane. Making herself known to the infamous Mandalorian was a good way to get in with Moff Bo-Katan of Mandalore, a woman who was decidedly close with Grand Moff Tarkin, the right hand of Emperor Palpatine.

It took less than fifteen minutes for an Imperial escort to bring the Mandalorian and his two companions to a private office on the executive level of the depot where Captain Sloane was waiting, and when they entered, the woman quickly rose to her feet from the desk she sat at and saluted. Her face fell immediately when the tall man beside the Mandalorian removed his helmet, his familiar face smug, and he winked at her.

"Hey there, sexy," Kanan smoothly drawled, a cocky smile on his face when the Imperial balked. "You called?"

"You!" Sloane gasped. "The mouthy pilot!"

"So glad you remember me! Our last date was a little awkward because of, you know, the arrest, the explosions...I was worried you wouldn't call!"

Sloane quickly moved to touch the com on the desk, activating the intruder alarm and call for backup, but Kanan was faster, his blaster in hand before she could move, and he shot the com, the device sparking and smoking from the hole burned in it. Sloane drew her own blaster, but no sooner was it in her hands, it was shot out of her grasp, and slowly, she put her hands up when she looked at Kanan's cocky smile, his weapon pointed right at her.

"What do you want?" she asked, voice tense and angry, and Kanan spun the blaster in his hand, casually pointing it back at the Captain.

"I want to help you, sweetie," Kanan said, stepping forward. "See, I'm an agent of the Emperor."

"You?!" Sloane scoffed, laughing harshly despite the weapon trained on her. "You expect me to believe that? Imagine! The Emperor! Hiring a drunken oaf like you."

"I figured you wouldn't believe me," Kanan said dramatically, his voice wounded for only a moment before he grinned devilishly and thrust his thumb back at Cody. "That's why I brought my little friend here."

Cody didn't move a muscle when he said, "Grand Moff Tarkin sends his regards." Sloane swallowed hard.

"Y-you could have stolen that identification, it could be a false one, it's-"

"You really want to test that?" Kanan asked, twirling his blaster around his hand and gesturing with it. "I have an important message for the Emperor. I need you to deliver it."

"Why," Sloane snarled, trying to sound vicious, but her voice was tense and nervous. "If you really are an agent of the Emperor, you report to him directly!"

"Yes..." Kanan said, slowly moving closer to the woman as she backed up, and grinned wickedly when she backed up against the desk. "But Vidian controls all communications from here, and this message is too important to be intercepted." He smiled wolfishly as he put his hands on either side of her on the desk. "I need a high ranking Imperial officer with her own resources. You are resourceful, aren't you, Captain?"

"Say what you need to and go!" Sloane said, her teeth grit as she leaned back and away from the supposed agent. With a smile, Kanan leaned down, kissed her on the nose, and told her exactly what she needed to do.


"Why didn't it work?" Kanan asked Hera, his hands gripped tightly to the control's of the ship's single forward cannon, shooting wildly out into space as Hera flew the ship like a woman possessed, a jagged, random path in the space between Cynda and the hundreds of freighters carrying highly explosive payloads. The threat was simple, and Kanan had shouted it over the open com of the miner's guild channel, one that every single ship was tuned to: fly close, and I'll shoot you out of the sky.

They weren't actually going to shoot the ships. That would have been suicide, as the explosive payloads would set off a chain reaction among the entire convoy. But the threat was there and very, very believable, since Hera was flying like a madwoman. It was easy to believe that this crazy person would kill them all. It made the Imperial response sluggish as well, the dispatched TIE Fighters given the very difficult task of disabling the rogue transport without setting the explosives off. The result was several TIE Fighters shot out of the air, and a whole convoy of pilots too afraid to deposit the explosives where directed.

Of course, this wouldn't have been necessary if Kanan's plan had worked. When they arrived back in the Gorse system, they had been expecting Sloane on the deck of the Star Destroyer Ultimatum to order the destruction of Vidian's massive collection ship, the Forager. But no, Sloane had just directed the freighters to follow orders and deposit the cargo where directed. It was really unfortunate, and it left Kanan with the distasteful task of stalling for time while he thought of something else.

"I don't know," Hera said between clenched teeth as she focused on flying as randomly as possible, against her natural instincts to be a good pilot. "Maybe you're just really garbage at flirting. Maybe she's just not your type."

"Ah, I guess you're right," Kanan conceded, firing rapid shots at the TIE Fighters that harassed them. "She's too bossy for me. I'll just have to stick with you."

Hera rolled her eyes as she banked a hard left. "As I said, garbage at flirting." She flew up, down, in wide circles before she quickly changed direction and zigzagged across the space. "We can't keep this up forever," she said, wincing as she heard one of her passengers vomiting in the back.

"We need to get on that ship," Kanan muttered, pointing up at Forager. "Vidian's up there, but I bet there's a way to get a message to Gorse if we can get on board and get into their communications. At the very least, we can give them a chance to evacuate." Hera looked to see where Kanan was pointing. There, near the rear thrusters of the segmented, insectoid ship, were rows of landing bays open to space. It was like an open invitation. She gripped the yoke hard.

"This plan's insane. You sure you want to do this?"

Kanan nodded. These past few days, doing something, even if it was a crazy, insane something, had felt better than years on the run. "I don't have anything better to do. Let's do it." Pulling the yoke back, the ship angled up toward the Forager, and pulling back the accelerator, Hera urged the ship full speed toward the open door, her expert piloting skills bringing them exactly where they needed to be, the TIE Fighters close on their tails. A bolt of green struck their wing just as they entered the landing bay, and the ship groaned, screeching as it skid to a stop, showering sparks in its wake.

The five passengers quickly vacated the ship, the wing smoking and burning, and the looked around in awe at the massive expanse of the collection vessel, but they could only stand for a moment before they were promptly shot at. Diving behind cover, Kanan and Hera drew their blasters, the sounds of shots striking against the crates they hid behind the only sound in their ears. Beside them, Cody sat with Skelly and Saluna, the injured man and the fearful woman sitting close together, their heads ducked to avoid drawing attention to themselves. Cody's hand was pressed to his helmet, the clone listening intently to the voice on the other end of his comlink.

"We need to get to the command bridge," Kanan said quickly, leaning up over the cover and shooting at the group of stormtroopers that was firing on their position. "We'll be able to send the message from there."

"Vidian will be there," Hera said softly, but one look at Kanan and she knew that the man didn't care. Nothing was going to stop him in this.

Cody dropped his hand from his helmet. "My boss' ship is on board," he said quietly, and Kanan and Hera gawked at him. "I'm going to get these two to safety, alright? I'll come back when they're on the ship." Hera looked at him gratefully and nodded.

"Be careful." Cody responded by drawing the blaster rifle off his back and nudging Skelly and Saluna with his foot, standing and shooting quickly, his perfect marksmanship striking every stormtrooper in the company that shot at them. Saluting quickly at Kanan and Hera, he motioned for Skelly and Saluna to follow him, and the trio disappeared into the expanse of the landing bay. Not wanting to waste an opportunity, Kanan and Hera rushed out of cover, running as fast as they could down the length of the collector ship. They stopped frequently to duck behind cover, either to shoot at stormtrooopers that noticed them, or to hide as they rished past, the sound of rapid blaster fire coming from far behind them. Apparently, Cody was making an absolute mess of things, and the troopers were deployed to deal with the Mandalorian menace, not the two stray rebels. It was a perfect distraction, and while they had a clear shot most of the way, the ship was very long, and it took some time to get to the command bridge. But against all odds, they made it.

The doors slid open, and they stepped into the room, a large, circular observation deck from which the activities on the decks below could be managed and watched over. And in the middle of the room, as if he were waiting for them, was Count Vidian, his arms and legs armored constructs, cybernetic improvements covering his entire body, so far as Kanan could tell, his face covered in synthskin, his eyes an eerie yellow set in red, ocular implants that seemed not to be made for a human. He was far more machine than man, and Kanan couldn't help but wonder if he was human at all.

"So," Vidian said, his voice loud and metallic, his lips not moving at all when he spoke, the sound instead coming from a speaker upon his throat. It was...unnerving. "You're the rebel infiltrators. Do make this quick. I have a schedule to keep."

It was permission enough. Kanan and Hera both pointed their blasters at Vidian and fired, the plasma bolts striking his chest and doing...nothing at all. His metallic chest defelcted the bolts as if they were nothing, and faster than ay human could run, Vidian was sprinting right at them, a furious, vicious charge that conveyed the brutality of the man. With nothing else to do, Kanan dodged out of the way and continued to fire, shooting at his face, his eyes, his limbs, anything in hopes of having some effect, but it was for nothing. The Count reached out swiftly, grabbed the barrel of Kanan's blaster, and the metal crushed in his hands, screeching as it bent under his grasp, and Kanan looked wide-eyed at the incredible feat of strength for only a moment before Vidian struck him hard across the face, his vision exploding in white as he fell to the ground.

Kanan thought he heard Hera screaming his name, but he wasn't sure, He tried to stagger to his feet, but nothing seemed to want to obey him. He was sure, however, that Hera landed next to him, her body striking the ground so hard the floor vibrated, and then she was still. Groaning, Kanan tried to stand again, but all he could manage was a feeble kick at the ground, and he felt stupid for trying something so reckless, so foolish. Master Billaba would have been disappointed.

"After I destroy the moon," Vidian said, coming to stand before the two dazed people, "you will be arrested and brought back to Coruscant. You will die, but it will be slow. Painful. And the Empire will destroy everything you love."

It was a little late for that, Kanan thought bitterly, his vision slowly coming back to him as he looked up into the merciless eyes of Count Vidian. At least he went out fighting and not running. It was good to feel like a Jedi again, even if it was only for a little.

"Ah!" Vidian cried triumphantly, turning to look at the hologram of Captain Sloan as her image flickered above the room's holoprojector. "You're just in time. I'm about to pulverize Cynda. Keep your eyes on it, Captain. It should be magnificent."

"I am just in time, then," Sloane said, her voice cold and hard, and Kanan could feel hope well up inside him. "In the name of the Emperor, Count Vidian, this game of yours is over. You won't be destroying anything today."

"What?" Vidian snarled, anger and disbelief overtaking him, and Kanan almost laughed out loud. The Jedi had been betrayed, yes, but now, seeing this fiend be turned on, a product of his own ambition, was the sweetest thing in the world. "You cannot do this, Sloane! Stoop this foolishness this instant! You have been poisoned by there...rebels."

"I think not," she said, turning to the unseen officer out of frame. "Open fire on the Forager. Destroy that ship." An outraged, mechanical howl followed Captain Sloane as the com cut, leaving Kanan and Hera, the Twi'lek slowly coming to, alone in the room with a furious Count Vidian, his hateful eyes glaring at them as they lay between him and his exit. With a snarl of rage, Vidian stalked toward them, and Kanan tried to scramble to his feet, bracing himself for Vidian's wrath.

It never came.

Dropping down to stand between them and Vidian was another Mandalorian, his armor red and black, but this was not Cody. This one wore a helmet adorned with long, curved horns that swept back along the top of his head, his armor fused with robes black as night, and when he drew to his full height, Vidian stopped.

"Keep out of the way," the Mandalorian said, and Kanan's eyes widened when he heard the smooth, clipped accent. This was Cody's mysterious associate.

"Another one of your rebel friends?" Vidian snarled. "It is of no matter! It doesn't matter how many there are of you, you will all die anyway!"

"I think not," was all the Mandalorian said, his voice smooth and collected and unaffected by the rocking of the ship as it was bombarded by the Star Destroyer, the shields quickly faliing under the assault. With a howl of rage, Vidian rushed toward the man, and Kanan's eyes widened with shock when Vidian was suddenly thrown back against the glass of the walls, the thick material cracking under the weight of the hard, metal body, and the Count collapsed to the ground. Kanan and Hera both looked up at the man that stood before him, Hera in wonder and Kanan in fear. He hadn't even moved, and Kanan could feel the Force, cold as ice, rush to do the Mandalorian's bidding.

Vidian rose to his feet, his cybernetic eyes wide. "Jedi," he said, smooth and thick and greedy, but his opponent hadn't moved, only chuckled softly as he extended his hand, the hilt of a lightsaber flying from his belt to his palm.

"I'm really not," he said, and when the blade extended, red and blazing like fire and blood, Kanan didn't wait to see what would happen. He already knew the outcome, because he knew now what they were dealing with. That was a Sith Lord. He took Hera by the hand, new strength filling him, and ran from the room, pulling her behind him and not daring to look back.

The ship rocked under the bombardment of the Star Destroyer, walkways and catwalks falling, debris dropping all around, fires erupting from pipes and mechanics and everywhere, but Kanan paid it no mind. He just ran coming to a stop only when he found a row of escape pods. Perhaps Cody was somewhere still on the ship, but Kanan dare not look. He couldn't, not when he knew what it was that clone worked for. He should have known. With safety in sight, Kanan finally looked back toward the command center, and through the glass, he could see the Mandalorian, tall and intimidating and looking over the ship. Kanan's breath caught in his throat when, through the visor of the helmet, he could see two pinpoints of golden light glowing behind the mask, and he shivered, feeling the gaze pierce right through him.

"Kanan!" Hera's voice, loud and frantic, pulled him back to the moment, and everything seemed to slow down as he looked at her, the Twi'lek's eyes wide and fearful, and Kanan looked up to see burning rubble falling right toward them. Without thinking, he reached up, felt strength flow through him, warm and strong and familiar, and time returned to it's normal flow, Hera looking at Kanan awestruck as he held the burning metal up without even touching it, the Force coming to his aid without it even being called, his constant companion, and for the first time in a very long time, Kanan was grateful to have it.

They moved quickly and Kanan dropped the burning heap, and he quickly grabbed the gawking Hera's arm and threw her inside the escape pod, climbing in quickly after her and striking the control console, the doors hissing closed, and the thrusters roaring, and a moment later, it launched.

"But..." Hera started to say, gawking and pointing at the man beside her as he looked out the viewport to see the Forager in flames, explosions erupting along its length as it was destroyed. "But you're-"

"Shh," Kanan said, putting his finger to her lips and smiling softly. "Don't tell anyone." She nodded, her eyes bright and excited, and silently mouthed, You're a Jedi! Kanan didn't say anything. He didn't need to. He sat on the ground, exhausted, and ran a hand over his face. Everything hurt. Slowly, Hera sat beside him.

"So..." she said, smiling, "we saved a moon and a planet. Not bad work for one day."

"Yeah, tell me about it..."

"I hope Saluna and Skelly are alright," she said, looking out as the ship exploded into a bloom of flames.

"...they're alright." Hera didn't question how Kanan knew. That's what Jedi did. They just knew.

"...what was that thing?" she asked softly, and Kanan shook his head.

"Nothing we want to mess with," he said darkly. "Nothing any good." Hera nodded and didn't press the issue. Knowing this about Kanan, knowing he was old enough to have survived the Jedi Purge...it explained a lot about his behavior, and she couldn't help but feel her respect for him climb. Her feeling had been right. There was something more to Kanan Jarrus.

"So," she said, breaking the silence between them, and Kanan couldn't help but smile, "what will you do now? If you don't have plans," she added quickly, "I have a ship, and she needs more than one person to run it right. Think you're up for it?"

Kanan looked at her for a moment, then smiled warmly. "I'm up for anything you can throw at me, dearest."

Hera grinned, a faint, mischievous look in her eye that made Kanan remember why he was so captivated by her. "Well, Kanan Jarrus," she drawled. "Welcome to the Ghost."

For Kanan, a man on the run for so long, a Jedi forced into hiding, forced to deny what he was, he finally felt at home.