A/N: Sorry it's been a while since an update. I have really been struggling with this chapter, but now that I've worked some things out hopefully the next section (Finding Ezra) will go well. I have decided to do a different "Finding Ezra" and veer away from just a rehashing of what happened in the episode in order to do something more original, but that's for the next chapter.

In this chapter, Master Billaba makes an appearance. Force ghost and all of that. If you want more info or a more detailed look at her as a Force ghost, I have another story called "Chalactan Roses" that goes with this "universe." It's rated M for suicide attempt, so it doesn't appear in the regular stories, but maybe you'll like it. Hope you like this update. I worked really hard on this one. And to my guest that asked if I write for this show in real life...Ha! I wish. I could only be so lucky... but thank you very much for the compliment. I treasure it. :)

21.

Months went by, and Hera's team developed a unique synchronicity. Whether it was running an op, smuggling for some sleazy low-life, or simply training together, it was as if they had been a team for years. Once, on Kothal a job stealing a shipment of ration packs had gone wrong. They'd been moving the crates to the Ghost, which was in a nearby part of the spaceport, when they'd run into a squad of heavily armed bucketheads that knew they were there. Somehow, Hera had known to leave their rendezvous point and show up to provide air support even before Kanan commed her. As a result of her timely pick-up, they were able to get away with everything they'd lifted.

Such skin-of-their-teeth victories proved to be the rule, rather than the exception. Kanan tried to tell himself that they were special, that they couldn't be defeated, but deep down, he knew it was a delusion to indulge in such thinking. The idea that something could jeopardize the lives of the Ghost's crew—his new family—had become a nagging maze of thought in the back of his mind and he pushed it away before he could get lost in it. They would be safe. He would make sure of it.

He distracted himself with training Sabine. Both he and Zeb were amazed by the former cadet's abilities. She was a dead shot with any blaster. Zeb had even let her try some target practice with the bo-rifle and she shot it like she'd been born holding one. After realizing her facility with both small and larger arms, they'd spent most of their time working with her on hand-to-hand combat. She wasn't as used to fighting in close quarters, preferring to hit trouble before it got close enough to throw a punch, so their tutelage was helpful.

She'd had the basics down, but sparring with Zeb and Kanan gave her a chance to discover the best ways to defeat a larger opponent. The girl was a fast study. And she wasn't the only one learning. Zeb and Kanan had focused on picking up Imperial tactics from Sabine. Kanan had a pretty good sense of what the Imps were likely to do in most situations, but some things had changed since he was last on the battlefield. Sabine was familiar with new buckethead standard operating procedure and it went a long way toward making her feel needed by her new teammates.

"That's enough for today." Kanan was watching Sabine break Zeb's hold. He could tell from her futile effort that she was getting tired; they'd been working for more than an hour.

Finally she twisted, elbowed Zeb in the chest and knocked the wind out of him. He let her go as he stumbled back.

"Nice job." Kanan said as she walked over, grabbed a towel, wiped her face and slung it around her neck.

She looked over her shoulder and grinned at Zeb. "Winner gets the shower first." She called, sprinting back up into the Ghost.

"Karablast." Zeb growled, sinking down to rest on the ship's ramp as he grabbed the canteen of water.

"Giving you a run for your money?" Kanan asked, raising an eyebrow at the Lasat.

"Are you sure you're not training her behind my back?"

Kanan didn't try to hide his grin. "Nope. I did give her a few tips, though."

"I knew you were a cheater." Zeb pretended to be irritated, but he couldn't hide his half-grin.

"Nope. I'm a winner." Kanan teased automatically, then looked out at the orange sky of Malastare. They were parked in a spaceport in Staren City, the largest city on the planet. As he thought about it, his face soured. This place was full of sleazy types who came here to bet on the planet's famous podraces, and then gamble and drink themselves unconscious when they were done.

This place was dangerous for him. He had been well aware that the anniversary of his Master's death had been creeping up, but he'd pushed it away, spending more and more time trying to meditate away the throbbing anxiety that was growing too big to handle. If he wasn't meditating, he was clinging to Hera's side as a shadow, trying to soak up her presence to ward off the black depression that rumbled in the distance like storm clouds.

He was better than he had been around this same time every year, and he credited it to Hera's influence. At least he wasn't in the corner of some dive so drunk he couldn't remember his name. Or flirting with the idea of sticking a blaster to his temple and pulling the trigger. He'd been both places before, more than once, and neither of them were pretty. Force only knew what had saved him from himself.

Best case scenario was for them to get as far away from here as possible before...tomorrow. Then he wanted to just hunker down for a day—close his eyes until his inner weather cleared. There was just too much temptation here...too many bars...too many ways to find oblivion at the bottom of a bottle or with something worse. It was with a monumental effort that he sounded casual when asking his question. "Um...how long did Hera say we're stopping off here?"

"Two days. We're supposed to meet this friend of Vizago's...he's gonna take those ration packs off of our hands for a pretty good profit. She told us at dinner last night." Right. She'd told him, but he'd been so distracted he'd forgotten.

Kanan gave a slight nod as he looked down, scuffing his boot into the brown soil.

"Must be gettin' a little hard of hearin' in your old age." Zeb punched Kanan lightly in the shoulder as he got up and headed inside.

Kanan snorted, seeming as if he was laughing with Zeb, but as soon as the Lasat's back was turned, the smile dropped from his face. Two days. Kriff. He should spill the whole thing to Hera right now, he thought. Tell her the struggle he was going through and why. He actually stood up to go inside and find her, but he stopped on the ramp. Hera would worry and leave before their meet with Vizago's friend, and that would be bad for everyone. They needed the money. No. He could do this, right?

A queasy feeling in his gut told him there was no certain answer for that question. He moodily looked up at the now reddish-purple sky, then followed Zeb inside.

He was a kid again. He sat upon a familiar wind-swept ledge of rock, looking down at the shining holocron in his hand. The light of the nearby fire was warm and comforting, but he knew it would not last for long. It never did in these dreams. The nightmare was usually about the same every time, although it started in different places and sometimes ended early or was tortuously long. Like the child he resembled, he buried his head against his knees and squeezed his eyes tightly shut in preparation for what he knew was to come.

"Caleb." Her voice. Sometimes he heard her speak to him and sometimes he didn't. This time, her voice was different. The rich tones seemed to stir something in him, as if her voice was not just a memory, but something...more.

He felt her hand on his arm, squeezing it almost painfully. Stubbornly, he pressed his face against his knees and refused to look up…as if refusing to acknowledge the nightmare could banish it.

"No." He murmured. "No more. I can't..."

"Focus, padawan." She placed a hand on his head, smoothing his hair; with the gesture, she finally shattered the repetitive spell of the dream and he looked up in surprise. "Focus on me."

He couldn't do anything but focus. Focus on her warm brown eyes, the gentle curve of her face, the gold Lesser and Greater Marks of Illumination on her brow. The warmth of the Force-bond they shared began to flare and he marveled at the slight brush of her presence in his mind, filling a void that had remained vacant for too long. He wanted to throw his arms around her, to save her, to warn her, to beg her to run now, before it was too late. And most of all, he ached to tell her he was sorry. The shreds of his guilt began to claw at his heart and he shook his head, unable to speak. She held her hand out to him, and led him away from the scene that would so soon turn to blood and death.

They stopped at a rise of another cliff, overlooking their camp. It was here that they had practiced form three, earlier in this memory. She turned to face him, the wind whipping at her robes and braids.

"I don't have much time," she began as she studied his face intently. Her serious look melted into a smile as she reached out and placed a hand against his cheek—the way she always had when showing her affection for him. "I am happy to see you once again. It has been too long."

His brow crinkled in confusion, but once again, he couldn't seem to speak. In these nightmares he was always fighting or fleeing and they were never this close. But now-now...he was close enough to see the gold flecks in the amber of her irises and to see the shine of the moon on her brown hair. He was drinking in the sight and sound of her, recalling a thousand memories that he'd pushed away and attempted to erase. He missed her, he realized as he fought back tears. Force, how he had missed her! How was she here like this? How was it that he could feel the warmth of her presence along their bond once more?

She allowed her hand to slip from his face to his shoulder, and intently regarded him, the way he remembered she would look when imparting a lesson he should remember. "Caleb...you must move past this sorrow. Your love for what was is valuable and should not be suppressed...but you must conquer this fear and sadness, padawan. It threatens your connection to the Force."

"I can't." He whispered. His words were ripped away by the wind, but she heard them.

Her amber eyes seemed to glow with sympathy in the dim light. "I know, but you have to try." She wrapped her arms around him tightly, and he clung to her, pressing his face against her Jedi robes. His tears dampened the plain, rough fabric that smelled like her favorite flower, Chalactan rose.

"I'm sorry. I...I shouldn't have left you. It's my f-f-fault..." He was shuddering with sobs, barely able to speak. "Please...f...for...forgive...me."

He felt her kiss the top of his head and squeeze him more tightly. "No...no….my padawan. It was the will of the Force, not your fault. You were never to blame for what happened. Let this guilt go. It's ripping you apart."

"I can't," he wailed, knowing he sounded like a pitiful youngling. He could feel the wind pick up, lashing them mercilessly and it only made him hold her more tightly.

She soothed him while his grief spent itself. When his sobs slowed, she relaxed her arms around him, but he held on stubbornly to her, refusing to let even this dream version of her go. "Caleb. I don't have long. Being here too long will drain the both of us. Please...listen." She gently disentangled herself from his grip, but placed one hand on each side of his face and knelt in front of him.

Her first words were ripped away by the howling wind which was still increasing. She tried again, as there was a lull. "There's...another like you. He is young." She looked around in frustration, as she noticed the dream was changing with her student's shifting emotions. The flash of white trooper armor caught her eye; all the clones stood up as if they had one mind. The faceless helmets turned toward them-the soldier's movements horrifying in their synchronicity. Her eyes drew his own and he paled as he saw them, but she pulled his gaze away. "No. Look just at me. Listen. Another will come who is strong with the Force, padawan."

He shook his head, tears blinding his vision and confusion darkening his mind. What was she saying? They were coming. They had to run—he thought as the claws of the dream tried to fasten in him once again.

"The boy, Caleb. Alone like you. Watch for him. He is going to change everything" Her hands squeezed his shoulders. "Understand? The boy. Watch for him."

He nodded, even though he didn't understand. "I will."

She smiled radiantly. "Good. Now..." She nodded beyond him, at the clones that were now creeping up the hill. "You must go." She stood and ripped her saber from her belt; its green light shone more brightly than it ever had in real life.

"No-"

Her eyes flashed the way they did before a really big battle, and he saw the anticipation in her face. The Force gathered around her in a shimmering pulse. "This is only a dream, Caleb. An echo of a past that's gone. You must let it go." She gently pushed him behind her and swung her saber, cutting down a nameless figure in armor.

"I can't..." He reached to his own belt, fumbling for his weapon in a panic.

She cut down two more figures and and turned to him, placing a hand on his shoulder and looking deeply into his eyes. He felt the warmth of the Force in her touch. "Yes, you can. You will let this nightmare go, my padawan. It will trouble you no more." She leaned forward and pressed her forehead against his own for a brief moment. "Now GO." She made a motion towards him and pushed with the Force and . . .

. . .he opened his eyes, sitting up immediately and sucking in a breath like he'd just resurfaced from underwater. He looked around the room, but saw no one. He was crouched in Hera's bunk, against the back of it, every muscle in his body taut and ready. "Kriff." He muttered, sitting back and wiping his face. His hands came away wet with sweat and tears. He realized he could still smell the heavy traces of spicy Chalactan roses in the room and it caused a swift ache of loss in his heart. With that familiar scent shimmering in the room, he knew that she'd really been there. Somehow, his master had been there.

All of a sudden, the door swept open and Hera burst in, followed by Zeb.

"Kanan! W-What's going on? Are you okay?"

She met his gaze and immediately knew he wasn't okay. His watery blue-green eyes were so large they seemed to glow in the semi-darkness. It looked like he had seen a ghost.

"Yes. No. I'm not sure." Kanan's blasted expression stared right through both of them. He shook his head helplessly, his unblinking eyes taking them both in.

Zeb recognized the blank look in Kanan's eyes, because he'd observed it in warriors on Lasan who had seen too much. He'd had the look himself, for a long time after Lasan. He remembered how it was to wake up from nightmares that were all too vivid, not knowing what was real and what was not. "Kanan, you with us?" He asked softly, watching Kanan's eyes take in the room. In his mind, he coaxed Kanan on. Say yes, he thought.

The Jedi didn't react for a long moment, as though he had to think about it.

Finally he nodded.

Hera looked around the room, her eyes widening as she took in the fading ghost of a floral scent. She saw Zeb's head tilt up as he caught the scent as well. It was strange, but not as strange as what had just happened. "Everything in the ship just...shuddered like a shock wave hit the ship. It didn't come from outside. It came from...here, according to Chopper. Did you do that?"

"I don't think so." He replied haltingly, looking around with wide eyes. He needed time to process what had happened in the dream before he could even attempt to explain it to them.

Sabine's sleepy eyes appeared, peering around Zeb. "Have we entered hyperspace? I felt a lurch."

Zeb sensed that this was probably not the time to crowd Kanan. He felt more comfortable leaving that part of this to Hera for now. "Everything's okay. Let's give them a minute, kit." Zeb led her out, leaving Kanan and Hera alone.

For long moments, Kanan concentrated on the place in his mind where he'd felt the bond he'd had with his master. There were only the faintest traces of her presence, which were even now fading into nothingness again. "I don't know what that was..."

"It's okay." Hera soothed, moving so that their bodies were touching side by side as she sat on the bunk. She took his large hand into her own and he leaned into her body warmth gratefully. "You don't have to..."

"Order 66. Empire day..." He murmured as an explanation. "It's tomorrow."

Her eyes went wide. "Kriff!" She hadn't realized that it had come again so soon. Last time it had been a bad day for him; he had disappeared and come back as inebriated as a being could get and still live. She'd promised herself to keep an eye on him this next time. "I'm sorry, I should have realized…" she said simply. He hadn't been himself for a few days, now that she thought about it. For the past few days, He'd spent more time following her around the ship like a shadow, as well as sleeping more than usual. In fact, earlier tonight, he'd turned in early, claiming to be exhausted from his late afternoon sparring match with Sabine. She should have known something was wrong.

"No. Not your fault." He shook his head and squeezed her hand. "The nightmares...they just get bad around this time."

"So...that's what that was? A nightmare?" She studied his features, still holding his hand.

"I don't know. I dreamed about her again, but it was different."

"Depa Billaba?" Hera clarified. "Your master?"

He turned to her, his eyes suddenly watery again. He nodded, focused on something far away. "I could feel her...presence. It's not...usually there in the dream, but it was… this time…it was strong. I could feel the bond between us. Now it's...it's gone." He was exhausted, as if the dream had used every bit of Force-energy he had.

"Was it really her? Like a ghost?"

He shook his head. "I don't know. We were taught that beings that died were absorbed by the Force, becoming one with it. Maybe she was able to find a way..." He stood up, and began pacing the room. After a few moments, he spoke again. "She made me promise to look for someone."

"Look for someone?"

"A kid. A boy strong with the Force." They regarded each other for a moment.

"Like in your vision…" she said what they'd both just realized. Hera thought back to the moment that Kanan had unknowingly revealed there was one more to be added to their crew. All of it had to be a sign. "Okay, so we'll keep our eyes open for any Force-sensitive kids." Hera spoke, trying to give him confidence. He was shaken and she wasn't sure what to do to put his feet back on solid ground.

He laughed harshly. "What am I supposed to do? Train him?"

"Maybe…"

"It would be a disaster. Hera, I'm hardly trained myself." His next words were low. "I have enough trouble keeping myself on the right path. I'd do more harm than good."

"I don't think so." Hera replied. She walked forward to take both his hands. He shook his head and looked away. "You might be the perfect one to save someone who might otherwise be lost. Listen to me-" He had laughed harshly again, but she reached up and, hand on his cheek, turned his gaze to her own. "You've been where there's no path. You've survived and become...so much more than you once were." He didn't answer her, so she went on. "Think about it. Just promise me you'll do that...if we run across the kid."

He shook his head, clearly uncomfortable with all of this. "You're wrong about me." He knew it was true, but there was...there was a tiny part of him that thought she might be right. A tiny part that wanted her to be right. But that was ridiculous. Wasn't it?

"Promise me we'll talk about it if we run across the boy." She was clearly not about to take no for an answer, so he reluctantly nodded, throwing his hands up in mock surrender.

"You are stubborn, Hera Syndulla."

"One of these days, you're going to realize that I'm usually right, too." She kept a light tone to her voice as they made their way back to the bed, but she was still worried about him. The memory of the last time he'd suffered through this alone hadn't left her mind, and she was going to make damn sure that he wasn't alone anymore. She thought about calling off their meeting with Vizago's contact. "Look, love. We can cancel this meet and go hang out in a quiet little corner of the rim for a while..." Force knew that the Empire Day celebration on Malastare would be off the charts, and that was the last thing he needed now.

He shook his head. "No!" He continued on in a softer voice. "No. I'm fine." He sat on the bed and ran a hand through his dark mass of hair.

"Okay." She laid a hand on his shoulder. "Settle in. I'll be right back after I let the crew know that everything's ok." His nod made her feel a little better, and she silently renewed her promise to keep a sharp eye on him for the next few days.

She turned to go, but he reached out and captured her hand in his own. "Thanks, Hera."

"None needed, love." She squeezed his hand in return and between them, nothing else needed to be said.