Episode 2
Warnings: Canon-typical violence/alien beast killing, beginnings of some fluffy romantic angst, mentions of bodies/weight (with the goal of talking positively about weight gain)
Summary: You, Kanan's young (adult) female padawan, are having a hard time adjusting to your new life aboard the Ghost, particularly when you find out that your master, for whom you have complicated feelings, wants to find another Jedi to teach you (reminder—in this AU, there is nothing romantic between Kanan and Hera)
You sat on the hard ground, your legs folded, your back straight, in proper form. Your eyes were closed. You breathed in.
"Focus," Kanan told you, his voice ringing in your ears as if he were speaking to you from inside a cone of glass. You breathed, focusing all of your energy on the ground beneath you. You reached out, feeling without your fingers. You felt the rock, the sand, the dirt, felt through it all to what sat on top of it. You felt as if you were the ground. You could feel blades of grass growing through you. You could feel your own weight, could feel Kanan's weight, could feel his heart beating through his ankles as he sat. You could feel every stone. Slowly, tentatively, you began to channel this energy. You heard the hum of the ever-living Force as you felt the pebbles and stones around you beginning to lift. You smiled.
"Y/N," you heard Kanan say, and you snapped your eyes open.
For just a moment, you saw the stones of Lothal floating all around you, enclosing you and Kanan in a cylinder of debris. Then your eyes focused on the sea green irises in front of you, that warm, familiar presence in the Force, and you felt all of the stones drop, felt your connection to the ground and the grass passing out of you. You sighed, annoyed.
"You're doing great, Y/N. You just need to learn to keep your focus." Kanan smiled encouragingly at you, and you felt the beginnings of sweat begin to prickle under your arms, your face growing hot. You knew the reason you were having a problem with focusing, but you wouldn't admit it, not even to yourself.
"Did you SEE that? Did you see what Y/N just did?" You heard Sabine yell triumphantly from behind you, where she sat on the Ghost's open ramp. Chopper beeped.
"Eh," Zeb said reluctantly. "I've seen stuff float before." He stood atop the Ghost's gunner, fixing one of the turning anchors.
"Don't listen to him," Sabine said to you, running down into the grass, closer to where you and Kanan were sitting. "That was totally insane."
"Thanks, Sabine," you said, smiling at her and taking the hand she offered to help you up out of your seated position.
The last two months had been the happiest months you'd had since...since you were small. Since your parents had disappeared. You would never admit it, particularly not to Zeb, but the feeling of being in a crew like this—the feeling of being part of a team, of forming real connections—lit within you a devastating warmth, a fire and energy you hadn't known in years. It was a feeling you knew to fear, because you knew what it meant to have a family, and to lose one. Chopper beeped again from the top of the ramp.
"Chop says dinner's ready," Kanan translated, standing up and making for the Ghost.
"Chopper made dinner?" you asked, laughing.
"Hey, even a Loth weasel could rehydrate Tawl beans," Sabine joked, hooking an arm around your neck.
"Tawl beans? Great," Zeb said sarcastically, jumping down from the gunner to enter the ship with the rest of the crew.
"Guess it's time for another supply run soon," Kanan said, pressing the button to raise the ramp once everyone was inside. You made your way to the main hull, sitting around the table with Sabine and Zeb while Chopper, that roguish bundle of wires and metal, pressed the buttons on the rehydrater to pour out helpings of the flavorful, nutrient-rich beans into bowls. As Kanan passed these around, you noticed once again that your helping was the largest by far, larger even than Zeb's. You said nothing. You knew that Kanan had instructed the entire crew to serve you extra food, knew that he had done so with good intentions, but it had been two months. You could admit that you had gained some much-needed weight and muscle since you'd joined the ghost crew. Your days of scavenging being over, you were finally receiving three solid, nutritious meals a day, and you had watched as your body filled in certain places, grew tighter and stronger in others from the daily training exercises Kanan put you through. Still, Kanan's insistence on making sure you had enough to eat, and his cautious, watchful eye, made you feel a little uncomfortable. You worried that maybe he thought you were the weak link—that maybe he saw you only as a child, someone that needed to be cared for, watched. You were not a child, anymore, and you didn't want him to think you were scrawny, or fragile.
As if sensing your train of thought, Kanan looked at you curiously, and you worked to place a contented-feeling lens over your Force presence, keeping your face inexpressive as you began to eat your Tawl beans with the rest of the crew. Over the past two months, you'd trained almost daily with the illustrious Jedi, and you'd grown very fond of him. A bit too fond, you thought, and you forced the idea out of your brain once again, making sure to keep your Force block heavy. As his padawan, you admired Kanan for so many reasons—his strength, his gentle energy, his empathy, his leadership and care for the rest of the crew. You'd developed a very close bond in friendship with him, and it was this bond that threatened you now. A bond as strong as the one developing between the two of you, master and padawan, meant that Kanan was very sensitive to your changes in energy—your thoughts, feelings. You, in turn, could readily intuit Kanan's changes in mood. Of course, Kanan could not read your thoughts—for this you were very grateful—but he could feel your unease, your fear of failure, your insecurity as you navigated both your training and your adjustment to life within this group of extraordinary individuals. In some ways, it was difficult being so in tune with Kanan. In other ways, ways you wouldn't admit even to yourself, you craved this closeness. You wanted more.
"We have an incoming transmission," Hera told the crew, coming into the hull from the cockpit. "From Commander Sato." Hera took the only remaining bowl of beans and sat, placing the long-distance comm in the middle of the table. Commander Sato's grainy hologram projected from the small device.
"Rebels," the commander began, "we are in dire need of your assistance. A fleet departed from the squadron to deliver supplies to the base on Atollon, led by Fulcrum herself, two days ago." The commander paused, clearing his throat. "They never made it to Atollon. We don't know where they are." Sato turned to face Kanan, who lowered his bowl, straightening. "We have no way of tracking them," Sato said, "and we require...special assistance." Kanan nodded.
"I can't guarantee that we will be able to find them," Kanan said, "but we will do our best."
"Thank you," the commander replied formally, saluting the Jedi, and then Hera. "Contact us again when you can, Captain Syndulla."
"We will," Hera told him, before the transmission cut off, and the hologram disappeared.
"Guess the supply run will have to wait," Zeb said, eyeing his Tawl beans scornfully.
"Who's Fulcrum?" you asked, curious, lowering your bowl to the table.
Zeb snorted. "That's need to know."
"Yeah, and we don't even know," Sabine said, looking from Kanan to Hera.
"Fulcrum is our contact from within the wider galactic rebellion," Hera told you. "Her identity is kept secret for all our sakes." You nodded, narrowing your eyes. You didn't like secrets.
"Finish your beans," Kanan told you, getting up to return to his quarters. You scowled. You knew that Kanan watched over you out of care, but he spoke as if he would to a child, and this frustrated you. You reluctantly did as he instructed, finishing the bowl before putting it into the dish refresher and returning to your bunk. Sabine followed you.
"I don't know about you, but I'm feeling inspired," Sabine said, scoping the walls of the room you shared, looking for blank space that hadn't yet been painted on, drawn on, or colored in some way.
"I don't share the sentiment," you said, throwing yourself onto your bunk in an irritated silence.
"What? Why?" Sabine asked you, sitting down on the edge of your bed, situated beneath hers. "Your training is going so well. That rock thing was the coolest—"
"Training is going fine," you said, cutting her off and massaging your temples. "But Kanan doesn't trust me. He's watching over me like I'm about to break, at any second." You sighed. "And neither does Hera. She won't tell me who Fulcrum is, and I have this weird sense..." you paused, thinking hard, "I have this weird sense about Fulcrum. I'm not sure what it means."
Sabine put a bracing hand on your arm. "Kanan and Hera trust you fully. I know it's frustrating, the Fulcrum secrecy," Sabine laughed, "but we need to trust Hera, in that respect. At least when it comes to the inner workings of the rebellion." Sabine looked at you and smiled, a bit of a playful smile, and continued. "And Kanan...well, I could say that's just the way that he is, but..." Sabine grinned a bit too widely. You held your breath. "I mean, I don't understand any of that Jedi stuff," she backtracked. "Maybe you should talk to him about it yourself."
This thought was nerve-wracking, but then again, you were never one to back down from anyone, not even Kanan. You nodded in agreement, standing up.
"Go easy on him, though," Sabine said, laughing at your expression. She appreciated having another girl on board, a girl close to her age, a girl more temperamental and volatile than Zeb and Chopper combined.
"I have no idea what you mean," you said, raising your nose in the air, and you left Sabine laughing in your room, striding across the hallway to Kanan's quarters.
"Come in," you heard him say, before you'd knocked. You knew what Zeb meant. Jedi could be annoying. You pressed the button on the side panel to open the door.
You found Kanan in a kneeled position, his eyes closed, the holocron open in front of him. Its many pieces floated around, in the middle them a mess of stars, a blurry universe in which you couldn't make out specific shapes.
"What are you doing with the holocron?" You asked inquisitively, pressing the button to close the door behind you.
"I'm searching," Kanan responded, keeping his eyes closed. "Searching for Fulcrum."
This interested you. "The holocron can find people?" You asked, your eyes wide, as you kneeled down on its other side, facing Kanan.
"Some people," Kanan responded. "The workings of the holocron are illusive...ever-changing. Much like the Force." He opened his eyes, to look at you, and when he did, the holocron snapped back into its shape.
"Fulcrum is a Jedi Knight. Or, at least, someone who was once a Jedi..." Kanan said. You raised your eyebrows involuntarily. "A Jedi named Ahsoka Tano."
"Why are you telling me this, if you haven't told Sabine and Zeb?" you asked, genuinely curious.
"Because I know you're frustrated, Y/N." Your breath stopped in your throat as Kanan spoke. "And I know why." You looked at him, startled. He knew...what? That you wanted him to see you as an equal? That you wanted him to recognize your strength, your resilience? That you wanted him to regard you with less caution, less care, regard you as he would Hera, or Sabine, or Zeb? Perhaps that you wanted him to regard you as more than he would the rest of his crew? That you wanted...you pushed the thoughts again out of your mind, strengthening the mask over your Force presence.
"I worry that I won't be able to teach you much longer," Kanan continued, and at this, your heart dropped through the floor of the Ghost, to the ground below. "You're growing so strong, so fast...it's difficult. I'm telling you of Ahsoka's existence because I believe she might be a more fitting master for you. I believe she might be able to train you in ways I cannot."
You listened to his words, clinging to your Force mask, but it was difficult. You felt tears forming behind your eyes, but you willed them not to spill. Not yet. He didn't want to train you. He didn't want to train you because he didn't care for you, at least, not in the way you cared for him. He could never care for you, like that. He wanted to dump you off on some other Jedi. He was sick of having you on his crew, sick of trying to make sure you were strong enough, annoyed at having to watch over you. Your stomach churned, a ball of fire in your throat. You didn't feel you could speak, or else the fire would spill out into your mouth, into your eyes, the tears threatening to flow.
"Y/N? Are you all right?" Kanan asked, but you would not look at him.
"Yes," you managed. "I just need to process this." You were amazed at how steady your words sounded, how emotionless, how casual. You'd always had the gift of manipulating your voice. You supposed at least some of your Force abilities might prove useful.
"Of course," Kanan said, nodding to you that you may leave, and without a glance back at him, you plunged yourself out of his quarters, walking quickly to the ladder to the lower deck. As you descended to your hiding place, your Force block fell away, and you let the tears fall.
"Are you sure these are the right coordinates?" Hera asked Kanan, sitting in the pilot's seat, him in the co-pilot's.
"No," Kanan said honestly, "but it's a lead. There's some kind of Force wrinkle there. We should be ready for anything."
"Prepare to leave," Hera said over the ship's comms, instructing the rest of her crew into position. Kanan performed his few co-pilot duties as the ship took off, and then sat back, deep in thought.
He didn't want to have to stop your training. The thought of finding Ahsoka, of leaving you with her, made his mouth go dry, made him want to run from the room. But it was the only way—he'd sensed your frustration at his training, sensed that you knew your abilities far outstripped his. And in almost all ways, they did. While Kanan could teach you what he'd learned of the Force, the Jedi ways of old, your ability to wield it and to harness its power far exceeded his own. You were stronger than even you knew. Kanan had meditated and meditated, and he could see no other alternative—you needed a better teacher than him. You needed someone who could keep up with you.
"You hanging in, Spectre 1?" Hera asked, looking over at Kanan, whose hands were over his eyes.
"Hanging in just fine, Spectre 2." Kanan looked out the viewport at hyperspace as it flashed by. He knew he must let go of his own feelings, knew he must forgo attachments. He thought back over the last few months he'd had with you, how you had grown sturdier, so strong, so healthy, right in front of him. He'd seen you work through and master skills in the Force that had taken him years in mere days. He dwelled for a moment on the memory of your face, triumphant, when you'd opened your eyes to find that you'd floated the entire Ghost up into the air. Your eyes had shown so brightly. You'd been so pleased.
Kanan rapidly pushed his thoughts and feelings away. He knew what was best for you, knew what was best for your training, and he mustn't let his own feelings get in the way.
"Coming out of hyperspace in 3...2..." Hera spoke over the comms. The ship emerged, somewhere in deep space, revealing in front of them the form of a freighter that looked as if it had no power.
"That's Fulcrum's ship," Hera said, looking puzzled.
"Something's wrong," Kanan said, his Force presence snapping into focus.
"Prepare to board," Hera said over the comms, hurrying out of the cockpit, Kanan behind her.
"I'm sensing—" you said to Kanan as the crew ran to get in position at the back of the ship.
"I know," Kanan replied, understanding that you both had sensed the same disturbance.
"So we're just willingly walking into danger, no planning, no backup?" You asked, your voice full of snark.
"Just like we always do!" Hera said brightly. "Chopper, open the gate."
The ghost crew inched forward onto the freighter. It looked deserted—the lights were out, and except for a flicker and spark here and there, all was quiet. The crew continued through the hallway, looking at each other. They'd all noticed the state of the ship—that panels were broken everywhere, the metals of parts of the wall pulled back, lights broken.
"Was this the scene of a fight?" You whispered.
"Not a fight with blasters," Hera whispered back, examining the torn metal on the floors and walls.
"Not a great sign," Zeb said, a bit too loudly. Before it happened, you and Kanan both turned quickly, watching as the large, clawed creature jumped toward Zeb's back. Kanan, his lightsaber drawn faster than visible to the eye, cut it to pieces, the large growl escaping its lips causing everyone to turn in shock.
"Gundarks!" Hera shouted, as two more of them ran through the ship's abandoned hallway toward the crew. Kanan saw you draw your lightsaber, thanking his stars that you had found that kyber crystal. He heard blasts from behind him as Sabine, Hera, and Zeb shot at the beasts, Chopper squealing wildly. Though the blasters were able to kill the two monsters, from behind them he heard more rumbling forward.
"Run!" Zeb yelled, and the crew didn't need telling twice. Kanan brought up the rear, panting, following his crew out of this hallway and into the next.
"In here!" he heard you yell, and the crew tumbled into a storage closet, Kanan waving the door closed behind him.
"How in blazes did Gundarks get aboard a ship in deep space?" Sabine squeaked, removing her helmet.
"That is concerning. But more pressing is the matter of the crew. Are there not any survivors?" Hera asked, looking around at Kanan.
"And where's Fulcrum?" Zeb asked, Chopper beeping his agreement.
"It would take more than Gundarks to kill a Jedi," you said, a moment seeming to pass before you'd realized your mistake.
"A JEDI?!" both Sabine and Zeb yelled.
"Well, I guess we know Y/N can't keep a secret," Kanan said, looking at you sternly. You squirmed.
"Whoops?" you said, shrugging. Kanan saw through your innocent mask. You didn't like secrets, he knew.
"We should split up," Hera said, "and look for survivors. Kanan, you, Sabine, and Chop will search the starboard side of the ship. Y/N, Zeb, and I will search the other side."
"But—" Kanan started, looking wildly at you, and back to Hera. Kanan noticed you scowl.
"We need a lightsaber in both groups. They're the most effective weapons against creatures this large," Hera said, her mind always on the tactical advantage.
"Fine," Kanan said, "let's go."
The crew crept out of the storage locker.
"Keep quiet," Sabine said, "Gundarks can hear you before they see you."
You put up a hand in understanding, and then followed Hera and Zeb down the corridor, Kanan watching you go.
"I don't know why you worry about her," Sabine said. "She's on her way to becoming our best fighter."
"Shh," Kanan responded, leading Sabine and Chopper in the other direction. They walked quietly over the first floor, climbing a ladder to the next.
"So, Fulcrum's a Jedi, eh?" Sabine said, unable to help herself.
"Not now, Sabine," Kanan responded, trying to keep his senses alert.
"I just thought, you know—"
But what Sabine thought was quickly cut off by a growl, so close to her head Chopper squealed and beeped. The blur of the lightsaber illuminated the hallway, completely filled with Gundarks. Sabine started to blast them, but one of the beasts knocked her blaster out of her hand. Kanan worked quickly and tirelessly, defending Sabine and Chopper from the attacks. They kept coming. There were so many of them. Y/N, Kanan thought, a lump in his stomach, and then—
Two white blades illuminated the hallway from the opposite end. And all Kanan and Sabine could do was watch in amazement as the Togruta flew through the air, swiping her lightsabers quickly, back and forth, back and forth, spinning around until every Gundark was slain.
"Boy is it good to see you," Kanan said, astounded.
"Kanan," Ahsoka nodded in recognition.
"Our friends," Sabine piped up from behind Kanan's shoulder. "We need to find them—"
"Follow me," Ahsoka said, walking quickly and quietly through the hallway filled with dead beasts. Kanan, Sabine, and Chopper followed.
"I know what you've come here to ask me, Kanan Jarrus." Ahsoka spoke as she walked, without turning around.
"You do?" Kanan asked, surprised.
"I do. But I'm afraid I cannot train the girl."
Sabine gasped, looking at Kanan.
"Ahsoka, you don't understand," Kanan said, catching up to the Togruta and hurrying alongside her. "She's so strong in the Force. I'm worried there isn't much more I can teach her."
"I sense there is something larger at work here," Ahsoka replied. "But my decision is final. It is the will of the Force. You must be the one to train her."
Part of Kanan felt disappointed, but, if he were being honest with himself, a larger part of him felt elated. You'd get to stay. You would stay with him, on the Ghost. He wouldn't have to say goodbye to you, after all.
"If that is your decision," Kanan said respectfully, "then I accept that." The group heard the sound of growls up ahead, and sped up. When they turned the corner, they came upon a familiar scene—you stood guard in front of Hera and Zeb, their blasters broken on the ground, swinging your lightsaber around, killing Gundarks left and right.
"I guess they didn't need our help after all," Ahsoka said, giving Kanan a knowing look.
You wiped your brow, the corpse of the last Gundark lying at your feet.
"Impressive," you heard an unfamiliar voice say. You looked around. There were Kanan, Sabine, and Chopper, and a face you didn't know, though, now that you regarded her, it felt as if you'd seen her face in a dream.
"You must be Ahsoka Tano," you said, smiling, and then your smile wavered. You remembered that Kanan had come here to pass you off.
"I'm happy to make your acquaintance, Y/N," Ahsoka responded. You wondered how she already knew your name.
"Ahsoka, how did these Gundarks get aboard?" Hera asked.
"I'm not sure. It does seem that someone is trying to make our shipment's failure look like an accident," Ahsoka said, surveying the damage. "The crew is hiding in the command center. I've been sneaking around, trying to fix our comms to send a transmission, but—"
"We found you first," Kanan said triumphantly.
"Yes, you did," Ahsoka smiled. "With the auxiliary power from your ship, we should be able to make necessary repairs and get these supplies to their destination."
"I can help with the repairs," Sabine said brightly, looking as if she would like to prove herself useful.
"Y/N," Kanan said quietly, "we need to talk." You nodded to him, and he led you away from the group, away from the fallen Gundarks, over to a long flight seat situated near a hallway viewport. Kanan sat, and you followed suit. You knew what was coming. You knew he was going to tell you to leave the ghost crew. You knew he was going to tell you goodbye.
"I'm sorry, Y/N," Kanan said, looking out the viewport at the stars. "I shouldn't have gotten your hopes up. Ahsoka is a very skilled Jedi, far more skilled than I." He turned to look at you, the side of his face illuminated in the blueish light of deep space. He looked cinematic, lit by the stars. He looked like everything you'd already been dreaming of, since the moment you met him. "She believes it is the way of the Force that I train you myself."
You took this in, watching Kanan's face, the realization of his words hitting you slowly.
"I won't make this difficult for you, Kanan," you said, looking down at your hands. "You don't have to train me. It's okay."
"Difficult? What in stars you talking about, Y/N," Kanan said, exhaling through his mouth. You looked up at him, working hard to keep your true feelings out of your Force presence, overwhelmed by the intensity of his gaze.
"I know you wanted to dump me off on Ahsoka," you said. "I know you wanted someone else to take responsibility for me. But I'm strong enough to look after myself, Kanan. I've been doing it for years. It's okay that you don't want to train me anymore."
"Blazes, Y/N," Kanan said, looking out at the stars again, smiling in spite of himself. "I didn't want to dump you on Ahsoka. I just wanted you to have the best teacher." He reached out and put his hand on your arm, above your elbow, and your body twitched forward, wanting to be closer to him, wanting him to touch you more.
"I don't want the best teacher," you said, unable to stop yourself, "I want you." Both of you bathed in those last few words, you shocked at your own admission.
"I didn't mean it like that," you said, hoping he didn't take it the wrong way, that he didn't take it to mean exactly what you'd truly meant.
"No, I'm certainly not the best," Kanan said, laughing, stroking your arm up and down. The air left your lungs. "But I will train you, Y/N. As much as I am able."
Feeling his hand on your arm, his eyes looking into yours, the stars illuminating the two of you, you felt as if your feelings for him were as heavy as the world itself. You were trying hard to hold the world up, but your feelings were growing and growing. You predicted it would only be a matter of time before they grew too heavy, before they fell and flattened you. You worked hard to keep your Force presence clear of this, to communicate only friendship and admiration to Kanan, but you worried that before long your feelings would burst forth like a tidal wave, crushing you both.