15 Year Reunion

Glad you guys like the fic so far.

xxx

"This is Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. I regret to inform you that both our Jedi Order and the Republic...have fallen. With the dark shadow of the Empire Rising to take their place. This message is warning and a reminder to any surviving Jedi. Trust...in...the force! Do not return to the temple. That time has passed. And our future...is uncertain. We will each be challenged. Our trust, our faith, our friendships. We must persevere. And in time, a new hope will emerge. May the Force be with you. Always."

The Holocron closed, and slowly drifted to Kanan's palm. That message always seems to play on his emotions.

Barely a month has passed since Kanan last listened to Master Kenobi's words. A message meant to inspire any remaining Jedi who escaped the massacre 15 years ago to keep their spirits high, and continue a cycling fight until this New Hope arose. A long, winding, and possibly heart wrenching journey has been placed at his feet. Kanan seriously doubted there were any other Jedi left. For that matter, there were times where his doubts and fears spiraled out of rationality. He accepted that any who are strong with the force had perished with the Order and Republic. Ezra Bridger, a loftrat of a kid who is strong with the force, ignited a torch in his darkness. In him, Kanan saw that New Hope Master Kenobi spoke of. Or, at the very least, a spoke in the ladder that will bring him, his crew, and everyone under the iron thrall of the Empire to the light beyond the darkness.

Meanwhile, thanks to Ezra, the ranks of the rebel team known as the Ghost Crew increased by one. One more rebel to fight against the Empire. Unfortunately, their fight against the Empire will have to take a step back for the time being. Agent Kallus, the Elite leader of the Imperial Security Bureau and Commanding Officer of the Storm Troopers, has engraved his sights upon Kanan and his team. Before, it was simply because they were rebels who sought to tarnish the good name of the Empire. Now, it is because he is aware the Rebels are harboring not one, but two Jedi. Linger remnants of the Old Republic that he fully intends to squash from existence. Recent events on planet Kessel have put copious targets on the Ghost Crew's back. Freeing the Wookies from the deadly prison only succeeded in swallowing the feet they put in their graves. Nothing they aren't used to. They'd consider it a bad day if they weren't about to be arrested or killed.

Kanan can hardly breathe the notion. So much has happened in such a short amount of time. Whatever the future held next, he doubts it'll top what he's endured so far. For now his focus was trained on putting distance between his team and the Empire.

Hera, the ace Twi'lek pilot that she is, guided the Ghost Ship to systems near the outer rim. She utilized the Premelian Trade Route as a direct means of travel. If her navigation systems were correct - and they're always correct - they will pass into the Bormea Sector of the Core Worlds. A sector occupied by heavily populated planets advanced decades ahead of most sectors in technology, culture, the arts - name it. Lucky for them. The Ghost acquired a bit of damage from their rescue operation on Kessel. The damage went unnoticed until after a hyperdrive jump fried a few circuits. According to Chopper, a very grouchy Astromech, the engine's cooling systems weren't functioning properly. They're overheating when Hera flies faster than Mach One. Putting her foot on the gas agitates it. The hyperdrive sparks and pops. And Zeb, the just as equally grouchy Lassat, wasn't sure, but he smelt burning rubber.

"So do we want the bad news, or the worse news?" Sabine, one of Mandalore's more artistic of soldiers, sardonically announced strutting into the cockpit.

"Let's try the worst news first." Kanan decided. He placed a hand on her shoulder. "Then how about some optimism on the bad news." He requested politely.

"Everything that's either fried or frying has to be replaced. Grit, spit, and gum aren't going to cut it." To think Sabine 50 packs of that special adhesive gum from Vizago for nothing.

"What's the bad news?" Ezra asked unsure if she accidentally said the bad news first.

"The ship might hold together for a good...three hours?" Give or take a minute or two. She isn't a professional mechanic. "After that we're dead in the water until some kind soul happens by."

"Well, we're on a trad route, aren't we?" Zeb stated, shrugging their situation. "Shouldn't take long if we wait around."

Hera spun in her pilot seat, staring crossly at the Lassat. "Did I forget to mention that the Empire FAVORS these Trade Routes?" Zeb froze in his seat. "I doubt I need to remind you how Lady Luck has set us on the 50-50 margin."

"No need!" Zeb shot a hand up. He becomes gloomy thinking about their bipolar luck. He scanned the passing void through the forefront glass. There had to be somewhere they'd be able to land. "THERE YOU GO! How about there?!" The Ghost Ship was passing over a gorgeous blue planet. Blue seas, green plains, and serene white clouds perfectly visible, and absolutely vibrant in the vacuum of space. "What planet is that."

"Chandrila…" Kanan breathe warm awe.

"You been there?" Ezra remarked on Kanan's sparkling smile.

"Once! A...long time ago…" Kanan felt misty eyed just by how long it's been since he happened upon Chandrila. I wonder if...nah...He put his silly ideas in the back with his hopes and dreams where they belonged. No way she'd be there.

"I'm afraid this is as close as we'll be able to get." Hera regretfully stated. "Empire Activity is high on this planet. Demand for their resources and advancements increased after the Clone Wars ended." Kanan's head lowered somberly. He curled a fist. "There should be another planet just an hour from here."

"Then let's not waste anymore time." Kanan grumbled with a note of melancholy. He glanced one last time at the planet, then pounded a fist on a chair. The crew, Hera especially, worried if they said something wrong. They couldn't tell. And Kanan isn't known for sharing what's bothering him. Just as he crossed the threshold, 'Caleb?' Kanan abruptly stopped and spun to his crew. "What?!" He gasped breathless.

"What?" Sabine replied bewildered.

"One of you said my name!" He retorted anxiously. He neglected that it was his birthname in place of the Pseudonim.

"N...ooo…" Hera prolonged her response, receiving confused head shakes from the others. "No one said your name."

"Then...who…" Kanan's eyes glued to the passing planet. The beautiful blue sphere seemed to follow the Ghost. The orbit drawing him closer and closer. He placed a hand at the window. The tug was ever more pronounced. Something… or someone...was calling to him. He closed his eyes. The force embraced him, flowing to his outward hand. He curled his fingers, holding a tingling sensation close to his chest. As if...he took the hand that was pulling him towards the planet.

xxx

Grim's less than graceful piloting left many infuriated as he drove D8-VE and Katerina to the airyard for their next big assignment. His landing was even worse. Left unflattering drag marks on the runway. D8-VE rammed the back of Grim's legs, bullying the foolhardy Nautolan pilot outside to apologize to the Captain and Air Marshal demanding an explanation.

Katerina managed to reorient herself enough to balance along the walls of the cruiser. The fresh air flooding the cruiser from the lowered platform was heavenly. Katerina extended a to grip the hydraulic bars. She stopped before her fingertips brushed the bar. Her eyes wide, expression blank, electric prickling danced to her fingers, crawling to her palm. A...warmth she hadn't felt in...years pressed tenderly to the whole of her palm. Like the hand of another was holding it. Katerina slowly closed her eyes. Breathing in the air, and closing her hand on the exhale. She doesn't know how...but there was a hand holding hers.

xxx

"Land." Kanan ordered simply.

"What?" Zeb tilted his head.

"I said land!" Kanan retorted sternly.

"Where?" Hera had a bad feeling.

"On Chandrila!"

"But...the Empire-" Hera's protest was silenced.

"I know the Empire makes frequent visits to this planet! But…" Kanan placed his hands to the backrest of a chair. He dangled his shaking head. The pull from that planet was growing stronger each second that passed. The thought they were going to fly right by it tied him in knots. "Please trust me, Hera. We need to land there!" Kanan's glossy eyes begged.

Hera was about to tell him no. She saw something. Something she hasn't seen Kanan display in a long time. Determination...and desperation. Whatever's on Chandrila, Kanan will not be at rest until he's encountered it. "Okay." Hera acquiesced. She set a course for Chandrila. "Where am I landing?"

"A garage. Mothma's Garage."

xxx

Five long arduous hours later, the lack of circulating air doing nothing to alleviate the tumultuous work, Katerina , Dave, and Grim signed and sealed their approval on a job well done. The underlying issue with the Chandrila Military cruiser was the cockpit being the sole area where Oxygen wasn't being sustained in low oxygen areas. Space, higher atmospheres, the works. The O2 converters and Nitrogen Recyclers were functioning properly. A tag on their sides revealed they were installed a little over fives years ago. Those both have a ten year warranty. At a temporary stalemate in their work, Katerina concocted a plan guaranteed to help solve their problem.

The techies in the Research and Development District near the Crystal Canyons created a disk shaped device designed to absorb any traces of oxygen and seal it to be used at a later time. The disk shaped device can hold up to one to four hours of oxygen and release it. The idea behind the device was sparked by the inevitable event researchers, soldiers, or adventurers in general found themselves in low oxygen spaces. Depending on the size of the room or area in question, the device will automatically release bursts of air when oxygen levels are low. And, contrastly, with enough disks in said area, they can create a vacuum that eliminates the oxygen. A darker side to the science. And a science that's questioned often. What science isn't?

Dave was left in the cockpit as he was the only one who doesn't breathe. He activated the three O2 Disks. Cubic lights webbed from the sphere in the middle, and snaked to the rims. Tanks in the disks sucked in the air with loud, suffocated hisses. Dave measured the oxygen levels dropping, dropping, and dropping to the same levels that are present in space. Zero. In conjunction, the O2 converters and Nitrogen recyclers started up. Dave conducted a scan on the cockpit, casting a 360 degree web. In no time at all Dave found the breach.

"A breach in the cockpit windows?" The captain remarked incredulously.

"Afraid so." Grim showed him their finding on his data pad. "The sealants used on the edges of the windows to secure them in place are specifically mixed for extreme low or high pressures." Grim pinched and spread his fingers, zooming in on the sealant waxing. He twisted a finger and lifted, stretching a holographic page with the ingredients. "Long story short, the sealant used here is meant for earth based vehicles. Ten grades lower, and guaranteed to wear while in space."

"You've got to be kidding me!" The Marshall roared. "My provider swore to me-"

"Liam Armstrong?" Katerina spoke up, finishing packing their tools up for the road. "That's who provides you with your cost efficient equipment and adhesives? From a company called...Pure One Installs?" Her sarcasm was heard loud and clear. The Marshall refused to respond, wanting her to get to her point before he dismisses her. "Pure One Installs is a sham of a company that dilutes their chemicals, and utilizes beyond warranty expired parts. And are under the subject of ten lawsuits for deaths and injuries related to their products." Katerina didn't bother to hide her resentment for halfbaked wannabe's holding wrenches. It's because of people like Pure One that Mechanics like her are given a bad name.

The Marshall's jaw hit the floor. "I knew nothing...of this…" He turned his shock to anger and looked to the captain who was breaking into a nervous sweat. "Captain! What is the meaning of this?"

"Well we can see you two have issues to work out." Katerina edged her two partners along. Things were about to get ugly. Although, they had a laugh at the Captain's expense when he was caught with his pants down.

Roughly an hour later, Katerina, Grim, and Dave returned to the Garage - a humble term for what can be confused for an industrial factory. The landing yards packed to the brim with ships, and other vehicles. Cranes hauling beams, platforms of woods and sheet metal. Workers suspended on harnesses were carefully lowered from the glass plated roof. The west side of the garage was blemished by an old hole from a huge blast. Window panes, recently purchased, were being fitted and placed. The building itself was refurbished with new supports. Inside were ten different levels of work spaces. Speeders on ground for minor maintenance. Larger hover crafts like cruisers and automobiles were spaced out on harnesses. Transports, fighters, cargo ships were higher. Anything bigger was worked on in the Landing Yard outside.

Katerina and her friends retreated to her office that had a bird's eyes view of the immediate area. She was able to watch the chaos, and received around the clock information via her system spanned to a wall. Each sector of the garage was monitored. Research and Developement, Auto mechanics building crafts from scratch, and fuel advancements in the sub levels. Repairs and other services on the surface. Never Ending circus that circulated wherever she chose to sit. She brewed strong cups of coffee for her and Grim. Dave helped himself to oil canisters in the frigid. Specially formulated for him.

"The cruiser, and the Florum Bikes are off of our to-do list." Grim announced victoriously. He clanked cups with Katerina and they drank. "Four more jobs and our deadlines are clear."

"The 24 hour ones at least." Katerina rolled her head left to right, cracking her neck. "We've still got the cloakshape fighter that's due to be finished by Monday. Two cocoon pods needed by wednesday. And an MC80B Starcruiser that's collecting dust in the basement."

"Oh yeah…" That's a project being ignored. For good reason. MC80's weren't too popular. More parts are obsolete than they are collecting dust from lack of use. Almost impossible to use part from newer models to revive the dinosaurs. "Wasn't Mauler supposed to work on that one?"

"Parts from Tatooine barely came in last night." Katerina pinched her nose. Her head was throbbing. The parts needed were order two months ago. The owner of the MC80 wanted his oversized paperweight back by next month for the museum he's opening. The cruiser is in dire shambles. Practically being built by scratch. "He'll need all hands on deck. Get Rayes, Sheila, and Bizeen's team to help him." Dave beat her to it. He sent a message to the workers, and almost instantly received groans of protest. "Tell them they'll be the next one's to act on their sick time. Take three weeks off." That message was heard being received loud and clear from the opposite side of the garage. Katerina laughed at her people cheering and jumping right into their work. "My boys." She giggled.

"And, unfortunately, they have the right idea." Grim hated to cut their break short. But their work load wasn't exactly empty. A few more projects demanded their immediate attention. "You and I have work of our own, Katty. You have the engine of a hovertank to work on, and I need to fix the pressurizer on a walker."

"UUGGHH…" Katerina swung her legs, thrust her arms, and lunged onto her sore feet. "Deliver me!" She whined.

"COME ALONG, M'LADY!" Grim tossed her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. "WE RETURN TO OUR WORK!"

"Yay…" Katerina pumped an unenthusiastic fist.

xxx

Sabine, Hera, and Ezra stood in gobsmacked awe of the glazed structure towering before them. The way the setting sun glistened off the window panes. Like something from a novel. Ezra marveled at the tanks rolling in. Their cannons being dismantled and taken to a separate building. Hera and Sabine drooled over the high class vehicles being driven in and out. Old memorabilia from the Old Republic being bought, refurbished, and reimbursed. The personal favorites of the two ladies that got them drooling were the fuel tanks rumored to not be on the market until the next year. It was grease monkey heaven.

"^WILL YOU STOP DROOLING!^" Chopper clanked impatiently. Hera, Sabine, and Ezra wiped their jaws, stammering on recovery. The pink tints in their cheeks worked against them. "^This is a bad idea! We're sitting ducks here!^"

"I'm with Chopper on this one!" Zeb gruffly nudged Kanan's arm. "You're cryptic about why we're coming here!" He named off on his fingers. "And you're being even more cryptic about why we're letting those gearheads make off with our ship!" The Ghost was attached to a cable and slowly guided to the other side of the lot. Zeb dropped his shoulders. "I left my bo-rifle in there." He whined.

"I know, I know, it's unorthodox." Kanan bobbed his hands, wanting everyone to stop ganging up on him for five seconds. "But guys…this was...important." Gazing up at the garage, Kanan found himself admiring the craftsmanship that's gone into maintaining and updating the place. "Place looks different from when I was last here." More futuristic looking.

"When were you here last?" Sabine asked.

"And why would you come here?" Zeb saw no real reason. Chandrila was impressive thus far in the more developed acreage. He's sure the grassy plains and forests are lovely too.

Kanan's throat tensed when he swallowed an emotional lump. "My…my...uh...sister…" Sister dried his throat to crack. Heads snapped to him in shock, "She...was an apprentice here." Zeb, Ezra, and Sabine shared mutual surprise, mouthing sister as if it was a foreign word.

"You never told me you had a sister." Hera anxious remarked, tenderly touching his shoulder.

"Yeah. Don't talk about her much." He answered swiftly. He'd rather change the subject, but knew his team well enough they'd continue to pry. Ezra, Sabine, and Zeb were already huddling. "She worked in this garage with Senator Mon Mothma's cousin, Kendril Mothma." He laughed heartily, recalling a little girl with oil one her cheeks. "Eight year old grease monkey prodigy! Made a model hoverbike out of a toaster and helium canisters. Damn thing actually flew." Skepticism had him in spite of his sister running that model into his head to wake him up for training. "She would have been 23 in March."

"What happened to her?" Ezra asked warily.

Kanan saw that question coming, and braced himself. "She...died at the end of the Clone Wars." Zeb's ears dropped. Ezra and Sabine regretted pressing him. Chopper oscillated himself 180 degrees.

"Oh, Kanan." Hera put fingers to her lips. She wanted to hug him. She settled for squeezing his shoulder, pressing to his side. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be. It was a long time ago." Kanan escaped the questions by walking through the front door. He may have shrugged it off, but Hera saw through him like glass. The rest of the team followed Hera when she went after him.

It was like crossing the threshold into a whole new world. Too bad they didn't have a lot of time to sightsee and be tourist for a change. They offered gaping mouths, impressed whistles, and the occasional urges to touch everything in sight. Maybe after the Ghost is fixed, and if the Empire stays off their trail, they'll take a day to enjoy what Chandrila has to offer.

Nearby, a young woman was heard barking orders to a team of workers bringing in crates of new parts. Kanan and the crew assumed she was the person to talk to for expedient service. And maybe to answer a couple of questions. Three runway speeders slowed to careful stopped. Crates linked by cables tapped one another on their not so dime stop. She inspected the crates, checking that the items inside matched the manifest. "Okay...okay...okay...nice!" She checked off everything, green lighting the cargo. Her astromech ran a scan over the crates for surprise packages. He gave his own seal of approval. "Good. Thanks guys. Take it to the closet and go home. You've earned you two weeks."

"THANKS BOSS!" The trio hit the accelerator and raced off in a flash.

The boss lady held her tied up hair, spitting up the fumes gusted in her mouth. "HA-HA-HA! Love these guys!" She tucked loose strands behind her ear.

"Excuse me!" Kanan waved, rubbernecking to get the busy woman's attention. No luck. She was focused on what was being fed on her data pad. "I was...wondering if you could help us!"

"You'll have to sign in like everyone else!" She plucked a digital pen from her ear. "We're a little behind!" She danced the pen fervently on the pad, cursing when she overlooked something. She touched a com in her ear. "Madison? Have you found the chairs to the fuselage of Cruiser...25 in lot 1-0-5B?" Kanan and the others waited as the Madison woman replied. "Great! Arrange them in their order and then go on your break."

"No! Actually," Kanan proceeded, rubbing his palms together, "I'm looking for someone. Kendril Mothma?"

"Then you've come a year too late, I'm afraid." She twisted a part of the way to prove she was acknowledging him. "Ken died from a seizure."

"Oh." Kanan hadn't expected that. "Uh...sorry about that."

"No need. We've recovered, and we keep his memory alive in our work." She tucked her digi pen behind her ear. Her new customers sounded like they were in urgent need of help. Her work was at a good enough spot. She can spare a minute. She turned to her visitors, "But, since you've come all this way, maybe I can-" Kanan and the woman petrified to stone. Aquamarine eyes locked with aquamarine eyes. Lightning struck the cores of their minds, sending them into a spiral that made their bodies mutually numb. Kanan and woman rooted themselves. Their breath hitched in their throats, stomachs in knots, hearts pounding like drums, eyes quaking.

Hera and the others stared baffled by the sudden silence. It was becoming slightly awkward. Zeb opened his mouth to initiate conversation. A loud clack startled everyone. The girl's data pad slipped from her fingers. Oddly enough, the sound reminded Kanan to speak, and permitted wind back to his stale lungs. He was...speechless with disbelief. "No…" Kanan's fingers fell open. Resistance and doubts falling from his sweating palms. The back of his mind was screaming he was seeing things. That...that...this girl...only resembled...IT HAD TO BE A RESEMBLANCE! "It's impossible. You can't be…"

"Kanan?" Sabine carefully approached. "Do you know her?"

"I...I...no! No I…" He put a hand to his pounding forehead. "I can't...possibly know her! I CAN'T!" He roared. Hera motioned for everyone to give him room. Kanan bashed fists to his forehead, knocking this horrible images from his mind. All illusions! Everything he was seeing! This woman, the garage - NOTHING BUT A TRICK! Please! Whoever is playing this foul trick...let it stop! I beg you! Tears welled at the corners of his squeezing eyes. Please…

"Caleb?" That name...The soft cherub voice flipped his head up. The girl was inches from him. Glossy eyes similar to his ensnared him. A tear trickled down her cheek. "Caleb Dume…" Sparks popped in Kanan's heart. "Is it...you?" Hope and fear resonated in her wavering tone.

Caleb, The ghost crew mouthed. Hera watched on. Her sights darted between Kanan and the mechanic. Though it should be impossible, she formed an idea to who this woman was.

Kanan swallowed a lump down his dry throat. He kept denying it. There's no way it can be her. And yet...in spite of his fragile heart...there's only one person in the universe who knows his real name. "Katerina…?" The name spilled his own tears. She cupped a hand to her smile, choking on tears and overwhelming glee. Kanan's spirits rose from his toes to his head. He gently cupped her cheeks, and she cupped his. Her tears spilled profusely like water falls. Joy from her smile poured into him, opening the floodgates. Kanan spoke the name again. "Katerina...Dume? Are you really…?"

She closed her eyes, holding back her cheers for one more test. "WAK always did keep better time than you."

"RIINA!" Kanan burst, lifting her high into a tight embrace.

"CALEB!" She threw her arms around his neck. She constructed her legs at his waist. "YOU'RE ALIVE! YOU'RE ALIVE!" She cheered at the top of her lungs. Tears of absolute joy soaked to his shoulder.

"RIINA! IT'S YOU! IT'S REALLY YOU!" Kanan spun her. His own tears doused his cheek to her shoulder. "Oh Riina!"

"CALEB!" The pair laughed while they cried their hearts out. Hera, Zeb, Ezra, and Sabine were certainly warmed by the reception. Felt the urge to join in. But they were really curious about who this girl was. The two hugged each other so tightly there was a thought they'd meld together. "Caleb…" Over and over she sobbed his name. Calling out in hopes Kanan wouldn't vanish in thin air. Be a product of her wildest imagination. She tightened her hold, snuggling her cheek in his neck. The height, the smell - everything was him. "You're back…" She sniffled heavily. "You're alive! You survived! YOU'RE BACK!"

"I can't believe it!" Kanan set her down. He padded her down, ensuring he wasn't dreaming. He stretched her arm overhead by the hand, leading her in a rapid spin. Her soft cheeks, the distinct smell of lotion and grease, and those gentle eyes. From head to toe, this was Katerina Dume. "How is this possible? How are you alive?"

"That's my line!" Katerina playfully scolded, punching his arm. "I thought you died with the others in the temple!"

"No! I escaped!"

"So did I!"

"How?!"

"You first!"

"That's it!" Sabine put fingers to her lips. A shrill whistled stopped those two dead in their tracks before they left anyone further in the dust. And broke Zeb's eardrums. "ALRIGHT! HOLD EVERYTHING! HIT THE BREAK! PUT HE SAFETY ON!" She bellowed impatiently. Kanan and Katerina forgot they were standing there. "Not that I'm not happy you guys are happy to see each other…" Sabine wagged a finger, drawing the link that's obvious between them. "Kanan, who exactly is this girl?!"

"And why did she call you Caleb?" Zeb's lips twisted at the silly name.

"Oh! Yeah! Right!" Kanan and Katerina laughed at him. He let himself get too ahead. "Umm...yeah, so…" Kanan wrapped an arm to Katerina's shoulders, "Riina, meet my friends. That's Sabine."

"Hi." She waved simply.

"That's Zeb."

"Miss." He bowed his head.

"Hera."

"Nice to meet you." Hera greeted warmly.

"Ezra."

"How's it goin'?" Ezra bobbed his head.

"And this guy here is Chopper."

"^The pleasure's mine!^" Chopper waved a tiny prong arm.

"Guys…" Kanan started to choke up, holding Katerina close to his chest. "I...haa…" He buried his nose in her hair momentarily. He needed to triple ensure himself that who was in his arms wasn't an imposter. Same lilac shampoo.

"You really suck at introductions." Katerina teased.

"Hush! I'm overwhelmed with happiness here!" He muttered. Katerina stuck her tongue at him. "Right! Anyway!" He grunted in the back of his throat. A blush stained his cheeks. No one on his team were complaining about the suspense. They liked the witty banter. It was...cute almost. "Everyone...this is Katerina Dume. Mechanic Prodigy…" He squeezed her shoulder, sucking on his lips, "And my little sister."

I know the reunion seems early, but I've seen the whole "wait five to twenty chapters before ushering a heartfelt reunion" thing one too many times. Don't worry. I won't have everything move...too fast.