A/N: Hey guys, thanks for sticking around. I'm not getting as much of a strong response to the sequel as I did with the original story, but I'm confident in the plot and am going to take it as far as it can go. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed, followed, and favorited! Your encouragement is appreciated.

Next time: Visiting an old friend turns treacherous. Did you really expect anything else from a bounty hunter?

Through the Daybreak

Part Four

"Just a little bit farther," Hera promises, easing the Ghost into open space. Ezra sits beside her in the copilot's seat, trying not to fidget. He feels unrest deep within him, the kind that can only be remedied through immediate action.

At last they reach a safe distance from the Phoenix Squadron's patrol and come about sharply. At Hera's signal, Kanan remotely opens the external hatch to release an undetonated grenade into their surroundings.

Slowly, almost as if in suspended motion, it floats around their bow and comes to rest off their nose. There's the muffled sound of boot steps in the corridor and then the console before the apprentice lights up indicating the upper gun turret has been brought online. The sluice of the laser beam cuts through the darkness, causing the grenade to explode in a fanfare of smoke and metal shards. Even though it was some distance away, the cabin shakes, and Hera bends down to the internal scanners.

Ezra swallows thickly and looked away, trying to hide the way the second blast had set him on edge. The accident that had stolen his sister's hearing was only one day in the past, but he still sees her bruised and bloodied every time he closes his eyes. Presently she was recovering in the infirmary on Chopper Base, though she was in much better spirits. Through most of the first night, she'd been inconsolable as she realized just how much her daily routine would have to change. She could no longer enjoy music or casual conversation with the pilots, and would never again hear the voices of her family. It was completely up in the air whether or not she could ever go on missions again now that her main means of situational awareness was compromised. This was perhaps the most devastating part, for Sabine had abandoned the academy and eventually bounty hunting for the rebellion. Most of all, she feared being useless to their cause.

His mother makes a hushed exclamation of wonder as her gloved fingers dance over the keys. As he watches, multiple schematic and sensor readings detailing exactly what had happened by the nanosecond appear. After some time Kanan joins them in the cockpit, his cybernetics adjusting to the change in light.

Suddenly Hera swears and pitches forward, burying her face in her hands. Ezra reaches for her but then she leans back, gesturing at the screen.

"That's twice the concentration of detonite that was in the last shipment!" She exclaims, gripping the armrest so hard that he fears it might snap in two.

Kanan places a comforting hand between her shoulder blades, bending over the instruments to confirm this. "Is there any chance that it's a factory defect?"

She stands and approaches the back of the cockpit; because the door is closed, she doubles back into the room and begins to pace. "We can try all of them if you want, but I guarantee they'll all do the same thing. No weapons manufacturer worth his alliance with the resistance would sell us goods like that, especially considering how much clout we have in the local markets."

The two men both look away when she turns to them, expression feral with rage. Captain Syndulla is a formidable pilot and strategist, and downright fearsome when she's angry. "Someone set us up. And when I find out who it is, I swear to you I will rip them limb from limb!" She all but screams, kicking the paneling in the wall with her boot. It leaves a sizable dent.

Once the smoke has cleared from her outburst, the jedi says her name, and it gives her pause. He doesn't have to say what they both already know: that nothing could even be halfway resolved unless they went about it with a certain level headed examination. Sighing, Hera returns to her seat and collapses into it.

Ezra reaches for her hand to comfort her in the only way he knows how. She squeezes her son's hand and allows his reassurance to flow over her like so much water. "We need to get in touch with our contacts on the outpost in the Bespin System. That's where all the shipments to this system are put together. Maybe someone heard something, saw something," Kanan says.

"Even if they did, do you think they would tell you?" Hera challenges, forever playing devil's advocate. But she was right; only the dishonorable sort would risk their lives to forge a lucrative trade deal with the rebels. They had to tread carefully.

Suddenly the boy had an idea. He shrugs, suggesting, "We could always get in touch with Hondo-"

"No!" Kanan and Hera exclaim at once, putting that idea to bed.

Eventually, it is decided that they would detonate the remaining explosives for safety and return to Atollon to discuss their options. Ahsoka hadn't left Sabine's bedside for more than a few minutes for almost a full day; she'd been the one to bring the Ghost's holoprojector into the infirmary and set it up so the two could watch Sabine's shows. Chopper soon caught on, parking himself at the foot of the cot and projecting running subtitles into the space underneath the image. And that's how they left them that morning, the atmosphere jovial yet tentative.

Some time later, Ezra and Kanan stand in the cargo bay, preparing to jettison the empty crate into space. Rolling it over, the apprentice uncovers a starburst with one pointed end painted on the underside. Both recognize it immediately due to their familiarity with a certain bounty hunter who operated in spirit of the values of the Black Sun syndicate.

"It's got to be a coincidence," he argues. "They've got operatives all over the galaxy. That crate could have changed hands a few times."

Hera frowns, recalling her daughter's stories of her former friend. It was odd that a gift from her arrived in the same shipment bearing the same insignia, but then again she'd helped them before by pointing out the location of the Yost System.

"We've got to find Ketsu Onyo," Kanan asserts, and hopes it's not a dead end lead.

-0-

"Caleb, it's my turn," the little girl insisted, stomping her foot to demonstrate her impatience.

The impulsive young man, only recently assigned to his master, laughed as their makeshift swing reached the top of its arc. The branch supporting him creaked, but did not break.

It's exhilarating to get out into the outdoors after months of being cooped up in the temple on Coruscant. Or, rather, what was left of it. The jedi stronghold had been the victim of an arson attack, which had caused their population to scatter across the galaxy until a culprit could be found. He didn't like to think about the threat this posed; rather, he chose to relish his visit to Chalacta, a world he'd never been to and wouldn't have had to chance to see without the guidance of Depa Billaba.

They were currently staying at the home of her sister and fellow jedi, Sar Labooda, her husband and daughter. Caleb had been pleasantly surprised to learn that Saneetra was only a few months younger than him, for at her most annoying she reminded him of someone much younger. Nevertheless, they'd played together every day over the course of the past week, and had enjoyed almost every minute of it. He knew that they would soon have to leave this world on their next errand, but didn't want to think about it. His time was so often spent in form practice and history lessons, in meditation and contemplation. It was just refreshing to get to be a kid for a while.

"Once you start your training next year, you'll see what I mean about Master Windu," he said, launching himself out of the seat and landing in a squatting position in the dirt. Saneetra gratefully took up his post, and he scurried behind her. "He's so serious. I've never seen him smile."

They'd already discussed this topic in length; they planned to take their meals together and meditate alongside one another. Due to her father's interference, the force sensitive girl had never honed her skills, let alone seen the inside of a temple. This was all going to change, and neither could wait.

"I don't understand people like that. If I ever turn out sour, slap me upside the head," Saneetra requested, extending and bending her knees in an attempt to get some momentum going.

Caleb placed his hands on either shoulder and pushed, causing the swing to rise even higher. Rising over the fence on the back wall of the compound, the girl laughed, hair fighting its way out of her braids to flow behind her. "Can I tell you something?"

"Sure," he answered, not sure where this was going. She wasn't going to confess her love for him, was she? Because they were both too young, and that would make hide and go seek with the other neighborhood kids awkward.

"You're my best friend," Saneetra confided, pumping her legs forward and backward. Caleb was so stunned that he nearly forgot to push her the next time around.

Did he have plenty of friends at the temple? Sure, but none understood him like Sar's daughter. Depa had taught him that attachments were a dangerous thing to have, that they could be used against one in manipulation, but he just didn't know how to stop caring for people. So he had to tell her the truth. "You're my best friend too."

From behind him, a door slid open and a dark skinned woman stepped out into the grass. Caleb couldn't remember the last time he'd seen his master out of her robes; nevertheless, she looked regal and dignified, as she always did.

"It's time for the evening meal," she announced in a conversational tone, never one to raise her voice unless it was absolutely necessary. Then she was gone back through the door, most likely to help her sister set the table.

An afternoon playing in the sun had brought forth their appetites. Saneetra dug her heels into the dirt, coming to an abrupt stop. Her friend didn't move, however, and seemed awfully interested about what was on the horizon. "You won't forget about me when you go back to the temple, will you?"

This time he looked her directly in the eyes, joy radiant. "Saneetra Billaba, I don't think I could ever forget you."

Satisfied, she turned towards the house. Caleb mirrored her bent over posture, one foot in front of the other. Racing to the porch had become their little routine, as they were almost evenly matched in speed. She counted to three and they were off, heels teasing the grass, laughing all the way.

-0-

It is long after midnight when Kanan comes to bed. He doesn't bother to turn the lights on in the cabin; rather, he takes his practiced route to the hamper and peels off his day clothes. Once he is satisfied with his nightly routine, he approaches the bedside and crawls in beside Hera, smiling as she rolls over to give him space.

She hasn't been resting for more than a few minutes, for her daughter's condition had demanded her attention. Hera had come in to tell her about their excursion. She had taken it all in with quiet acquiescence, only really perking up at the mention of Ketsu. Again, Sabine confirmed what they already knew: while the bounty hunter's motives were questionable, she did have compassionate moments. If she'd sent the faulty grenades, why would she bother to include a gift if that would only arouse suspicion? Any way they looked at it, it would be wise to seek her out.

"Feeling any better?" He asks, gingerly stroking her brow. She glances up, admiring his shirtless form, and offers a somnolent smile in response. The first night after the accident had been hard, and they'd both wept until sleep overtook them. But they had to put on brave faces-for the rest of the crew, the pilots, each other. For Sabine.

"I've talked with our Outer Rim informants. You'll never guess where the latest reports place our friend Ketsu," he says, all the while running his fingers up her bare arm.

Hera sits bolt upright in bed. Her grimace indicates that she likely already knows what he's about to say, but she doesn't want to believe it. They couldn't be doing this again. "Bespin?" She questions rhetorically.

He sits up alongside her, nodding gravely. "All within the twenty-four hours. If we hurry, we might be able to catch her."

Their twi'lek pilot simply couldn't believe what she was hearing. The crew's morale was at an all time low; they were in no condition to fly. Nevertheless, she knew what had to be done, for the sake of her daughter and the rebellion.

"We can leave in the morning. I recommend we take Ezra, Zeb, and Chopper." Whenever the captain suggested anything, it really wasn't a recommendation in so many words, but a demand. But since she and Kanan were partners in more ways that one, she saw it fit to run her decision past him.

"And Sabine," he adds, noting the stricken expression on his lover's face.

She shakes her head violently, lekku swaying with the momentum. "I'm not putting her in danger again, love. She's not even halfway healed yet. It's too soon."

Carefully Kanan reaches out to her and brings her down to the blanket, facing him so their noses are only inches apart. "Hera, she knows Ketsu better than anybody, and you know that. We can station her in her quarters, and if all is fine and her friend is innocent and actually willing to help us, maybe they can talk. And if not…" He trails off, bringing his hand to curve around the small of her back. "We know our girl. She doesn't like to sit still for long."

As much as Hera's maternal instincts were at war with this amendment, she has to admit he was right. She inhales slowly then exhales, expelling a tentative, "Alright."

He nods and settles further down into the pillow, relishing the feeling of her warm body beside him. It felt familiar. It felt right.

After all this time, she could almost feel the soothing energy flowing off of him. No matter how far she traveled in the galaxy or deviated from the trodden path, it was this that always brought her home.

Safe in the arms of the man she loved and cautiously optimistic about what was to come, Hera soon drifts off to sleep.

(to be continued)