"What do you mean, I'm not coming, Kanan?!" Ezra was shouting at his back after Hera had filled in Sabine and Ezra; Kanan just wanted to get to his room, to chew on the sudden appearance of someone from so long ago it felt like another lifetime. Was another lifetime. "If there's another Jedi, on Coruscant, why can't I come with you? You're not planning on foisting me off on another Jedi, are you?!"

"No, Ezra, I'm not doing that; you're my apprentice, full stop," Kanan insisted, though he didn't turn back to Ezra. He had too much to think about. "But we're talking the capital of the Empire here. I know Coruscant enough to help track down this newcomer."

She'll know all the shafts and tunnels, though. Gotta find her down deep.

"Two Jedi are better than one!" Ezra pushed back. The kid wasn't backing down; he learned that too well from his master. "Plus, yeah, you have the Force, but I can see, I can help you –"

"And if the Empire catches all three of us?" Kanan snapped, turning towards Ezra. Kanan could make out Ezra's outline, his aura in the Force; he couldn't do that with anyone else, yet. "If you stay, the rebellion still has a Jedi. You've got two holocrons to study and practice from and a new 'saber to build.

"I know you want to help, but this…this is something I have to do. Alone. Hera and Zeb will have my back, and if anything happens to me you can still train. But if you come, and the Empire not only gets me, but you, and her…"

Kanan sighed, shaking his head in frustration. He couldn't fail either of them. All he could do was just try. Just do.

"…please, Ezra. Just let me not worry about you."

He felt Ezra slowly agree before he heard the kid approach, then felt Ezra hug him tight around the chest. Kanan managed to return it, patting Ezra's thick hair a little.

"And get yourself a haircut while I'm gone, huh?"

"Kanan!" Ezra grumbled, but Kanan just laughed since he knew Ezra liked the simple concern, tousling his apprentice's hair before turning him loose. "All right, but bring her back to meet us, at least?"

"You got it," Kanan agreed before Ezra headed back for the common room. Kanan sighed and made sure Ezra's attention was off him before stepping into his room. He rubbed the back of his neck before going to sit on his bed, shaking his head slowly. He'd never once thought the past would run up on him so fast, not after getting away from it for fifteen years.

Maybe when you come back, Master Billaba will make you a Knight, and you can train me for real?

He'd been fourteen then, about to leave the Jedi Temple for the first time with his master, to go to war. She'd been ten. Just ten, but a hot hand with a lightsaber and sometimes she ended up teaching him something about telekinesis, or going unseen in a crowd of people. Things she'd know living as a scavenger on Nar Shaddaa, things that just came naturally to her. He hadn't been Kanan Jarrus then, but Kanan knew she'd still be herself. Still Raen Kariya.

Hera's description was nothing compared to how Kanan remembered Raen, still a little kid but in a lot of ways older than that. Raen had a rare smile that he could always get out of her, especially after they'd had a spar in one of the advanced classes Raen technically shouldn't have been in. Kanan could see that smile now, as if she was right there; the ways her eyes glowed from under that fringe of her hair, sun making the silver hints shine gold…

I don't want anyone else. You're my friend.

A rap on his door and the sense of Hera pulled Kanan back again, and he had to take a few moments to ground himself back into the present before getting up to the door.

"I think I know what expression you're giving me," he quipped lightly once he'd keyed the door open and sensed Hera's insistent determination. "Y'know, arms crossed, lip-twist frown. Like you're gonna wring me for answers."

"You know full well I am," Hera retorted before her hands shoved into his chest, pushing him back into his room. "And, no, my arms aren't crossed."

"Yeah, got that," Kanan noted after catching himself from stumbling onto the floor. He sighed and walked backwards to his bunk so Hera could come in and sit once she closed the door behind herself.

"Talk to me, Kanan," Hera insisted as Kanan sat on his bunk again. "You know the Jedi that's been hitting the Empire on their home turf."

"…yeah," Kanan conceded. "Long time ago."

"Before the war long-time-ago?"

Kanan shifted uncomfortably on his bed. He'd told Hera some of his life before the Clone War – she'd wormed his old name out of him one time he was very drunk after she took him onto the Ghost's crew – but he did his best not to go back to those times if he could. It still surprised him as Hera's hand folded over his, and she moved from wherever she had been to sit next to him.

"I'll take that as a yes," Hera sighed. "Does she even want to be found? You know her, Kanan, so…tell me."

"She was a kid the last time I saw her," Kanan muttered. "She was the last person to see me before the war. Whatever she's been up to, I don't know if she's still the same kid I knew…then."

"Well, she has your flair, I'll give her that," Hera teased, and Kanan smiled a little. "She must've really looked up to you."

"…she wanted me to be her master. Y'know, after the war and I finished my training. She always was crazy like that. I was all she had, really."

"That sounds familiar with the apprentice you have now," Hera pointed out. "You must be some kind of trouble magnet."

"You know me, right?" Kanan chuckled, and was rewarded with a soft laugh from Hera. "…just hope she doesn't get herself killed before we find her. She's good, but if the Rebellion can notice her the Empire definitely has."

"We'll make sure they haven't and get her to safety," Hera assured him. "And if the Empire finds out, well, at least we'll still have two lightsabers to cover an escape, huh?"

"You know it," Kanan agreed. "Just…"

"I know," Hera interrupted him, squeezing his hand tightly. "I'll be with you the whole way. Zeb, too, though how the senator is going to explain a Lasat bodyguard for his daughter is beyond me."

"I think he's going to like any possible costume even less."

–

"There's no chance I'm wearin' that getup!"

"Zeb, come on, it's not that bad!" Sabine tried to insist, but Kanan could sense her huge teasing smile and couldn't help one of his own. Sato had delivered on their cover for going into Coruscant with the young princess. Hera was going to take over as Leia's private shuttle pilot, so that wasn't much of a change for her. Kanan was still swallowing the fact he was supposed to be some kind of rep from some enclave on Alderaan that would cover for his blindness. Even though Zeb had gotten the role he was obviously going to be best at – Leia's personal bodyguard – the outfit, from what he could hear, was not what Zeb had been planning.

"What did you expect, you could walk out into Imperial Center with your own clothes and not be recognized?" Hera pointed out. She'd let Kanan run his hands over her Organa-friendly flight uniform and even if he couldn't sense color he could bet it was damn flattering for her: crisp high collar for both the undershirt and jacket, a captain's sigil over her heart, even a nice new cap for her headtails. Kanan was far too entertained with hearing Zeb try to keep as much distance between himself and whatever Sabine was brandishing towards him to get a feel for his own outfit. "Zeb, come on, you're an adult, right?"

"Is like puttin' me into a buckethead's suit, but less fun in gettin' it!" Zeb argued. That gave Kanan a bit to imagine and smothered a snicker. "What's so wrong wit' me bein' me for this job, huh?"

"Uh, the Empire knows what we look like?" Ezra offered; his own amusement whenever Zeb was the butt of a joke shone out clearly to Kanan through the Force. "Probably Kallus has a really thick profile for you, if anyone bothered to read it."

"Heh heh, very funny," Zeb griped, but a sigh from Sabine and a rattling sound meant she'd tossed the outfit – probably armor – at their muscle.

"Zeb, you wear it, and who knows! Maybe you'll like it! And when you get back, if you do like it, I can really make it a masterpiece," Sabine offered, just managing to cut off a few derisive hoots from Chopper up in the Phantom. Kanan heard the low growl Zeb saved strictly for the old astromech before Zeb finally grumbled a sigh.

"Fine, but I know 'm not gonna like it!" Zeb conceded. Kanan heard the faint rattling sound again – Zeb probably stooping to pick up the armor he hadn't caught from Sabine – before sensing the crew's attention shifting to him.

"All right, Kanan, your turn," Hera insisted. He could just nearly imagine the exact width of her smirk. "Both Zeb and I got a look, now it's your turn."

"As best I can, right," Kanan sighed, but he sensed Sabine cross the common to put a hand on his shoulder. Good kid, her. "Just tell me if I gotta run I'm not falling over myself."

"No skirt," Hera assured him, though Sabine snickered next to him. "I think the coat goes to your knees…is this even a coat…?"

Kanan reached out his hands and felt a soft, silky fabric – thicker than shimmersilk, though – slide into his grip. It was mostly loose fabric, with only a couple of seams holding it together, which made Kanan frown slowly. Tabards? Like from a Jedi robe? That wasn't smart.

"Looks like a shirt, that coat, and a belt to secure it," Hera added, tossing him the shirt though Kanan would have missed it if he hadn't heard the soft rustle of its approach. That one was definitely shimmersilk, the way the shirt tried to pour out of Kanan's hands onto the floor. "Must be standard diplomat wear, Force or no."

"Don't even," Kanan muttered. The last thing he needed was to be looking the Jedi part. "Now I'm starting to think Zeb's onto something, wearing our own clothes!"

"At least it's not Jedi drab, right?" Sabine pointed out. "I mean, that shirt's nice and plain, sure, but it really makes the colors and patterns on the coat pop. It's almost like I designed this, just nicer."

"And it's fitting for your cover," Hera insisted. "From the look of the IDs and other documents, Alderaan's home to a fairly small Miralukan enclave. Probably bringing a Miraluka representative is a way to tell the Empire they're not harboring real Jedi."

"Miraluka?" Ezra asked. "I've never heard of them before."

"Well there's not a lot of them left in the galaxy," Hera explained.

"They're human-like, but born without eyes," Kanan conceded; that part of his cover was decent, and probably not easy to fake. "Everyone in the species has a degree of Force-sensitivity to see through the Force. Not hard to mistake one for a real Force-sensitive. Some became Jedi before the war, but they come and go in terms of numbers."

"Which is why it's the perfect cover, minus the diplomacy part," Hera teased. Kanan turned towards her voice to make sure she saw his scowl.

"Who says I can't be diplomatic?!"

Even though there wasn't a definite answer it still got everyone to laugh, and Kanan grinned before sighing to gather up the outfit. Well, so long as it didn't put a neon sign saying 'hey I'm actually a Jedi if the look didn't give me away' over his head for every Imp to see, it'd work. And if they were really lucky, this mission would go smoothly.

Then again nothing had ever really gone smoothly for them. But Kanan would be damned if he didn't make sure it went as smooth as possible.