Archive of Our Own ^beta

The crew members of the Ghost had a rare opportunity to sit down in the Yavin IV mess hall and eat dinner all together. Usually someone had something going on – meetings to attend, maintenance to finish, training sessions to lead, datawork to complete, cycles spent off-world for missions or building alliances, endless duties to see to – and whoever was left would try to meet up anyway. But today, the stars and Force aligned and everyone was free.

Sabine was discussing something about tech splicing with Kallus – Alex, as he preferred to go by these days – while Zeb tried to give his uninformed two-credit opinion. Ezra sat contentedly as he ate next to Kanan, who chatted softly to Hera on the man's other side. Chopper puttered around beside the table, occasionally bumping into people's chairs “accidentally”. Rex'd had to leave as soon as he finished eating to make it in time for some last-minute mission update, but it was nice seeing him for the half hour he could spare. For that small time, the whole family was together.

The air was pretty relaxed and calm when Kanan suddenly shuddered, a full-body shiver rippling down his spine, interrupting his conversation. “Something's coming,” he announced ominously, grabbing everyone's attention. Ezra frowned in worried confusion when a second later he felt a weird tingling under his skin, chilling but not ice cold. Distinctive and sort of familiar but nothing he could put a name to presently. But it was big. Something pretty strong in the Force was distant but closing in fast.

The comm in Hera's breast pocket chimed. She pulled it out to respond, “Syndulla here.”

“General, we've got an unidentified ship that broke atmo,” explained the officer at the other end. Looks were shared around the table. Ezra specifically glanced at Kanan, whose brows were furrowed in deep concentration. “They replied as friendlies when hailed but didn't have landing codes. They've requested to land anyway.”

“Have them land in Hangar Bay 7, and secure the surrounding areas. I'll be there with the Chief of Security,” Hera glanced at Zeb, who confirmed the orders with a nod and turned to send a message to his subordinates, “and I'll bring some other back-up as well.”

“Copy that. One last thing, General, why your squad's input is specifically useful for this. The ship seemed to be... cloaked... somehow, before it came within range. We didn't detect it approaching the planet until it dropped the cloak in atmosphere. No visuals or anything until that point.”

Ezra tensed as Hera jolted with surprise. Even Chopper let out a bwop of confusion. The numerous scrambling and jamming upgrades on the Ghost made the ship one of a kind, unique in its design by Hera's proficient engineering and the crew’s continuous upkeep. But as far as Ezra knew, it only made the ship's signal untrackable. To hide even the sight of the ship?...

“We're on our way, Syndulla out,” Hera spoke into the comm before cutting the call and standing abruptly. “C'mon, kids, time to work.”

“What kind of tech could even do something like that?” Ezra muttered, dumbfounded, as the group quickly gathered their meal trays and deposited them in the collection bin.

“Nothing the Empire currently has in their active arsenal, I know that much,” Alex responded with a furrowed brow. “That level of technological advancement was still in its infancy during the Republic, and as far as I'm aware hasn't gotten to the stage where it would be viable beyond testing.” The crew marched quickly out of the cafeteria and began weaving through the winding halls of the rebel base. “Whoever it is must have access to something entirely experimental to be able to do all of that.”

“Not if they aren't using tech to do it,” Kanan replied with a pensive hum.

“Whatdya mean?” Zeb asked with confusion. “How else could they hide themselves?”

“Is this a Force thing?” Sabine pressed, one step ahead in understanding Kanan's thought process.

“Oh kriff, is it a Force thing?” Ezra echoed. He moved closer to Kanan to walk alongside him. “Is that what that weird feeling was?” Despite Kanan's mental shields, Ezra could feel his Master's trepidation and uncertainty.

“It's very possible,” Kanan nodded. “But it doesn't feel exactly malicious. Just... cautious. Obviously it could be an infiltrator of some kind, but it could actually be friendly. Either way, stay on your guard.” The last direction was specifically targeted toward Ezra. “Can't be too careful.”

“Let's stow the theories for now and book it over to the hangar, then we can see what we're really dealing with,” Hera commanded, and the crew picked up their pace to intercept the ship.

The mystery ship was just finishing its docking sequence as Hera led the charge into hangar bay seven. All personnel that would normally be working in the same hangar had been cleared out as a precaution, except for a few extra guards that stood ready by the doorways. Zeb drew his bo-rifle and motioned for Alex and Sabine to draw their blasters as well, but to keep them pointed down for now. Ezra hovered his hand over his holstered lightsaber, ready to ignite it. Hera waved for Chopper to stay back, rolling her eyes as the droid warbled his adamant refusal and drew her own pistol. Beside her, Kanan suddenly startled with a fierce jolt and reached out to grab her arm.

“H-Hera,” he stuttered. Ezra felt the unease and confusion surging in his Master's mind, and his worry for the man increased when he sensed something mournful and heartbroken underneath.

“Love? What is it?” The ‘General Syndulla’ mask slipped away as Hera ‘the worried partner’ pulled her significant other closer with a tug.

“It's – I, I don't–” Kanan shook his head, reaching up to slip the eye mask from his face. His blinded cloudy gaze searched desperately for something in front of him. “I-I don't understand, h-how–...?”

The pneumatic hiss of a lowering hatch pulled everyone's eyes away from their Jedi back to the ship. Zeb approached slowly with Sabine and Alex flanking him as a young man stepped out of the shadowed door. A shock of red hair shone like a flame in the evening sunlight compared to the washed-out colors of the poncho cape he wore over a distressed leather vest and spacer pants. Matching red scruff lined his chin and jaw. His gloved hands were raised defensively. “Whoa, hey. I promise we aren't here to attack. Uh, thanks for letting us land. I think I'm at the right place?” He glanced around. “This is the current Rebel Alliance base, right?” Something about the man felt... odd. Like there was something Ezra should recognize. Not his looks, or the way he talked. But his presence, the energy he gave off. And the fact that Ezra couldn't pick up on any stray thoughts or feelings from him, like he was mentally shielding.

“You don't get to ask questions, pal, not ‘til we get our own answers,” Zeb growled, tightening his grip on his bo-rifle. “First off, where'd ya get these coordinates?”

The man seemed to only just then fully acknowledge Zeb's presence, startling once he looked over at him. He stared wide-eyed at the lasat for a moment with a tense yet unreadable expression before blinking and shaking his head a little. “We, uh, we've got connections with Saw Gerrera's group and he gave them to us when we told him our issue,” the man explained. In his peripheral vision, Ezra saw Alex stiffen but school his expression quickly, and he vaguely remembered the ex-ISB had history with that group. Sabine also tightened her grip on her blaster and widened her stance. Ezra shared the sentiment; they weren't exactly fans of the guerrilla partisan, not anymore, nor the usual company he kept. They were a bit too needlessly violent, to say the least.

Zeb thankfully didn't linger on the subject and continued questioning. “We'll see if that lines up with intel. I'm gonna need your name an' the reason for you comin' here.”

“Someone on my ship needs medical aid more than we're capable of. We can offer our services and information in return,” the man said. “Oh, and I'm Cal –”

“ –Kestis?” Ezra looked to Kanan, who was frozen in shock. Disbelief and something like hope leaked through their Force bond. “...Cal Kestis?”

The man's gaze snapped over to Kanan with confusion. “What've you heard –?” His eyes narrowed and he leaned forward. That, and the way he cocked his head looked familiar to Ezra, but he couldn't place why. A small warm pulse in the Force further befuddled him. The man's eyes widened slowly. “... Caleb?”

Kanan let out a strangled noise, trembling visibly, and took a few tentative steps in the ship's direction. “It's... It's been a while, huh?” he laughed brokenly, sounding choked up.

The man, Cal Kestis, clearly knew Kanan somehow, as he shot forward off the ramp and Ezra's Master caught him in a fierce embrace. Hands stiffened around raised pistols and rifles until everyone realized the exchange was... affectionate . “Caleb, Caleb, kriff you're here!! You're alive, you-you made it out too, oh Force, Caleb, I'm so fucking glad you're alive,” the man rambled, his voice cracking wetly. “I thought I was the only one from our-our clan, I was alone on Bracca, I-I didn't think there was anyone else left –” Cal hiccupped and buried his face in Kanan's shoulder, but Ezra managed to catch a glimpse of the heavy tears streaming over the redhead's cheeks.

“I know, I-I know, I did too, i-it's okay,” Kanan murmured, his eyes glistening as well, wet tracks dripping down his face. “We're okay, I'm here, I gotcha Cal.” He stroked a hand up and down the other man's back. Hera stowed her gun and made a stand down hand signal to Zeb, who grunted with uncertainty but put away his weapon. Sabine glanced at him then over to Alex, then shrugged and did the same. Both of them holstered their blasters.

Cal stood up and wiped a hand across his face. As he blinked away his tears, he seemed to finally notice the intense scarring over Kanan's eyes. “Oh... oh kark, Caleb,” the man breathed out. He raised a shaky hand to cup Kanan's cheek. “What... happened?”

“It's a long story,” Kanan sighed, intercepting Cal's touch with his own hand, bringing both back to their sides. “I'll tell you about it later. But it doesn't hurt. And I've learned to see through other means. I'm still alive, that's what matters.”

Cal nodded in understanding and threw his arms up and around Kanan's shoulders for one last hug. In doing so, his poncho moved just enough for Ezra to notice the glint of a long metal cylinder dangling from his hip, just above an empty blaster holster. Ezra gasped silently. It all made sense now. How Cal knew Kanan from a long time ago, how he approached them like he was sensing them through the Force first, how he had a kriffing lightsaber ...

“You're a Jedi too,” Ezra announced in awe.

Kanan and Cal startled out of their embrace and turned toward Ezra. Cal blinked a few times. “Oh. Uh. Hi, sorry. W-Wow, you're... the Force is really bright around you.”

Ezra puffed up his chest with pride and couldn't help the small smile on his face. “Kanan's training me to be a Jedi too. He's my Master.”

Cal blinked in confusion. “Who?”

“Ah, me,” Kanan smiled sheepishly. "I haven't gone by Caleb Dume in... a long time. My name's Kanan Jarrus now.”

“...Did you change it to make it harder for the Empire to track you down?” Cal guessed. Kanan nodded in response, and Cal hummed then chuckled to himself. “That probably would've been a good idea. I didn’t hide too well from Inquisitors early on. And now my name is a little too well known alongside my face. But you never know, it might not be too late. Maybe I should change my name too.”

“Please do not change anything.” An accented feminine voice carried out of the ship. “I have only recently gotten used to hearing your surname as my own since taking it.” A ghostly pale young woman with ashen grey hair and odd face markings made her way slowly down the ramp, assisted by a dark-skinned older lady supporting her with an arm hooked through hers. The younger one was addressing her Jedi friend. “I do not want to go through the process of learning a new one. It seems extraneous and pointless.”

“Merrin!!” Cal jumped to attention and sprinted back toward the ship and the women. At some point after the appearance of Cal's friends, Ezra noticed Kanan had slipped his eye mask back on. “Are you okay to be walking around?! You need to be careful!” He took the pale woman's – Merrin's – free hand and helped support her. It was then that Ezra noticed how her loose red tunic draped over the rounded shape of her stomach; she was pregnant. As she got closer, Ezra breathed in sharply. A sensation not unlike the chill he felt earlier lingered with Merrin, the Force dancing around her in an unusual way Ezra had never seen before. Or... maybe he had? But like it'd been muted, only an echo of the live energy that surrounded Merrin. Kanan noticed it too, if the subtle shift in his posture at her appearance meant anything.

“Did you forget we were waiting on your signal, Cal?” teased the older woman. “You sure were taking your sweet time.”

Cal winced apologetically as they took a few more steps down the ramp. “Sorry Cere, I got caught up.” He flashed a quick smile over at Kanan before turning back to Merrin. “An old friend surprised me.” He and the woman called Cere helped Merrin make it off the ship's ramp, where Cal took Merrin from Cere to support her fully. “You remember me mentioning Caleb before?”

Merrin hummed affirmatively as she settled in Cal's arms. “Caleb Dume, yes. From the temple on Coruscant, your Initiate companion. We overheard that he prefers to be called Kanan Jarrus now.”

“As much as I'd like to meet everyone present,” interrupted Cere sternly, “we're here for a reason, and that's to get you checked out with a medic,” she pointed to Merrin.

“Of course, introductions can wait,” Hera agreed, stepping forward and taking charge. “Let's get you situated over at the med center, then we can all talk more.”

Ezra huffed a sigh to himself in disappointment. Obviously getting medical help was more important, but he had really been hoping to question this Cal guy about... anything . Jedi of old stuff, Kanan as a kid stuff, what he does now stuff, what planets have they been to stuff, can I spar with you later stuff, any juicy tidbits. He moved to follow the group out of the hangar when another new voice interrupted.

“Are you guys really gonna go off and not wait for me?!” hollered the being that couldn't have been any taller than Chopper. Two of their four arms were crossed over his chest, and the other two waved around with indignation as they ambled down the ramp toward the group. A tiny two-legged droid skittered out behind them. It raced over toward Chopper and the two began chittering back and forth in binary as the short person continued ranting. “I mean come on . It's rare we have a nice place to dock, so of course I ain't complaining about being left here, but it's the principle of the thing, y'know!”

“You were taking too long, and I figured you'd comm us if you really needed to,” Cere replied. Ezra blinked in confusion at the unusual being the woman argued with. A huge part of him wanted to ask what the heck... he?... was, because at no point in Ezra's time with the Ghost crew had he come across a sentient that looked like that. But Ezra's conscience (that sounded suspiciously a lot like Hera) said it would be really rude to do so. Maybe he'd just ask Zeb later. Or better yet Alex, who'd be less inclined than Zeb to tease him for not knowing.

“Glad to know you were at least thinking of me,” the furred being remarked dryly. He hobbled quickly to catch up with the now large group. “Nice to meet you all. Name's Greez Dritus, and I am the pilot and fearless leader of our motley crew.”

“I disagree,” Merrin interjected from where she was being led along in the center of the pack. The ginger Jedi kept her steady as she made slow progress forward. “Cal fills the role of leader, as he makes most of the decisions. And if not him, then Cere is the next candidate.”

“Sheesh, can't catch a break around here,” Greez grumbled.

“You are, however, an excellent pilot. That I will not contest,” Merrin finished. Hera perked up at that a little, seeming to be interested in talking to the short man about flying. That is, until Merrin winced and let out a small pained noise. She clutched at the side of her stomach and her legs shook under her and nearly gave way if it weren't for the Jedi and his firm hold. “ Cal ,” Merrin called out weakly to the man, voice breathy and strained. Hera stepped in closer with concern.

“I've got you, it's okay,” Cal soothed softly, surprisingly level-headed compared to how he seemed earlier. “Need me to carry you?” The woman nodded stiffly, and Cal quickly but carefully cradled an arm behind her knees and swooped her easily into a bridal hold. Ezra was stunned and a little in awe of his strength.

“I'll run ahead and tell the med center to get prepped,” Sabine decided as she prepared to sprint. “Is, uh, she in labor?”

“No, she's nowhere near due. Tell them there's a pregnant mother at around twenty-eight weeks, severe abdominal bruising after ship collision,” Cere explained. Ezra winced sympathetically, as did many of his friends around him. “You know what, I'll come with you. They may have more questions. BD-1, with me.” The little droid chirped in acknowledgement and dashed over to the older woman before leaping up and settling on her shoulder. 

Sabine nodded. “Let's go.” The two of them sprinted off down the hallways out of sight.

Hera nodded to Cal. “You can come with me, no one will stop us if I'm the one leading you.”

“We'll catch up with you,” Kanan said, clasping a hand to his friend's shoulder. “Don't wanna over-crowd the med center. We'll have time to talk more later.”

“Thanks Cale – Kanan,” Cal smiled tightly but genuinely. He tucked Merrin close to his chest and hurried off alongside Hera, Chopper rolling close behind them. The only ones left in the stretch of hallway were the other men.

Ezra shuffled his feet awkwardly and looked to his Master, hoping for some guidance. What he saw was a contemplative expression. He mentally nudged Kanan, emoting curiosity towards whatever the man was thinking about. Kanan felt the attention and turned his head in Ezra's direction, giving him a small reassuring smile.

“So!” Greez began suddenly, startling Ezra. “You fellas look like you know where to find a good drink around here. Am I right?”

“Don'tcha wanna follow your friend to medical?” Zeb asked, pointing a thumb in the direction everyone had gone.

“Nah, nah, I don't wanna get in their way. Cal would be the one staying beside Merrin, and Cere wouldn't be up for much talking,” the pilot explained. “I'll head over after some time has passed and things've calmed a little. Plus, I can bring the kids something to eat, Cal especially. He needs the calories – forgetting to eat, he's been stressing so much lately.”

“Before you go,” Kanan interrupted suddenly, “is Cal... is Merrin's baby...?” 

“If you're trying to ask if Cal's the dad, he is,” Greez filled in with a smirk. “They'd been trying for one for a while, so yeah, Cal is definitely the dad.” Something in Kanan's energy softened, almost wistfully if Ezra had to put a word to it.

“I'm curious to hear how a latero became so entangled with the Rebellion,” Alex pondered, changing the topic and sparing Kanan from attention. “I've rarely heard of your people involving themselves in any recent off-planet affairs.” Ezra filed away the species' name for later.

“Well now that is a good story.” The latero pilot ushered them forward, Zeb and Alex leading Greez in the direction of the rooftop taproom as the two Jedi hung back. Their voices faded as they went further.

Ezra finally faced his Master head on. “You doing okay, Kanan? You've been pretty quiet since Cal and his friends showed up.”

Kanan sighed, taking his mask back off and slipping it in his utility belt. The blind gaze turned in Ezra's direction, eyes unseeing yet still so expressive. Mournful, yet hopeful. “It's... a lot to take in.” Kanan shuffled over to the rocky wall and leaned his back against it, and Ezra moved to stay next to him. “Reacquainting with Ahsoka was one thing. She was already a highly-regarded commander, nearly knighted, when she left the Order. And that was... months? Before the fall. She was years ahead of me in training and ability, so I really only knew her in passing and from her reputation. But Cal…” He ran a hand over his hair, his thumb tracing across a patch just behind his ear where a tiny scar cut through the dark strands. He'd told Ezra once before about how he had to messily slice off his recognizable braid after the Purge. “He and I grew up together. Force-sensitive children are typically sought out when they're very little, brought to the closest temple during their toddler years. There are differing cases, obviously, like if something happened to the parents and the youngling is taken in as a baby. And not every family wants to give up their child, as is their right to refuse.” He waved the train of thought away, shaking his head. “Sorry, that's all unrelated, not necessary for this story. Anyway. We grew up in the creche, clans of younglings sorted by age. Cal is a year younger than me, but we were in the same age bracket, so we were raised together.” Kanan's gaze drifted upwards as he seemed to fall into his memories.

“Your crechemates were your playmates, and as you got older, your closest friends. And eventually, by the time you were old enough to train as Initiates of the Order, even those of us who didn't get along saw each other as family in all but blood.” He bit his lip as his brow creased. “He was my brother. One of my best friends. I became a Padawan before him and had to leave him behind, but when we had the time we'd play and train together as much as we could. He was excited for me w-when,” Kanan paused and cleared his throat, “when Master Billaba took me on as her apprentice, a-and I was so proud of him when Master Tapal chose him as a Padawan.” Kanan closed his eyes and took a few shakey breaths. Despite his Master's ability to shield, Ezra still felt anguish from Kanan reliving the past and tried to send him reassurance through their bond. He stepped in closer and laid his hand on Kanan's stiff shoulder. It seemed to help a little, as some of the tension slipped away. Kanan swallowed and took another steadying breath.

“We were in different star systems when the... order ... came through – I was on Kaller, and apparently he was around Bracca. And even though at first I hoped he'd still be alive, over the years I just…” Kanan's sigh was heavy with raw emotion. “I grew disillusioned, and hope felt like poorly-done stitches over an infected wound, holding onto a dead limb when it'd be easier to just... cut it away and deal with the loss.” Even though it felt a little juvenile of him, Ezra pulled his hand down Kanan's arm and slipped his palm against his Master's, gripping their hands together in support. Kanan managed a small sad smile at that, squeezing Ezra's hand in return. “The wasting of so many Jedi lives will probably always hurt, that lost limb and its phantom pains,” Kanan mused somberly. “But having him here, knowing he's alive and doing so well…” His smile turned a little more hopeful as he tugged Ezra into his side and released his hand to drape his arm across the teen's shoulders. “The Force is singing to me in a way it hasn't done since I first accepted you as my Padawan.”

Ezra felt his body flood with pleased warmth and leaned into his Master's side. If he focused on it, he could sense what Kanan meant, the way the Force flowed around them in a particularly joyous way, dancing like how a sparkling stream tumbles over rocks in a lush forest, or how the wind swirls through the tall Lothali grass on a cloudless day. “I'm really happy for you, Kanan. You deserve this.” A surge of contentment saturated the air and Kanan pressed his face into Ezra's hair affectionately.

“Thanks, kid.” He squeezed his Padawan fondly. “And… thanks for listening. Felt good to get that off my chest.”

They stood there together for another moment in the gentle peace before Ezra pulled away. “Soooo, do you wanna catch up with Alex and Zeb and try to wheedle funny stories out of Greez? I bet he has some good ones,” he smirked.

Kanan snorted and shook his head. “Y'know what, yeah. I could use some good ammunition for teasing Cal. Let's go.”

The two Jedi joined the other men in the base's taproom. Ezra wasn't usually allowed to go in there, despite explaining he'd had alcohol before – he was eighteen thank you very much, not some baby – but the bartender let it slide this time since he was with his guardian and other adult members of his team who all refused to let him drink until he was “properly an adult”, whenever that would be. Lame, but Ezra let it go since he wanted to hang out with them. A couple sipped drinks later and over an hour into Greez's storytelling, the latero's comm went off. He snatched it up to look at the message.

“Ah. That's Cere. She's letting me know that the check-up's done and we're free to visit.” He tucked the device away in his jacket with one of his numerous hands and downed the rest of his drink with another. He snagged the parcel of food they'd managed to put together for Cal and Merrin and hopped off his chair. “Alright. Not that I don't trust a blind Jedi who's had half a pint of spicebrew to know where he's going, but... which one of you can lead the way to the med center?” He pointed to the other three who didn't fit his specific description, and Ezra snickered at Kanan's put-out frown.

“Hey! I'm perfectly capable!”

Greez waved him off. “Yeah, sure kid. I've lived with Cal long enough to know: alcohol and the Force? Don't mix well.”

“Come on, let's not keep your crew waiting,” Alex interjected with a smirk, standing and pushing his chair in. 

The rest of them followed suit before Kanan could rebuttal, but he stood as well despite his annoyed pout. “Not a kid,” he grumbled, and Ezra clapped a hand over his mouth to smother his laughter. Alex led the charge out of the taproom, Zeb beside him sending a friendly wave back toward the bartender.

“You're all kids to me, frankly,” commented Greez, “especially Lanky Tangerine over there; you're at least a fourth my age if not more,” he gestured to Ezra. Zeb barked out a laugh and repeated the ridiculous epithet, earning a scowl in return from the teen. He liked his orange shirts, so what! And his old jumpsuits were a classic! No one made fun of Hera for wearing something similar! He shoved Zeb for laughing, who shoved him right back, and it probably would've continued had Kanan not deliberately moved to walk between them like it was routine.

They made it to the medical center easily and quickly with Alex guiding them, and they were met by Hera and the woman from earlier, Cere, in the waiting room. The women stood at their entrance. “There you are,” said Cere, as she handed Hera a datapad they'd been reading together.

“How's Merrin doing?” Greez cut to the chase as he moved past the rest of the group to address her.

“She's doing fine, and the baby is too.” Ezra could feel the release of tension in the Force with the collective assurance everyone felt at Cere's words. “The bruising was treated, with nothing on her spine thankfully, and the majority of her pain seems to be coming from how the baby is pressed up against her injuries from the inside. They made sure the source of bleeding was clotted and started her on a small blood transfusion. The baby seemed uninjured from the scans. They're keeping her for observation for a couple nights just to be sure the baby's condition remains unchanged, and have her on a couple medications to help speed up the healing process.”

“Good,” Greez sighed with relief. “Good, that's... that's good. Better than what we feared.”

“Agreed,” Cere nodded. “They are insisting on more bed rest for her, though. So while she's here she's going to be mostly confined to the med center's bed,” she explained. “And she's to take it easy from here on out as well.”

“We'd be happy to find the rest of you some temporary accommodations while you're here if you'd rather not sleep on your ship,” Hera offered. “Our mattresses recently went through an upgrade when a more recent recruit with a background in textiles decided to take on a side project.” Ezra remembered that happening. While he personally preferred to sleep in his bunk on the Ghost , both Zeb and Alex had waxed poetic about the comfort of the mattresses, as had so many other folks around the base. All thanks to a newer requisitions officer who found a way to utilize a fluffy cloud-like local flora that compressed softly and held shape but would return to its original form after pressure was released.

“Well now, that sounds luxurious! I sure wouldn't mind,” Greez grinned. “I'm happy to do some ship inspection and maintenance for you all in exchange. Put my skills to the test against your best mechanics.”

“And I'd be willing to see if we have any relevant information your intelligence team might be able to use,” Cere added.

Alex straightened up. “The offer is greatly appreciated. I will clear it with General Draven first, and then I'm certain we can work something out.” He pulled out his comm to no doubt send a message to his Intel superior.

“I s'ppose I can take you over to Maintenance an' see what work they can give ya,” Zeb suggested to Greez. “Once ya see your friends, 'a course.”

“Yeah, lemme go chat with them, I’ll be back.” Greez resituated the food container in his arms and let Cere lead him to the designated room

As they walked further away, Ezra turned to Hera. “Where's Sabine? She was here earlier, right?”

“Oh she had to go take a call from Mandalore, I think it was that Kryze woman,” Hera explained. “She took Chop to make sure the line stayed encrypted.” That explained the lack of murderous astromechs in the area.

“She sure has been busy lately,” Ezra said with a sympathetic grimace. “The Mandalorians haven't gone easy on her.”

Zeb huffed a laugh. “It's tough enough to rally your planet's forces against somethin' like the Empire when all 'a your people are united . Can't begin to imagine what tryin' to get those opposin' sides to work together was and still is like.” He shook his head and crossed his arms with a shrug. “Granted, Lasan wasn't made up of a buncha jetpack-flyin', missile-shootin', stimmed-up soldiers, so they have that goin' for 'em.”

“That... reminds me,” Hera spoke up. “I wanted to bring up something Cal mentioned while you all were gone.”

Kanan snorted. “Cal was talking about jetpacks and drugs?”

Hera whacked him lightly with a flat scowl, which only served to make him chuckle. “ No , dummy. His Jedi Master.”

Kanan cocked his head. “What, you mean Master Tap –...?” His smile faded and fell as he trailed off, and he seemed to catch on to whatever Hera was talking about. “ Oh . Oh dammit, I didn't even think about that.”

“What, what's wrong with Cal's old Master?” Ezra pushed, confused by the turn of conversation.

Grimacing, Kanan's attention glanced at Ezra before turning and focusing on Zeb. “Master Jaro Tapal was a lasat.”

“ Tapal? ” Zeb startled, the purple of his face draining and going a little grey. Alex reached out and placed a soothing hand on his furred bicep as Zeb rocked with the force of the information. “Oh karrabast , I recognize that surname. I-I knew a Hiro Tapal, a sergeant in the Honor Guard.” He steepled his fingers on his forehead. “They gotta be related. Sergeant Tapal talked about an older brother once, but I never met 'im.” Zeb shook his head in disbelief, eyes a million sectors away staring at nothing as he was locked in memory. “Jaro Tapal…” he repeated to himself in a mutter before chuckling dryly. “Well kark, that explains the weird look 'e gave me when I first talked to 'im in the hangar. Thought 'e just hadn't seen a lasat before. Turns out... he was seein' a ghost of ‘is Master.” He leaned subconsciously toward Alex who had moved to put his arm around the lasat's back and rested his hand on the opposite shoulder. Ezra put a comforting hand on Zeb as well, though he couldn't quite reach his shoulder since he was nowhere near as tall as Alex. “I'm guessin' 'e don't want me around then, huh?” Zeb deflated a little, his cat-like ears flattening back against his head. “Probably pretty traumatic memories linked with someone lookin' like me.”

“Actually,” Hera began gently, “he said he wanted to talk with you about your people's history and stuff whenever you both had the chance.” That surprised everyone, except for Kanan it seemed who just nodded in understanding.

“What, really?” Zeb asked, befuddled, but his ears twitched back up.

Hera nodded with a small smile. “Yeah. He's really interested.”

“Honestly, that tracks,” Kanan admitted, stroking his beard. “I vaguely remember Cal once telling me about how Master Tapal promised to take him to his home planet one day, in part of the curriculum where we learned how other cultures perceive and interact with the Force.” He shook his head. “I just never put it together that he would've meant Lasan.”

Zeb let out a surprised laugh. “That's... huh. Well, yeah, 'a course I'll talk with 'im!”

“Look at that!” Ezra cheered, patting Zeb on his arm. “You finally have someone who's actually interested in listening to your lame stories!”

The lasat bared his teeth in a terrifying grin that sent a shiver down Ezra's spine. “Kriff off, ya little shit – it weren't so long ago when you were beggin' to hear about 'just one more mission' I did with the Guard!”

“That was years ago!!”

“Was not!”

“Was so!! I was fifteen!!”

Alex sighed loudly and dramatically before stepping between them, right when Ezra felt like he was getting the upper hand. “Boys boys, come now, we can all agree you're both equally infuriating. Nonetheless, need I remind you we are in the medical center? Where patients are supposedly resting?” Yikes. Alex was right. Ezra winced apologetically, and Zeb looked respectably cowed. Continuing, Alex turned to address the lasat. “And anyway, at the very least you know Rex, Kanan, or I always listen to your reminiscences about the Guard. Even if Jabba won't admit he's also a fan.”

Zeb grinned at Alex's blatant favoritism and utter betrayal of Ezra. “Glad to have ya on my side, Alex." He slung an arm around the man's shoulders jovially.

Ezra rolled his eyes at them with a frown. “Whatever. I'm not wrong though. And Alex’s biased.” He was spared any more potential reprimanding by Greez and Cere's reappearance.

“You're good to go chat with them, if you still wanted to,” Cere nodded to Kanan and crossed her arms. It made Ezra wonder if she couldn't tell the man was blind. At the very least, he was wearing a solid mask over his eyes, so it had to be obvious he couldn't see through it. Whether she was blatantly ignoring it or just being that obtuse, Ezra frowned either way and nudged Kanan mentally to let him know his attention was needed. “I know Cal wanted to see you, and Merrin wanted to meet you better.”

“I'd like that, thank you,” Kanan smiled in return. Cere gave him another terse nod. Glancing over at Alex, Ezra could tell he was scrutinizing the woman as well from where he stood with Zeb, and probably was piecing together some logic puzzle about her in his head.

“Well then, in the meantime, let's go see what we can do to help you all out with what we've got, huh?” Greez declared, clapping two of his hands together. He made his way over to Zeb and patted what he could reach, which turned out to be just the lasat's forearm. “Lead the way, big guy! But, uh, take smaller steps if you don't mind? Might have a hard time keeping up with you otherwise.”

Zeb snorted. “Right, can do. Let's go.” He and the latero waved to the group before heading down one of the halls that led toward Maintenance HQ.

“You can come with me to meet Draven,” Alex spoke up, directing his attention toward Cere. “We'll get you cleared and see what intel can be shared.” He gestured with a sweep of his arm down a different hallway.

Cere loosened up a little and nodded to Alex. “Sounds good. After you, then.” The Fulcrum agent led the woman away in the direction of the Intelligence offices, leaving just Hera, Kanan, and Ezra in the waiting room. Only a few on-the-job nurses and custodians milling about remained otherwise.

“So,” Hera started, “wanna go see your friend?”

Kanan lit up like it was Life Day, and Ezra couldn't help but grin at his Master's enthusiasm. “Let's not keep them waiting,” Kanan agreed.

It wasn't a long walk through the med center, only turning a few corners before they stopped in front of a door, identical to the ones surrounding it for the overnight-stay patients. Hera knocked gently, and they waited until Cal's voice called out “Come in!”  

She pushed the door open and let Kanan lead the way inside. Merrin rested comfortably on the hospital cot with a thin blanket over her legs. She was changed out of the clothing she arrived in and instead wore one of the center's plain linen gowns. IV lines connected to her inner elbow, one leading to a running blood bag and one to a clipped-off saline drip. Cal was perched on the side of the bed next to her, one of her hands clasped between his in his lap. He'd shed his poncho and it was now draped lovingly around Merrin's shoulders like a shawl. The little droid from before sat curled up like a loth-cat at Merrin's feet, but perked up at their entry. “Hey guys, come on in,” Cal repeated with a soft smile. Kanan quickly crossed the room and rounded the bed to stand next to the other Jedi. Ezra followed Hera inside, feeling a little like a tooka kit trailing after its mother. He glanced about the room around him, noting the similarities to the emergency ward in equipment and the differences in an effort for more comfort. A small table and set of chairs took up space in a corner just behind Cal, where Ezra noticed the food parcel had been opened and picked through a little.

“Cal,” Kanan smiled, clapping a hand to the man's shoulder and squeezing it gently.

“Hi Cale – mm, sorry, Kanan,” he corrected himself with a sheepish smile. “Sorry, I'll get it right.”

Kanan just chuckled. “It's alright. If you slip and call me Caleb now and again I won't be put off. But other people just won't know who you're talking about.”

Cal laughed in response. “Fair enough. Thanks for coming to check in on us.” Kanan smiled down at his friend reassuringly and nodded, giving his shoulder another squeeze. Cal stared back at Kanan for a moment. “Hey, if you don't mind me asking... why are you wearing that? The mask.”

“What, this?” Kanan tapped the eye covering. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Ah, well... initially, it was for medical reasons while I was healing from the attack that resulted in my injury. Then it became sort of a crutch, reminding me not to try to see with my eyes even when they were open, mostly by keeping them closed. But really it was a comfort just to wear it, helped me feel grounded.” Kanan rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged. “I don't really need it for that anymore, but... I know my scars aren't exactly the prettiest to look at, even if I can't see them. So I keep it on a lot around the base.”

Ezra was a little stunned; he knew to some extent why his Master wore the mask, but apparently not everything. Mostly he just assumed he used it for the grounding or whatever. Not that he was self-conscious. Hera didn't seem surprised, but it made sense Kanan would share these feelings with her. Cal nodded in understanding, though, with a frown pulling his smile away. “I get it. I've got my fair share of scars that paint a nasty picture – I'll have to have you feel this one on my shoulder sometime, it’s wicked. The scars changed me, sure. But it's just part of me now. As are yours. You don't have to keep the mask on in here, if you don't want. You're in good company.”

“Scars depict endurance, defying and defeating odds and emerging triumphant despite the pain suffered,” Merrin agreed with a tone that left no room for argument. “They mark you a warrior, Kanan Jarrus. A survivor .”

After a moment, Kanan huffed out a laugh and reached up, pulling off his eye mask and tucking it away in his utility belt. His lashes were damp and his foggy eyes glistened wetly as he blinked them open. “Thanks.” He squeezed Cal's shoulder again as the ginger grinned brightly. Kanan cleared his throat. “Right. Anyway. How are you feeling, Merrin?”

“Better,” she sighed. “Both from the treatment for the pain, and in knowing our little one is safe.” She caressed her stomach with her free hand as Cal brought her other one to his lips for a brief kiss. “We are grateful for what your people have provided, and are in your debt.” She looked at each of them individually with gratitude plain on her face.

“There's really no need for that, Merrin,” Hera stepped forward and assured, sounding like she had brought that up already sometime before. Ezra shuffled up awkwardly to stand next to her again as she spoke. “Honestly, we're happy to help you. Any friend of Kanan's is a friend of mine.” She glanced over at Ezra and put her arm around his shoulder. “Of ours ,” she amended.

“Cal might have difficulty admitting it, but he is extremely happy to have found you,” Merrin teased, causing the man in question to blush enough that his face matched his fiery hair.

“I can admit that”" he defended, bashfully not meeting anyone's eye contact. Merrin's eyes sparkled with mirth. Eventually he glanced up and gave a shy grin to the woman. “I can admit I'm happy to be with people I love.” Now Kanan and Hera's smiles grew as well. It was really sweet, honestly. It didn't stop Ezra from feeling super out of place amidst it all.

“So, um,” Ezra began, catching everyone's attention. Oh he didn't actually know what he wanted to say. “So, you, um, your... baby?” Safe topic, sure. Going with that. Probably won't bring up any tragic stories or whatever and sour the mood. “Do you... know what it is? Like, if it's a boy or girl?”

“A girl,” Cal announced proudly. Hera cooed in delight.

Merrin hummed in agreement, a small smile lifting the corners of her lips. “Her birth will carry on the legacy of my sisters, and we will raise her to honor our combined traditions in a way befitting the new era,” she described, sharing a loving look with Cal. But her explanation just left Ezra confused.

“Your sisters? You've got family somewhere?”

Kanan suddenly sucked in a breath. “You're a Nightsister .”

Ice flooded Ezra's body in recognition as he whipped his head to look at his Master. “Wait, what?! Nightsister? L-Like from Dathomir?” He shuddered and wrapped his arms around himself, recalling the eerie green glow of the ghostly mists in that cave, the haunting voices of dead women that came out of his friends' mouths. The terrifying power the witches possessed even in death. “I-I thought Maul said there weren't any left!”

"There are not."

Ezra snapped his gaze back to Merrin, who held herself calmly despite everything. She stared out, unseeing to all but her memories. “I was a child when a being wielding blue and green lightsabers slaughtered my Sisters. I survived alone because I hid using magicks while my Sisters used the same power and fought back.” Well, karrabast, so much for no tragic stories. “Cal found me on Dathomir, five years after the rise of the Empire. I have since learned it was an ally of the Sith that killed my Sisters, not a Jedi as I had believed.” She blinked and looked over to Ezra. “This Maul you mention, I recognize the name.”

“A Dathomiri zabrak? Red with black tattoos?” Kanan described. “He was a Darth for a while, back during the Republic.”

Merrin hummed thoughtfully. “I had heard tale of him. A Nightbrother chosen by the Sith Lord. He at one point returned, another Nightbrother taken under his tutelage. Mother Talzin believed they would go far.” She shook her head. “If he believed there were no Sisters left, all the better. I did not receive enough training to command a Brother as strong as he. I have no doubt he would not hesitate to try to find use for me should he discover my survival.” Merrin looked between the three Force users. “In some regards, we have become alike, you Jedi and I Nightsister. I only use my magicks when necessary to prevent unwanted attention and to protect, just as you do.”

“I thought the energy entering the atmosphere felt familiar,” Ezra frowned.

“You've been to Dathomir, then?” Cal asked.

“Only once, when Maul lured me there,” explained Ezra with a frown. “Then Kanan and Sabine followed and got possessed by these super creepy ghosts.” He winced and shot an apologetic look to Merrin. “Uhh, no offense.”

Surprisingly, Merrin just shrugged. “If you found them disturbing, then they were successfully serving their purpose to ward off intruders.”

“Actually, Maul summoned them to find out some information on his archenemy or whatever,” Ezra corrected, scratching the back of his head sheepishly, “and... they wanted our flesh and blood as payment. And then he left me there to fend them off on my own.”

Again, the former Nightsister didn't seem phased by this at all. “He disrupted their eternal slumber to demand knowledge to which he would have otherwise had no access. And all deep magick like that comes with a cost. The fault seems to lie entirely with Maul.” She shook her head and relaxed back into the hospital bed. Cal readjusted the poncho around her shoulders. “I do not blame you for your hesitancy if that was your initial and only interaction with the Sisters. I assure you I have no use for your flesh or blood or bones, not as the spirits would.” Comforting somewhat, if not also horrifying. “Their magick draws from death as in their death. I live, I draw power from life.” Merrin turned to Cal. “What did you call it, Living Force?”

“Connecting with the Living Force, yes,” Cal nodded in response, before looking at the rest of the group, eyes lit up with excitement. “Nightsister magick utilizes the Force in extremely different ways from Jedi, and different from Sith as well. It's entirely unique, even their psychometric echoes linger in a different way that I think is connected to how they manifest as spirits –”

Kanan chuckled, cutting the man off. “I'd forgotten how much of a nerd you are. Can't believe you still do this all these years later.” Cal scrunched his nose in annoyance and lightly shoulder-checked the other Jedi in the gut, making Kanan sputter. Merrin smiled softly and leaned sideways into Cal's chest.

“Psycho-metric?” Ezra echoed with a huffed laugh. “Is that a measure of how crazy someone is?”

“Not what 'psycho' means, kiddo, don't joke about that,” Hera admonished with a nudge of his shoulder.

Ezra shrunk in on himself. He thought the word-play was funny. Zeb would've laughed. Probably. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

“Psychometry is an ability some Force wielders are born with,” Cal began, speaking as if Ezra hadn't just been scolded for a joke of poor-taste. “It's also called retrorecognition. It allows the wielder to connect with moments of the past, almost always by touch. We get impressions of what happened through visions of events or remnants of lingering emotion, that kind of thing.” He gestured to himself. “I typically see the last impactful moment that occurred there when I touch an object or surface.”

“Doesn't that get... overwhelming?” Ezra asked. It was an odd power, and it seemed like something that could overload the person with too much information from literally everything.

Cal nodded with a shrug. "Well, yes, but since we're born with it we can start training to control it as soon as we're able. Plus nothing beats a good old fashioned set of gloves,” he smirked, holding up a covered hand and wiggling his fingers. “Sometimes I keep one hand free though just in case. But it's my main 'saber-wielding hand, so I'm less likely to touch something accidentally while fighting.”

“Man, that sure is a crazy power,” Ezra admired.

“Mmm, but it has led to… interesting... discoveries, that would've otherwise remained hidden,” commented Merrin sedately. The woman had slumped a little in her bed, listing to the side further and fully resting on Cal. Ezra watched her eyes blink slowly and heavily.

“I think it's time we head out and let Merrin get some rest,” Hera decided, also catching on to the pregnant woman's weariness. “You've been through a lot today, and growing a baby already saps a lot out of you.”

“Thank you, for visiting and for all that you have granted us.” Merrin glanced up at Cal before smiling tiredly at the three of them. “I would welcome the opportunity to speak more with you all tomorrow.”

“Will you be staying here overnight with her?” Hera asked Cal.

The man nodded. “Yeah, if that's allowed.”

“I'll go see about getting a spare cot in here so you aren't stuck in the chair.” Hera turned and left the room swiftly.

“Hey kid,” Kanan called Ezra's attention away from the door after Hera, “do you mind stepping out for a sec? I wanted to talk to Cal and Merrin privately about something before I forget.”

“Oh. Yeah, okay.” Ezra tucked his hands into his pockets and strolled out, closing the door behind him most of the way. But Ezra was curious and, sue him, a little nosey. If Kanan wanted to talk to just Cal, then he probably wouldn't have tried to listen in. But what could he talk with both of them about that they'd have equal say in the conversation?

Ezra took a moment in concentration and shored-up his mental shields to make sure Kanan couldn't tell he was listening, then leaned in toward the cracked door.

“ –quite sure what you're asking.” That was Cal. “Could you elaborate a little?”

A sigh of frustration came from his Master. “I just…” Kanan paused, and Ezra could picture how he would be anxiously running his hand over his hair. “I don't fully understand how... how you make it work.”

“I mean, marriage takes effort just like any other relationship,” Cal began.

“I-I get that, that's not my problem. I mean the whole rule of, y'know. Attachments. Doesn't marriage and-and having a baby kind of... go against all that?”

Rule of attachments? That sounded... weird.

“Correct me if I am misled,” Merrin started, “but from what I have gathered over time, that Jedi rule was to... warn against emotional attachment to people or things, yes?”

“Yes,” Kanan replied. “We were taught that our duty to the Light and to the good of the many came before all else. That it was selfish to hold one thing or person in regard above others and our duty, and that such attachments would lead to selfishness and possessiveness, which leads to darkness. So, a lot of the Order, especially older generations, interpreted that as 'no emotional attachments is better'.” Kanan sighed. “I'm definitely not the best advocate for the 'no attachments' rule. My crew is my family – Zeb’s my brother, Sabine’s a mix of a little sister and a daughter, Ezra might be my Padawan but honestly he's also my son at this point,” that admission made Ezra blush furiously in his hiding spot and frantically keep a tight hold on his mental shields to prevent his wild emotions from bleeding through – Kanan had definitely never said that to his face before, “and Hera… well she and I have talked about it before, about us , but it's not the same as talking to other Force users, let alone another Jedi.” Kanan cut off again, and the silence lingered for a moment. “I guess... I just wanted to know how you two... make it work.”

Another beat of silence made Ezra wonder if maybe he should leave, that this conversation really wasn't for him to hear. But on the other hand… this was important Jedi Code stuff. So it wasn't like he couldn't learn from it too. Right? It was probably a good lesson.

“To be honest... I'm not always a good Jedi,” admitted Cal. “I have moments of weakness, of fear, of selfishness, of anger. Giving in to the darkness is a real temptation sometimes. It's... a constant battle.” There was some shuffling, and peeking in, Ezra could see how Cal had gotten on the bed with Merrin, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “But that's part of having a soul. And fighting back against the Dark, touching it and recognizing it enough to step away, I've learned that's part of being a Jedi, too.”

“Love does not make you weak, Kanan Jarrus,” Merrin declared as she relaxed back into Cal's embrace. “The love I carry for my Sisters is what gives me strength, in an emotional and literal sense. Love is one of the deepest wells from which you can draw, I find. It empowers you.” She sighed tiredly. “My love for Cal and for our child help me remain hopeful.”

“It's something worth fighting for, to ensure that the future is better for them and for everyone.” Cal tenderly stroked a hand across Merrin's belly. “As long as it doesn't turn into obsession, love can be a great motivation. It's like those stories you hear of a parent lifting a crashed speeder to save their child trapped underneath. A Jedi though, you could probably move a whole ship,” Cal chuckled. He looked up at Kanan and smiled softly. “Love doesn't have to hold you back. In fact, it can be the thing that opens you to the Force and sets you free.”

“Emotion, yet peace; passion, yet serenity,” Kanan mumbled. Ezra watched his Master stand in contemplative silence. The man stroked his beard a few times and hummed absently.

Ezra was just about to turn away and leave when Merrin spoke up again, her eyes closed at this point. “So, when will we be hearing of your proposal to Hera Syndulla?” she asked with a tired smirk.

Kanan sputtered and full on blushed , ducking his head down in embarrassment as Cal choked on his laughter trying to keep it quiet. Ezra rolled his eyes to himself and finally stepped away from the door, moving to lean against the nearby wall. Yeah, that would happen, if Kanan ever got the balls to do something. Most likely, Hera would end up proposing. Or, Kanan would do it but entirely spur of the moment, fully unplanned and likely at an inopportune time. Either outcome was possible.

Speaking of Hera, not long later she reappeared around the bend of the hallway with an orderly and a spare cot in tow. She cocked an eyebrow at Ezra as they got closer. “Whatchya waiting out here for?”

“Kanan wanted to talk to them alone,” he replied, gesturing back with a thumb over his shoulder. “You can probably knock and go in, though.” Hera nodded and followed suit, holding the door open for the orderly when Cal softly called for them to come in. The orderly pushed the folded-up cot inside and Hera and Ezra followed behind. Cal was wedged beside and partially behind a lightly dozing Merrin, her head tucked beneath his chin and his arms surrounding her holding her close. It was objectively pretty cute.

“Here we are, hope you don't mind, it's a little smaller than the medical beds,” Hera explained in a low voice. Kanan stepped out of the way as she helped the orderly set up the cot on the far side of Merrin's bed as quietly as possible. Once done, the orderly gave them all silent a nod and left. Hera put her hands on her hips and took stock of the room. “There should be some extra pillows and blankets in one of these cabinets for you. Oh, and here.” She stuck a hand in her pocket and pulled out a piece of flimsi paper, reaching out with it. “My comm code, in case you need anything the nurses or med staff can't help you with.”

Cal took the flimsi scrap with a grateful smile, looking between the three of them. “Thank you. Seriously, thank you, for everything. For being so willing to accommodate and help us.” He turned and rested his cheek on Merrin's forehead. “We were... scared... that something really bad happened. And that we wouldn't be able to get help for our baby in time.”

“Well now you don't have to worry,” Kanan smiled reassuringly. “You guys just get some rest and we can talk more tomorrow.” Cal smiled brightly up at Kanan.

“Someone will probably be around soon to check on Merrin again. In the meantime, we'll give you both some space to take it easy,” Hera said. “We'll see you in the morning.” With a hand placed on Ezra's shoulder, she dimmed the lights and ushered him back out of the room, Kanan following not too far behind. Cal gave them a wave as the door closed.

The three of them slowly walked through the med center's hallways as things began to turn over for the night shift. “Man. It's really cool to be able to meet one of your old friends, Kanan,” Ezra remarked, crossing his arms up behind his head. “Y'think Cal would be willing to spar with me a little? I wanna see his fighting style.”

Kanan chuckled. “We'll see if he's up for it tomorrow. But understand he might want to stay by Merrin's side. That's his wife and unborn baby in that hospital bed.” He shook his head. Ezra felt the Force undulating around his Master as he tried to sort through his emotions. “As crazy as that still is to me.”

Disappointment briefly twinged in Ezra's chest, but he sighed and released it out into the Force, dropping his arms beside him. “Yeah, you're right. He'd probably be kinda distracted worrying about them to go over forms. But do you think I could at least go and talk to them some more?”

“I don't see why not,” Kanan smiled. “You can come with me whenever I head that way.”

“You could always make them breakfast and bring it over,” Hera chimed in, looking up from a datapad she pulled out at some point; no doubt she was going over the logistics of integrating the new group into the base for their stay of indeterminate length. “Some of your infamous waffles and jogan fruit syrup, maybe.”

“ Infamous? Oh, I know for a fact you love when I make waffles. See if I save you any after you besmirch them like that.”

“ Pfft , ‘besmirch’, really Kanan?” Hera laughed and went back to her datapad as Kanan began arguing his cooking merits while they walked. Ezra grinned to himself as they bantered. Hera laughed again, and Kanan’s fond expression was cavity-inducing levels of sweetness.

Trailing behind them a bit, Ezra watched Kanan catch Hera’s free hand in his, her left one specifically, and pass his thumb over her knuckles, circling a little over her ring finger.

Ezra smirked. Hm. Maybe Kanan had taken more of that conversation to heart than Ezra anticipated.

Good. They deserved that kind of happiness, too.