Post-Relics of the Republic

It's good to be home again, and, oddly enough, on the newly-repurposed Phoenix Home, too. Kanan feels less exposed, which he wasn't expecting. But support, back-up, and more people on the lookout for important resources means somewhat less scrambling, and the odds can be stacked a little higher before doom is a foregone conclusion.

He guesses, anyway. But --

But he also feels sick to his stomach. There are clones on board, and although they're older than the ones he saw last -- Grey and Styles, Soot and Big-Mouth -- but maybe that's what his soldiers -- his friends would have grown into, if they'd been given the chance. If they hadn't betrayed -- no, they'd been betrayed, no matter how it looked from the outside. If Rex is right . . .

It's so hard to hold onto that, though. Harder than he wants it to be. They're good men, Rex and Wolfe and Gregor, but they've got the faces of his nightmares, and that's . . .

Maybe if he gets out of his own head a little, maybe . . . maybe that'll make this better. Somehow. Which is why he pulls himself away from the mess and goes looking for Hera. She'll be on the Ghost, he knows, and --

And that's probably better for him, too. More hands always help turn a slapdash field repair into something that'll last.