Kanan Jarrus (
notallofus) wrote2018-01-19 08:51 pm
Entry tags:
Post-Rise of the Old Masters
It's the unexpected resurgence of old loss that stings, and he can't seem to shake it. Even knowing about the existence of the Inquisitor, and that he's not going to stop coming for them -- for Ezra -- lacks some immediacy in the upwelling of a fresh feeling of being alone in the galaxy.
He'd thought for a minute that someone else was out there, someone experienced, a leader who could --
Admit it, Jarrus. You wanted someone who could take over for you, so you could go back to being a padawan, or maybe not even that.
It's going to stick with him, that frustration with both the situation and himself, and in order to try to do something productive with it, he goes to find Hera.
(He always goes to find Hera.)
"Did we get a signal out yet?"
He'd thought for a minute that someone else was out there, someone experienced, a leader who could --
Admit it, Jarrus. You wanted someone who could take over for you, so you could go back to being a padawan, or maybe not even that.
It's going to stick with him, that frustration with both the situation and himself, and in order to try to do something productive with it, he goes to find Hera.
(He always goes to find Hera.)
"Did we get a signal out yet?"

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"So was the Inquisitor's. But he didn't have a mask."
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She lets out a breath, and closes her eyes again, unfolding her arms and pressing one hand to her face. "I should've told you this before -"
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"But even I didn't think they would set a trap for Jedi specifically. I didn't really think they believed any of us were left. Not enough to put resources on it, anyway."
Kanan exhales.
"So there are more of them out there, and I don't have the faintest idea how to be sure how many, or where they are."
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Against her forehead, her hand curls into a fist. "And Ezra."
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Kanan rubs at his face with one hand.
"I know we talked about this, I know -- it makes all the rest of you even less safe, Hera, you know that."
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And she also remembers how much of this was her idea. Hera lowers her hand, pressing it briefly to her lips, and then under her chin.
"And maybe for that reason, it was only a matter of time."
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Frightened, lost, hopeful . . .
" -- I should have known they wouldn't leave a Jedi alive. I should have known it was too good to be true. Then they'd still be wondering, and we'd have at least a little more time."
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"But it's done now."
She turns, leaning her shoulder into the wall.
"And we wanted to help," she says, looking up to him now. "I don't want to lose that impulse too quickly."
Even if they also have to be smart about it.
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"No, I definitely don't want to lose that. Especially with Ezra. He's going to need more of that outward focus."
The struggle with the Dark Side is coming. It always does.
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"Kanan -"
Hera really has... no idea how to ask this question. Before her father's stories, she didn't really understand that such a thing existed.
"What... is a Dark Force user?"
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How do you explain the difference to someone that doesn't feel it? How was it explained to Caleb that first time, and maybe several times thereafter?
Accessing those memories is going to hurt, it always does, but maybe it will be helpful here.
And after a moment --
"They're someone that can use the Force, obviously. Like Jedi. But -- the Force has two sides. The Light and the Dark. The emotions you use to draw on them are . . . different. You touch the Light through serenity, peace, harmony, feeling at one with the galaxy, with yourself and with your neighbor. You touch the Dark through hatred, and fear, and anger. It . . . corrupts."
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But again, she's not sure how exactly to ask what she's thinking.
After a pause, she settles on, "Why aren't there more of them?"
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Or --
"Or it's easier to turn people than it is to start them off on the path to Darkness. And without the Jedi and other training grounds for Light-side Force users . . . "
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"But then -" She looks back up to Kanan. "Who are the ones we're seeing now?"
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Children with Force-sensitivities alone out there, untrained, untaught, taken by the Emperor and warped to fit his agenda?
Other padawans and Knights and maybe even Masters giving in to despair and rage and pain and. . . no. They wouldn't. None of them.
Would they? No.
"Force-sensitives have always been born, even without being Jedi. Maybe those . . . "
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"I was fifteen when the Perilous went down."
Hera's eyes drop to the floor.
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"Yeah."
Apparently he's not going to be able to avoid thinking about this.
"The Inquisitor definitely wasn't younger than me," he says.
There might be other ways to put that, better ways, but that's as close as he can get in this moment.
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Maybe they had to face this. But she also feels that she may have been right, who they are isn't important right now. Or at least, it's not what they need to focus on.
"What are we going to do about this?"
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Part of him can't believe he's saying this, but the rest of him is completely in tune.
"Rather not."
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Hera keeps her eyes on him now. "Is there something we can do? To prepare, for the next time we run into this?"
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He exhales.
"For the others -- smoother, sharper extraction plans that take avoiding someone like me into account. And training Ezra even harder so that he's less . . . vulnerable."
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"And what about you?"
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"I train, because I can't afford to be rusty anymore. Not with the lightsaber, not with the Force. There's no room for that."
Lifting Ezra back up into the ship shouldn't have taken nearly as much out of him as it did.
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There's a pause, but then she tries a hesitant smile.
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And it helps. A little.
"At least it's the start of a plan."
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