notallofus | (no subject)

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It was always different in space. The Force was always there, even in the deep of it, but not like this. Focusing on Lothal had meant spending much more time planetside, and at first, the difference had felt almost overwhelming. They always touched down in open plains, far from the major settlements, and yet these were teeming life, that energy running through all of them, a cacophony after the void Kanan had grown accustomed to in his meditation. He'd settled down near the base of one of Lothal's distinct, cylindrical hills, about ten meters from the Ghost. It was nearly silent, aside from the occasional rustle of wind through the grasses, and it would stay this way, until he reached out.

There was the bright sunlight, warming the soil, weaving into the tall grass. There was the dark of the mines, cold pressed earth and sharp mineral deposits, that he felt even several hundred kilometers away. There were packs of lothcats racing along the hills, insects crawling through the soil. There was a flock of edgehawks, tearing meat from the bones of a lothrat. There was all of this, and between it –

And within him –

No. There was something else. A song, soft enough that it could be the wind, yet he can feel every piece of its harmony, vibrating through him as though he were calling out in that same pitch. Something he hadn't felt in a long time.

Kanan opens his eyes. He presses his right hand to the ground, and then shoves himself up, heading back in the direction of the Ghost.

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Hera is actually not in the cockpit for once, but is instead in the cargo hold, securing a few crates and redistributing the loads for ballast. Empty vs. full changes things a lot, and the task is second-nature enough that she can let most of her mind ruminate over other matters.

Rebel matters.

"Ow!"

That's what pondering gets you, Hera thinks wryly, as she gently rubs the finger she caught between two crates, bruises.

Kanan is still distracted as he reaches the ship, to the point that he barely notices Hera as he passes through the cargo hold.

'Barely.' Which means he does say, quickly, "Hey."

"Hey," Hera says in return, frowning a little as she turns to follow Kanan with her eyes.

Something's off, she can tell that much, but what it is and why . . .

"Where are you rushing off to?"

"I, uh -"

He doesn't look back as he climbs to the upper deck.

"I need to check something."

"That's vague," Hera says, hastily knotting the last straps around the crate she was surveying and moving after Kanan.

"And vague usually means something unsettling."

"It's not -"

Kanan continues up, onward toward the cabins. "I'm not sure what it is yet."

"I hope you don't mind me being nearby while you figure it out."

If he does she'll . . . work with it. But she'd prefer not to have to, just now.

Kanan doesn't answer, but he also doesn't object.

He heads straight for his cabin, and once there, pulls open the drawer beneath his bunk. Still without a word, he reaches inside, and pulls out the holocron.

Hera's breath catches in the back of her throat as she catches sight of the Jedi device.

This is definitely Kanan's to deal with, but --

She still moves into his cabin, stationing herself just inside the door, back to the wall. Watching.

Kanan takes a seat up on the bunk, holding the holocron out in front of him.

And he stays that way. Eyes on the holocron, light glinting across its surface, but its center remaining dark.

He doesn't know. He's not even sure how to ask, or what he's asking.

But he takes a deep breath, and closes his eyes. He sees them again - the ship, Hera, Zeb, the sunlight, the tall grass, the lothcats. The cold below, and the warmth around them, and beyond it it, that soft song he'd known before -

His eyes stay closed, but blue light flickers within the holocron. It rises from his hand, its corners splitting off, spinning in slow circles around the center piece, and it keeps rising, away from him, toward the center of the room. The light within it flashes to a bright white.

And then it fills the whole room. Something like a hologram, but enormous, a pattern of millions of sparks that kindle in every corner of the cabin. Tiny shadows wink around the points of light, circling them, circling one another, and the whole of it turns, slowly, along the bright holocron still shimmering at the center of it.

It's not like looking up to a clear night sky, but rather stepping right up into it.

Edited 2018-01-30 03:24 (UTC)

It's so much. Every time Hera thinks of the Force, not just what Kanan can do with it, but what it is --

It's so . . . much. And the stars --

She's quiet, watching and waiting, wondering more than a little.

Kanan finally opens his eyes.

And they widen, slightly. Even he's a little startled by it. He rises from the bunk, stepping up among the stars.

"I felt something," he says, his eyes flashing among the many spinning systems. "Here on Lothal."

"Something . . . bad?"

Hera's a little apprehensive, because it's her job to plan ahead for difficulties, and this . . . . could be one. Or it could not be one. Or it could just be complicated.

"Or are you not sure yet?"

As Kanan steps forward, the stars begin to move, in quick flashes that cut through the dark room. The systems grow larger, and fewer, as they move outward from the Core, through to the Outer Rim, and then closer, and closer...

And then, in front of them, whittled down from million of stars, is a single sector. Just a handful of systems. Kanan reaches out his hand, toward one of those remaining stars, and as he does, a planet orbiting flutters, its colors changing from the pale hologram blue to a soft, warm gold.

"I can't believe it."

He still can't. Even after feeling it, looking for it, finding it. At last, he turns to Hera.

"There's a Jedi Temple here."

Edited 2018-01-30 07:27 (UTC)

"Here," Hera echoes blankly, skepticism tinging her tone despite her attempts to keep it out. Or maybe that's dry resignation, instead.

"On Lothal. And none of the Empire's goons have found it?"

"I don't know."

His eyes linger on the single, glowing planet, but then flicker down to the floor. "If it's in this holocron, the Empire likely has the same information."

Hera's voice softens a fraction.

"Maybe they're less invested than we are, and there's still time to find it."

She hesitates, taking a breath.

"If you wanted to look."

He blinks up to her, her face lit up by the soft glow of the hologram.

"This doesn't show where on Lothal it is," he says. "Just that it's here."

Which likely wouldn't stop the Empire from finding it eventually. But it's still a big planet, and likely not a high priority.

She looks back at him, his features blue-tinged and faintly speckled with stars.

"Isn't that better? You have . . . ways they don't."

Kanan takes a deep breath, lets it out. He holds up his hand, and the stars and planets flash away, leaving the room dark save for the blue light still pulsing within the holocron. It floats down, landing gently in his outstretched hand.

"Yeah, I think I could find it."

Hera lets that statement sit in the air between them for a moment, arms folded across her chest.

"But do you want to?"

That seems like one crux of the matter, now that he knows it's there.

Now that . . . maybe everyone who'd want to find it knows it's here. Or could know.

He closes his hand around the holocron, but the light still pulses within it.

"I'd like to know if the Empire found it."

"I would, too," Hera admits, because she does.

She unfolds her arms, lekku swaying gently as she also moves away from the wall of Kanan's cabin.

"We don't have a lot of downtime, but what we do have, we can use for this. If you want."

Kanan looks down to the holocron. He doesn't speak, but after a few seconds, he nods.

"But we'll have to be careful. I can just take the Phantom -"

Hera exhales, looking at him patiently, that faint softness still in her expression.

"Kanan."