Archive of Our Own

The plan had been a good one, in theory. Which was, Asajj Ventress thought wryly, where things usually went wrong.

She and her husband Quinlan Vos had been dropping intel off for their handler, Maurice, who was well known in the Rebellion’s intelligence community. Mainly well known for being mysterious-- no one outside of his contacts knew what he looked like, where he’d come from, other than the fact that Fulcrum had recruited him, or who he was. But he brought good intelligence, and he hired the right people-- Ventress among them.

However, that wasn’t to say missions never went awry, and this, Ventress thought, was an excellent example of one that had gone very, very badly.

She shifted her weight slightly, trying to relieve the pain in her side where Vos’s elbow was firmly planted, but to no avail. Glaring at the dark room around her, Ventress thought, I’m going to kill someone for this.

The simple and embarrassing fact of the matter was, she and Vos were locked in a closet after being mistaken for Inquisitors by a pair of rebels.

Which was, frankly, irony at its finest.

There was a soft moan next to Ventress, and she felt Vos, who was crammed in next to her, start to stir. “Oh, good,” Ventress said. “You’re awake. Get your elbow out of my ribs.”

“Sorry,” Vos mumbled, sounding woozy. As he shifted, he said, “Ugh. My headache says hangover but my short term memory says… mugging?”

“Kidnapping,” Ventress corrected him. “Those two rebels mistook us for Inquisitors, remember? Thanks to my yellow saber, which is a downside today.”

“Apparently,” Vos agreed, his voice starting to sound a little more alert. “Okay-- where are our weapons?”

“Where do you think?” Ventress asked.

She heard him groan. “Well, this is not ideal. Hang on-- I might still have my emergency beacon. Check in my boot pocket for me?”

“You must be joking,” Ventress said as she started searching blindly for wherever Vos’s feet might be. “You really want to call this in? Being locked in a closet by a pair of rebels? I don’t think the girl was over eighteen.”

“Doesn’t make her any less formidable,” Vos pointed out. “Look at our employer. Sort of. Anyways, I’d prefer to settle this peacefully, as in a way that doesn’t involve us busting out, and sort out our differences.”

Ventress made a rude face she knew he couldn’t see in the dark. “Ugh. Sounds like something the Jedi would have said-- got it!”

Her hand wrapped around the worn leather of Vos’s boot, and she slid her hand down the side of it until she found the flap for the button down pocket where he hid the tiny emergency transmitter. 

They’d never used it-- Ventress had been determined to never have to. She and Vos could take care of themselves, and they didn’t need Maurice swooping in like the drama queen he was to save them. They shouldn’t, anyways. And yet here they were, two of the best warriors the Jedi Order and the Nightsisters had had to offer, locked in a closet by a teenage girl and her oddly purple companion.

Pulling out the disk, Ventress let out a sigh. “I can’t believe this.”

“It’s… less than ideal, yes,” Vos agreed. She felt his shoulder press against hers briefly, offering what comfort he could. “But we’ll be okay. Maurice’ll probably be here in a few hours, once we activate the beacon.”

“I know,” Ventress said, her voice disgruntled. “That’s what I can’t believe. I have to be rescued by him and his. You do realize his second in command will NEVER let this go, right?”

“A sacrifice we’ll have to be willing to make,” Vos said, and she felt his shoulders go up and down in a shrug against her.

Letting out a huff, Ventress muttered, “Fine. But I’m telling them that you were the one who got beat up by the teenager.”

“I mean, I was, so that’s more than fair,” Vos said as she pressed the activation button and the beacon gave a gentle vibration. “Look on the bright side of life. I can think of much worse people than you to be crammed in a closet with.

Ventress heard the grin in his tone, and rolled her eyes. “Don’t get any ideas just yet, handsome.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Vos’s tone was dripping with false innocence, and Ventress couldn’t help a small smile in return.

He had a point. There were worse people to get stuck in a closet with.

~ ~ ~

Hera Syndulla made her way back to the Ghost , her mind still going over her meeting with the contact she’d met with on Chandrila. There hadn’t been much intel other than the usual stuff-- the Empire was increasing work hours, setting curfews, doing everything they could to find the rebels who plagued them. They’re tightening their grip, Hera thought. And that made it even harder to actually help.

There had been one piece of information that had piqued her interest, though. Maurice had been on planet lately, visiting one of the refugee camps with a crate of supplies. Hera had asked to see the crate, and upon examining them, she’d discovered that they were from a supply depot on Filve.

A supply depot that Hera herself had been at two months ago, along with some semi-unexpected company.

Either he’s getting less subtle, or I’m just starting to see the signs that were there all along, she mused. Hera had long harbored theories about who the mysterious Maurice was, but ever since a trip to the tropical planet of Rion a couple of months ago, a few of her theories seemed to solidify. All she needed now was a confession-- but she was willing to wait.

Occupied as she was, Hera didn’t notice two figures waiting for her as she boarded her ship until she was actually in the cargo bay. But no sooner had she set foot in the bay then she suddenly realized that Garazeb Orrelios and Sabine Wren, two members of her small crew, were standing there. And while she was no Jedi, she could all but feel the guiltiness dripping off of them immediately.

“What’s going on?” Hera asked, folding her arms and narrowing her eyes at the two of them.

“Who says something’s going on?” Zeb said, his eyes darting from side to side.

Ooooh, someone’s in trouble, beeped Chopper from where he was watching above them. Zeb rounded on him, scowling.

“You shut it, you rustbucket! You’re as much a part of this as we are.”

“I’m going to want an explanation,” Hera cut in, her voice sharp. “Now, Zeb.”

Zeb grimaced, rubbing a hand along the back of his neck. “Right. That.”

“Here’s the thing,” Sabine said, looking nervous. “We were on our way back from shopping, and this pair approached us.”

“At first, we thought they were just gonna try and rough us up, take our credits,” Zeb said. “But--”

“It wasn’t long before we discovered that they were actually following us for a different reason,” Sabine finished. “After they took out someone who was following them to mug them.”

“What exactly are you getting at?” Hera asked.

“We’re pretty sure they were Inquisitors,” Zeb said. “Judging from all the nosy questions they were asking and, you know, the one lady’s lightsaber.”

Hera’s eyes went wide and her blood ran cold. ISB was one thing, but to have an Inquisitor after you? That meant she and the others were in a lot of trouble.

“Okay,” she said, keeping her voice steady. “Did you lose them? Do they know where we are?”

Sabine and Zeb exchanged a look. “Not really and kind of,” Zeb said.

“What?” Hera all but shouted.

“The thing is, when we saw they were Inquisitors, we didn’t really stop to consider what we should have done,” Sabine admitted. “And so we… kind of took them down.”

Hera’s jaw dropped. “You killed two Inquisitors? Are you crazy?”

“No, no,” Zeb said, waving his hands. “We didn’t do that, I promise.”

“No, it’s much worse,” Sabine said. “We kidnapped two Inquisitors.”

Gaping at them in disbelief for a moment, Hera finally dropped her head into her hands. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Lifting her head, she said, “You KIDNAPPED two Inquisitors? What-- that-- well, where are they?”

“In the closet,” Sabine told her.

Closing her eyes, Hera took a deep breath. “What?”

“We locked them in the closet,” Sabine said. “But we took away their weapons, I swear!”

Releasing a long sigh, Hera shook her head. “This is-- okay, we need to get off planet in case the Empire knows where we are. Chopper, run a full scan of the Ghost , make sure there aren’t any tracking devices here that we don’t know about. Zeb, stay with our guests, make sure they don’t try and make an escape.”

“And if they do?” Zeb asked.

“Get out of there as fast as possible and pray we have time to blow them out the airlock,” Hera said succinctly. “Let’s move, people.”

Thankfully, Hera ran a tight ship, and before long had passed, they were off of Chandrila and Hera had made the jump to hyperspace. Getting up from her seat, she told Chopper, “Keep an eye on things up here. Don’t interrupt me unless there’s an emergency, got it?”

Ma’am yes ma’am, Chopper beeped as Hera headed out of the cockpit and into her room. Once she was there, she moved to the holocom sitting next to her and keyed in the correct number.

It wasn’t more than a few minutes before the hooded figure popped up. “This is Fulcrum,” the modulated voice said.  “What’s going on?”

“We have a problem,” Hera told Fulcrum bluntly. “My crew took two Inquisitors captive.”

Fulcrum was silent for a very long minute. “Are you sure?” they finally asked.

“I tend to trust my crew’s judgement, so yes,” Hera responded. “I know it’s hard to believe that an Inquisitor would be so easily captured, but one of them had a lightsaber, and they were both asking questions. It could be that one was an Inquisitor and the other was an ISB agent, maybe?”

“Perhaps,” Fulcrum said, their voice almost absent as they thought. Finally, they said, “I have an idea of who it could be you’re handling. Luckily, I have an agent who can take care of this. Where are you?”

“We decided not to stay where we are-- too great a possibility of being caught,” Hera said, and Fulcrum gave a nod of approval. “Right now we’re on our way to Lothal.”

“Perfect. I’ll have my agent meet you there. Don’t worry-- he’ll know where to find you.”

With that, Fulcrum flickered away, leaving Hera to wonder who exactly she had locked up in her closet, and who was coming to pick them up.

~ ~ ~

The dim blue glow of lightsabers on low power mode illuminated the training room as Kanan Jarrus faced off with his apprentice. Ezra bounced on the heels of his feet, anticipation flickering across his face as he flexed his hands against the hilt of his saber. His gaze flicked from Kanan to their onlookers and back again.

“Focus,” Kanan reminded him as the two of them circled each other. “Don’t let outside influences distract you. If you don’t keep your focus--”

Ezra moved in that instant, his saber crashing against Kanan’s. Kanan fended him off, the speed of the attack forcing him back a few steps. “I think I get the idea,” Ezra said with a cocky grin, one of the ones that reminded Kanan almost too much of who he’d been, once. 

“Good,” he told Ezra. “But you can’t rely on surprise alone. Your greatest weapon--”

“Is the razor-sharp glow stick you’re carrying,” Kasmir called from the sidelines, and Kanan rolled his eyes.

“Wrong. Your greatest weapon is practice. And the Force.”

“Isn’t that two weapons?” Kasmir asked.

Keeping his gaze locked on Ezra, Kanan said, “Why don’t you come over here and I’ll show you how it works, old man?”

He heard Kasmir chuckle, but didn’t change his focus. Instead, he went on the offensive, lunging towards Ezra. Their sabers slammed together, and they exchanged blows, their lightsabers whirling.

Finally, Kanan called a halt, and the two of them deactivated their sabers. “You did a good job today,” he told Ezra, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

The boy all but glowed from the praise, although he tried to act nonchalant. “Really? I mean-- thanks.”

“Not bad, Jediling,” Kasmir said from where he was lounging on the sidelines next to the other two lookers-on. “Not long before you can give Kanan a run for his money.”

“And then it’ll be my turn,” said the young woman next to him. She was older than Kanan, although not by much, with dark hair braided to the side and dark clothing. A saber hung by her side, and Kanan knew that she could use it.

“That’s a little terrifying, Trilla,” he told her.

Trilla rolled her eyes. “I just want to educate your apprentice, that’s all. I taught you, after all, didn’t I?”

“Fair point,” Kanan acknowledged.

From Kasmir’s other side, Jyn Erso said, “I didn’t know you taught Kanan, Trilla.”

“Well, I wasn’t fully trained,” Kanan pointed out. “And Trilla was… less not fully trained. So she gave me a few pointers.”

“Someone had to,” Trilla grumbled. “And Kasmir certainly wasn’t doing him any favors.”

Kasmir’s protest and Jyn’s laughter was cut short a few minutes later when the final member of the crew, Okadiah Garson, stepped into the training room, his white brows furrowed in concern.

“Kanan, lad, you have a transmission,” he told Kanan.

Feeling worry welling up in him, Kanan said, “A transmission doesn’t usually mean you’re wearing that face. What’s going on?”

“Someone set off Mackenzie’s emergency beacon,” Okadiah said, and all other talk in the room died instantly.

Oh, no. Kanan knew his agents well. None of them would set off their beacons on a whim, let alone this agent. “What do we know?” he asked Okadiah quietly.

“We started receiving the transmission roughly five minutes ago,” Okadiah responded. “I tried to lock onto it, but it seems that wherever he is, Mackenzie is on the move.”

“Anything from Rigby?” Kanan asked, naming Mackenzie’s partner.

As Okadiah shook his head, Ezra interrupted, “So, we don’t even know where Vos is, let alone Ventress?”

Shaking his head, Okadiah said, “Not yet. Orders?”

His eyes were on Kanan as he spoke, as were everyone’s. It was times like these that Kanan really felt the weight of his position. Because whatever he did next, there was a serious chance his actions caused someone their lives.

“Keep trying to pinpoint Mackenzie’s location,” he told Okadiah. “I want eyes on that at all times. And while you’re at it, see if you can remotely activate Rigby’s beacon. Kasmir-- where are we right now?”

“Set down on Carida while you were sleeping,” the Kalleran said, his face uncharacteristically grave. “I can have us in the air in fifteen minutes.”

“Do that,” Kanan told him. “Oke, as soon as you have a location, Kasmir does. Got it?”

The two men nodded and headed towards their respective jobs. Next to Kanan, Trilla asked, “Are you going to want backup?”

Kanan considered for a moment, then shook his head. “Not this time. You’d better get back to work.”

Trilla nodded, and clasped his arm in a quick goodbye. Lowering her voice, she said, “Get them back safe. We can’t afford to lose anymore.”

As the woman made her way out, Kanan released a short sigh. I know, he thought. Force, I know.

“Is Vos gonna be okay?”

Ezra’s voice brought Kanan out of his thoughts, and he turned to see his apprentice watching him, his normally bright expression unusually fearful. Next to him, Jyn wore the fierce look that meant she was hiding similar fear-- Kanan had learned to read the girl by this time. “Yeah,” he told them. “He’s going to be fine.”

“You can’t know that,” Jyn pointed out. She hadn’t accepted any of Kanan’s attempts at reassurance in the beginning. Even now, she always wanted the truth and nothing less, no matter how much Kanan tried to protect her. “For all you know--”

“You’re right, I can’t know for sure,” Kanan said calmly. “But Vos and Ventress can handle themselves, and most importantly, they have friends watching their back-- us. So no matter what’s happening, we will do everything we can to get them out of it. Okay?”

This seemed to calm even Jyn, although Kanan could still see traces of worry on both of the kid’s faces. “Okay,” Ezra said. “What happens next?”

“We wait,” Kanan said. “Okadiah will monitor Vos’s beacon, Kasmir’s gonna get us in the air, and I’m going to reach out to a few contacts, see if I can’t get some idea of what happened. You two sit tight-- I’ll let you know if I find anything.”

He’d only just made it into the kitchen when he heard it-- the chime that meant he was getting a call.

Kanan stopped in his tracks, hope flickering through him. Could it be-- oh, please . With any luck, he was about to get a call in which Vos apologized for accidentally setting off his beacon and Ventress mocking him in the background. Please let that be what I’m about to see , Kanan hoped.

“Wait out here,” he told Jyn and Ezra, and ducked out of the kitchen and into his office, where his holocom was ringing. As Kanan stepped towards it, the communicator at his hip beeped. It was Okadiah-- You have a secure line. Clearly he wasn’t the only one who’d heard his holocom ringing.

Kanan keyed it on, and a familiar hooded figure sprang to life in front of him. Feeling a sting of disappointment-- and surprise-- Kanan said, “Fulcrum?”

“Hello, Kanan,” Fulcrum said. “It’s been a while.”

“It has,” Kanan agreed.”What’s up? I have something urgent going on, so if you can make this quick, I’d appreciate that--”

“You’ve misplaced one of your agents, haven’t you?” Fulcrum said. “Let me guess-- Mackenzie and Rigby?”

Stunned, Kanan stared at her. “What-- yeah, actually. How did you know?”

Their voice was rueful as Fulcrum replied, “Because I know who has them.”

A frown knitting Kanan’s eyebrows. “You’d better explain this,” he told Fulcrum. “Because I can honestly say I have no idea what’s going on.”

Releasing a sigh, Fulcrum explained, “One of my contacts recently reported that they took two Inquisitors captive. For a while, I thought they actually had-- but then I checked a few reports, and connected a few dots, and realized that Vos and Ventress may have been mistaken for Inquisitors.”

“It’s a fair mistake,” Kanan said wryly, thinking of Ventress’s intimidating air and bone white skin. He’d had a hard enough time when he’d first met her-- who could have gotten the jump on her? “Okay, so what’s your plan here?”

“I know where they’re going,” Fulcrum said. “And they’re expecting someone to come and handle their little issue. All you have to do is go to Lothal and pick up Vostress. Easy in, easy out.”

“Seems like you have it all figured out,” Kanan observed. “How far do I trust these people? Who exactly do I tell them I am?”

Fulcrum was silent for a moment. Then they said, “You trust them with your life. And you tell them what you want. Consider permission given.”

With that, the hologram flickered away, leaving Kanan with a hefty amount of confusion, but a whole lot less worry. At least Vostress are safe, he mused as he opened the door to where Ezra and Jyn were waiting. But I wonder what Fulcrum meant about this contact of hers.

“Well?” Ezra asked.

“The good news is they’re safe and not in Imperial hands,” Kanan said, and Ezra released a long sigh of relief, Jyn’s expression lighting up considerably.

“Oh, good! I was super worried for a while there-- wait, what’s the bad news?”

Making his way down the hall towards the cockpit, Kanan said over his shoulder, “We have to go pick them up. Kasmir! We have a heading and some good news.”

The crew took the news about Vos and Ventress with relief, and the news that they’d been mistaken for Inquisitors and they needed to be picked up in their stride. Except Kasmir, who thought it was hilarious, but that surprised no one.

It was only a few hours later that they came out of hyperspace above Lothal, and Kasmir brought them down towards the signal they were still tracing.

“So, what exactly should we be expecting?” the Kalleran asked Kanan as they settled into a low glide above the Lothalian prairie. “I mean, with Fulcrum’s agents, we could be about to meet a refined senator or some kind of scruffy lowlife.”

“I can’t tell whether that was a dig at me or not,” Kanan mused. “But the same can be said about my agents. Honestly, I don’t know what we’re going to find. Fulcrum didn’t tell me much.”

“Excellent news-- you’re about to find out,” Okadiah informed him. “The ship we’re looking for is just over there-- between those rock formations.”

As Kasmir circled around, Kanan got to his feet, saying, “Alright, let’s see what kind of person kidnaps an Inquisi--”

His words froze on his tongue as he saw the ship in question. A hexagonal vessel that Kanan recognized as a VCX-100 Corellian freighter, which was unusual enough. But with the paintings on the side that Kanan would recognize anywhere, it could only belong to one person. All he could think was, So that’s what Fulcrum meant.

“Nice ship,” Kasmir commented as he brought them down for a landing. “Kinda looks like-- wait.” He swivelled around in his chair and caught sight of Kanan’s face. “Oh, you’re kidding. It’s her ship, isn’t it?”

“Is it?” Okadiah sounded delighted as he craned his neck, leaning forward to study the freighter. “Why, I think it is! That’s the Ghost , unless my eyes are cheated by some spell.”

“They’re not,” Kanan said. “That’s the Ghost. ”

“Really.” Kasmir cast a sly glance at him. “And what are you going to tell her?”

Kanan was silent for a long moment. His mind could only conjure up one thing, other than thoughts of the crew that had landed only a few yards away, and that was what Fulcrum had said. You tell them what you want. Consider permission given. Was Ahsoka telling him what he hoped she was?

Either way, Kanan was more than willing to interpret it that way. “The truth,” he said. “I’m going in. All cards on the table.”

Kasmir’s eyes shot wide. “Really?”

Nodding, Kanan said, “Fulcrum told me to trust them with my life.” Or something. “And she knows what she’s talking about.”

“I’ve GOT to be here for this,” Kasmir said, starting to get out of his seat, but Kanan put a hand on his shoulder. 

“Oh, no you don’t. I’m going in alone.”

“Not a chance,” Kasmir said. “But if I can’t go… take Ezra.”

Kanan started to protest, but Okadiah was nodding. “An excellent plan. You have backup in case she’s furious and kicks you off of the ship, and we have someone who can keep an eye on you and make sure you don’t make a fool of yourself.”

Fear knotted in Kanan’s gut at Okadiah’s first words. What if he was right? What if Hera was furious at him for lying to her? What if she hated him?

Come on, Jarrus. You know what you signed up for. Time to face the music.

“Okay,” he told Okadiah. “I’ll take Ezra, but you guys are staying here. Got it?”

“But of course,” Okadiah said. “Now, you’d better get going. No sense in making the lady wait, after all.”

Smirking, Kasmir drawled, “Oh, we definitely wouldn’t want that.”

Shaking his head, Kanan said, “I don’t like either of you.”

Leaving the cockpit, he told Ezra and Jyn what was going on. Ezra was, predictably, all but vibrating with excitement, while Jyn was extremely on the fence. “Are you sure I can’t come and watch your back?” she asked him, her gaze wary as they headed for the exit.

“As much as I appreciate that, I want you here,” Kanan told her. Jerking a thumb over his shoulder, he added, “Keep an eye on the old men for me.”

“We can hear you, kid,” Kasmir yelled. He and Okadiah had set up lawn chairs at the base of the ramp, and Okadiah held a set of macrobinoculars that Kanan really didn’t want to think about too much.

“Don’t call me kid,” he called back.

Jyn cracked a reluctant grin, which vanished in a second. “Okay. Don’t do anything dumb, either of you.”

“Never,” Ezra said, grinning broadly. “Come on, Kanan, let’s go!”

Taking a deep breath, Kanan turned and led the way towards the Ghost .

The ramp was already lowered, so it was just a matter of walking onboard, where a Lasat was sitting on a crate, his bo-rifle resting on his knee.

“You must be--” he started and then came to an abrupt halt when he saw who it was. “Wait. You? What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to see Hera,” Kanan said simply.

Zeb stared at him, then at Ezra, then at him again. “Right,” he said sarcastically. “And who should I say is here?”

Here goes nothing. “Maurice,” Kanan said, and Zeb’s jaw dropped.

“What-- bu--” he gaped at Kanan for another minute, then his jaw snapped shut and he wordlessly headed for the ladder leading into the upper part of the Ghost .

This gave Kanan a few minutes to breathe, and hope, beyond all hope, that Hera wasn’t going to hate him after this. Next to him, Ezra whispered, “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” Kanan said, keeping his gaze on the hallway that Zeb had disappeared down.

He felt Ezra watching him for another minute, then his apprentice said, “It’s gonna be okay. Don’t worry.”

Kanan almost laughed at that. “You know, it’s supposed to be my job to tell you that,” he pointed out, and Ezra shrugged.

“Everyone needs to hear it sometimes,” he said with an easy grin.

Whatever response Kanan might have given stopped short when he heard footsteps, and Hera Syndulla appeared above him.

She slipped down the ladder and moved to face him, her expression unreadable, and Kanan felt his heartbeat pick up a notch. Here it comes.

And then, of all things, a smile spread across Hera’s face. “Well, if it isn’t the mysterious Maurice,” she said, her eyes all but dancing with amusement. “What a shock.”

Kanan felt a matching smile growing on his face. “You knew,” he said.

Shrugging, Hera said, “I had my suspicions for a while, but I only really figured it out recently. I don’t know if I would have ever figured it out if you didn’t have a bit of a penchant for the dramatic.”

“I don’t know if dramatic is the right word,” Kanan said. He found it almost too easy to slip into the joking banter he and Hera had, and he wondered if she felt the same way. “Flair, maybe?”

“Oh, really?” Hera raised an eyebrow at him. “And was it flair that made you sneak the datacard you were supposed to be bringing me into my pocket while we were talking?”*

A grin tugged at the corner of Kanan’s mouth at the memory. “Well--”

“And when we bumped into each other at the grocery store and you had an Imperial officer chained to your shopping cart, that was flair, too?”

Shrugging, Kanan said, “It was an effective method to get what I wanted from him and finish the shopping at the same time.”

“How about the armor you wear with your mark on it?” Hera nodded to the army green armor Kanan wore even now along one of his arms, his symbol painted on the pauldon in white. “Let me guess-- flair?”

Holding up his hands as if in surrender, Kanan said, “Okay, you’ve made your point. I’m occasionally-- occasionally-- dramatic. You’re right again. You’re always right.”

Shooting him a quick smile, Hera said, “And you’d do well to remember it, love.”

Next to Kanan, Ezra made a choking noise that reminded him that his apprentice was, in fact, still there, watching them. Hera seemed to realize the same thing-- her gaze shifted to him curiously. “Who’s this?”

“Oh, uh, right,” Kanan said. Eye on the ball here, Jarrus . “This is Ezra. Ezra, this is Captain Hera Syndulla.”

“Yeah, I know,” Ezra said, grinning as he held out a hand to Hera. “Nice to meet you, Captain. Kanan has nothing but good stuff to say about you.”

Hera gave him a smile as she shook his hand. “Kanan has been known to exaggerate. But you’re very kind, and please, call me Hera.”

As Ezra grinned in response, looking deeply pleased, Kanan looked at Hera. “We should probably talk about why I’m here.”

Hera nodded. “We can talk in the lounge. Follow me.” She paused. “Is this a discussion we should have in private, or…?”

Before Kanan could answer, Ezra said, “I can wait down here. Right, Kanan?”

Kanan hesitated. He was hesitant to leave his apprentice alone in an unknown place-- but this wasn’t an unknown place. This was the Ghost , Hera’s ship, and he could trust the crew. He already trusted the captain.

“Okay,” he said with a nod. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

Ezra nodded, hopping onto a crate and settling into a comfortable position to wait, and Kanan followed Hera up the ladder and down the hall. As they moved, one of the doors swished open and both Sabine and Zeb stepped out. Zeb shot Kanan a suspicious look. “What exactly are your intentions here?”

“Fulcrum sent him, Zeb,” Hera told the scowling Lasat. “And like he said before, he’s Maurice. I’m pretty sure we can trust him.”

“Is that true?” Sabine asked, her golden-brown gaze piercing as she scrutinized Kanan.

Nodding, Kanan said, “Yes.”

“I can’t believe I didn’t guess,” Sabine muttered.

Kanan shrugged. “In your defense, I didn’t look-- or act-- like a leader of a spy network. But that was kind of the point.”

Zeb let out a skeptical grunt. “Where did you leave your undersized companion?”

Kanan pushed away the twinge of defensiveness he felt. Getting in a fight with one of Hera’s crew was not a good way to spend his time. However, he could help but put a little emphasis on his words as he said, “His name is Ezra, and he’s down in the cargo bay.”

“Without anyone watching him? I don’t think so.” Zeb stomped towards the cargo bay, Sabine on his heels, and Hera glanced at Kanan with a wince.

“There’s a good chance he’s about to get the third degree from those two. Should I--”

Shaking his head, Kanan said, “Ezra can handle himself. Odds are he’ll give as good as he’ll get.”

Hera gave him a quick nod. Leading the way into the lounge just beyond the hallway they were in, she remarked, “He seems like a good kid.”

“He is,” Kanan replied. “Manages to stay in trouble more often than he’s out of it, but he’s in good company with my crew.”

“Now why doesn’t that surprise me?” Hera asked as they stopped in the lounge and she turned to face him. Kanan couldn’t prevent a grin from tilting his mouth.

“I couldn’t imagine why,” he said.

Hera returned the smile, and Kanan pushed his mind into the business space before he was too lost in the soft edges of her warm look. “Okay, so Fulcrum said that you’d kidnapped two Inquisitors?”

“Yes-- and Fulcrum said that you’d deal with it.” Hera’s voice held a questioning edge, and Kanan guessed what she was thinking.

“That’s not going to be necessary,” he said, answering her unspoken question. “The thing is-- you may have been mistaken when you said they were Inquisitors.”

Hera frowned, her eyebrows knitting, and Kanan wondered how a simple gesture could catch his attention so thoroughly. “What do you mean?”

Grimacing, Kanan said, “I mean they’re two of mine. And they were really stupid about their interactions with your crew. And completely insubtle. Again. Let me guess-- yellow lightsaber?”

“Yes-- that was why we thought of the Inquisitor, because I’ve never seen a Jedi with that color saber.”

Making a face, Kanan said, “Rigby’s… not really a Jedi. But I promise, they’re harmless. To those they don’t want to harm. If you’ll let me take them, we’ll be out of your way in no time.”

Hera sighed. “Yes, of course you can-- and I have some apologizing to do for this, especially… where we locked them up.”

Frowning, Kanan cocked an eyebrow. “Dare I ask?”

“Do you remember walking past a small storage closet down in the cargo bay?”

“Yeah, it--” Kanan stopped short as he realized what Hera was saying. “You’re kidding.”

“Unfortunately, I am not.”

A grin started to grow on Kanan’s face. “You’re telling me that you locked them in the closet? Both of them? They’re down there right now?”

“Yes,” Hera said, her expression starting to change from semi-embarrassed to “is this guy crazier than I originally thought.” “Why--”

Kanan let out a snort of laughter that only grew until he was all but leaning against the wall. Swiping away tears, he said, “This-- this is going to be great. Ventress is going to be SO angry about this-- don’t take it personally, she’s always angry about something.”

“Ventress?” Hera asked, her eyebrows shooting up. “As in the Seperatist assassin?”

“Reformed assassin,” Kanan corrected her as he managed to get his amusement under control. “I’ll introduce you properly.”

As Hera led the way to the cargo hold, she remarked, “Finally, I get to meet one of your agents. I can’t lie, I’ve been pretty curious.”

Kanan paused. “Oh. Uh, you’ve met a couple, actually.”

“What??”

“Yeah,” Kanan said as Hera gaped at him. “Some of them aren’t exactly what you’d expect--”

“Who?” she demanded. “Where?”

Frowning, Kanan considered briefly how much he could tell her. “Well, on Kijimi, the place where you picked up Zeb was owned by two of my first agents. Kasmir, obviously. You met Cara Dune on Rion, and then there’s Korkie--”

“Korkie?” Hera said, one of her eyebrows shooting up. “That guy who you were dragging around when I gave you a ride off of Tholoth?”

“That’s the one,” Kanan confirmed. “There are a handful of others-- but there’s only so much I can tell you, for the sake of privacy and your own safety.”

Hera nodded her understanding, her gaze lingering on him for a moment. “You’re different like this,” she remarked quietly. “Different, but also the same.”

Meeting her eyes, Kanan asked, “Is it a good different?”

“I could learn to live with it,” Hera said with a slight smile, and Kanan felt something like relief tugging at him. He’d been afraid-- maybe more than he’d been able to admit to himself-- that things would be different. That how Hera felt about him would be different, and maybe it would. But maybe it would be a better difference.

Hera led the way down into the cargo bay, where Ezra was talking with Zeb and Sabine. As the two of them entered, Ezra looked up. “Kanan, guess what? I know Zeb!”

“What?” Kanan and Hera spoke at the same time. “How do you know Zeb?” Kanan demanded.

“Remember that time you lost me on Lothal?” Ezra asked. “And there was that disturbance in the Imperial spaceport that I told you I wasn’t part of?”

Sighing, Kanan said, “I don’t want to know.”

“Agreed,” Hera said. “Zeb, you and Sabine are about to have some apologies to make.” She explained the situation to an increasingly horrified Zeb and Sabine.

“You’re telling me that those two--” Zeb started.

“Are two of Maurice’s agents,” Hera finished. “Yes. Which means you need to apologize to them. Both of you, I might add. Is that clear?”

The Lasat and the Mandalorian nodded as Kanan managed to keep his face straight. Watching Hera scold her crew like a pair of naughty children was a little more entertaining than it should have been. But he’d always liked watching her boss people around, if he was being honest.

“The important part is, no one’s hurt,” he said. “However, if we don’t let those two out soon, someone will be. Probably Vos, when Ventress loses all self-control and kills him.”

“Right.” Hera stepped forward and keyed open the door to the closet. She stepped back just in time as Quinlan Vos spilled out with a dramatic gasp.

“GAH! AIR!” He rolled away from the entrance as Ventress scrambled after him, somehow looking more dignified than her companion, but very, very irritated.

“Alright, who’s going to pay for--” her eyes landed on Kanan, and she groaned. “Oh, no, Vos’s beacon worked.”

“Beacon?” Hera questioned, and Ventress’s gaze snapped to her.

Before she could speak, Kanan explained, “Most of my agents have some kind of emergency beacon in case they’re caught and I need to come and pick them up. Developed it after a friend of mine got locked up about two years ago.”

“Remarkably intelligent of him,” Vos agreed from where he was face down on the ground. “I see we’ve been acquitted of our charges as Inquisitors?”

“Yes, you have,” Hera agreed as Zeb helped Vos up. “And let me just say, I’m very sorry for the misunderstanding. As are my crewmembers.”

As Sabine and Zeb hastily agreed, Vos waved off the apologies. “Oh, it’s not a problem. Happens all the time. Okay, not really, but I have been mistaken for a Sith before.”

“Because you were one at the time,” Ventress pointed out.

Shrugging, Vos said, “A legendary screw up that was shortly rectified. Anyways, don’t hold it against yourselves, you were only being careful, Captain--”

“Syndulla,” Hera said, shaking his hand. “Hera Syndulla.”

Vos’s eyes lit up, and Kanan internally groaned. Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me. “The Hera Syndulla?” he asked. “The incredibly talented pilot and strategist and one of the Rebellion’s most determined members?”

“All right,” Sabine said. “I like him.”

Pointing at her, Vos said, “And I like you, random Mandalorian! You’ve got a mean left hook.”

“I had no idea we were in such a vaunted presence,” Ventress said, her grin just a little more wicked than Vos’s. “Obviously, we could never hold a grudge against such an impressive person.”

“Well, thank you,” Hera said slowly, her expression semi confused. “But I don’t know where you would have heard such a glowing report.”

Ventress’s grin widened, if that was possible, as she said, “Why, from Kanan, of course. He has nothing but the best to say about you, I assure you.”

Kanan bit back a grimace-- there were so many different ways this could go, and some of them were very unfortunate. Hera held Ventress’s gaze calmly as she said, “As I’m sure you know from experience with him, Kanan exaggerates.”

“Oh, very true,” Ventress agreed. “But not, I think, with this.” Glancing at Kanan, she said, “I assume the Submarine is waiting outside?”

“It is,” Kanan said.

“Perfect. Vos, let’s go-- we’re going to need a ride to Carida.”

“Left the Banshee there,” Vos explained, following Ventress out of the cargo bay. “Farewell, Captain Syndulla. Such a pleasure to finally meet you. Kanan, make sure you get our stuff.”

As the two of them disappeared, Hera glanced at Kanan. “How many people have you told about me, exactly? And what, for that matter?”

“Uh--” For once, Kanan had no idea what to say. What was he supposed to tell her, that he’d talked about her one too many times around more than a few of his agents and they’d begun to extrapolate wildly?

To his utter surprise, Ezra cut in. “Kanan might exaggerate sometimes, but one place he doesn’t is talking about other people’s skills,” he told Hera. “He can’t really afford to. So whatever he mentioned to the others is completely true. As for how many… probably not as many as you’re thinking. Just one or two. Probably.”

Lifting an eyebrow, Hera said, “I’m somewhat skeptical, but I’ll accept that.”

Regaining his equilibrium, Kanan said, “We’d better get going. Ezra, are you ready?”

“Yup!”

“You’re going to want your friend’s weapons, I assume,” Sabine said. Dashing up the ladder, she slipped into the hallway, then returned with both Vos and Ventress’s lightsabers, Vos’s blaster and Ventress’s plasma energy bow. Kanan accepted them, clipping both sabers to his belt and handing the bow to Ezra to carry.

Turning to Hera, he gave her a nod. “Thanks for your help with this.”

“Not a problem.” Hera hesitated visibly for a moment, then said, “I suppose that’s it, isn’t it?”

Kanan knew what she meant. Even though she knew who he was now, things couldn’t change. Not really. He still had to keep so many secrets, secrets that she knew he was keeping now. And anything built on a bedrock of secrets wouldn’t hold up for long, whatever that anything might be.

“I suppose so,” he said quietly. Holding out his hand and almost hating himself for the sheer formality of his goodbye, he said, “Until next time.”

The smile Hera gave him held a hint of sorrow as she replied, “Until next time.” She clasped his hand, and Kanan felt his heart stutter at the feeling of her skin against his.

And then she let go, and it was time to leave.

Ezra bid Zeb and Sabine farewell, and the two of them headed out of the Ghost , and back towards the Yellow Submarine. At this point, Okadiah, Jyn and Kasmir had disappeared inside, along with Vos and Ventress.

As they walked, Ezra commented, “They seem nice. I mean, Zeb doesn’t seem to be your biggest fan, but otherwise, nice enough.”

“Yeah,” Kanan said absently. “Just be glad Hera’s droid, Chopper, wasn’t there. He makes Zeb seem like he’s carrying a welcome basket and is ready to be your best friend. Anyways, Zeb’s just protective of Hera. And I can’t blame him.”

“Hmm.” Ezra was silent for a moment, then asked, “She calls you love?”

Hearing the amusement in his apprentice’s voice, Kanan released a long sigh. “Drop it, kid.”

~ ~ ~

It was three weeks later that Fulcrum called Kanan again. Ezra was there when he got the call, and disappeared into his comm room to take it. Glancing at Jyn, he said, “What do you think that’s about?”

The older girl shrugged as she effortlessly disassembled the blaster rifle she had, then reassembled it. “A new mission, maybe? Or maybe Vos got himself locked in another closet.”

Ezra snorted in amusement as Kanan reappeared. Turning to Kanan, he asked, “What’s up?”

His master looked mildly confused as he said, “Apparently, Fulcrum thinks it’s too dangerous to have a direct line to me except in an emergency-- something about how the Empire would get two spymasters for the price of one. So, we’re going to be working with one of Fulcrum’s representatives from now on instead.”

“Really?” Ezra asked. “Is it a full team, or just one person?”

“I have no idea.” Kanan dropped down next to the table, a frown knitting his eyebrows.

“Something wrong, kid?” Kasmir asked from where he was frying grilled cheese for lunch.

Kanan didn’t even seem to notice Kasmir calling him kid, which was unusual. “I don’t know-- it’s just strange. Why does Fulcrum suddenly want a representative now? She’s never been that concerned about this kind of thing before.”

Kasmir shrugged. “Maybe she lost an informant recently and she’s getting more cautious. Or she knows that the Empire has a sizeable price on your head and she doesn’t want to risk one of her best agents.”

“Maybe,” Kanan muttered. “Well, she’s sending this representative to meet us above Garel. So, Kasmir, you’d better get cracking. And don’t call me kid.”

Kasmir grumbled something under his breath, but made his way up to the cockpit. A matter of minutes later, the grilled cheeses were burning and they’d made the jump to hyperspace.

It wasn’t more than a few days before they came out above Garel. Almost seconds after they arrived, the proximity alarm went off-- someone was boarding the Submarine.

“They’re transmitting the code Fulcrum gave me,” Kanan reported as he, Kasmir and Ezra headed down to the airlock. “So odds are it’s our new friend.”

“Who do you think it is?” Ezra wondered aloud. “Will we know them?”

Kanan sighed. “Who can say? I just hope they’re easy to deal with. The Rebellion’s doing well enough, but it still has its share of--”

He stopped halfway through his sentence as the airlock door hissed open, and a familiar figure stepped through. Ezra’s eyes went wide at the sight of Hera Syndulla, who wore an amused look. Probably in reaction to Kanan, who looked like he’d been hit over the head with a frying pan.

“Wh-- how--” Kanan stuttered, his expression totally stunned.

“Don’t hurt yourself, dear,” Hera said, looking deeply satisfied. Next to Ezra, Kasmir snorted loudly.

“I knew I liked her.”

Raising an eyebrow at Kasmir, Hera said, “Charmed, I’m sure.” Turning back to Kanan, she told him, “As you may have put together, I’m Fulcrum’s representative. Fulcrum would like me to let you know that you can trust me as fully as you trust them-- and that we’ll be working together for a while. Unless you have a problem with that?”

“No.” Kanan’s response came almost too fast, and Ezra had to hide a grin. Shaking his head, Kanan said, “That is-- no. Not at all.” He almost visibly pulled himself together, then asked, “Where’s the rest of your crew?”

“I didn’t know how you’d feel about them meeting your crew-- I know that it’s important to you that they remain safe,” Hera replied. “However, now that we’re going to be working together on a more regular basis--”

“It’s probably a good idea for there to be a few introductions,” Kanan finished. “Sounds like a plan.”

“I’ll get them, in that case,” Hera said, and Ezra caught a hint of a smile crossing her lips as she headed back into her ship to fetch her crew.

The two groups met in the kitchen of the Yellow Submarine , where Kanan and Hera started introductions. And that was when things started getting weird.

Ezra had known that Hera had met Kasmir and Okadiah on two separate occasions. And he knew that he’d encountered Zeb once. But he hadn’t known that Jyn and Sabine had worked together to steal Imperial supplies on Garel a few years back. Or that Chopper, Hera’s droid, had helped Okadiah hack into an Imperial database once. Or that Kasmir had sold Zeb and Sabine an Imperial droid two months ago.

“This is so weird,” Ezra said, shaking his head. 

“Forget weird,” Sabine said. “This is strategically impossible.”

“Right. Unless the Force wanted us to start working together,” Ezra pointed out.

Sabine gave him the kind of weird look that reminded him that she didn’t know he was a Jedi. “The Force? Sure. Or we just have common goals.”

“Maybe,” Ezra said with a shrug.

“Or,” Kasmir said, “the universe wanted those two to be together.” He gestured at Kanan and Hera, both of whom were most definitely within earshot.

Kanan shot him a mortified look. “Kasmir. Will you please shut up? You know how I feel about--”

“Blah blah blah, you’re too busy, blah blah blah, rules,” Kasmir said, rolling his eyes. “For someone who gets in so many fights, you sure are a stickler for this stuff.”

“At least I win most of my fights,” Kanan pointed out, shooting Zeb a very slight grin. 

“Hey, I won that fight,” Zeb grumbled.

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“This could be a very bad idea,” Hera sighed, but her face didn’t seem to agree with her words. In fact, if Ezra was to guess, she seemed satisfied. Happy. Like she was where she was meant to be.

And Ezra had a feeling that it wouldn’t be long before they all felt that way.