Chapter Text
It was concerning whenever one of Kanan’s agents set off their emergency beacon. They were all incredibly competent, and it was rare that one of them was actually caught. It had only happened a few times in his memory.
So whenever one of the beacons were set off, it was a cause for worry. But even more so now. Because the person who’d set off their beacon was Hera.
“How did this happen?” Sabine said from next to him as Kanan stared at the datapad with the blinking dot indicating Hera’s location on it. Her voice was furious, but by now Kanan knew she wasn’t angry with him. She was terrified, terrified that they were about to lose Hera. And Kanan couldn’t blame her.
He called on the Force, seeking the calm he was supposed to feel while meditating. It didn’t help much. “The Empire probably grabbed her and Chopper in the middle of their supply run.” I knew I shouldn’t have let her go out alone , he thought, cursing the fact he hadn’t listened to the fear that had been knotting in his gut when Hera had said she was taking a supply run on her own.
“Then what’s the plan?” Zeb asked, his deep voice holding a bit of a growl.
“Judging by the beacon, Hera’s in a Star Destroyer above Lothal,” Kanan said, studying the datapad. “Which means the Phantom and Chopper should be there, too.”
“Should be a piece of cake to find them, then,” Kasmir pointed out, his tone intentionally light as he studied Kanan. Kanan wasn’t surprised that the Kalleran had figured it out before anyone else— it was typical Kasmir.
“It will be,” he agreed. “But I’m going in alone.”
There was an uproar of disagreement, and Kanan patiently waited through Zeb, Sabine, Ezra and Jyn’s protests about how he couldn’t go alone; how it was too dangerous, how they cared about Hera, too, and it would be best if he had backup, and they weren’t just going to sit here and wait for the worst to happen.
Finally, he cut through their shouts crisply. “If I go in alone, there’s less of a chance I’ll be caught. I can slip in dressed as a trooper, find Hera’s cell, and get her out before they even know I’m there.”
“You could at least bring one other person,” Ezra argued. “I could—”
“None of you are going to pass as stormtroopers as well as I can,” Kanan pointed out. “And yes, Ezra, I’m aware you still have your cadet uniform, but that’s not something they’ll have seen often. It might catch their attention, and that’s exactly what we don’t want.” He paused for a moment, letting the words sink in, then continued, “As a Jedi on my own, I have the best chance. So no more arguing. Understood?”
None of them looked happy about it, but finally Zeb nodded reluctantly. “Fine. I still don’t like this— things could go way too wrong.”
He didn’t have to say what he was obviously thinking, what everyone was thinking. They could lose both of their leaders in one stroke if things went sideways. One misstep, and Kanan could be locked up with Hera.
Luckily, he didn’t plan to mess up. “Don’t worry— I’ve still got a few tricks up my sleeve you don’t know about,” he assured Zeb. Turning to the doorway where Kasmir was lounging against the frame, wearing a scowl to make it clear how much he disliked this plan, he said, “Kasmir, you’re in charge while I’m gone.”
“Can I order you to not be an idiot while I’m in charge?” Kasmir asked. “Or to bring with someone else?”
“You cannot,” Kanan said. He looked at Jyn. “You’re in charge of Kasmir while I’m gone.”
That brought a brief, amused smile to the girl’s face, but it disappeared seconds later. “Be careful. And bring her back safely.”
“I will,” Kanan promised. He knew that Hera and Jyn had gotten off to something of a rocky start, but recent events had brought them closer together. This just added to his determination to bring their captain.
“Not to be the one who actually brings planning into this,” Sabine said, her arms folded, “but how exactly do you plan on getting onto that Star Destroyer?”
“I have a plan,” Kanan said, and quickly outlined his idea. The rest of the crew listened quietly, most of them wearing expressions of great skepticism.
“Fine,” Kasmir said with a sigh. “We’ll do your dumb plan. Just don’t get killed, kid. Captain H would never forgive us.”
“Don’t call me kid, and I’m not gonna get killed,” Kanan said steadily. “Okay— Kasmir, fire up the Kasmiri . You’ll drop me off at the edge of the Imperial complex. Everyone else stays here. Continue business as usual. If Fulcrum calls— let Okadiah talk to her, he’s the best at keeping stuff from them.”
“Because I know how to make small talk,” Okadiah pointed out as he stepped into the room, carrying a duffel bag. Handing it to Kanan, he said, “I assume you’ll want your trooper armor.”
“You assumed correctly,” Kanan said, slinging it over his shoulder. “Thanks, Oke. Take care of these idiots until I get back, okay?”
Nodding, Okadiah caught his gaze and said gravely, “Come home safe, son. Bring her back with you.”
“I will,” Kanan promised, clapping the older man on the shoulder.
He and Kasmir headed out of the Ghost , which was settled in the middle of the prairies of Lothal, a long way away from any town. The walk to where the Kasmiri was landed wasn’t long, but it was long enough for Kasmir to leave a pointed silence that made it clear just how much he didn’t like this plan.
As they boarded the ship, Kanan broke the silence. “I know you don’t like this, but it’s a solid plan,” he told the Kalleran as they headed into the cockpit. “And it’s the best chance we have to get her back.”
Kasmir let out a sigh. “I know, I know. I just don’t like this. I’m surprised Ezra didn’t argue more— he hates it when you take solo missions.”
“Hence why I’ve started doing less solo missions,” Kanan pointed out. “I see what you’re saying— but this isn’t just a mission. This is Hera.”
“Point taken,” Kasmir said with a huff. “Alright, go put on your armor. We’ve got an idiotic plan to enact.”
“You think all my plans are idiotic,” Kanan protested as the Kalleran started up the ship.
“Well, I wonder why that is?”
Kanan rolled his eyes and ducked out of the cockpit as the Kasmiri lifted off the ground and zipped forward. By the time they’d almost reached the Imperial complex, he was clad in the stormtrooper armor he kept around for just such occasions as this one. He kept his lightsaber with him, but reluctantly left his personal blaster on board the ship, carrying a standard issue one instead. He had to blend in as much as possible, after all.
The Kasmiri came to a stop a few hundred yards out from the complex, and lowered the ramp. As Kanan headed out, he heard Kasmir shout, “Do good, and come back alive, kid!”
“Don’t call me kid, you old idiot,” Kanan shouted back, and the Kalleran laughed unrepentantly as Kanna vaulted off of the ship and slipped away.
It was relatively easy to slip into the complex— the security wasn’t amazing in the first place. Kanan knew that a few members of the crew had tricked them on a number of occasions.
But it also helped that he was using a trick Vos had taught him last time they’d met up. The former Jedi had told him there was a way to hide one’s Force signature from other Force sensitives, and helped him figure out how to use it. Kanan and Ezra had promptly taken it one step further, and used it to discourage anyone from noticing them.
Ezra was a natural at it, unsurprisingly, but Kanan was good enough that he managed to make his way into the complex and on board a troop transport heading up to the Star Destroyer. As they moved up through the atmosphere, he settled in next to the other troopers and tried to meditate, reaching for some form of calm.
It didn’t come easy, though. Because Hera was in danger, and while Kanan thought he did a decent job of not going all overprotective on her, there were days where it was really kriffing hard. Days where he wanted to sweep her into his arms and shield her from the rest of the galaxy, to just hold her close and tell her everything would be alright.
It was stupid and unrealistic, and the one thing he longed for more than anything else in the galaxy.
Taking a quick, steadying breath, Kanan shoved the thought aside. The idea was foolish. He already knew that anything that he might have hoped for between him and Hera was futile. She’d made that clear, and he respected that.
That didn’t mean he wasn’t gonna come for her, though. He always would.
The troop transport docked, and Kanan filed off with the other troopers, keeping his head lowered, but staying alert. His view was heavily restricted by the helmet, so he extended himself through the Force very slightly, keeping a watch out for danger.
As they exited the ship, Kanan caught sight of a familiar shape— the Phantom , guarded by a few white-clad stormtroopers. At least I know I’m in the right place, he thought grimly.
It was incredibly easy to slip away from the troopers and head for the excursion vessel across the bay. When Kanan reached the door, two of the guards stepped forward, one lifting a hand. “Stop right there. What are you doing here?”
Waving a hand, Kanan pushed on the trooper’s mind as he said, “It’s okay that I’m here. You can let me inside.”
“It’s… okay that you’re here,” the trooper repeated in a dazed voice.
“We can let you inside,” his companion said, his voice equally unbalanced.
“Thank you, sir,” Kanan said briskly, stepping past the two troopers and moving onto the Phantom.
He’d only taken two steps forward when a large round shape zipped out of hiding, beeping aggressively. Yanking off his helmet, Kanan hissed, “Chopper, stop! It’s me!”
The orange astromech screeched to a stop, one of his electro prods still ready. He beeped out a string of questions, punctuated by curses, and Kanan lifted an eyebrow. He would never know how Hera’s droid, of all droids, ended up with such foul language. “Relax— I’m here to get Hera out. The others aren’t here, I went in on my own. And yes, I’m aware it was reckless. I have a plan to get her out safely, but I need your help, okay?”
Chopper let out a grumble, but finally agreed. “Good,” Kanan said. “Here’s what I need you to do— go up onto the bridge and set off an emergency alarm. I don’t care what kind, just so long as it’ll get as many people off the ship and away from the holding cells as possible. Got it?”
Chopper beeped in confirmation, and Kanan let out a short sigh of relief. He and Chopper didn’t always get along, but it was nice to know they were united in wanting to help Hera. “Once you’re done up there, get back to the Phantom as fast as possible and wait for me and Hera. And don’t leave here until… Let's say five minutes after I leave. I’ll make sure you don’t have any guards to deal with.”
Without another word, he slipped out of the Phantom , replacing his helmet as he approached the guards again. It would be a simple matter to mind-trick them into going on break. But first, Kanan had a few questions.
Five minutes later, he was on his way to cell block C, keeping out of sight as sirens went off around him and troopers stampeded past him. Kanan wasn’t sure what kind of alert Chopper had set off, but it seemed to be effective. As the seconds slipped by, he was encountering fewer and fewer stormtroopers.
Finally, he arrived at the cell that the troopers had told him the new prisoner was being kept in. For a moment, Kanan hesitated outside, remembering what else they’d told him. “Had some kind of creepy visitor— dressed in all black, and he looked like death,” the trooper had recounted somberly. “He didn’t carry a blaster, but he looked twice as dangerous as any ISB agent I’ve ever met.”
The Grand Inquisitor. But Kanan hadn’t sensed a Dark side presence on the ship. Either he’s better at shielding than I am— which is pretty likely— or he’s gone. But what did he do to Hera?
Not the time to worry, Jarrus. Get in, get Hera out, he told himself. Reaching for the lock, he keyed it with the Force, and the door hissed open.
The cell was empty.
Oh, kriff. Panic flashing through him, Kanan stepped forward, moving into the cell. No, no, this can’t be—
A surge in the Force was the only warning he had before someone slammed into him, tackling him across the room. Kanan felt his back slam into the wall, and he twisted, trying to catch sight of his attacker.
He spotted green skin and familiar lekku markings, and felt a flash of relief. Thank the Force— “Hera! Hera, it’s just me.”
The Twi’lek pilot froze in the middle of pulling her fist back for another punch, her hand wavering, and something felt off. She was staring at him like she’d never seen him before in her life. Reaching up, Kanan pulled off his helmet. “Hey. It’s me, it’s Kanan.”
Hera stared at him, her gaze bewildered. “I— I don’t know you,” she whispered, stumbling backwards, and Kanan felt his heart stop. “How do you know my name?”
~ ~ ~
Warily, Hera watched the dark-haired human as he paced back and forth across the cell she’d been locked in. You can figure this out, she told herself, although all the colliding and confusing thoughts in her brain were not helping with that thought process. Who is this? Why does he know your name?
As she racked her brains, she studied him— tall, with dark hair tied back from his face and a small beard that some part of her knew was called a goatee. His eyes were an intense shade of blue-green, and rather captivating if Hera was being honest. Actually, while she was being honest, she had to admit that this man, whoever he was, was incredibly handsome. Not the time, she scolded herself as he pivoted to face her again.
“Okay, so you don’t remember anything?” he asked, a frown knitting his eyebrows. “Not Chopper or the Ghost or Sabine and Zeb— nothing? Not even Gorse?”
“I don’t know what any of that is,” Hera said, shrugging helplessly, and a flicker of pain flashed across the man’s face.
“How did this happen?” he muttered, rubbing a hand over his face and breathing out a curse. Inhaling deeply, he pressed his eyes closed for a long moment, not speaking. Then they flashed open again. “The Inquisitor.”
“What?” Hera asked, frowning in confusion.
“The Inquisitor was here. It could have been his fault, which means I can fix this.” The man took a step towards her, and Hera jerked back, nervousness flaring through her at his sudden movement. She wasn’t normally skittish— well. She didn’t think she was. But these were far from normal circumstances.
The man halted in his steps, confusion flickering through his gaze. Then his eyes widened slightly in comprehension, along with a hint of pain. “Sorry,” he said, holding up his hands. “I didn’t mean—” He paused, taking a deep breath. “Okay, let me explain. I’m a Jedi— does that mean anything to you?”
Hera started to shake her head, then paused, odd fragments of memory bumping through her mind. “You can float things,” she said slowly. “With your mind. Like… catwalks?”
His eyes widened. “Yeah— you remember that? Is there anything else?”
She tried to chase the memory, but it slipped away just as fast. “No— I’m sorry,” she said helplessly.
The man didn’t hide his disappointment well, but nodded. “It’s okay. Anyway, as a Jedi, I can sort of sense what’s going on in your mind. And an Inquisitor can do the same thing, but when they do it, it won’t be to help. It’ll be to hurt.”
“And you think this is why I can’t remember anything?” Hera asked.
Giving her a helpless shrug, the man said, “Maybe? There’s only one way to find out. I can check your mind— but I will have to touch you. Just the sides of your forehead. Is that okay? It’s not completely necessary, it just makes it a lot easier, but if you’re uncomfortable with that—”
“No, no, it’s fine,” Hera said quickly. “Go ahead.”
"You're sure?" the man checked, and Hera raised an exasperated eyebrow at him. A brief smile flashed across his face. “Point taken.”
Stepping forward, he moved to stand a few inches in front of her. His gaze met hers as he reached up and gently rested the tips of his fingers along her temples and her cheekbones, his thumbs touching her jawline. “This'll only take a minute,” he said quietly, and closed his eyes.
Hera, on the other hand, chose not to close her eyes. Instead she studied the man in front of her, taking in the angular lines of his face, his strong jawline and dark hair, his mouth pulling into a slight frown of concentration. Why don't I remember you? she thought. I should, but I don't. But there was something there. Not recognition, exactly. More like a feeling, something confident and true. Hera dug a little deeper and realized it was trust. I trust this man. But why? Who is he to me?
His eyes opened, and the man met her eyes again. His gaze held a swirling array of emotions— concern, curiosity, a little relief, and then something else. Something warm and strong, that sent a quick thrill through Hera. “Did you find your answers?” she asked, unable to take her eyes off of him.
“Not all the ones I wanted,” he said, his voice low. “But I figured out enough.” He stepped back, his thumb brushing her jaw as he pulled his hands away. A shiver went down Hera’s spine at the touch.
Crossing her arms, she said, “Okay, then, what do you have? And— what’s your name again?”
She saw him stiffen slightly at her words, his shoulders going rigid. But his voice was level as he said, “Kanan Jarrus. But— please, don’t call me Mr. Jarrus or anything like that. It might actually kill me.”
“Alright, then, Kanan,” Hera said, giving him a nod. “What did you find?”
His brows furrowed, a thoughtful frown crossing his face. “At first glance, it would look like your memories are all entirely gone. But if you look a little deeper— it’s hard to explain. Um… okay, so the Inquisitor went after your memories, to see if you knew anything that would help him. I taught you some shielding against Force probes when we found out there was an Inquisitor after us, so you probably used that to protect yourself. But when he wouldn’t let up, your brain went into fight or flight mode. And instead of just giving in, you just… shoved everything in a box and locked it up where no one could reach it. Including you.” Kanan let out a short laugh. “Gotta be honest— I didn’t know that someone could do that, let alone someone who isn’t Force sensitive. But it is something that I can fix.”
“Really?” Hera said, her eyes widening and relief flickering through her. She didn’t like the sense of being helpless this way, unable to remember a thing. “Well— how? And why didn’t you?”
“This… isn’t something we’ve actually talked about a lot,” Kanan admitted, and Hera wondered at his use of the word “we”. “But I can use the Force to heal people. That’s the whole reason Okadiah— one of our friends— didn’t die quite a few years ago. But I think I can use it to reverse what happened to you.” Holding up a hand to forestall her next question, he added, “But not yet.”
“Why?” Hera demanded, shooting him a scowl.
“Hey, don’t get me wrong, I’d love to,” Kanan said, holding up his hands as if in surrender. “But once I do it, everything is gonna flood out at once, and I’m more than a little concerned that you’ll pass out. And I have no idea when you’d wake up, and we’re on an Imperial Star Destroyer with a limited time window to get out of here—”
“Point taken,” Hera said with a sigh. “Then when should we do it?”
“As soon as we get back to the Phantom ,” Kanan said, grabbing his helmet from where he’d dropped it earlier. He headed for the door, but Hera didn’t move, uncertainty flooding through her.
“I— we’re leaving?” she said.
Kanan glanced back at her, his gaze softening. Stepping over to stand near her, he said gently,“I know you don’t remember me. And I know this has to be incredibly confusing for you. But I need you to trust me again. And if not me, trust your gut. You’re very rarely wrong.”
Hera hesitated for another minute, studying him. She still didn’t remember him, and he could be lying to her. This whole thing could be a scam, a con to trick her into going with a strange man on a strange ship.
But he’d said trust her gut, and her gut was telling her she could trust him. She wasn’t remotely worried about being betrayed by him, which was… so, so strange. But it was also right . Hera was more sure about that than anything else.
And she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t curious to figure out what exactly this handsome, kind man was to her.
“Okay,” she said, stepping forward to join him at the doorway. “Let’s go.”