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I: Presence (Spark of Rebellion)
A spark tickles at the edge of his perception. An insistent tingling that will not go away. Gradually, it becomes a buzz, then a hum; persistent and heavy in a way he hasn’t felt in years.
In fact, he has never felt a Force-call this strong.
It unsettles Kanan in a way he isn’t sure he likes.
There’s a sudden spike, a ringing in his ears that has him whipping around in the middle of the street to face it, hand straying towards his blaster.
It comes from the roof of a nearby building.
Kanan only senses it for a matter of moments before, abruptly as it had flamed into existence, it dampens, to the point he barely perceives it.
The sudden dwindling disconcerts him far more that the initial burst of awareness, but Kanan shakes his head, unsure what to do with it, and turns away, relegating the sensation to the rusted heap at the back of his mind where he shoves most things like this—things he has no desire to examine closely but cannot seem to shake.
The op must take precedence, after all.
IOIOIOIOIOI
He should have known it wouldn’t be that simple. It never is. Especially when the Force is involved.
Hmm. The Force, works in mysterious ways, it does. Thought you learned that long ago, young Padawan.
Sith. And now he is hearing things. Kanan scowls after the boy as he double-times it away from the older man’s cabin, brows knit fiercely together in concentration and well-aware of the object the youth thinks he has smuggled out undetected.
Hera first suggests it after Kanan relays his observations of the loth-rat to her: “It’s the best way to prove he is Force-sensitive.” Because she knows the qualms he has about engaging as deeply with the Force as such a scan would require.
Kanan scoffs softly to himself. He hasn’t told Hera about the presence he sensed in the marketplace; the presence he could immediately tell belonged to the boy almost the moment the kid had dropped down from the roof to steal one of their (already-stolen) speeders from right beneath their noses.
You don’t hold off at least half a dozen Stormtroopers, as well as a Lasat and two smugglers, without some kind of assistance.
Kanan just had not anticipated the Force-related kind, and sort of wishes it weren’t. He’s not ready for this, for what, with a drop of his stomach, he thinks it means.
Kriff, he doesn’t even know the kid’s name.
…Ezra, the Force whispers, the boy’s name is Ezra.
Right. Ezra. Kanan resists the urge to bury his head in his hands and groan.
What is the Force thinking, dropping Ezra practically in his lap when he’d gone without interacting with it—truly interacting with it—for years?
Hmph. For you it is not the Force’s will to question.
Hera probably senses something amiss, because she lays her hand lightly on his shoulder and squeezes it, a tiny, warm smile on her lips that momentarily makes him forget his minor existential crisis, “Now we wait and see…”
…Until she brings it up again, of course.
Kanan inhales deeply through his nose and lets it go, “Yeah…I guess we will.”
IOIOIOIOIOI
They do. They see so much more than they bargained for. Especially Kanan.
He already admires the boy’s wit and tenacity and is more than a little impressed that—Force-sensitive or not—Ezra breaks himself out of an Imperial cell block.
But what impresses him the most is the kid’s heart.
Despite Ezra claiming that he “May as well go the whole way” when revealing the location of the Wookies, Kanan senses a genuine desire to help beneath the brash exterior. Pretty damn compassionate for a Lothalian street rat who declares he doesn’t stick his neck out for strangers.
Kanan certainly didn’t when he lived on the streets, despite having internalized the knowledge of another’s worth practically since the cradle.
So, when they arrive on Kessel, and their rescue op goes pear-shaped, no one is more surprised than Kanan himself when the first defense he turns to, instead of his blaster, is his lightsaber.
He isn’t sure what is most responsible for the shift: the fact that he has had more contact with the Force than he has in years, the Wookies, who are too many to cover properly with his blaster…or Ezra himself, who—on this last leg of the op—is his ever-present shadow and, even before it, had pricked and prodded at all the wrong (and, consequently, right) memories.
The Force sings as he connects with it, providing immediate feedback about the next blaster bolt’s trajectory. His lightsaber blade hums, deflecting any shots he can get to with the split-second’s early warning the Force gives him.
The hilt of his weapon is an unexpected comfort in his hand. His movements themselves are, perhaps inevitably, more than a little rusty. Despite that, awe emanates from who he thinks is Ezra behind the crates he is defending.
It makes him entirely too self-conscious: Why? I am only a Padawan…and a half-trained one, at that.
It is the first time he has thought of himself as Jedi since Kaller, and the realization startles him enough that his concentration momentarily wanes.
A bolt slips through his defense and impacts one of the Wookies. The Force briefly flares. Without really thinking about it, he shouts over his shoulder to Zeb and Sabine, “Time to go…!” and senses them quickly begin to herd the Wookies towards the crate.
Ezra’s…Ezra’s still watching him, but before he has time to direct any kind of order or focus towards the kid, the troopers double the amount of blaster bolts they send at him, indicating the Wookies are on the move.
His focus narrows down to pinpoint precision as he gives himself over to the Force’s direction, his only mission now ensuring the Wookies and his crew have cover.
He is not aware Ezra is missing until Zeb shouts to him over the sizzle of blaster fire, “Kanan, I think you inspired the kid into doing…well, something like you would do!”
Internally, Kanan blanches. He isn’t sure whether it is the Force, or simply intuition—perhaps it is a little bit of both, as Depa had taught him to recognize—but he realizes immediately what the Lasat means.
Vaguely, he recalls catching a glimpse of the frightened Wookie kit running off at the beginning of their assault but had lost sight of the child after that. It’s not farfetched to conclude that a Stormtrooper has pursued the kit.
The Force bleats at him, telling Kanan that Ezra had done the same, gone after the endangered kit by himself.
Not so different from what you might have done, my young Padawan.
Kanan squeezes his eyes shut against the memory of his Master’s voice and rapidly formulates a plan as they pack themselves into the crate. Hopefully, it will allow the boy and the kit to return to them intact.
IOIOIOIOIOI
Ezra calls the agent pursuing them Agent Kallus. Unfortunately, the man is exactly the type of Imperial Kanan does not like to entangle with—ruthless, but perceptive, and hellbent on defeating any rebels he might encounter.
He’s pursued Ezra and the kit, and Kanan feels a spike of fear and concern that isn’t simply born from obligation. Whether Ezra is Force-sensitive or not, Kanan can’t let the Imperials wipe out such a bright spark. Moreover, he can’t let Ezra think that any good deed will cost too much. That it isn’t worth doing something to help because the galaxy will smite whoever tries it.
He’s where I was when I lost my Master, and I can’t let him lose his way.
“It’s over for you, Jedi,” Kallus’s sneer startles Kanan out of his thoughts, and he balances himself, lightsaber in hand, as Hera prepares to ascend. “A Master and an apprentice…such a rare find these days.”
Kanan’s stomach drops, and it is not because Hera has increased power to the thrusters.
Kriff …! We don’t even know for sure if he is Force-sensitive, and the Imps are already--!
“I don’t know where you get your delusions, Bucket-Head,” Ezra’s growl makes Kanan squeeze his eyes shut at the boy’s sheer bravery (and what it implies about the life the kid has been forced to lead), “I work alone.”
Kanan takes a deep breath and stands, immediately stating with little thought, “Not this time.”
The Force sings as they hover at Ezra’s eye-height. Kallus shoots. Kanan ducks two bolts and deflects one.
It hits its target and Kallus goes tumbling over the rail. There isn’t time to ensure he stays there.
“Jump, kid!” Kanan shouts, and Ezra instantly follows his directive, Wookie kit in tow.
Kanan grabs him as he lands, and Hera shoots off into the clouds.
“Th-thanks,” the kid manages to stammer, clutching at Kanan’s arms a moment as the older man helps him steady himself on the Ghost’s bulkhead.
“Anytime, kid,” Kanan responds with a smirk…and is surprised by how much he means it.
IOIOIOIOIOI
Ezra is quiet as they re-enter the Ghost, all his bravado cooled for the moment as he shyly rubs the back of his neck, unable to meet Kanan’s eyes.
The older man feels the bundle of contradictory emotions the boy is dealing with: disbelief, gratitude, relief, pride…and quietly withdraws from his connection to the Force, surprised by his reluctance to do so.
He ends up maintaining a low level of Force-awareness as they make their way to the cargo bay, and Ezra’s emotions buzz quietly against his mental shields, just out of perception.
He’s not been this connected to another Force-sensitive in years, not since his own Master, and does not wish to be rid of it so soon.
Ezra’s feelings spike as they enter the cargo bay, and Kanan loosens his shields a bit to sense them: the pride is still there; the relief, too. Elation mixes in, and temporarily banishes the disbelief.
As the kit notices his father and crows happily, rushing over to the ladder and sliding down it, a stab of what Kanan can only describe as sorrow and longing barrels at him with all the subtlety of a freight carrier. But it quickly mellows into sheer joy, which blocks out all other sensations coming at him from Ezra’s presence in the Force.
He releases a quiet breath and reaches out, gently gripping the boy’s shoulder with his hand, and silently squeezes it.
Ezra starts, glancing up at him.
Kanan loosens his shields a bit more, allowing a warm tendril of pride to travel through the Force and momentarily curl around Ezra, who blinks at him, disbelief and pleasure swiftly following the joy.
Kanan withdraws, this time completely, closing off their connection and moving to join Hera where she stands with the Wookies. Eventually, Ezra seems to shake himself and comes down to join them. He is immediately accosted by the kit’s grateful father and laughs softly. It’s a sound Kanan would not mind hearing again.
Yet, he is careful of the kid’s privacy now, releasing his awareness of the Force at last. He allows it to maintain its presence around them, not welcoming it, exactly, but reluctant to sever his connection to the same degree he had prior to this day.
Kanan knows he will owe Ezra for this and is surprisingly okay with that knowledge.
IOIOIOIOIOI
Knowledge and action, however, are two different things, and this final step is as much up to Ezra as it is to Kanan.
Ezra seems willing at first, in that Kanan senses his palpable reluctance to leave them, even without connecting deeply to the Force. It is written all over his face and in the slump of his posture after they finish bidding good-bye to the Wookies:
“So…” and Kanan frowns slightly at the loneliness that creeps into the boy’s signature, “I guess you drop me off next?”
Even Zeb seems affected, as his own shoulders also carry a bit of slump when he seals the door after the Wookies, “Uh…yeah.” He clears his throat and turns to Ezra, injecting a forced cheerfulness into his voice that Kanan can see right through, but Ezra and even Sabine can’t, “Finally, right?”
Ezra looks away, hugging an arm to his side, “…Right,” muttered as he slips off.
Kanan and Sabine exchange a weighted glance, the Mandalorian gently elbowing Zeb in reprimand, who scowls faintly at her and rubs the spot, but is gracious enough to concede. The two follow Ezra out of the airlock, but Kanan pauses, releasing a troubled breath.
Ezra is only fourteen, younger than Sabine’s seventeen by three standard years, and he looks every bit of it, leaning against the ladder in the entrance of the cargo bay, arms folded tightly across his chest and curled in on himself.
I don’t have any parents.
Ezra’s pained statement to Hera after they’d rescued him echoes in Kanan’s memory now, as he slowly walks up the ramp to join him.
If we leave him now, after all the Empire has learned of him…Kanan, who knows what will happen!
Hera is all for having Ezra aboard and has been since she first learned of his situation. He knows Sabine is of a similar mindset, and that Zeb—for all he might complain—is slowly coming around to that point of view, as well. Chopper is Chopper, and the droid will respond however he chooses, but Kanan…Kanan is not so certain. Not necessarily because of anything the boy has done during his brief time with them, but because the thought of training another—when he is barely half-trained himself—terrifies him.
But as the Ghost abruptly lurches, and Fulcrum’s shuttle undocks, Ezra not-quite-accidentally collides with him, and Kanan realizes the Force may not give him a choice in the matter.
IOIOIOIOIOI
Kanan knows Ezra has stolen his lightsaber long before they land on Lothal and tells Hera so. They agree to let the kid hold on to it until such a time as Kanan can properly talk to him about it. That conversation becomes a little more urgent once they see him off:
“I believe you have something that belongs to me,” two somethings, really; Kanan’s voice is gruff when Ezra joins he and Hera at the bottom of the landing ramp. He does not mind so much Ezra keeping the holocron, but the lightsaber that Kanan originally built, with advice from his Master, and then modified as a young man trying to blend in…that is a little more precious.
It would not have been a few days ago, and Kanan is keenly aware of that fact.
He finds it interesting that Ezra returns the holocron almost immediately, but then races off before Kanan can properly engage him in conversation about the lightsaber, “Good luck saving the galaxy.”
The boy’s response is completely sincere, but Kanan finds it much more preoccupying that the holocron is open in his palm.
Hera notices, too, and states as such, a smile in her voice as they watch the kid run off, “He opened it. He passed the test.”
Kanan feels a lump in his throat that has absolutely nothing to do with his missing weapon. He clears it, “Yeah…I guess he has.”
Hera smiles knowingly, laying a hand on his shoulder, “Then you know what you need to do.”
Yeah, he does.
IOIOIOIOIOI
Ezra isn’t sure how to feel when he opens his door and steps into his empty bunker. Compared to the Ghost, it suddenly feels so much dustier and more barren than he ever remembers it being.
(Well, since he found it two years ago, but he has actively not thought about that aspect for so long he’s forgotten anything different.)
He grips Kanan’s lightsaber tightly, seeking the comfort the man had momentarily offered him a day ago and barely even feels an echo of it. In fact, it is rapidly swallowed up by guilt, a feeling all-too familiar to Ezra, but not one he expects to feel so strongly regarding Kanan.
Then the strange connection he has to the man abruptly pulses, and Ezra stiffens, caught off-guard. He does eventually blow out a breath, not quite relaxing, but no longer maintains his guard quite so high, as the smuggler remains standing in the doorway.
“…What’s the Force?” he finally dares to ask, recalling the hologram he’d listened to in the Imperial cell, which had given him, against all odds, a reason to hope again.
As he had known it would, Kanan’s voice answers him, “The Force is everywhere. It surrounds us, and penetrates us, and binds the galaxy together…and it’s strong with you, Ezra. Otherwise, you never would have been able to open the holocron.”
Ezra does not mean to react so strongly, he truly doesn’t, but hard lessons learned on the streets of Capital City and the utter foreignness of this connection he has with Kanan keeps him on edge the entire time the man speaks with him. He turns to face him, eyes narrowed.
“So,” demanded tersely, “what do you want?”
The Jedi surprises him, as he has ever since Ezra met the man. A hand on his hip, Kanan responds gruffly, “To offer you a choice. You can keep that lightsaber you stole, let it become just another dusty souvenir. Or you can give it back, and come with us…come with me, and learn the ways of the Force. You can learn what it truly means to be a Jedi.”
Ezra’s hostility subsides, and he’s interested despite himself, despite the reflex insisting this is too good to be true (because to be brutally honest, he’s been interested ever since they came back for him on the Destroyer), “I thought the Empire wiped out all of the Jedi.”
There’s a question in his tone, and Kanan answers it, softening himself as he responds, “Not all of us.”
Ezra sighs and stares down at the lightsaber he holds in his hands, running a thumb over its dinged casing.
He knows it will be dangerous. He learned that lesson with shocking clarity when his parents were taken away. If he agrees to undergo Jedi training, that will be even truer, considering the bounties that have been issued for the capture of any remaining Jedi.
But he also knows he’s undergone a fundamental change since encountering Kanan and the Ghost crew. He can’t stand by and keep his head in the sand any longer, and if he can do something, be any kind of help…
Most of all, he wants to belong somewhere again. To have someplace and someone to come back to at the end of the day that is not just an abandoned communications tower at the edge of a brutally suppressed city.
Kanan does not understand how valuable an offer that is to Ezra, and the simple return of a lightsaber seems miniscule in comparison.
Ezra’s already half-decided when he raises his head and glances up…only to find that Kanan has vanished from the doorway, no trace to mark his passing.
It takes Ezra aback a moment, because had Kanan even really been there? But then he wraps his hands around the hilt of the Jedi’s weapon and sets his jaw.
Only one way to find out.
IOIOIOIOIOI
It’s a foregone conclusion, in the end.
Ezra returns Kanan’s lightsaber and, despite his trepidation about what is to come, Kanan reaches out to touch him, squeezing the boy’s shoulder at the same time he sends a tendril of reassurance through the Force to wrap around him.
Ezra leans into the touch, both physically and mentally, carefully storing this long-absent sense of connection among his most cherished memories.
There is no telling what the future holds, but the Force…the Force is content for now and, as Master Kenobi had stated, hope is on the horizon.
End (I).