Chapter Text
Mud caked their boots. Their packs weighed them down as they trudged through the forest. The Wookies leading the group assured them that they weren't too far now... for the sixth time since they left the Ghost. Zeb and Ezra both groaned. They looked like they wanted to lay down and die in the dirt like children.
"They say that the Tree of Life is twenty more clicks ahead!" Sabine translated for everyone.
Kanan frowned. He understood enough Shriiiwook to know better. "Sabine..."
"Fine... three." The boys nearly collapsed then and there from the force of their sighs.
The crew climbed up the steepest mount of roots yet. Sure, they could have taken the easy route through a nearby Imperial facility that had been long abandoned, but when had they ever done anything the easy way? Scaling skyscraper-sized trees was the much safer plan.
Until Ezra tripped. He rolled down the other side before anyone could right him. Head over butt like the galaxy's lumpiest bowling ball.The kid landed in a miserable little pile at the bottom of the tree. The crew scrambled down after him, doing their best not to follow his in footing. A Wookie checked that he was, indeed, still alive, so Kanan could collect him.
"How'd the ground taste?" Zeb poked Ezra sharply in the forehead. Restricted to his spot over Kanan's shoulder, Ezra couldn't do much to retaliate.
"Like dirt," he glared. "And worms."
One of the Wookies chortled. Sabine translated with slightly less amusement, "He says that he hopes you're joking, since most of the worms here are poisonous."
"WHAT?"
"You'll be fine," Hera pat him on the head. "We'll have them check you when we get there."
Soon enough, three clicks to be exact, the Wookies pushed past some thicker foliage and let the crew see their destination. The home of the Wookies, the Tree of Life, was more than grand. It didn't just touch the sky-- it blanketed the blue canopy. Its webs of branches embraced the sky with all the warmth and fondness of old friends newly reunited. The way the roots pushed aside the earth, as if they had been there first, and the way the trunk so surely rose above it all, with more leaves in its head than there were stars, it didn't scream eternity. It breathed that it was forever. It didn't need to scream when it had time. All the time in the galaxy. A concept it would patiently try again to explain. Though it knew no other creature could never understand, when they lived for only a moment. But maybe someday. And so it would try again, and it would only love its children that much more.
Zeb summerized the crew's awe beautifully. "That's gotta be the biggest kriffing tree I've ever seen."
"I can't see!" Ezra cried. He wriggled in Kanan's arms until he was set down. When he was turned the right way, all he could muster was a "Woah."
The Wookies guided the Spectres up a path of branches, bouncy mushroom things, and vines to the actual village. The clan of Wookies that had offered help had made an impressive home with the naturally thick branches and leaves. Without doing any damage to the tree itself, they had installed platforms. Huts. Tents. An eating area. A gathering area. And, where the Spectres were headed, the chief's meeting room. The Specters were led and left there. It was promised to be a short wait. Hera and Kanan were pleased with that, since the only thing that could offer an ounce of entertainment to their hyperactive rebels was a hyper-detailed map carved into a table.
Without guards eyeing them like they were used to, the crew of the Ghost had no indication that the Wookie chief would be so swift. They had not been standing for longer than a minute when the frond doorway swished open again.
A large, stocky Wookie with matted black and white fur wore a weave of ivy on his head. He was half a head shorter than Zeb, yet he still managed to tower over the room. When he growled, the Spectres could feel his authority rattle in their ears.
Sabine lept forward, eager to show off her linguistic skills. "May I introduce... Chief Tarful of the Wookies! When he heard that we were fighting back against the Empire, he knew that he had to do all he could to help us. And when he heard that we had three Jedi, he realized it was his humble duty to reunite what's left of your people." Sabine made sure to hold eye contact with Kanan for an extra second. A silent message to be nice and open-minded and sickeningly optimistic.
"Thanks. I guess. For taking on such a... humble duty," was all Kanan could say.
"Thank you, Chief. Your Wookies are too kind," Hera interjected.
"We believe that kindness, like all things, is a cycle," Chief Tarful rumbled. Sabine's translation lacked the earnesty, but they could still see it clear in his eyes. "The more compassion we give to the galaxy, the more compassion will find its way back to us. And with that, we can give more back."
"Wow. What a nice sentiment. Some of us should really try that out." Ezra, and the other Spectres, stared holes into Kanan.
Kanan crossed his arms. He was studying the pattern in the bark. Hm. Yes. That was bark, alright. Chief Tarful looked him up and down.
"He's asking if you're one of the Jedi," Sabine hummed.
"I guess I'm close enough," Kanan deadpanned. "Closer than this 'mysterious Force-user,' anyway." The other Spectres groaned at once.
"Sorry, your chief...ness," Ezra held up his hands. "He's not convinced that there are any more Jedi out there."
"Ahsoka surviving is understandable." Kanan told a rather facinating knot in the wall. "I survived by chance. And you--" Kanan finally turned to Ezra-- "were too busy being born to know what was happening."
Chief Tarful snorted. Or maybe he was coughing. Hard to tell. Sabine didn't offer any answer. "He promises that he's seen this Jedi in action. This guy nearly tore this tree apart fighting Inquisitors."
"All the more reason we should find them," Hera insisted. Kanan did snort. Hera, ever sensible, ignored him. "Do you know where they are now?"
The Wookie chief deflated ever so slightly. "He's afraid not... They only interacted once, after the Jedi helped him bring down that Imperial complex we avoided. Hm..." Sabine thought on Tarful's next words. It gave them a long silence. Really, really clearly a waste of time to Kanan. "Okay... he has an idea of where he went. Oh, great. Either he went to Dathomir, or some random, uncharted planet."
"Real helpful," Zeb mumbled.
"Hey, hey!" Ezra tried. "That's still something! And this Jedi took out a whole complex full of stormtroopers? That could come in handy! What did you say his name was?"
Chief Tarful answered. Suddenly, Kanan didn't seem so disinterested anymore. His eyes-- his whole body-- snapped to the Wookie. Whatever the answer had been, Kanan had understood it. More than understood. Recognized. But, Kanan tried to reason, his grasp of languages had never been as good as Sabine's. Names were naturally simple though. Just a sound or two. He had always done well enough to understand them. So why now of all times was he failing to translate?
He must have failed somehow, somewhere. He must have missed an important syllable. A key beat. Something. Because the chief's answer wasn't just outlandish. It was IMPOSSIBLE. In no galaxy--
Kanan shook his head. In no GALAXY could the chief have met--
Because Kanan would have first! And just because KANAN survived doesn't mean that anyone-- that he-- could have. Kanan would know. He would FEEL it. But he didn't. For years-- EVERY day, for years-- Kanan hadn't felt anything. Even now, with Ezra and Ahsoka, it was still just sparks in a vaccum. Almost invisible fragments of light in what should have been a supernova.
It wasn't a supernova anymore. It wasn't even a fading star.
There was nothing.
And where, in one of the deepest pits in Kanan's soul, there should have been something-- a tether, a spark, an assuring warmth...
There was just more emptiness.
So Kanan didn't feel bad when he snapped at the Wookie chief.
He didn't feel much of anything after such a slap in the face with how alone he and Ezra were.
"You're wrong."
The other Spectres looked at him like he had sprouted claws and were threatening the chief with them. The chief, however, didn't flinch back when the Jedi surged forward.
"Now I know they're a fake. He's dead."
Tarful did breathe another word, but Kanan refused to hear it.
"No, he's DEAD. Whoever you saw-- whoever you THOUGHT you saw-- that wasn't a Jedi. Anyone can pick up a lightsaber. No, NO!"
Kanan roared in the chief's face before anyone could grab him. "That's not possible! Because--" Tarful argued back. Whatever he was saying hit Kanan hard enough that he staggered back into Hera's arms.
"Because he's GONE!" Chief Tarful finally closed his mouth. Kanan ripped himself away from Hera, stormed up to Tarful, and put his face close enough that he might feel a sliver of Kanan's fury.
"Cal Kestis died with his master!"
Clearly Tarful didn't believe him. That didn't matter. This wasn't for him, anyway. Kanan didn't lean in when his voice dropped to a snarl, forcing Tarful to.
"He's been dead for sixteen years. Whoever was here was lying to you."
He stared into the Wookie's eyes until someone in that room believed him.
No one did.
And he could feel it.
He didn't want to feel their horror. He didn't want to bear their frightened gazes any longer. He was not a vicious predator.
Before anyone could say anything, he left. Kanan narrowly avoided shoving Chief Tarful to the side as he stalked out of the room, with only the swishing of the frond doorway to be heard after he was gone.
***
Without fire the Spectres had no idea how the Wookies planned to cook them the welcoming dinner they insisted on. One of them brought out a bag of glowing beetles and crushed them over a carfully crafted pile of kindling. Zeb shivered at the sight, but the heat that the goo produced was more than enough to boil a stew. Five of the Spectres shared one of the heartiest, home-iest meals they'd ever had. They almost wanted to debate whether it was better than Kanan's cooking.
Without him, though, the feast didn't feel entirely right. He was barely in sight on the ledge he stood on-- the only ledge with a full view of the sky. Instead of admiring the glittering stars, he kept his eyes down. He couldn't bear to face all that possibility. A huff upset a nearby insect. His eyes followed it as it startled and began to buzz around. Circling his head, swirling in the air, and then finally swooping down the skyscraper of a tree. Again, Kanan stared into the forest, trying to ignore the expanse that called for his attention.
"...if you even think about telling me to jump I'll put you back in your closet," Kanan thought to his unwanted little subconscious.
You haven't put me in that thing since we met Hera. Caleb smirked. Kanan would have smacked it off him if the kid was actually there and not just in his head.
"I mean it. If you have something to say, say it. Otherwise go away."
Caleb dangled his legs over the edge. Kicking them, he leaned back and studied the stars. I do have something to say. Look.
"No."
Why not? There's the Core Constellation. That means Coruscant is right over...
"Stop. I'm not looking."
No, it's over there... I think. You know who was way better at astrology?
"Don't."
Cal.
"What did I say?"
What are you going to do? Caleb finally turned away from the sky and gave his older counterpart the stupidest shit-eating grin he'd seen in a while. I'm just saying what we're thinking. Look. Look at all those stars! They all have a bunch of planets orbiting them. And moons orbiting them. He could be out there!
"He won't be. He's dead."
Ahsoka survived. Maybe--
"Ahsoka survived because she's Ahsoka."
Yeah, she's awesome!
"You were there!" Kanan finally snapped. "You felt it! You were there when it happened. You felt them all dissappear!"
Ahsoka dissapeared, too.
"We didn't have a connection with her! But Master Windu and Master Tapal and Sammo and Tau and all the others... THEY vanished. Because they're gone."
...and Cal...
Kanan didn't respond. He hoped, just once, that his past life would take a hint and stay silent. The trees waved lazily far below the Wookie village. There must have been thousands of them. And then hundreds of thousands of creatures prowling their roots. Who needed to see the stars when this one forest was teeming with enough life already?
Look at the moons.
Kanan did not look up. He glared at Caleb, expecting him to still be masking his fear under childish arrogance. Not only was he not pretending... the kid seemed almost saddened. It made too much sense. He held all of Kanan's bad experiences. He must be able to carry his sorrow, too.
Against his better judgment, Kanan pried his eyes from the trees and turned them upward. Three pearly orbs hung in the air. They shone brighter than the stars. He failed to see what they had to do with anything. Besides the obvious. Now he was looking at the midnight sky. He found the Core Constellation on instinct-- Caleb's instinct. Against the deep purple, the red stars that stood at the center of the galaxy would draw anyone's eye.
He could be out there... Caleb whispered. Kanan couldn't help but think the same thing.
The chatty teenager vanished as soon as they heard footsteps behind them. While Kanan figured who they belonged to, Caleb slunk away to the back of his mind again.
"You should eat something," Hera's gentle voice washed over him.
"I'm not hungry." He went back to peering at the other trees.
"We have a long hike back tomorrow." Hera stopped just behind his shoulder. "You should rest, at least. And apologize." Kanan sighed. He had been planning to, of course. Relations were important in a rebellion and blah blah blah.
"I'll do that in the morning," Kanan mumbled. Now Hera was surely making that face she did when she didn't like an answer but found no reason to argue. With furrowed brows and puckered lips. The kind he usually giggled over.
"As long as it gets done," she finally decided. There was a beat of silence. "And I don't just mean the chief."
He had to hold back an eyeroll. "I'll get started on a public apology, then. I'll be sure to shake hands with every Wookie in the village. And why stop there? I'll track down every Wookie on the planet to make sure they know how sorry I am--"
"I meant the others." Hera put a hand on his shoulder. Every time she did he always thought he wanted to shy away. And every time he could only lean into it. She didn't have to explain that he'd startled them with his outburst-- he figured that already.
"What's there to say? 'Sorry that this whole thing has me...' 'Sorry that I can't...'" He shut his mouth and looked away.
"Or you could... tell them?" Hera offered softly. "You don't have to give them the whole story, if you don't want to, but if we're going to look for him--"
"I don't want to look." Kanan stared her in the eyes. As if he was trying to project the ransacked pit in his soul into her mind so that she might understand.
Her mouth parted slightly. Her face softened, and his weak heart followed. "Why not?"
"We won't find anything."
"You don't know that for sure."
"Yes I do!" Kanan finally whipped around. "I've felt it in the Force since that day. He's gone." He tried to collect himself. He didn't want to scare them anymore. He just wanted to go home and forget about this pointless mission.
From the campfire, Kanan saw Ezra stand. The kid carried a steaming bowl over to the ledge. His steps were hesitant, but his eyes still burned with his usual spirit. A slight relief eased its way into of Kanan's conscience to know that his Padawan still trusted him.
"I brought food," Ezra stated. Hera gave Kanan a pointed look. As if Kanan would push him away. She knew, though, that he had considered it for a second. He sighed, thanked Ezra, then took the bowl.
As Kanan slowly drank, Ezra took the opportunity to pounce on the silence. "So... who's Cal?"
In his head, Caleb snorted. Kanan ignored that brat in favor of his other chatty kid. "No one." Neither Hera nor Ezra reacted. They gave him a moment, knowing that something in Kanan would force him to fill the silence with the truth. "Cal and I grew up together. We were friends."
"You and this mystery guy?" Zeb questioned. He and Sabine had followed behind Ezra at a not-so-casual distance.
"I don't think Kanan wants to talk to everyone right now." Hera crossed her arms, her signiture tell of impending doom.
"That's fair," Sabine started. "But shouldn't we all be on the same page before we go on a wild mynock chase?"
"We're not chasing anything!" Kanan insisted-- borderline pleaded. "There isn't anything to find!"
"I dunno. I have a feeling." Ezra looked past Kanan, up into the stars.
"Yeah. So do I." Kanan glared at him. "I have a pretty good feeling we'll be chasing ghosts!"
Sabine hummed. "I wonder what it will be like on this side of it."
Tired of kriffing arguing, Kanan groaned and threw his hands into the air, spilling the rest of the stew. The rest of the crew exchanged looks as he turned away. A shadow darted in and out of the trees. In the back of his mind, Caleb forgot all about their debate in favor of guessing what it was. Stupid. Useless. Stars! Kanan hadn't the faintest idea how that kid survived long enough to become him. But with him distracted Kanan could focus on escaping.
"Listen. I need you all to listen."
They leaned in, giving him space in their silence.
"Cal was probably the closest friend I ever had. I... I miss him. I won't pretend that I don't. But if I had let myself believe that anyone else survived, I probably wouldn't be standing here. I've already grieved for them all. I've moved on, and I'd prefer it if we didn't waste our time looking for him."
"You don't even want to try?" Ezra and the rest slumped. They oozed empathy he didn't need. Their eyes reflected the sorrow that had carved its home into him. They knew loss, too. He wasn't the only one who had everything ripped away.
"No."
***
Shadows feasted on the village now that the lights had been snuffed out. A strange silence danced with them. There was still sound-- the chitters of bugs and the cries of nocturnal animals-- but it rang hollow. As if the tree was drowsy itself, but stayed awake to keep watch over its residents. Only the stars stayed energized enough to cut life into the world.
Tents had been erected for the Wookies' visitors. One for each Spectre. Six tents. There would have been only five if Kanan hadn't insisted on being alone.
In the first tent, Hera slowly opened her eyes. She was expecting the sun to greet her. Not darkness. Her first instinct was to stop and listen. If someone was sneaking around, that would explain why she had been forced awake. And if that someone had malicious intent then the rest of her crew needed be ready to pounce at the first sign of danger.
She wasn't sure if she heard anything at first. Chirps and howls created an ambience that amplified every sound that didn't fit into the choir. Like a wrong note, a mumble jutted out of the nighttime song.The faint whimpers paired themselves with shifts of fabric. It sounded nearby. Not close enough to be outside her tent, but definitely from one of the others.
Knowing that one of her Spectres was crying in their sleep was more than enough to jolt Hera fully awake.
Crawling out of her tent, she kept an earcone out. There. From the next tent down. Another muffled sob. She hurried over, silently as only a rebel could, to peek inside. A blanket woven from vines was tossed aside and forgotten. He took breaths in gasps, as if afraid the next could be his last. He writhed back and forth and twitched and begged for someone who wasn't there.
Hera ducked, sliding to his side as fast as she could. She didn't want to wake him. Truly. But she had dealt with enough of his nightmares to reject the option. Her poor Jedi. Usually gentle touches and soft assurances were enough to soothe him. Now, as she rubbed his arm, she knew it wouldn't be enough tonight. His face was contorted in agony that echoed in her heart. It must have been worse for him, to be the one feeling it, than it was to witness.
Her poor Jedi...
There weren't any other options. Hera started to shake him. His body twitched so harshly that she thought he was freed until he whimpered and curled into a ball.
"Kanan?" She hissed. "It's just a dream. You're okay. Come back to--"
Her Jedi's eyes shot open. The claws of the horrors released him in an instant and he was sitting up and shouting and gasping like he had been running.
"Shh! Shh. You're okay. Take a breath. Like that. Shh, shh, shh..."
"She's... they're... he..." Tears raked down his face. "Gone... they're all...!"
"It was just a dream. You're safe. Look at me. Look at me, Love."
His eyes were unfocused. Either he was seeing someone in her place, or he was still in his head. She cupped his cheek in a slender hand. He nearly flinched away, but as the adrenaline faded his mind and eyes cleared, he leaned in with a shaky sigh. She carefully gathered him into her arms. Just in time for him for weak sobs to tear through him.
As her poor, poor Jedi keened into her chest, Hera stroked his head. One mention of his past life was enough to trigger this. One name. Such a dear one at that. Having a shard of his shattered history unearthed must have shaken him more than she thought.
Oh, her poor Jedi.
She wanted to fix it for him. If not his heart, then something. He had lied, she realized, when he said he had moved on. She knew some of what Cal was to him. A loss like that was permanent. Forever. Not many people could find closure after everything that had been taken from him. She knew this. Every fiber in her knew it. But Hera knew just as strongly that that closure had to be sought to be found.
Arms tightened around her as his shudders died down. Her heart sunk to see him so devastated. She held him close, hoping that he would forgive her.