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kanerallels · 2 months ago

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Better late than never: day four of @kaneraweek! Shoutout to @candiedstardust, who made this post that helped inspire the first portion of the fic!

Read on AO3!

Taglist: @accidental-spice @day-to-day-thots @opalknight @auroramagpie @heckin-music-dork @cassie-fanfics @ana-cantskywalker @lothalnyx (DM me or send an ask if you want to be added or removed from my taglist!)

1. Pre SWR

Zaluna Myder had been around for a long time, longer than she’d want to admit if she cared about such things. She’d seen a lot before she lost her eyesight, working for Transcept first for the Republic, then later for the Empire.

In the past few years since she left her job for retirement on a peaceful sunlit planet, she’d learned even more, about life and how people acted, even when you couldn’t see them. The few visitors she had were quite the education.

Foremost among them were the people who’d saved her life in the first place. Kanan Jarrus and Hera Syndulla were kind, caring people, despite how different they were—her determinated and focused, him devil-may-care and quippy. But they both shared an undeniable compassion.

And of course, there was the fact that they were completely head over heels in love with each other.

From the first moment they’d met, Kanan had flirted with Hera, which she met with polite deflection or wry sarcasm. Never unkind, Zaluna had noted, simply direct and uninterested.

But something had changed after their near death experience on the Forager, and Hera had taken him on as a crew member. And as the years had passed, and the two of them came back for the occasional visit, they’d changed even more. The way they talked, teasing and bantering, the warmth in their tones directed at each other. It was obvious, even to one without eyes.

“When are you going to do something about your feelings for that captain of yours?” she’d asked Kanan one day when they came to visit. He always insisted on cooking for them, claiming it was the least he could do.

Kanan was silent for a moment, just a moment too long. “Come on, Zal,” he said, tone easy in a way she didn’t quite believe. “She’s the captain, like you said. She wants things to stay the same, and I’m gonna respect that.”

Zaluna just let out a scoff, hoping that would be response enough. A little later, she slipped out of the kitchen, leaving Kanan to his work, and went to find Hera. The Twi’lek woman was hard at work repairing Zaluna’s dryer, which was far from the biggest issue in the galaxy, but the pair seemed to like to work when they came to visit. Zaluna wasn’t about to complain.

Instead, she asked, “When are you going to tell Kanan how you feel?”

There was a clang, and a muffled yelp of pain. A second later, Hera’s voice came clearer. “Hi, Zaluna.”

“Hello,” Zaluna said. “So?”

Hera let out a long sigh. “Zal, it’s not like that. He’s just a friend and co-worker.”

“Uh-huh.” Zaluna hoped her expression was sufficiently unconvinced.

It must have been, because Hera sighed again. “He wouldn’t believe me at this point, anyway.”

“Hmm,” Zaluna said skeptically. “So you’re giving up. Doesn’t sound like the Hera I know.”

Hera chose not to respond, and Zaluna headed back to the kitchen, satisfied with her meddling for the evening. They’d figure it out eventually, she was sure. They may have been acting it, but they weren’t fools.

Season 1

Kallus had thought he knew everything there was to know about the rebel cell he was hunting. He’d read and reread their files over and over again, and written a good deal of those files himself. The Mandalorian bounty hunter who’d been disgraced at the Imperial academy. The Loth-rat turned Jedi apprentice. The Lasat who’d somehow survived the carnage on Lasan (he pushed aside a twinge and told himself it was from indigestion). And of course their leader, the renegade Jedi.

There was also their pilot, who Kallus had known little to nothing about. Just that they were exceptionally talented.

And then. He’d met this pilot, while maneuvering the rebels into a trap with the help of Senator Gall Trayvis. As it turned out, it was a Twi’lek woman, who’d glared at him sharply enough to melt the durasteel of his armor, and Kallus was currently resetting his assumptions about who exactly the leader of the Spectres was.

And then there had been one other thing. Something that hadn’t been obvious to the naked eye until one realized it was there. Something that had Kallus hesitating as he wrote up his report on the incident.

The Twi’lek and the Jedi.

They were…something.

It wasn’t obvious, as he’d said. It simply in the way they moved, like they were constantly in each other’s orbit. Like they were always aware of the other and ready to move to help their…partner. Two people, one mind. One purpose.

His parents had never been like that. Growing up, his family had been poor, and that had put strain on both of them, making them angry and sharp with each other. Kallus had heard more fights than loving exchanges between them.

He hadn’t thought much of marriage then, and even now romance was far from the forefront of his mind. But it brought back a memory, one he hadn’t even remembered he had.

Back in the academy, he’d spent a lot of time wandering the upper levels of Coruscant, ignoring some of the snobbier of his classmates. And one day, when he’d been out and about, he’d spotted this couple. A man and woman, arm in arm.

They’d been totally unaware of any of the others around them, just talking to each other. The man had been in Imperial uniform, but the easy, warm smile was the first thing Kallus had seen, not his rank badge. The woman was wearing civilian clothing, but the way she leaned into him made everything else unimportant. They were both where they wanted to be, it was obvious.

Jarrus and the pilot had both had the same way about them. It was a small detail, but it was far from unimportant.

If the duo were romantically interested in each other, it could be used as leverage. The Grand Inquisitor would want to know.

And yet. Every time Kallus tried to write the report, he thought of that couple, happy and at peace. Not caring about anything else around them.

Perhaps, he thought, it doesn’t matter. Not that much. The rebels will be vanquished one way or another. This particular detail is hardly important.

Deleting what he’d started to write, he sent the rest of the report.

Season 2

“I see her! I see her, Kanan, it’s bad. You’ve got to hurry.”

Commander Jun Sato felt his stomach twist at the sight of the blackened wreck that was Captain Syndulla’s A-Wing, drifting toward their command vessel. Next to him, he could see Kanan’s stricken expression.

They’d sent her on what they’d hoped would be a peaceful expedition. But they should have known better. Where the Empire—and, for that matter, Mandalorians—were concerned, it was better to be cautious.

Now, they’d lost men. And there was no telling what Captain Syndulla’s condition was.

Sato opened his mouth to order a tractor beam to pull in the A-Wing, but Jarrus was already moving. “I’ve got her,” he called over his shoulder.

“...what does that mean, sir?” asked one of the very confused techs. “Should we use the tractor beam?”

Knowing the Jedi, it’s anyone’s guess. “Begin to tractor in the ship,” Sato decided. “Wait for my command to halt it, understood?”

The still baffled techs nodded, and Sato headed for the landing bay.

He wasn’t alone when he got there. There was a scattering of pilots and mechanics, and both Garazeb Orrelios and Ezra Bridger were arriving in the bay right behind him.

Kanan, on the other hand, was already there. His gaze was fixed on the ship being brought toward them. And as Sato watched, he lifted his hands, and the air seemed to thrum.

Grabbing his comlink, Sato keyed it on. “Switch off the tractor beam,” he ordered.

“Yes, sir—” one of the techs started, but fell silent sharply, most likely stunned silent by the same thing that had caused the hush in the hangar.

The A-Wing was moving of its own accord, with a different grace than that of the tractor beam. Sato sent a quick glance at Kanan, who had his eyes shut, expression perfectly calm and focused. A few heartbeats later, the ship came to rest a few yards away.

The other two A-Wings, piloted by Wren and the only other pilot who’d made it, came to rest a few moments later, but Sato was watching Kanan. Without waiting for the rescue team that had started forward, he’d leapt atop the A-Wing, freeing the top with a wave of his hand. Whispers rippled through the crowd watching, shock and awe flickering over their faces as Kanan carefully pulled Captain Syndulla free of the wreckage.

Blood soaked the front of her jumpsuit, and Sato could see gleaming shards of transparisteel and durasteel shrapnel. Kanan slipped his arms around her, one supporting her gently as he pressed two fingers against her neck. “She’s got a pulse,” he called over his shoulder, and Sato saw Ezra’s face crumple with relief. “Zeb, go let the med bay know I’m on my way.”

“On it!” Zeb shouted, bolting out of the room, Ezra on his heels. Kanan lifted Hera in his arms, leaping down from the A-Wing and moving for the door. As he passed, Sato heard him whisper, “I got you. Stay with us, Hera.”

As the Spectres disappeared from the landing bay, Sato took a moment to collect himself. Despite her injuries, he was almost positive that Captain Syndulla would make a full recovery. Perhaps it was just a gut feeling, but he suspected there was too much for her to come back to here, with her crew and her Jedi.

Season 3 (ish)

It had only been a week at the new base on Yavin 4 when Wedge started hearing people wondering about Captain Syndulla.

In their defense, she was an ace pilot, undoubtedly their best and most caring commanding officer, and all around one of the coolest people in the Rebellion. Wedge could understand why people would have a crush on her. He just also knew it was dumb and fruitless.

He, personally, had never harbored a shred of interest in the captain. She was the best pilot around, and she was incredibly kind. But first of all, she acted more like a mom than a potential crush.

And second of all, anyone who’d seen her around her Jedi for more than two seconds knew exactly how little a chance they had.

Some people may have argued that they never kissed or anything in real life, and there were no rings. How could they be sure Hera Syndulla and Kanan Jarrus were an item?

Wedge laughed at those people. A lot.

They could be sure because of every single moment between those two. Wedge had been there for many of those moments—how they acted like Ezra and Sabine’s parents, the stories Ezra and Zeb told, how they both worried about the other whenever they went on solo missions. Wedge had seen Captain Syndulla calling Kanan multiple times while he was out with Sabine and Ezra on their impromptu Mandalorian training camp, as Zeb referred to it.

And of course, there had been the moment, when Thrawn had found their base, and the bombardment had almost taken them out, when Hera had been trying to reach Kanan. Wedge had been there, getting ready to go back up in his A-Wing again. But he’d seen the fear in Hera’s eyes as she waited for Kanan to respond. And the pure joy when he spoke. And, of course, he still remembered what she’d said to him.

“Please, come home, love.”

So sure, people could claim that they didn’t know what was going on. That was fine. Wedge would happily laugh in their faces later if they tried to make a move on Captain Syndulla. He knew the truth.

Season 4

Yeah, this was definitely Ezra’s craziest plan yet.

He knew it, the purrgil probably knew it, the Imperials on the Chimaera definitely knew it, and his crew watching him far below knew it.

But he didn’t really care, as long as it kept them safe.

As he concentrated, and the purrgil started to prepare for hyperspace, he reached out, sensing the flickers of light that his crew were in the Force. They were all down there—Zeb, Chopper, Sabine, and Hera. The latter of whom were terrified, and he hated that.

He knew how much Hera didn’t want to lose someone else. Especially now, with the flicker of life growing within her. (She and Kanan assumed no one knew, but Ezra wasn’t an idiot. He’d sensed the baby pretty quickly, and he couldn’t be happier.)

But it was okay, he thought, his mind shifting to another flicker of light—this one farther away, and dim, still recovering. They’re in good hands.

Really, he should have known Kanan wasn’t dead right away. Death wouldn’t dare take his master away from the woman he loved.

Take care of them, Kanan, he thought.

Aloud, he said, “And remember, the Force will be with you. Always.”

And then he was gone.

Ahsoka series

“If Thrawn survived does that mean Ezra…”

Hera’s voice wavered, trailing off, but Ahsoka could see the hope in her eyes. The hope that had faded far too much over the past few years. “I hope so,” she said gently.

“I know so.”

Kanan’s voice was firm, steady, and Ahsoka glanced at him. “You’ve sensed him?”

The man sighed, running a hand over his hair—already going silver, Ahsoka noted, most likely thanks to the influence of a certain green-haired child and his orange droid accomplice. “No,” he admitted. “But I would have sensed it if he was—I would have sensed it. I don’t care how many drugs I was on at the time.”

He was stubborn, as he’d always been about this. Ahsoka knew Hera hadn’t held onto as much hope as Kanan had, no matter how much she trusted him. It was hard to hope for so long. She’d been there herself.

Changing the subject, she brought up the star map, and explained how they’d been unable to open it so far. Hera snorted in amusement. “Never a straight line with you Jedi, is it?” she asked, shooting a sideways glance at Kanan.

A smile curved up the corner of his mouth. “Makes life more interesting this way, you’ve got to admit.”

“Do I?” Hera quipped just as a Mon Calamari appeared on the balcony above them.

“General, the Defense Council is requesting an update on the incident,” he said.

“Tell them I’ll be right there,” Hera told him before turning back to Ahsoka. “You know who could help you with this,” she said, handing her back the star map.

Sabine. “I’m not sure she’ll want to help,” Ahsoka said slowly.

“She will,” Hera told her. “For Ezra.”

“And she definitely will if you bring back up,” Kanan added, and Ahsoka and Hera looked at him at the same time.

“Are you volunteering?” Ahsoka asked slowly, and he and Hera exchanged one of those looks that held a thousand words. Their ability to communicate without words truly rivaled that of the Jedi—though so many years of marriage would do that, she supposed.

“I am,” Kanan said. To Hera, he said, “It’s been way too long since we saw her anyway. And I can bring Jacen, get him out of the fighter pilots’ hair.”

Hera laughed. “Fair enough. Okay, then. I’ve got a defense council to appease—don’t leave without saying goodbye.” Giving Ahsoka a smile, she headed out of the room.

Turning to face her, Kanan said, “Okay. Let’s go find Ezra.”

If anyone could do it, Ahsoka mused, it was this crew.

#kanera #kaneraweek2024 #hera syndulla #kanan jarrus #swr #star wars rebels #zaluna myder #agent kallus #jun sato #wedge antilles #ezra bridger #ahsoka tano #that might be it for kanera week #i don't have anything written for tomorrow #and i don't really foresee that changing? but we'll see #writing stories is a kind of magic too

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