#kanans dead. heras fighting for the new republic which he probably isn’t interested in.

[peachyhoolagan]

Ezra never would have left her.

Ezra never would have left her.

Ezra never would have left her.

Ezra never would have left her.

Ezra never would have left her.

Ezra never would have left her.

Ezra never would have left her.

[bedlamsbard]

Part 10 of the other side AU concept!  Next up will be the epilogue scenes.  As a reminder from Part 1, the current state of the New Republic here takes more from the EU than it does from the new canon (though has some nods in that direction), because I’m more familiar with the EU and like it more.

Previous: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

About 6.5K below the break.

***

Only General Airen Cracken, the head of Rebel Intelligence, and Leia Organa were present when Hera did her post-mission debrief.  She suspected that this op was going to be the kind whose reports were mysteriously lost – that if they ever existed at all – but as it was she gave Cracken and Leia the truth as best she could.

When she had finished, Cracken and Leia glanced at each other.  The small office was quiet for a long time, broken only by the hum of the air filters on the big warship and the sound of steps in the corridor beyond the closed door.

Cracken turned the data card with the Cluster-Prism files over in his fingers, frowning to himself. He was a human male with graying fair hair, his mild expression belying the sharpness in his eyes.  After a few moments, he said, “I would say that none of what you just told us leaves this room, but I assume under the circumstances you’ll be informing members of your old crew the details.”

“I could hardly not,” Hera said, forbearing to point out that most of them had been there when she had returned.  Luke and Ahsoka had taken Kanan off to talk to him privately; since Hera hadn’t heard any alarm klaxons yet, either they had all killed each other quietly or it was going as well as it could under the circumstances.  Luke and Ahsoka didn’t get along at the best of times and this wasn’t those.

Cracken tapped the edge of the data card on his desk, then shrugged and said, “This should get us a step ahead of Warlord Zsinj – several steps ahead, with any luck.  Will you be transferring back to the Lodestar?  You’re due some leave that I assume you’ll want to take under the circumstances.”

“Airen, you know as well as I do that a general never really gets to go on leave,” Hera said dryly, which made the corner of his mouth quirk up in a grin.

“I do that.”  He pulled open a desk drawer, removed something, and tossed it to her. “By the way, the Council vote was four days ago. Alliance commissions are automatically transferred to the New Republic, but if you did want a new assignment, this would be the time to ask.”

Hera caught the neat circle of embroidered fabric and inspected it; the new insignia was the Rebel Alliance starbird surrounded by fifteen starbursts.  She turned the patch over in her fingers, thinking.

“Hera?” Cracken said, when she had been silent too long for comfort.

Hera put the patch down on the desk in front of her, smoothing her fingers over the starbird, and looked up at Cracken. “I’m going to resign my commission.”

His sandy eyebrows shot up. “Why?”

“There’s something I’ve needed to do for a long time,” Hera said slowly, “and I’ve put it aside for far too long.  I can’t do that anymore.”

“You’re talking about Ezra Bridger,” Leia said.

Hera glanced at her. “Yes.”

Cracken rubbed a hand over his chin. “I’ve read those files.  Vanished off into the Unknown Regions with Grand Admiral Thrawn and what was left of the Seventh Fleet.”

Hera nodded.

“I met Thrawn, back in the old days,” Cracken remarked.  “If he ever returned, we could be in for a bigger fight than Zsinj and Isard and the rest of that lot have been giving us.  Do you have any reason to think they’re out there? Bridger, Thrawn, the Chimaera, any of the other ships from the Seventh?”

“No more reason than to think they’re not,” Hera said. “I won’t be alone.”

“Mmm.”  Cracken tapped his fingers on the table.  “Not being from Starfighter Command or representing High Command in this case, I can’t accept your resignation, General Syndulla. I will say that since the Council vote, we’ve already had a rash of personnel resigning, officers and enlisted alike.  Some of them aren’t interested in going legit, others believe that the Council vote means the war is over.”  He shook his head.  “As long as there’s even one Imperial Remnant ship or base out there, the war will never be over.  You’d be surprised at how many people don’t believe that, though.”

“No, I wouldn’t.”

He snorted.  “No, you wouldn’t.  You’re like the rest of us old-timers.  We saw too much.  Kills our credibility as far as the kids who joined up after Yavin or even Endor think, let alone the ones who lived through Cinder.”  He leaned back in his chair, sharp eyes considering.  “You’re too good an officer to lose, Hera.”

She stiffened, but he held up a finger to silence her before she could protest.

“Let me finish before you tell me to go to hell and flounce off with that resurrected boyfriend of yours.”

“I never flounce, Airen. And it’s fiancé.”

His eyebrows went up. “Congratulations are in order, I suppose.”  Then he frowned. “Is this for the damn pension?  Because as I recall, technically Jarrus was never an Alliance officer –”

Leia stirred and said, “It’s in the Articles that members of informal rebel cells have the right to apply for retroactive status if they couldn’t formally join the Alliance due to captivity, distance, or other reasons –”

“Such as being dead?” Cracken said.

Hera met his gaze. “Prove it.”

He massaged his forehead. “Oh, for love of the Force.”

“The last formal rank he held was commander,” Hera said.

“In the Grand Army of the Republic, I assume.”

“There’s precedent. Rex –”

Cracken waved a hand. “I’ll sign the datawork if that’s what you want.  If it’s just for the pension rather than actually finding him a command –” He tapped a finger on the data card. “This does count for something, but we’re a bit short of commands at the moment.”

“What, even with officers resigning left and right?” Hera asked.

“That’s not the problem. The Governing Council wants to reduce the size of the military, despite the fact that nothing actually changed after they had the vote and we’ve still got Zsinj and Gideon and half a dozen other warlords out there.”

Her voice very dry, Leia said, “There’s a faction in the Council that believes that once we have an established government again with a senate and maybe a chancellor or a president or whatever we decide to call it that most of the Remnant holdouts and the independents will fall in line.”

Hera rolled her eyes. “Has Borsk Fey’lya actually talked to any of the independents?”

“You can tell me if you think your father would pick up his calls.”

Hera snorted softly. Ryloth had refused the offer to formally join the Rebel Alliance until certain conditions were met, which the Alliance Council had been refusing to grant for the past year.  With the Curia in disarray after almost twenty years of the Empire doing its best to delegitimize it, Cham Syndulla had managed to get the bulk of political power on Ryloth in his own hands, for better or worse.  “Not the last time I spoke to him, which was only two weeks ago.  We’re getting off-topic, Airen.  And yes, the pension would be useful; just use the carbonite forms and leave the being dead part out of it; it isn’t like it’s never happened before.  But that’s not what I’m talking about.”

“Starfighter Command won’t accept your resignation without a good reason, and maybe not even then,” Cracken said, with a wince at the words “carbonite forms.”  They hadn’t been used often, but they were a datawork nightmare for everyone involved.

“Why not?  I’m a decent combat commander, but there are plenty of others who are just as good or better, and you can’t tell me that some of the people thinking about retiring wouldn’t be just as happy training pilots, so I’m not exactly necessary there.”

He ticked off reasons on his fingers.  “You’re young, you’re pretty, you’re a woman, you’re not human, you’re a general – for that matter, you’re from one of the independent worlds in the Outer Rim and in high society back on Ryloth, even if most Core Worlders see that as the back of beyond – because most Core Worlders see that as the back of beyond –”

Hera frowned. “What does any of that have to do with it?”

“Apparently Ackbar had this conversation with Wedge Antilles while you were gone over some hot new project Antilles has in mind – nothing to do with you, but Antilles pointed out that most of the best-known officers in the Alliance – excuse me, the New Republic – are human, and mostly male.  Except for you,” he added to Leia, who grimaced.  “You, General Hera Syndulla,” Cracken went on, pointing at her, “are a PR officer’s dream.  I guarantee that whenever you get back to the Lodestar there will be a message waiting for you with orders to report for a HoloNet interview and probably a photoshoot.  All very reserved but sexy, to make it clear that the New Republic is open to everyone and that we’re not the Empire; even a Twi’lek woman can rise high.”

Hera fought down the memory of the younger Hera’s anguished voice saying, Most humans just think certain things about Twi’lek women. I’m sure even your Rebel Alliance is like that.  “If you’re trying to convince me not to resign, it’s not working.”

“It won’t matter, because Starfighter Command won’t accept your resignation, and Ackbar won’t for the same reason if you try to go over their heads to him.  He doesn’t look good on the front of a holomag unless you happen to be another Mon Cala.”

Hera rubbed a hand over her face.  “Please just stop talking or I won’t even bother with resigning and just desert.”

“Yes, please do,” Leia said dryly.  To Hera she added, “You’re not the only one, but I don’t work as well for it because I’m human and a princess of Alderaan.  And married, but a really good reporter could spin that if they wanted to.”

“I’m trying to get married,” Hera pointed out. “Get to the point, Airen.”

“You were seconded to Intelligence for this operation,” Cracken said. “I can’t accept your resignation, but I could give you a new assignment.  And right now no one’s going to notice if you’re transferred here permanently, with all the datawork chaos from the transition.”  He held up a hand to still her protest.  “You may need a New Republic general’s authority if you’re out in the Unknown Regions searching for a missing Imperial fleet.  We’ve had rumors about Thrawn for years; he’s been the bogeyman beneath the Alliance’s bed since well before Endor.  Since Jakku, more than a few Imperials have vanished, claiming they’re off to find him.  If he’s out there, then we need to find him before they do, and they have a head start.”

Hera leaned back in her chair, frowning.  “Starfighter Command is not going to like you poaching me anymore than they’ll like me resigning.”

Cracken and Leia exchanged a glance. “I can handle the fallout,” Leia said. “There’s enough else going on right now that no one is going to notice for a while, since you’re seconded already.”

Hera turned her frown on Cracken. “What do you get out of this?”

“We get someone out in the Unknown Regions looking for Thrawn,” Cracken said, raising an eyebrow. “Which I’ve been asking for since Endor, but we’ve never had the resources to send anyone out there.  We still don’t, but if you’re going anyway –”  He tilted his head.

Hera suspected there was a trap in here somewhere, but as it went Intelligence didn’t have so many generals in it that anyone but Cracken could give her orders.  “I agree with conditions,” she said.

“What are those?”

“I don’t answer to anyone but you – or Ackbar,” she had to concede, since as the commander-in-chief of the New Republic military he had precedence even over divisional commands, “– and my crew draws a salary.”

Cracken closed his eyes briefly, clearly annoyed, but just said, “Agreed.  We’ll discuss the specifics later.”

Hera and Leia left a few minutes after that, letting the door slide shut behind them as they stepped out into the corridor.

“I have something for you that I didn’t want to give you in front of General Cracken,” Hera told her quietly, drawing her aside into an empty room.  She withdrew the box Bail Organa had given her from the bag slung over her shoulder, holding it out to Leia.

For a long moment Leia just looked at it.  Eventually, she reached out, her fingers hovering just above the silver insignia inlaid in the fine wood of the lid, then she snatched her hand back as though she couldn’t bear to touch it.  Hera didn’t protest, just waited patiently as Leia stared at it.

She hadn’t left her meeting with Bail Organa out of her report, though she hadn’t conveyed the exact content of their conversation either, not having a Jedi’s near-eidetic memory.

Finally, Leia reached out with shaking hands and took the box from her.  She didn’t open it, just drew it in against herself, cradling it against her chest.  Her voice a little shaky, she said, “He was…well?”

“Yes,” Hera said.  She started to reach out, then hesitated, not certain if Leia wanted the comfort or not.

Leia didn’t seem to see her. She whispered, “They’ll live. They’ll all live.  Somewhere else, even if not…here.  They’ll live.”  She bit her lip, then looked up, her eyes brimming with tears.  “I’d like to be alone now.”

Hera nodded.  She touched Leia’s shoulder briefly and found that the younger woman was trembling; Hera squeezed her shoulder and then left her alone, letting the door slide closed behind her.

*

She was on her way back to the Ghost, docked in one of the massive warship’s several bays, when she ran into Ahsoka.  Hera stopped at the other woman’s gesture, stepping aside into a mostly empty wardroom.  The only two officers already there cleared out when they saw Hera’s general’s insignia, saluting her briefly before they left.

Hera eyed Ahsoka a bit warily.  While they had been friendly in the old days with Phoenix Squadron, Hera had never been able to feel anything other than resentful of Ahsoka’s return from Malachor, nor had she been able to shake the suspicion that the other woman was keeping something from her.  Something had changed there, something more drastic than the circumstances had suggested. Hera was vaguely aware that that was more than a little unfair, given what those circumstances had been, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.  It helped that since her return Ahsoka had avoided her and most of the other members of the Rebel Alliance, preferring to go off on her own rather than take any formal role.

“Before you ask,” Ahsoka said, “it was my decision to bring Jacen here.  Sabine went to get him from Ryloth.  I spoke to General Syndulla before she arrived.”

Hera felt the muscle in her jaw twitch.  Political reasons meant her father couldn’t set foot on a New Republic ship and thus couldn’t have come with Jacen; Ahsoka must have been very convincing to get him to agree to this.  “I hope you have a good explanation for why you thought my five-year-old son ought to be on a warship.”

Ahsoka tucked her hands behind her back, frowning. “Believe me, Hera, if I hadn’t thought it was necessary I never would have brought him here.  Rex didn’t find me until after you had already left.”

“That still doesn’t explain why my son is here,” Hera said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Because I didn’t think we would be able to get you back without him,” Ahsoka said. “And we nearly didn’t even with him here.”

Hera frowned at her. “Explain.”

Ahsoka sighed and looked around, then dropped into the nearest armchair and folded her legs in front of her.  Hera sat too, a little stiffly; the chairs and couches in the room were all mismatched and hard-worn, but comfortable enough compared to the inside of a cockpit.

“When Luke sent you away – sent you over there – he had to have a – for lack of a better word, an anchor, a target.  That was why they had to use you and not someone else.”  She rubbed briefly at her forehead, suddenly looking every day of her thirty-odd years.

Hera nodded warily. “No one else with a high enough clearance for this op could be relatively certain of being able to access the same place they probably were before Scarif. We weren’t even sure just using the Ghost would work, except it did.”

“She – the Hera Syndulla from that universe, I mean – was there when you arrived?” Ahsoka inquired, looking briefly curious.

“Not in the room.  She said she was just outside the ship – the Ghost was docked in a hangar on Naboo.”

“Hmm.”  Ahsoka smoothed the side of her thumb over the armor plate resting across her crossed legs, her expression academically curious for an instant before she drew herself back to the subject at hand. “Having her there, in the Ghost, in a specific time span, gave Luke something to aim for.  It could have been any number of other universes, too, other – other possibilities.”

Hera nodded.  “Kanan – the other Kanan – said that the reason Luke had to use those constraints because he wasn’t aiming for anything very, very specific.  He had to have a range, but not one which was too wide.”

Ahsoka frowned in thought. “I suppose.  I didn’t think about it like that, but the dialect on the artifact is very archaic. My grasp on it is better than Luke’s, but I came to the same conclusion he did.”  She looked up, her brows drawing together.  “The…other Kanan.  He didn’t use an artifact or a focus of any kind?”

Hera shook her head. “He said he didn’t need to.  He said that Jedi didn’t use artifacts like that for anything they couldn’t do naturally, those just made it easier, but he also didn’t think he would be able to manage it if he didn’t know who he was looking for or if I wasn’t there, because otherwise he would have to – to sort through all the options, and he didn’t think he could do that.”

The other woman nodded slowly, her frown deepening.  For a moment she looked like she was considering commenting on that, then she shook her head and said, “Anyway, that’s going there.  Coming back is harder, especially since you’re not a Force-user and can’t direct yourself.  Going there, the other Hera Syndulla could act as an anchor for you, to – to pull you into that universe.  But to come back to this universe – well, you’re not here.  You’re already gone.  One of the holocrons Luke found talked about people getting lost in the transition.”  She flattened her palms on her knees.  “We didn’t find the reference until after you had left.”

“What does Jacen have to with any of that?” Hera asked, deciding to worry about that later.

“Jacen is your son,” Ahsoka said. “Blood of your blood, bone of your bone, to be old-fashioned about it. Your father probably would have worked just as well, but –”

“But he can’t set foot on an Alliance – a New Republic ship unless Ryloth joins the New Republic,” Hera said, rubbing a hand over her face.  “You could have taken the Ghost to Ryloth instead of bringing Jacen here.”

Ahsoka shook her head. “The same reason but the other way around.  And General Cracken wouldn’t allow it, since this was an Intelligence operation.  I did ask.”

Hera ground her teeth and bit back her first few responses to that.  When she didn’t say anything, Ahsoka went on, “We thought that Jacen would be able to serve as an anchor for you in this universe, especially because he’s Force-sensitive.  We weren’t counting on –”

“Kanan?” Hera filled in for her when she hesitated, and Ahsoka winced.

“No.  He…probably helped you along, but it’s hard to tell. It’s not like any of this has been done in living memory.”  She glanced aside, clearly uncomfortable.

“Jacen is Kanan’s son too,” Hera pointed out.

“Yes,” Ahsoka admitted, looking even more uncomfortable. “I’m sure that helped.  I don’t know what would have happened if your father had been here instead of Jacen.”  She added with the ghost of a smile, “You should probably comm your father when you have a chance.”

“I’ll do that,” Hera said dryly. “He’d probably like to know that Kanan’s back and we’re getting married, too.”

Ahsoka sat up so abruptly that Hera heard her back pop. “What?”

“We’re getting married,” Hera repeated, raising an eyebrow.

Ahsoka pushed to her feet and paced the room, as if she suddenly couldn’t bear being seated any longer. Hera turned her head to watch her, frowning. “Do you have a problem with that?”

“No, of course not,” Ahsoka said, her voice strained and the words seemingly automatic; almost in the same breath she finished, “Yes.”

Hera felt the muscle in her jaw jump. “You and Kanan used to be friends.”  You and I used to be friends, she thought, but held back the words.  They weren’t enemies, but it had been a long time since they had been friends. Some of that was due to Hera’s inability to look at any Force-user without thinking, it should have been Kanan, but Ahsoka had pulled away from everyone except Rex after she had come back from Malachor.

Ahsoka stopped pacing. She was still facing away from Hera, but Hera could tell that she had her arms crossed over her chest, her shoulders hunched in.  “We were. We are.”

Hera rubbed a hand over her face.  She wanted to go back to the Ghost, reassure herself of Kanan’s presence, hug her son, and comm her father, but apparently she had to deal with this first. “Do you have something against my son?”

“Jacen’s a very nice boy,” Ahsoka said without turning around.  She was quiet for a long moment, then she said, “Do you know who Luke’s father is?”

“A Jedi Knight who was killed during the Purge,” Hera said.  She and Luke had talked about it a little when they had been stationed on Hoth together; he had sought her out after someone had told him about Kanan and Ezra.

“Anakin Skywalker,” Ahsoka said, a wealth of pain in her voice. “He was my master.  And he didn’t die during the Purge.”  She took a deep breath, then turned around to face Hera. “You might know him better as Darth Vader.”

Hera blinked rapidly.

“I don’t think – I know Kanan.  I knew Kanan. The situation isn’t the same.  I just –” Ahsoka bit her lower lip.

“You had better not be saying what it sounds like you’re saying,” Hera said quietly.

Ahsoka closed her eyes briefly. “After – Malachor – I did some digging.  During the Clone War I’d made assumptions – well, we all had. It’s not as though Jedi never had affairs, though we weren’t permitted commitments outside the Order.  And Padmé – Luke’s mother – had been a friend of mine. We all knew they were having an affair. Except it wasn’t an affair.  They had been married in secret just after the war started.”  There was agony on her face as she looked at Hera.  “Anakin broke his vows, and because of it the Order died.  They all died.”

Hera got to her feet. “Kanan isn’t him.”

“I know that!” Ahsoka snapped.  She took a deep breath, putting one hand on the back of the chair nearest her.

“And the Jedi Order is a generation in its grave.  There’s no one left but you and Kanan.”

“I know that too,” Ahsoka said.  She was clutching the back of the chair so tightly that Hera heard the suede of her gauntlets creak.

Hera crossed her arms over her chest. “Does Luke know you knew his father?”

Ahsoka shook her head. “Knowing wouldn’t serve any purpose.  The Anakin Skywalker I knew…”  She let the words trail off, then shook her head again.  “I can’t look at him and think of anything but what Anakin did, and I won’t burden him with that more than he is already.  That’s not a ghost he needs to carry with him.”

“Is it one that you need to?” Hera asked her quietly.

“If I could set it aside I would,” Ahsoka said.  She sounded unspeakably weary. “But everyone I know died.  That isn’t an exaggeration.  Everyone I know – except Rex – died because of him, because he decided to break his vows and we all loved him so much we let him.”  She rubbed a hand over her face, briefly dislodging her headband.  “Hera, it’s nothing against Kanan, truly, or you, or Jacen.  But Anakin was a good person too, and so was Padmé.  And – and everyone died.  All of them.  Padmé, Obi-Wan, the Order, the clones, the Republic – they all died because of Anakin. The Emperor as well, but – Anakin sided with that.  And I’ll never know why, not really.  I did what I could to find out, but – but everyone is dead.  There’s no one left who knows.  They’re all dead.  And Anakin did that.”

She looked up at Hera. “That’s what I see every time I look at Luke.  I won’t give him that burden, but I can’t set it aside either.”

“Is that what you think about Kanan and me?” Hera asked her. “That we’re on the knife’s edge of everyone dying?”

“No,” Ahsoka said. “No.  But when you said it –”  She hesitated, then went on, “– when you said it, it was the only thing I could think of. And I know you and I knew Kanan, but I knew Anakin too.”  She looked at the chair she was gripping, then sighed and moved around to drop into it. “I knew you and Kanan were involved before, but I didn’t – I didn’t have to know it, if that makes sense.  And I didn’t know about Anakin then.  When I came back, I did know, and – and you had Jacen.  And Luke was there too, and I couldn’t…I couldn’t bear it. I know it’s not fair,” she added defensively as Hera glared at her.

“No, it’s not.”  She tried to bite back the sarcasm in her voice, but suspected she didn’t succeed.  She stood there, looking at Ahsoka’s slumped form in the armchair, and said the first thing that came to mind, “Did you tell Kanan you were worried about him snapping and murdering us all?”

Ahsoka looked badly startled. “No, of course not.  We had other things to discuss.”  She grimaced, then added, “And Luke was there, and some of what I have to say to Kanan I won’t say in front of him.”

Oh, this should be good, Hera thought.  She had always thought of Ahsoka as fairly even-tempered, but the handful of occasions where she hadn’t managed to avoid Luke had been memorable for everyone with the misfortune to be in the vicinity. “Then if you’re not going to say it to me, I need to go comm my father.”

She was almost at the door when Ahsoka said slowly, “Hera –”

 She turned back. “What?”

Ahsoka bit her lower lip. She was quiet for a long moment, then she said, “Ezra could have brought Kanan back six years ago, when he brought me back, and I stopped him.”

Hera froze.

Ahsoka looked back at her, her gaze weary. “There was a reason –”

“I don’t care,” Hera said. Her mind felt as though it had gone blank with either shock or rage; she wasn’t sure which at this point.  She balled up her fists at her sides, not certain either whether she just needed something to do with her hands or if she was trying not to hit Ahsoka.  “I don’t care,” she said again, and was surprised to find that it was the truth. She took a shuddering breath, because Kanan was here now and it really didn’t matter as long as Ahsoka didn’t try to remedy what she clearly thought of as a mistake.  Then her mind caught up with the rest of what Ahsoka had said and she snapped, “Do you know where Ezra is?”

“No,” Ahsoka said. She had sat up straight, but not risen. “This was before he went missing – from what Sabine’s told me, from when he went inside the Jedi Temple on Lothal.”

Less than a day after Kanan had died.

Hera stared at her, trying to think of something to say.  She only realized she had put her hand over her stomach when she felt the edge of her belt buckle pressing into the side of her hand.  She had been pregnant then and only just beginning to realize it; she wouldn’t be certain for another few weeks.

Hera still had nightmares about that day.

“I told Ezra I would find him,” Ahsoka said.

“Don’t bother,” Hera said. “We’ll do that.”

She turned and left.

She felt as if she was having an out of body experience, her hands still shaking, the ordinary ship sounds around her strangely muted, even the recycled air moving across her face every time she passed a vent seemingly alien.  Whatever expression was on her face seemed to warn anyone off; passing crew members or pilots veered around her.

Slowly – painfully slowly – reality reasserted itself, and by the time she had reached the hangar bay where the Ghost was docked she was breathing normally again, the sound of her footsteps on the durasteel floor familiar instead of muffled.  When she tapped her code into the Ghost’s locking mechanism and waited for the ramp to lower she almost didn’t feel like screaming anymore.

Once inside she raised the ramp again, then just stood with her forehead tipped against the ladder leading up to the cockpit, aware of the sound of voices from up above.  Kanan’s was one of them, though several layers of deck and closed doors made it impossible for her to make out the words. She let the cool metal of the ladder leech out her remaining anger until she finally felt calm enough to climb up and follow the voices into the common room.

She stopped in the doorway, fighting back her instinct to burst into immediate tears.  Kanan was sitting on the floor with Jacen, his expression somewhere between stunned and awed.  Jacen had brought out the box of toys Hera kept on the Ghost, as well as some that he must have brought with him from Ryloth, and was gravely showing them to Kanan.  He did this by putting each one into Kanan’s left hand, then guiding Kanan’s right hand over the toy – at the moment it was a large stuffed anooba plush that Numa had made him several years earlier.  Sabine and Zeb were sitting at the holotable, watching them and looking like they weren’t terribly far from tears either.  Chopper was watching too, and somehow managed to look as emotional as it was possible for an astromech droid to get, though at Hera’s approach he chortled a greeting.

“Mama!” Jacen said gleefully, abandoning the anooba in Kanan’s hands, and scrambled up to run to her.

Hera hugged him, kissing his hair. “Hi, baby.  Are you and your father and Auntie Sabine and Uncle Zeb having fun?”

Jacen nodded enthusiastically and tugged her towards Kanan and the pile of toys. “Look what Grandpapa gave me!”

Hera sat down next to Kanan and leaned over to kiss him, then turned her attention to the delicately carved nunas-and-gutkurrs set Jacen showed her.  After he was certain she had seen it, he took each small animal out of the case to hand to Kanan, who inspected it solemnly with his fingers before passing it back and accepting the next one.  Hera had had a similar set when she was a child, but had lost most of the pieces by the time she was ten.

“So are you heading back to Starfighter Command now?” Zeb said eventually, his voice elaborately casual. Chopper echoed the question, curious.

“No,” Hera said. “I’m transferring permanently to Intelligence, and there’s something I need to talk to all of you about.”

Sabine, who had been slouching and picking at some peeling paint on her knuckle plates, sat up straight. “We’re going after Ezra?”

Hera stared at her. “I didn’t even say anything!”

Sabine waved a hand. “It’s the only thing it could be, now that Kanan’s back.”  She grinned happily at him.  “Unless you wanted to stay and help Luke with his mission to restore the Jedi.”

Kanan grimaced. “He seems like a nice kid, but I just spent three hours in the middle of a doctrinal dispute and I didn’t even think I still had standards for heresy.”

They all stared at him.

“…what,” Zeb said eventually.

He winced. “Don’t ask. I was afraid to because I’m pretty sure I disagree with both of them, but pointing that out just now seemed like it was asking for trouble.”

“Amateurs,” Sabine sniffed. “No one’s dead yet.  By Mandalorian standards that’s barely even a spirited debate.”

“To be fair, two of us were dead,” Kanan pointed out dryly. “We just happened to get better.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t die from the doctrinal debate, so it doesn’t count.”

“That’s because every time the Jedi have a doctrinal debate that results in someone dying it also results in a galactic civil war that lasts for years and kills hundreds of thousands of other people,” Kanan said. “So we try to avoid getting to that point.”

Sabine shrugged. “Maybe if you had those more often you’d have smaller civil wars.”

Zeb frowned at her. “Isn’t that why all you Mandalorians hate each other in the first place?”

“Not as much as we hate anyone who tries to interfere in our civil wars.”

Zeb gave Hera a pained expression.

“Don’t look at me,” Hera said, gathering Jacen into her lap. “Ryloth was still having blood feuds between clans three generations ago, and even now you shouldn’t try to get a Fenn and a Kru in the same room together if you don’t want trouble.”

Sabine pointed at her. “See, someone who understands me.”

“I don’t think anyone understands you,” Zeb muttered. “Back on Lasan – and Lira San – we all just sued each other.”

“Well, that sounds boring.”

“And dueling, but that’s been illegal for a century – two on Lira San.  And that’s only for extreme cases anyway.”

“Now we’re talking,” Sabine said, sounding more satisfied as Chopper chuckled agreement. “I was starting to get worried for a moment there.”

“About what?” Kanan wondered out loud. “It’s not like there aren’t lawyers on Mandalore.”

“Well, not anymore,” Sabine said.

Kanan raised an eyebrow at her, then visibly decided not to pursue that line of questioning any further and went on, “And I’m pretty sure under the circumstances trying to kill either Luke or Ahsoka would have been a bad idea.”

Hera felt the muscle in her jaw twitch again. Jacen turned his face up to her, feeling her sudden tension, and Hera hugged him.  Kanan picked up one of Jacen’s discarded toys, a small stuffed Loth-wolf, and balanced it briefly on the palm of his hand.  Then he turned his hand sideways, the Loth-wolf remaining suspended in mid-air, and sent the Loth-wolf galloping towards Jacen.  He bounced with glee, making Hera let out a soft oof, and caught it.

“I can do that too!” He narrowed his eyes in concentration, then sent the Loth-wolf back to Kanan.  It wobbled a little in mid-air, but Kanan caught it easily, grinning.  He picked up the anooba Jacen had shown him earlier.

Jacen put his hands out gleefully, not waiting for Kanan to send it to him. It sailed through the air to him and he hugged it, then he caught the Loth-wolf that Kanan sent after it.

“Hold that for a few minutes, love, we need to talk,” Hera told him.  She settled him more comfortably in her lap – he was heavier than she remembered him being, but then again she hadn’t seen him in person for several months – and looked at the rest of her crew.

Her crew.

She, Zeb, Sabine, and Chopper had only been in the same place a handful of times over the past six years, and Kanan hadn’t been there at all.  Hera had served with a number of people whom she had gotten along with, many of whom she had liked, but none of them were the three beings and one droid in the room with her now – in the Ghost with her now.  She had thought that she would go to her grave without ever having this again.

Hera swallowed past the lump in her throat.  “There have been rumors about Grand Admiral Thrawn and the Seventh Fleet for years,” she said.  Zeb knew some of this, but she didn’t think Sabine did and Kanan certainly didn’t. “Rebel Intelligence has never been able to confirm that they’re still out there or that Thrawn was in touch with the Emperor – or anyone from the Remnant, for that matter.  Because we’ve been busy dealing with the warlords since Endor, General Cracken – that’s the head of Intelligence,” she added for Kanan’s benefit, “– hasn’t been able to send anyone out into the Unknown Regions to investigate the rumors.”

“What happened to General Draven?” Kanan asked, startled; the previous head of Rebel Intelligence had been on Yavin while they had been there.

“He died,” Hera said. “Five years ago.”

Kanan winced.

“So since we’re going to be out there anyway, we might as well do it with Alliance – Republic – authority?” Sabine said.  She cocked an eyebrow at Hera. “That is what you said to Cracken?”

“More or less,” Hera said. “Doing it with Republic authority was his idea.  I was just going to resign.”  She hesitated, then added, “I can’t order you – any of you – to come. But I’ve let this go long enough and I won’t wait any longer.”  She couldn’t help but look at Kanan as she went on, “Ezra is family, and we’ve all lost enough family to the Empire.”

“I’m in,” Sabine said.

“Me too,” Zeb said. Chopper chortled agreement.

Kanan just leaned over and kissed her.

Hera let out her breath, relief making her shoulders slump. “All right,” she said. “Make your arrangements. We have to take Jacen back to Ryloth.” She smiled at Kanan. “And we’re getting married.”

That got them a round of back-slapping and congratulations and promising not to actually do it until both Sabine and Zeb could be there.  By the time they were all settled down again, Hera was flushed with happiness, leaning against Kanan’s shoulder with her other arm around her son.

We’re all right, she thought, looking around at her crew – at her family.  We’re all going to be all right.

[bedlamsbard]

Part 13 of the other side AU concept!  I am going to eventually pull these apart into parts one (Devil’s in the Details) and two (Carry the Fire) and do edits/rewrites to the extent they meet my standards for going up on AO3 as chaptered, titled fics, but I don’t currently have the mental and emotional energy for that.  (Have you...met January 2021?)  In the meantime here are my in-progress playlists, if there’s interest: Devil’s in the Details and Carry the Fire.

About 5.8K below the break.

*

Zeb got up to keep watch, since he had the best ears of the group; Kanan took his place on the tree root and Ezra leaned back to keep his head tipped against Kanan’s knee, barely able to comprehend that single point of connection.  Kanan’s presence radiated through the Force with startling solidity, as if after years of shadows someone had suddenly turned on a light in a dark room. Ezra had to fight back his urge to roll around in that strength like an overjoyed Loth-cat in a patch of sunlight.

“I don’t know exactly what happened when the Chimaera went down,” he said eventually.  He hesitated, not wanting to get into the fact that at the time he had still been locked in his cell.  He didn’t think he could get away without telling them that at all, but he didn’t want to lead off with it if he could help it.  “I wasn’t up in the bridge – Thrawn and Pellaeon didn’t really want me near anything important.  What I heard later was that the Vong tricked the Scylla and the Charybdis – they’re the only other ships left in the Seventh – into leaving the Chimaera, and once the cruisers were out of reach they hit the Chimaera with everything they had. Their ships aren’t like ours,” he added slowly. “They’re living things, for one – I have no idea how that works.  They’re not shielded, but they’ve got some kind of – of miniature black holes that move around on their ships, swallowing up most shots before they can get through at all.  Dovin basals, that’s what they call them.  TIE pilots don’t know how to deal with them – ship gunners either, for that matter.  I don’t know how they work; the Chimaera’s scientists were trying to figure it out.”

He glanced over at Sabine in time to see her eyebrows snap together, obviously trying to work it out for herself without even having seen one.  She still had the piece of broken beskar in her hand, like she couldn’t comprehend what had happened to it.

“The Chimaera had already taken a lot of damage by the time the Vong started boarding,” Ezra went on slowly.  “Zafira – that’s the death trooper captain – let me out around then, but I was never on the bridge or anything.  I guess Thrawn had the idea that the Vong ships might not be able to survive in atmosphere since they’re alive and they live in space, so he started bringing the Chimaera down into the planet’s atmosphere.”

Sabine whistled softly. “Did it work?”

Ezra shrugged. “You saw the Chimaera.”  He was quiet for a moment, remembering the desperate battle in the narrow corridors of the star destroyers – lights flickering as power was cut off, then restored, emergency notifications about hull breaches still blaring out absurdly over the sound of blasterfire and Vong war cries.  He would have given his right hand for his lightsaber.

He swallowed past the lump in his throat and went on, “Thrawn sent Pellaeon and some of the other bridge crew to the auxiliary bridge so that they weren’t in the same place. I know they were arguing about it – I think Pellaeon wanted to evacuate and Thrawn still thought he could win.”

“Zeb and Chop and I searched the bridge,” Sabine said.  “There wasn’t much of it left.  We had to get into the communications room computers.”

Ezra nodded. “Yeah.  I was with the death troopers – we ran into Pellaeon on his way down to the auxiliary bridge and stayed with him. The Vong took Thrawn, the rest of the bridge crew, others – there’s no accurate count on how many died and how many the Vong took captive.”  He resisted the urge to say that as far as he was concerned, the Vong were welcome to keep Thrawn; with his luck they’d team up and that was the last thing he wanted or needed.  “No one was in the auxiliary bridge when the bridge went; by the time we got there it was too late to pull the Chimaera up.  Pellaeon ordered the evacuation then; the Vong were already pulling out.  I guess they got what they wanted.  By then the Scylla had come back; Charybdis was still trading punches with the Vong out in space.”

He pulled his legs up and rested his chin on his knees.  He didn’t think he would ever forget the sight of the Chimaera crashing, which he had seen from one of the evacuating gunships.  The shock wave when the star destroyer had struck the ground had tossed the gunships around with toys; two of them had crashed into each other and exploded. Even the Scylla, making a reckless atmospheric approach in an attempt to save as many of the Chimaera’s crewmembers as it could, had been thrown aside.  Ezra never wanted to give Imperial any more credit than necessary, but the fact that Commander Kisujo had kept the Scylla from crashing was probably a minor miracle, especially given how much damage the cruiser had already sustained.

“Pellaeon went back afterwards to look for survivors,” Ezra said eventually. “There weren’t any. There were Vong hunting parties all over the place, though, seeding their blasted worldshaping plants.”

Hera stirred. “Those are the plants all over the Chimaera?  We thought the ship must have been there for years until we got into the computers.”

Ezra nodded. “This planet is already pretty close to what they like in a world –”  He gestured at the jungle that sat heavy and waiting all around them, “– but I guess they do it as a matter of course whenever they’re grounded for a while.  Change the chemical composition of the atmosphere, the groundwater, destroy anything that looks like technology, enslave the natives – I don’t think this place has any, though.”

“So what are you doing out here?” Zeb asked over his shoulder.

“Looking for the Vong,” Ezra said.  He rubbed his aching shoulder, where a Vong warrior had slammed him into a bulkhead on the Chimaera, and which had gotten further banged up when the shock wave from the Chimaera’s crash had tossed them his gunship around like confetti. Getting thrown into that tree hadn’t helped it either, nor did it help that it was the same shoulder he had been shot in six years ago.  “Pellaeon thought he’d send someone who actually had a chance at making it back. And who he didn’t mind losing,” he added sourly. “TIE patrols spotted the Vong camp out this way – or the one who made it back said so, anyway.  Pellaeon wants Thrawn back for some reason.  And the rest of the crew, I guess.  Even if they’re Imps they don’t deserve what the Vong will do to them.”

He fell silent, thinking about some of the holos he had seen of Vong-controlled planets the Chimaera had found.  He had only been allowed groundside on one of those occasions, when Thrawn had decided he wanted to see what a Force-user would make of it, and he’d wanted to claw his own skin off within minutes of touching down.

“This isn’t the invasion fleet,” he said eventually. “I don’t know where they are.  Thrawn thought it was some kind of advance scout fleet to figure out how hard the Vong would have to hit the Empire.”

Hera exchanged a look with Kanan over Ezra’s head.  Sabine and Zeb both swore, Sabine in Mando’a, Zeb in Lasat.

“What?” Ezra said. “What did I miss?  Uh, besides everything that happened in the last six years.  You can just give me the highlights.”

Sabine rested the piece of beskar on her knee and ticked them off on her fingers. “Tarkin’s dead, Vader’s dead, the Emperor’s dead, Alderaan got blown up, the Empire’s in pieces but Palpatine still tried to destroy it from beyond the grave, the New Republic’s being run by idiots.  Did I forget anything?  Oh, the Jedi are back but all they do is argue about doctrine.”

Kanan sighed. “That’s an oversimplification.”

“Wait – what?” Ezra said.

“Not everyone on the Provisional Council is an idiot,” Hera said.

“Wait, what?”  Ezra felt like he had just been hit with a very large brick. “Palpatine’s dead?” he said, focusing on that.

“Probably,” Zeb said. “Skywalker’s the only one who saw it happen.”

“Who’s – wait, like Anakin Skywalker?  But he’s –” He stopped abruptly, remembering what had happened on Malachor.

There was an awkward silence shared between Kanan and Hera; Zeb and Sabine just looked at each other and shrugged.  Sabine said, “If Palpatine was still around there wouldn’t be a dozen warlords – mostly former Imperials – running around trying to carve up the Empire between them.”

“Yeah, and maybe the Provisional Council would stop arguing with each other,” Zeb grumbled.

“The Jedi?” Ezra said a little wildly.

“Yeah, all three of them,” Zeb said.

“I’ll explain later,” Kanan said quickly. “It’s not quite as dramatic as it sounds.”

“Oh, I forgot to tell you about the Death Star,” Sabine said. “Mark one and mark two.”

“The what?”

“Let’s focus on our current situation, shall we?” Hera said quickly.

“Don’t even get me started on Mandalore.”

“I’ve always tried not to!”

“Hera went to another universe.”  Sabine considered. “And she has a baby.”

“What?”  Ezra almost fell off the tree root twisting around to look at Kanan and Hera.

Hera bit her lip. “Jacen’s not a baby, he’s six,” she said.  She looked at Kanan and smiled, soft and fond.  “He’s back on Ryloth with my father.”

“I need a drink,” Ezra muttered, then, louder, “Congratulations.  Wait, you, went to another universe?”

“Kanan too,” Sabine said. “Oh, Ahsoka’s back too, but that was a while ago.”

Ezra rubbed at his forehead. “Okay, can we catch me up later?”

“The relevant part is that neither the Imperial Remnant nor the New Republic is in any position to repel a full-scale invasion,” Hera said.  She sighed.  “The only reason the New Republic let us come out here – officially, I should say – is because there have been rumors about Thrawn for years.  If he’s in contact with anyone in the Remnant –”

Ezra shrugged. “Believe me when I say that I’m the last person Thrawn ever talked to.  About anything.”

“How much of the Seventh is left?” Kanan asked.

“The Scylla and the Charybdis are the only ships left, and they both got pretty beat up in that last fight with the Vong,” Ezra said, thinking back.  Pellaeon didn’t tell him much more than Thrawn did, but he had seen the makeshift command post in the Scylla before he’d left.   “Everyone’s taken pretty heavy losses since Lothal –”  He looked up suddenly, his heart in his throat. “Lothal –”

“Fine,” Sabine reassured him quickly. “Ryder’s governor again, everyone’s fine, Loth-cats as far as the eye can see.”

Ezra’s shoulders slumped in relief.  Eventually, he said, “At least ten thousand back at Chimaera Camp and on Scylla and Charybdis, but I don’t think they’ve got more than fifteen thousand left altogether.  I guess it depends how many the Vong took off the Chimaera.”

Kanan drew in his breath sharply.  Ezra couldn’t blame him; the Chimaera’s full muster was for forty thousand, but it hadn’t held that many people since well before the purrgil had reduced it substantially.  Most star destroyers, Pellaeon had remarked once, seldom held a full muster unless they were expecting to go into battle; in the normal course of things a star destroyer simply didn’t actually need nearly ten thousand stormtroopers who would do nothing but take up resources and start fights.

“That many troops plus the cruisers is enough to give any of the warlords a leg up on the others,” Sabine said practically. “Even without a star destroyer – or Thrawn, for that matter, I can’t see him letting Isard or Zsinj hold his leash.”  When Ezra frowned at her, she clarified, “Those are two of the warlords running around making trouble.  Isard used to run the ISB, Zsinj is just annoying.”

“He’s gotten a lot of people killed,” Zeb said harshly. “That’s more than ‘just annoying.’”

Sabine made a gesture of apology.  When Ezra looked uncertainly between them, Zeb explained, “Before I volunteered for this, I was with New Republic Special Forces – the Pathfinders, not the droppers. The droppers are all crazy.”

Ezra filed that away to ask about later.

Kanan and Hera shared one of those silent moments of communication that Ezra had been so familiar with half a decade earlier, then Hera said, “We’ve stayed here too long already. Ezra, were you on your way to or back from the Yuuzhan Vong encampment?”

“To.  I know about where it is.  And I can’t sense the Vong –”  He glanced at Kanan and saw the older man’s nod, acknowledging that it wasn’t any fault in Ezra’s command of the Force, “– but I can sense the captives they’ve got.  And what they’re doing to this planet.”

Kanan nodded again, his expression grim.

“Will you take us there?” Hera asked. “We’d better see this, and then we can decide what we’re going to do. Regardless, the New Republic has to know.”

Ezra nodded, a little puzzled at the odd tone in her voice, then realized abruptly what might be going through her head right now.  “I’m not one of them,” he said. “I didn’t switch sides.  It wasn’t all awful, but I spent most of the past six years in a cell except when Thrawn decided to haul me out in case having a Force-user around helped.  No one on the Chimaera ever forgot whose fault it was they were out there,” he added, gritting his teeth against the sudden quaver in his voice.  He touched a finger to the white streak in his hair; it was probably invisible in this poor light, but it was part of the reason he kept most of his hair cropped short these days.  “I got this the last time some of them decided I should pay for that and shot me in the head.  That was the fourth time someone tried.  Thrawn executed a hundred and thirty-seven people for it, including all the death trooper officers.”

He heard Zeb’s growl, low and furious, and the leather of Sabine’s gloves creak as she closed a fist.

“I’m not an Imperial,” Ezra said, fisting his own hands against his knees.  He had nightmares about that day sometimes, about getting dragged out of his cell and down to the starboard hangar bay; the death trooper commander, who had been in charge of the attempted lynching, had wanted as many crewmen as possible to see it.  Ezra had heard later that there had been a significant number of the conspirators who had wanted to execute Thrawn as well, blaming him for bringing Ezra onboard, getting them lost in the Unknown Regions, and attracting the attention of the Yuuzhan Vong.  As it was, Thrawn, Pellaeon, and most of the other senior officers who weren’t also in on the conspiracy had been locked in one of the conference rooms before they had managed to get out.  He had found out later that Thrawn had actually wanted to execute more of the conspirators, but had decided not to under the circumstances.  As a result Ezra had spent most of his time in the medbay worried that one of those who had escaped the executions would come after him to finish the job.

He looked at Kanan, knowing that he would be able to sense it even if he couldn’t see it, and added, “I’m still a Jedi.”

“I know,” Kanan said, reaching down to squeeze Ezra’s shoulder.

Ezra felt something tight inside him unknot.  He reached up to grasp Kanan’s fingers, feeling sick with relief.

“I believe you,” Hera said. She looked over his head to Kanan, who nodded in response. “I believe you,” she repeated.  “We’ll have a job of it convincing New Republic Intelligence, but let’s not borrow trouble before we have to.”

*

Before they left, Ezra found his sniper rifle and the sheared-off barrel.  He handed the barrel to Sabine so that she could inspect the severed edge, comparing it to the dead amphistaff, and broke down the rifle until it was in its heavy blaster pistol configuration.  He packed the rifle components away rather than leave them there; the machinists back at Chimaera Camp would either be able to repair them or use them for another purpose.  The pistol went on his belt in the holster he had brought in case he needed to use it in that configuration.

Sabine returned the barrel to him and regarded the amphistaff’s corpse thoughtfully.  Ezra had already tried and failed to get his vibroknife out of its neck, to his disgust.

“Can I take this with us or can they track it?”

“No idea,” Ezra said. “It’s never come up before.”

“Don’t take the risk,” Hera said.

Sabine sighed regretfully but admitted, “I’m guessing this isn’t the last time we’re going to run into these things.”

“The Vong are worse than grass ticks,” Ezra said, looking around until he found where he had dropped his night vision goggles.  When Zeb reached for them, Ezra shook his head and explained about the amphistaff poison, which had already eaten through the lenses and left a brown patch on the ground where the goggles had lain.  Ezra wouldn’t touch them again; he had seen too many people die from a drop of it on bare skin.  It ate through stormtrooper armor only a little more slowly than it did cloth.  At least five people from the Chimaera had had limbs amputated where they must have touched somewhere it had been, even if the venom itself was no longer visible.

“I’m really starting to dislike these things,” Zeb growled.

“You haven’t seen anything yet,” Ezra said.  He looked around until he saw the thud bug that the Vong warrior had thrown at him early in the fight, and found it lodged into the thick bark of one of the nearby trees, which must have prevented it from returning to the warrior the way most thud bugs did.  The fact that it hadn’t taken a chunk out of the tree impressed him, since he had seen them rip holes in durasteel plating a few times.  That must have been very hard wood.

He pointed the thud bug out to Zeb and Sabine; Kanan and Hera were talking quietly to each other a little ways away.  “We’ve been calling them thud bugs – they’re some kind of beetle; they can change their gravity somehow to hit incredibly hard.  The Vong throw them – razor bugs too.  That name’s probably self-explanatory.”

Sabine fingered a scratch on what remained of her armor.  She looked oddly unbalanced without the missing portion of her breast plate, which she had stowed in one of her hip-pouches. “Ran into a couple of those. Lightsaber goes through them,” she noted, glancing at Kanan.

“Does it go through the armor?” Ezra asked curiously, hoping the answer was yes.  He would feel better to know that something did.

She and Zeb both shook their heads. “Kanan’s real good at finding soft and tender places, though.”

Kanan turned his head at the sound of his name.  Ezra felt the flicker of his attention at the edge of his mind; he hadn’t been listening in on their conversation.  He was exquisitely aware of Kanan’s presence now that he knew the other man was there; if he had been paying more attention he might have realized when the Ghost arrived in-system.  As it was, he had had his mind focused on the area immediately around him, trying to make certain that the animals and plants of the planet would tell him the Yuuzhan Vong crept up on him.  He hadn’t flung his mind wide into the Force.  No one on the Chimaera was Force-sensitive; the Empire screened even the weakest Force-sensitives out of the service.

He might have been more concerned about the way his awareness of Kanan’s presence was blotting out his awareness of the rest of the Force, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Kanan was here.  All he wanted to do was creep over to Kanan’s side and bask in the sheer strength of his presence in the Force, like a Loth-cat in a patch of sunlight.

They left soon afterwards. Ezra took the lead with Zeb, wishing for the night vision goggles but knowing he didn’t need them.  Even before Malachor he had trained blindfolded with Kanan – which he still remembered vigorously protesting at the time – and afterwards he had worked twice as hard at it, even though he had never told Kanan as much.  He didn’t need his eyes when he had the Force, and with all his attention on the Force, the planet itself would tell him if the Vong were approaching, let alone Zeb’s sensitive ears and nose.  Zeb had confided to Ezra that this planet reminded him of Lasan before its fall – Lira San, he had said, was nice enough, but somewhere between too similar and not similar enough to be comfortable for long.  If Lira San was anything like, Ezra didn’t want to visit; he had already had enough of jungle planets and this was the only one he had been to.

He pushed his awareness of Kanan’s nearness to the back of his mind with a force of effort.  Six months ago he had woken up from a sound sleep, shocked and shaking and knowing that some essential truth of the universe had just changed.  Since it had happened he had touched that knowledge a hundred times a day, trying to work it out without having any way to do so.  He had spent long hours in meditation, reaching out into the Force and falling just short every time.  He had thought he might go mad with frustration.  Thrawn, who never missed anything, had certainly noticed, even if Ezra had refused to say what had caused his sudden discontent.  If Ezra had thought that there was any way he could get back to known space on his own, he might have made a break for it.  He had considered it – Thrawn had certainly made the point enough that as a Force-user Ezra should have been able to – but by the time he had nerved himself up for it the Vong had begun hunting them in deadly earnest.

Being back here with them felt odd.

Ezra had certainly dreamed about it enough times, and if he hadn’t been so aware of his bad shoulder he might have thought that he was back on the Chimaera, sound asleep.  He knew it was a danger, too; that his awareness of them ran the risk of distracting him at a crucial moment.  As much as he pushed his knowledge of their presence away, trying to keep his mind only on the simple facts rather than the emotions involved, he knew he was putting them all at risk.  He had to trust that between the five of them, they would be able to tell if Vong warriors searching for their missing patrol approached.

It took the better part of three hours before they reached the edge of the jungle.  Halfway through, Ezra and Kanan both sensed the passage of another Vong patrol – sensed the wildlife and plant life reacting to it, rather – but the warriors were far away and showed no sign of approaching them. Dawn was filtering through the forest canopy in a gray-green haze as they ghosted up to the edge of the tree line. Like the path Ezra had taken earlier, the jungle ended barely a meter short of the cliff-face, forming a kind of bowl around the valley below.  Ezra eased forward on his belly, pulling the riflescope out of his pack.  He could sense the passage of another Vong patrol on the rim of the cliff, but it wasn’t near enough to be concerned with unless they were here for a while.  He didn’t intend to stick around longer than he could help it.

The valley below boasted a kidney-shaped lake with large patches of some kind of plant life growing on the surface – Ezra reached out curiously with his mind and winced when he realized that they were Vong rather than native.  The jungle around it had been cut back to make space for what he thought were either structures or grounded ships, all of them looking out of place here – not quite the right color or texture, with shapes that were subtly off enough to make him wince.  He counted several dozen that looked like enormously oversized snail shells, a kind of orange-y green with a faint oily sheen to them. Something else, as large as a cruiser, he thought might be a grounded ship; its material was something like coral, or at least that was what it looked like through his riflescope.

Figures moved through the structures and ships – a few he recognized as Vong warriors, each of them unique in their vonduun crab armor; others were Vong from the different castes. He could sense humans down there, the prisoners taken off the Chimaera, but couldn’t spot them.

Sabine and Hera eased up on either side of him, Hera with a pair of macrobinoculars and Sabine with her rangefinder lowered.  Ezra didn’t have to turn his head to know that Zeb and Kanan were hanging back, keeping watch against a Vong patrol.

Keeping his voice barely more than a whisper, Ezra pointed out the grounded cruiser-analogue, then the coralskipper starfighters that passed by overhead before landing alongside the starship.  He hadn’t seen them in person before, just in holograms.

“Fast?” Hera asked him very quietly.

“About the same as a TIE, I think,” he murmured back. “They’ve got dovin basals – miniature black holes – like the cruisers, too, so it doesn’t really matter.”

“Hmm.”

He had to grin at the hint of considering challenge in that syllable.  If anyone could not only outfly a coralskipper solo but also shoot it down – the TIEs and handful of remaining TIE Defenders had to go after them in swarms – then it was Hera.

After a brief moment of hesitation, Ezra reached out with the Force, sorting through the thousands of human minds as he searched for the alien one.  He couldn’t sense the Vong and their living tools at all.

“Thrawn’s there,” he said after a moment, not bothering to conceal his disappointment the way he had done when Pellaeon had asked him to find out if the grand admiral was still alive. He was pretty sure Pellaeon had been able to tell his feelings anyway, but it was the principle of the thing; Pellaeon was fully capable of having him shot as more trouble than he was worth.

Sabine snorted softly. “Might have saved us some trouble if he was dead,” she grumbled.

“Tell me about it,” Ezra muttered back.  He peered through the riflescope again, letting the Force direct him.  The shell-structures seemed to be where the prisoners were being kept, Thrawn among them.  He couldn’t tell exactly which one Thrawn was in, but he supposed that when the Imperials went after him they would probably want to break all their missing troops out as well, since it would be about as much trouble.  Unless Pellaeon tried to make him do it on his own, of course, Ezra thought, and started to grimace at the thought before he realized abruptly that that was no longer an option Pellaeon had.

He was reaching back reflexively for Kanan before he even realized he was doing so, his mind brushing against Kanan’s in the Force for a brief instant of reassurance.  He felt Kanan’s response as if his master had gripped him briefly on the shoulder, calm and collected, though he knew Kanan hadn’t moved from his sentry position.  Ezra turned his face down, his eyes burning with unshed tears.

Sabine elbowed him gently. “Hey,” she whispered. “It’s all right.  We’ve got you.”

Six years ago Ezra might have said something like you took your time about it, but he just nodded.  If they could have come sooner they would have, and if they had come sooner, then Kanan – Kanan might not be back.  Six years in the Unknown Regions with Thrawn and his merry band of sociopaths was a sacrifice he was happy to make for Kanan’s return.

They watched the Vong camp for another two hours, watching the mist burn off the lake as the sun rose. Some of the lower caste Vong went into the shell-structures, probably to feed the Imperial prisoners; none of the Imperials came out.  Ezra did a rapid estimate with the Force and came up with somewhere between three and four thousand prisoners, which he supposed would make Pellaeon happy; the worst case scenario had been that all the crewmembers unaccounted for from the Chimaera were dead.  Hera didn’t look thrilled when he conveyed this information to her.

“Well, we’re not putting them all on the Ghost, that’s for sure,” Zeb grumbled; he was close enough to overhear.

All Hera said was, “I suppose we’ll have to talk to Captain Pellaeon.”

Not long after this exchange, Kanan said softly, “There’s a patrol about two klicks west of us.  We’d better clear off, if you’ve got all you need.”

“Not all we need, but all we’re going to get, I think,” Hera murmured.  The three of them retreated from the cliff face into the cover of the jungle.

Ezra got to his feet, wincing at muscles that had gone sore after two hours lying on the ground. Kanan was still sitting cross-legged on the forest floor, facing away from them with his eyes closed and his expression calm.  Ezra was barely aware of stepping towards him until he found himself reaching down to touch Kanan’s shoulder, wanting to reassure himself of Kanan’s presence. Kanan turned his face up towards him, opening his eyes, and smiled.  Ezra drew his hand back, embarrassed, then grabbed Kanan’s forearm to help pull him to his feet, the hard edges on Kanan’s bracer digging into his fingers.

Despite their precarious position, Ezra still rather wanted to drape himself on Kanan’s neck and weep.

Hera came up behind him and put a hand briefly on his shoulder. “Let’s get out of here before Chopper decides to take the Ghost and come find us,” she said.

Ezra nodded, then nearly had a heart attack as Zeb ghosted out of the jungle to join them; his purple fur and green bodysuit and armor blended in perfectly with the foliage.  If this was true of all the Lasat Ezra was definitely never going to Lira San.

They left silently, moving through the undergrowth with surprising delicacy for the size of their group.  Ezra, reaching out with the Force, found the passage of the same Vong patrol that Kanan had sensed.  If the disappearance of the patrol they had killed had been noted, it wasn’t evident from the way the Vong had acted.  Ezra would have thought that they would have had better security, but apparently not. Either that, or the Force had led them to avoid it on their approach.

The sun continued to rise steadily as they made their way single-file through the jungle.  Zeb took point this time, with Sabine just behind him. While Zeb blended into the forest around them, the sunlight through the tree canopy dappled Sabine’s armor as she moved through it; Ezra couldn’t decide what colors it was and suspected he wouldn’t know for sure until they were back at the Ghost.  Kanan and Hera brought up the rear, nearly soundless though Ezra was excruciatingly aware of Kanan’s presence.

After a sleepless night and a fight with the Vong, not to mention the intense emotion of the past few hours, he was so tired that he was nearly delirious with it.  Everything had taken on a slightly bright edge; he could have fought if he had to, but he was just as glad for the moment that neither the Vong nor the native wildlife crossed paths with them.  After almost a full day out here, he was also extremely aware of the fact that he had spent most of the past six years locked in a cell, with only occasional breaks to go nearly get killed, either by the Imperials or by whoever they happened to be fighting at the moment.  He was almost tired enough that the cell was starting to sound appealing.

 The day wore on, the heat and humidity growing steadily.  Ezra kept his weary eyes on Sabine’s gaudily painted jetpack in front of him; it wasn’t the same color that it had been six years earlier – he would have been shocked if it had been – but the basic winged design was more or less the same, though he could spot differences.  He was so focused on that to stay on his feet that he didn’t realize they had reached their destination until the flicker of movement behind transparisteel caught his eye.

Ezra stiffened, his hand going to his blaster.  It took him a few moments for his gaze to focus; he was expecting nothing more than the endless expanse of forest, not the Ghost parked in a clearing just barely large enough for the ship.  He stared blankly at the ship, unable to believe that it was actually here after so many years.

Kanan closed a hand on his shoulder as the ramp unfolded.  Chopper, apparently unchanged from the last time Ezra had seen him, appeared at the top of the ramp, waving one of his manipulators and shouting in annoyance about how they had gone for hours, they could have died, how dare they leave him all alone.  He stopped midway through his tirade, apparently having spotted Ezra.

Kanan pushed Ezra forward gently.  Hera was walking past him, her own shoulders slumping with weariness; Sabine paused to turn on one foot, her gaze traveling over the clearing.  Zeb was already on his way up the ramp with a comment to Chopper.

Ezra took one step forward, then another one.  Chopper came down the ramp towards him as he reached it, chirping a cautious question.

“Yeah,” Ezra said. “Yeah, it’s me.”

He started to kneel down so that they were on the same level, then overbalanced and sat down hard instead.  Chopper rolled up to him, close enough to touch but not doing so.  Ezra reached out, hesitating for an instant before he laid his hands on Chopper’s chassis.  The metal was warm to touch, the pain smooth beneath his fingers except where it was starting to chip away.  He could feel the hum of the droid’s inner workings against his palms.

“Yeah, Chop,” he said again, and started to cry, his head bent forward against Chopper’s dome so that none of the others could see. “It’s me.  It’s me.”

[bedlamsbard]

I got a couple of different asks about Luke and Ahsoka in other side AU 10, so I guess I will just make it a regular post after all so I can answer all of them at once.

@slecnaztemnot: 

Okay i just read your latest other side chapter and I wanted to ask about Ahsoka and Luke dynamics. I wonder what exactly where their heretics disagreemts about the jedi doctrine? while i can guess some of the stuff like attachements i guess i mostly see ahsoka as nonjedi and therefore someone who should not be attached to doctrine about attachements (haha) so i am wondering how you see her. i would actually love your take on how their first meetings went. continued in next ask, 1/2

1/2 continuation since most people write them as Ashoka immediately spilling the beans about the whole Vader situation to Luke and yours Ahsoka didn't. So I am curious what do you think Ahsoka feels about it. I got of course lot of it from the fic itself so i am mostly asking about how did you base your interpretation, if that makes sense and what led you to the narrative choices to portray their relationship in such way.

@comentter:

I'm most interested in what Luke and Ahsoka know about each other. Luke doesn't know much about Ahsoka obviously, but does he have any idea why she seems to hate him? He must be desperate lol. And how much does Ahsoka know about what happened on the DS2? And how much does Kanan know about these events? What was Hera able to tell him and what else did Luke and Ahsoka tell him? I always figure that everyone but Luke and a few people he told (like Leia) think the Emperor and Vader from the DS2 explosion.

I now have this image in my head of Ahsoka spending time with Rex and her laughing as Rex does something like tell a joke or a specific gesture. Then Luke walks by, does the exact same thing and Ahsoka is like "Of course, you'd do this stupid thing, you idiot!" :D

I think shortly before I started writing this sequence I had seen some cute art of Luke and Ahsoka hugging, which is a pretty common art trope and which has never sat quite right with me.  I also have the tendency to want to do the opposite of common fanon, which I can’t leave out either.  I also wanted to logic out what the hell was going on with Ahsoka’s charaterization in her Mando episode on a Watsonian level rather than a Doylist one (which I did a few weeks ago), even if other side takes place well before Mando and doesn’t intersect with it in any meaningful way.

When it came to the Luke and Ahsoka relationship (or lack thereof), it came down to three questions for me:

Who knows what?

What do they know?

When do they know it?

I made the decision early on in the chapter to leave Leia out of this relationship entirely, since the new canon seems to at this point in time (within a year of RotJ) be keeping it relatively quiet that she and Luke are siblings, and it’s not something that Hera would have a reason to know.  (Note also that this entire sequence is told from Hera’s POV, which plays into the “who knows what when” angle.)

As per Rebels S4 (not the epilogue, because Mando’s thrown that out the window), Ahsoka knows (or has good reason to believe) the following:

Anakin Skywalker is Darth Vader, Sith Lord

Darth Vader was directly or indirectly responsible for the genocide of the Jedi Order and the deaths of any Jedi who survived the Purge (”you and your Inquisitors saw to that”)

Padme Amidala is dead

Obi-Wan Kenobi is dead (Obi-Wan was not dead, but she has no way to know this)

no Darksider can return to the Light side

At the end of RotJ (not taking into account anything that happened in the comics or ancillary novels, which I’m not up to date on), Luke knows (or has good reason to believe) the following:

Darth Vader is Anakin Skywalker

everyone Anakin ever knew is dead, mostly because of him

Vader returned to being Anakin Skywalker at the end of his life

(Leia presumably also knows all of this, perhaps with a few more details based on things her parents might have told her, but her feelings about Darth Vader are: Bad, Do Not Want, to be glib about it.)

Now, there’s one other factor here, which is Rex.  Rex knew Anakin and knew Ahsoka and was in the Rebel Alliance -- we know that he was on Yavin IV prior to Luke’s arrival and we know that he fought in the Battle of Endor. (And turns up in a couple of scattered art panels from the comics.)  If we want to take his brief appearance in Galaxy of Adventures with Han Solo’s strike force as canon, then he may have also known Han and probably Luke -- certainly his ears would have pricked up at the name “Skywalker.”  (Okay, there’s one other factor, which is R2-D2, but Artoo never tells anyone anything despite knowing...everything. Or most things, anyway.)  Rex doesn’t seem to know that Anakin became Darth Vader (I believe there’s an interview somewhere where Dave or Pablo or someone says that a meeting between Rex and Vader would be “awkward,” but there’s no canonical reason to believe that he knew about the Anakin/Vader connection), but he probably found out at some point that the 501st was the battalion involved in the assault on the Jedi Temple.  He also, as of Rebels S3-4, assumes that Vader killed Ahsoka -- presumably Ezra would have told him as much as he could.  (And Ezra does know that Vader is Anakin, so he may have told Rex that as well.)  Rex also knows that Anakin Skywalker was having an affair with Padme Amidala, but presumably didn’t know about (a) the marriage or (b) the pregnancy, because how would he know?

Then we come to Ahsoka’s return and unfortunately the current canon gives us no time point for when it actually happened: presumably Ahsoka did not or could not return to the greater galaxy at the point she “left”, during the fight on Malachor (3 BBY), because as of Rebels S3-4 everyone still believes she’s dead.  Maybe she’s still stuck on Malachor without a way to get off, who knows; maybe after S4 Ezra grabbed her into the World Between Worlds she decided to stay on Malachor until she ~caught up with the main timeline, which...you then have to believe that Ahsoka is going to deliberately remove herself from the war, which I can get to, but is not something I’m totally comfortable with.  Or she pops out in the timeline at the same time that Ezra returns to the main timeline and is able to more or less immediately return to the main timeline narrative, plus or minus a few weeks.  (There are, after all, still a couple of Advanced TIE fighters parked in the Sith temple, even if they were potentially damaged in the temple collapse.  Ahsoka could have repaired them or used the comms systems to call for a pick-up -- this is, btw, what happens in Crown.)  We don’t know when the S2 finale scene/S4 WBW scene of Ahsoka walking back into the temple actually takes place in the timeline; it doesn’t have to be at the exact same time as the rest of the S2 finale sequence (since obvs Vader dragging himself out, Maul flying off, and the Rebels crew looking sad doesn’t all take place at the exact same time).

Other side AU is deliberately vague about when Ahsoka returns from the World Between Worlds/Malachor/to the Rebel Alliance; it’s not stated in the story, but I made the assumption that she came back shortly after the (non-epilogue) end of the Rebels finale, but was still deeply messed up from her Malachor revelations.  (Also, like, Sidious, I guess, but she was probably so messed up about Anakin/Vader that Sidious being around barely registered.)  Since she never seems to have held a formal position in the Rebel Alliance, I assumed that after she returned and let everyone know she was still alive, she then immediately took off to try and figure out what the hell happened with Anakin at the end of the Clone Wars, since she saw him like a week before he snapped and at the time he seemed fine.

The problem is that almost everyone involved is dead.

Now, at this point (shortly before Scarif and ANH), a few people are still alive who then die shortly, but whom Ahsoka may have no reason to believe were involved.  Bail Organa, for example, is still around, but aside from him being Padme’s friend Ahsoka doesn’t have a reason to know that Bail was there when Padme died -- and since they were in contact for the nineteen years preceding there’s no reason for her to assume now that he was keeping something for her.  Back in the comics (before I stopped reading them), Vader did some digging to figure out what was going on with Padme and his child; Ahsoka probably would have done the same digging (without having to torture anyone), but without necessarily knowing that Padme was pregnant.  Knowing the date of Padme’s death (same as the Republic, essentially), she may have had a previous assumption that Padme was assassinated on Palpatine’s orders, but knowing that Vader is Anakin probably moves that assumption closer to the truth, that Anakin was somehow involved in Padme’s death one way or another.  Sooner or later Ahsoka will turn up the fact that Padme was pregnant, come to the obvious conclusion that Anakin was the father, and possibly find out the same thing that Vader does in the comics -- that the child was born before Padme died.  (But also probably not that Padme was carrying twins, but even if she found that out, it wouldn’t make a difference.)

While Ahsoka is doing her digging (and there really isn’t much information out there to find), the events of Rogue One and ANH happen, and Ahsoka comes back to the Rebel Alliance to find out which of her friends are still alive.  (Maybe Rex is with her at this point, who knows.)

Everyone in the Rebel Alliance is talking about some young hotshot named Luke Skywalker.

Luke Skywalker who has a very familiar lightsaber, who claims his father was Anakin Skywalker, and who had some kind of relationship with Obi-Wan Kenobi, who turned up on the Death Star, fought Darth Vader, and died.

Ahsoka has just spent the past few months trying to figure out what happened with Anakin, and as best she can reassemble the facts it mostly comes down to “Anakin did something dumb for Padme, that something dumb was ‘turn to the Dark Side and kill literally everyone,’ and then Padme died, the Republic was overturned, and the Jedi Order was wiped out.”  Ahsoka presumably walks into a room, hears the name Luke Skywalker -- maybe sees him -- and is all at once face to face with the living evidence of just how badly Anakin fucked up.

This is just too much for Ahsoka to deal with at the moment, so she takes off again, and spends the next five years brushing in and out of the Rebel Alliance doing odd missions that can really only be done by a trained Force-user.  Rex, who seems to have a more stable position in the Alliance, is always going to side with Ahsoka over anyone else; if she tells him not to tell Luke that she knew Anakin, he won’t.  (And for that matter, he may have somewhat fraught feelings about Luke himself.)  She may have the odd interaction with Luke -- who has heard that there’s another Jedi in the Alliance and wants to be friends/get real training -- but Ahsoka just does not want any part of this. It’s irrational! She knows it’s irrational! But this is the living evidence of Anakin’s failure, Anakin who last she saw him TRIED TO KILL HER, who was at least partially responsible for the deaths of everyone she ever knew.  (And honestly, finding out that Vader topped it all off by killing Obi-Wan is not going to help.)

Ahsoka may also be feeling a certain amount of survivor’s guilt: if Ezra had not pulled her out of the Malachor temple at that exact moment, she came pretty close to bringing the temple down on both herself and Vader, and may have succeeded in killing him.  She did not do so, and who knows how many people died because of that in the years between Malachor and Yavin?  (Just because Tarkin was the one who gave the order doesn’t mean that Ahsoka may at least partially blame Alderaan’s destruction on Vader, if she knew he was on the Death Star then.) She knows he killed Obi-Wan.

The Yoda lineage is very good at going “yikes, I am going off to live alone and beat myself up over my failure for years” and Ahsoka is very much an example of that lineage.

She and Luke have a relationship of “Hi, I’m Luke Skywalker, do you want to talk?” and “I have to leave immediately,” maybe with the odd “please stop using that lightsaber grip it is physically painful for me to watch, do it like this instead, okay, bye.”  Luke probably told all of two other people about what happened with Vader on the Death Star, Leia and Han; he has no reason to tell anyone else about it because it won’t matter to them.  Why would he tell Ahsoka, whom he has no relationship with?  He doesn’t know that Ahsoka knew Anakin Skywalker and would only know if one of four people told him: Ahsoka herself (no), Rex (no), R2-D2 (maybe), or Admiral Ackbar (would never have occurred to Luke to ask, might have occurred to Ackbar to say).  (We also don’t know that Mon Mothma knew Ahsoka very well, or at all, for that matter; they never interacted in TCW.)

As for her swinging harder into overt Jedi-ness by Mando after her blatant “I am no Jedi” of Rebels, it reads to me as a response to the Anakin/Vader revelation (especially the attachment thing).  She had made certain assumptions in the TCW period (see her saving Rex in the TCW finale) and prior to Rebels; Kanan’s method of Jediness was something she could accept in the time period and in those circumstances; the Anakin/Vader revelation shattered all of that, followed immediately as it was by Kanan apparently going full Jedi self-sacrifice despite his attachments.  (Her reaction to Ezra being a trauma response about two very different circumstances.)  All of a sudden what she thought might have been mutable based on the circumstances became something that had to be adhered to in case of dangerous results, which she had just had brought home to her in extremely bad circumstances.

I made a crack somewhere about Mando’s central tension being between “being Mandalorian” and “being doing Mandalorianness”; I think in the post-OT period with Ahsoka and Luke we’re seeing something similar with “being Jedi” and “being doing Jediness.”  Even if Ahsoka isn’t actively claiming the title Jedi anymore (because what does that accomplish in most contexts?), she’s leaning far more into the tenets of the Jedi Order -- which Luke doesn’t know and doesn’t know he doesn’t know.

Thus the doctrinal dispute.

Ahsoka grew up in the Jedi Order.  That’s what she knows, that’s how she knows how to be a Jedi; for her being a Jedi is being part of the Jedi Order, whether or not the actions associated with performing Jediness are being actively practiced.  Luke doesn’t have that context.  For Luke, being a Jedi is...being doing Jediness.  (This is super awkward phrasing.)  Performing the actions of a Jedi.  Luke has a few holocrons, but I’m guessing that a lot of what is on those holocrons makes the assumption that whoever is opening with them has the context of being a part of the Jedi Order and doesn’t explain really basic stuff about the Order or what that means.  Luke’s Jedi Order is not going to be the Republic Jedi Order made anew; it’s going to be something that has a resemblance to it and is based on a similar view of the Force, even arguably its heir, but is just not going to be the same thing.  It can’t be.  Luke doesn’t know what he doesn’t know.

Kanan, of course, is coming into all of this from a similar context as Ahsoka: he grew up in the Jedi Order, it’s what he knows, it’s who he is.  Except Kanan never walked away from the Order, so while Ahsoka had been disconnected from her Jediness at the time of the Purge, he never lost his -- part of Ahsoka’s tension from TCW S7-Rebels was “I can’t be a Jedi because the Order is gone” and Kanan’s was “can I be a Jedi without the Jedi Order?”  (Ezra is a whole ‘nother thing but is somewhat outside the scope of this.)  The Jedi Order never factors in Luke’s Jediness at all.  (There’s some lineage doctrinal dispute here as well -- the Yoda lineage seems to be very closely connected to the Order as the font of Jediness, the Windu-Billaba lineage somewhat less so.  The Yoda lineage is like...the hardcore conservatives of the Jedi Order, though, and are probably not typical.)

Poor Kanan came back from the dead, after a week in another universe (which had its own problems; he’s been trying to very gently convince his counterpart that even after being an Inquisitor for months he can still be a Jedi), into Luke trying to build a new Jedi Order from scratch, Ahsoka firmly believing it couldn’t and shouldn’t be done and not wanting to be in the same room as Luke at all (not to mention that she really did not believe that they should have gone for “hey, let’s send Hera Syndulla to another universe” as even being an option), and both of them having essentially incompatible notions of being a Jedi at each other -- this is probably the most time Luke and Ahsoka ever spent in each other’s presence.  They’ve probably never articulated their problems at each other, just assumed that the other knew them.  And Kanan has his own “how to be a Jedi” approach, which is from a very different than either Ahsoka or Luke because despite originating from the same context as Ahsoka, he had a very different path to get to his present position.

As for what Kanan knows -- uh, pretty much only what Hera knew, and Hera knew very little?  She was friendly with Luke and Leia, but didn’t have much interaction with them -- she states that she had a tendency to avoid Luke because even if she would never say it to Luke’s face, she silently believes that if any Jedi should have been in the Rebel Alliance, it should have been Kanan and Ezra and not this relative newcomer.  If the Death Star 2 news about Vader and Palps was never common knowledge, then Hera wouldn’t have known it.  Kanan’s in a position of having to play catch-up, but also having a completely different priority (finding Ezra).  He sat through this meeting where after they’d finished grilling him on “you were in ANOTHER UNIVERSE and also you CAME BACK FROM THE DEAD?” they politely sniped at each other with a bunch of context he didn’t have and flat out decided that wow, he did not want to deal with this at all, whatsoever.

(This is also not stated in the story, but Luke and Ahsoka also disagreed about whether Jacen should be trained or not: Luke said, yeah, of course, when he’s a little older! and Ahsoka said nope, he’ll be fine, it will go away. Hera was just very “...I will deal with this later” about it since it wasn’t an urgent issue.)