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jedimordsith · 4 years

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You mentioned that you've come to have more empathy for Yoday but still wouldn't recommend him as a direct master for anyone. What were/are your biggest issues with him? There are several I could guess, and probably some I agree with, but I don't want to assume.

Ahahahaha. I’m in a ranty mood this week, so it’s a great time to tackle this ask! Here’s more than anyone ever wanted to know about my Yoda Feels.

My problems with Yoda come down to a couple things.

We have entirely different learning/teaching styles.

I have zero tolerance for cryptic shavit when there’s *actual communication* that needs to happen.

A lot of Yoda’s behaviors make sense when viewed in the context of the PT but I formed most of my opinions based on the OT before the PT was a Thing.

I don’t agree with the approach Yoda took in swanning off to Dagobah post RotS. AT ALL.

Different Learning/Teaching Styles

(In ESB) Yoda very much follows the Greek and Buddhist styles of teaching where masters ask questions that don’t necessarily have solid answers. This is a valid style and something @atamascolily consistently captures gorgeously in her fics. It also absolutely makes me want to stab people.

I’m like Mara Jade: a task-oriented learner. I want to know what I’m supposed to learning/mastering, why, how I’ll demonstrate success, and what the checkpoints are along the way. Meandering philosophical debates as part of an ill-defined training process are maddening. As noted, as I get older I am more accepting of this as a legit style and just not for me; this makes Yoda more sympathetic as a character but not any less annoying.

Also, when Luke asks honest and reasonable questions in ESB (like “why”) Yoda shuts him down flat and I’m extremely not okay with that. Luke is being genuine and respectful despite his own frustrations and as someone who is committing his life to the Jedi path he has both a right and a need to know things. Demanding blind faith when there are or should be reasonable answers of some kind is Not Okay.

Just Communicate Dammit!

With Ben Kenobi and Bail Organa gone, Yoda was the only person around holding a lot of key information. Did he share that information? Nope. He wandered around being a cryptic little troll “because Luke wasn’t ready” despite knowing full well that his health was failing. He gave Luke none of the information he actually needed to make informed decisions and didn’t even freaking write anything down!!

From a Doylist perspective, this is obviously largely because George Lucas et al hadn’t figured out any of the backstory yet. From a Watsonian perspective, this is unforgivable.

If your time is short (as his time with Luke was destined to be no matter how things went), it is critically important to be clear and use your time well. Yoda just didn’t.

Obnoxious Troll vs Grandpa Frog

The PT very much sets Yoda up as Grandpa Frog, a beloved grandfather figure who teaches the younglings regularly and who everyone understands as mischievous but loving. Viewed in that sense, a lot of how he treats Luke in ESB makes sense… but it doesn’t make it okay.

The younglings at the Temple literally grew up around the Force and Yoda. Luke did not. Luke didn’t even know WTF the Force was until he was almost 20. He got like 24 hours of introduction to it before Ben died. Compliments of Palpatine and the Purge and the war, there is almost no information available to him between ANH and ESB except what he figures out himself. Yet Yoda treats him like a disappointment and a failure for not understanding the scope of the Force and having doubts about its power.

Guess what? If Luke had grown up in the Temple, yeah, he’d be all about raising X-wings out of swamps. But he didn’t. He grew on repressed for his own safety on a farm in the middle of nowhere without a hint of a clue.

Now, through the lens of the PT, I can see Luke being a frustrating student for Yoda. He’s used to getting younglings who have been exposed to and trained in the Force by a range of other Jedi. Starting with an older student suffering from a ton of trauma and without any of the basics that he has to train in less than a fraction of the time shaping a Jedi would normally take is a massive undertaking and he’s old and tired besides. The whole family history with Vader wouldn’t make it any easier.

But you know what? Luke is young. He left his found family in the middle of a war and is undergoing hugely stressful training in the middle of a swamp so that he can shoulder even bigger burdens. Yoda has had 20 years of (mostly) downtime to deal with his own trauma and at least several hundred years of practice being a teacher and a leader. He’s the one in a position to improve things and accommodate and he doesn’t. I’m not okay with that.

Let’s Talk About That Downtime BTW

Again, from a Doylist perspective, I get why Yoda was hanging out on Dagobah, why he used things like visions to communicate with people like Kanan, Ezra, etc. periodically, and why he was Luke’s mentor in ESB/RotJ.

From a Watsonian view, though, I’m not freaking impressed. He was the Grandmaster. He was heartbroken over the Jedi and Padawans he couldn’t save. But what did he do for the remaining ones spread across the galaxy? Shavit, that’s what. Kanan, Cal Kestis, Feris Olan, all the Jedi/Padawans who got kidnapped and twisted into Inquisitors — they were on their freaking own while Yoda swanned off to Dagobah.

Oh, sure, he’d pop up in a vision here or there or whatever, but he had a safe place. And, apparently, the ability to reach at least some of them some of the time (see: visions and his connections to people like Bail Organa). Do I think any of those people probably wanted to live on Dagobah? Not particularly. But I think they’d have appreciated the safety and the chance to reconnect with what remained of their Jedi family, even if only briefly.

But no. Yoda hangs out, waiting for the day the twins are old enough to take on the responsibility to kill Vader/Palpatine and then… does nothing?! He just keeps hanging out even after both Luke and Leia have lost everything, lets them get all settled into the Rebellion without a word, and THEN has the nerve to be cranky and disgruntled when he actually does get one of them to train!!

YOU MADE CHOICES YOU LITTLE FROG TROLL. DON’T TAKE THEM OUT ON THE PEOPLE YOU DENIED CHOICES FOR 20 YEARS.

I’m Not Entirely Without Compassion, I Swear

*sigh* I have seen a lot of Yoda meta in recent years that makes me appreciate Yoda for what he was during the PT. He really *was* everybody’s loving Grandpa who worked for centuries to love on the Jedi, protect them, and take care of them well. He legit wanted all of them to be happy and safe… and his suffering when the Purge happened must have been unimaginable. Like Luke and Leia, he lost everything.

Unlike the twins, he didn’t get to rebuild or find a new family. While I believe what we have in the EU suggests he found peace and solace and a new home of Dagobah that was genuinely soothing to his wounded soul, he was alone and (whether he was or not) he did feel mostly helpless to do anything for his few scattered Jedi grandchildren who remained and suffered across the galaxy. He did face decisions in which there *weren’t* good, clear-cut answers.

I think if I’d met him first in the PT or meta I might have liked him better. But I still wouldn’t ever recc him as a Master for any character I like because I can’t imagine learning under him being an experience I would ever wish on anyone simply based on my own vehement loathing for his personal teaching style. I know there are people in the world who would thrive on that approach and I like to think I’ve got a good imagination, but I simply can’t conceptualize it as a positive, productive experience.

*As an end note, if you DO like Yoda or want to like him better please go read @atamascolily‘s fics, seriously. You’ll love them!

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prepare4trouble · 7 years

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a member/ a few members of the Ghost crew crash on a distant planet and don't get rescued for years. They worry about how the war with the Empire has gone, and if the rest of their family think they're dead... No pressure!

A huge thank you to @pomrania for braving the feels to beta this for me :-)

Day 1

“Karabast!”

Ezra’s frustrated curse broke the silence that had filled the Phantom, and Kanan felt a burst of anger through the Force at the exact same moment that he sensed Ezra drew back a fist and thrust it forward toward the wall.

“Ezra,” Kanan said, warningly.

Whether it was Kanan’s warning or his own self-preservation instinct, Ezra stopped himself inches before he impacted the side of the storage unit. That was good, they had medical supplies and a limited amount of bacta, but a broken hand would be difficult to deal with under the circumstances.

“Sorry,” Ezra said. He still sounded angry, but suitably embarrassed about the outburst. “It’s just, the circuits are fried, and I could fix it, but…”

Kanan braced himself. He knew exactly what Ezra was going to say.

“All the spare parts are gone; someone’s moved them. And all the tools, anything that’d be even halfway useful for spaceship maintenance anyway. Unless they’ve put them someplace else on the ship, we’re stuck here.”

He had known that was coming. He had already known the finer details of their predicament; he had helped to orchestrate it. Still, hearing that was harder than he had expected, hearing Ezra’s reaction to it was harder still.

“Well, stuck for a few days at least. Until Hera organizes a rescue party.” Ezra added. “I’ll check in back. Maybe they moved things around or something. How’s the comms unit looking?”

Kanan briefly turned his attention to the comms unit on the control panel in front of the copilot’s seat. Knowing exactly what was going to happen, he activated it and heard nothing, not even static.

“Right,” Ezra said, sounding even more dejected. “Figures. Okay, We’ll have to check the rest of the ship for something that’ll help, then look through the cargo. I know it’s mostly food and medical supplies, but I didn’t see the whole manifest. Maybe there’s something useful in there.”

There wasn’t. Not useful for ship repairs anyway. Kanan knew that Ezra was going to look regardless, but he needed him to do that later. The longer he left it before telling him the truth, the worse it was going to be. He sighed. “Ezra,” he began.

Ezra was already working on opening storage units and checking the inside of every access panel for spares that might have been left there by accident on a previous repair.

“We were expected to be gone a couple of days,” Ezra said. “Hera won’t even be looking for us yet. And what about the mission to Jedha? The people there will be relying on these supplies.”

“Ezra,” Kanan said again. “There was no mission to Jedha.”

He could sense Ezra’s understandable confusion. “What are you talking about? The supplies…”

“Are for us,” Kanan finished for him.

That got his attention. Ezra stopped what he was doing and turned to face Kanan. Kanan imagined him staring, searching his expression for a sign of what he meant.

“Sit down,” Kanan told him. He indicated the other seat with a wave of his hand. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

Day 2

Ezra was angry. He could feel the dark side of the Force nipping at him, whispering tempting ideas into his mind. He ignored it, suppressed it, pushed it down as deep as he could manage. Instead, he took a deep breath, adjusted his position on the ground, and tried to concentrate on his meditation. Losing himself wasn’t going to help anything, not when he was already lost in another way.

Still, the fury remained. Kanan had betrayed him. Hera had betrayed him. And maybe they had done it for the best of reasons, but the least they could have done was discussed it with him beforehand.

“You would never have agreed,” Kanan had told him, when he had said just that.

He had shaken his head angrily at that. “Of course I wouldn’t have agreed. Why did you?!”

They still should have told him. Even if it meant they would have had to drag him kicking and screaming onto the ship, they shouldn’t have lied to him. They shouldn’t have sent him off on a mission in a ship that they knew kriffing well was going to stop working when they reached a certain point, drop out of hyperspace and crash them who-knew-where. A ship that Hera had rigged to do just that.

He had a right to be angry. Even Kanan had said so. Although he had cautioned him to be careful.

He had known something was strange when the Phantom had lost power. The way it had veered toward the planet before the engines had cut out entirely, the way the electronics hadn’t gone until they were well inside the orbit, none of it had felt right.

He wondered whether Hera had received his distress call as they went down. He wondered what she would have thought if she had.

Kanan told him they had received intel that the Empire was coming for them. Not for the Rebellion, not for Yavin 4, not even specifically for the Ghost, although all of those things were a real and ever-present threat. The Empire was coming for the Jedi. For him and Kanan. One last push to remove the last of the Force users that they didn’t control from the galaxy.

It didn’t make any sense to hide them away. The Empire would be coming regardless. True, they might plan to take out the biggest threat first, and then come for the others, but surely without the two of them there, it would only mean that the Empire would come for the rest of the Rebellion sooner. And there would be no Jedi there to help with the fight.

“We’re a weapon,” Kanan had told him. “If they think we’re dead, they won’t be expecting us, and Hera can return for us either when we’re most needed, or when the Empire is defeated and we’re free to live our lives.”

In other words, they had been placed into storage, like a valuable tool that the Rebellion didn’t want to lose in case they needed it later. Well, he wasn’t a weapon, he was a person, and he was angry.

What made matters worse — but at the same time a little better — was that Sabine, Zeb and Chopper had no idea. On the one hand, it meant that they hadn’t been in on it; they hadn’t lied to him. On the other, it meant that when Ezra and Kanan didn’t return from their mission, they were going to be told the official line.

The Phantom went down, the Jedi are dead.

Everybody was going to be told that. Not only Sabine and Zeb, but his friends in the Rebellion: Hobbie, Wedge and the other pilots. The Resistance movement on Lothal: Ryder Azadi and the rest of his cell. The only people who knew the truth were Hera, and Senator Organa.

And what if something happened to them? Then where would that leave Ezra and Kanan?

Stupid question. It would leave them exactly where they were right now, stranded on some unknown planet, alone, for the rest of their lives.

Day 4

“They’re going to have heard by now, aren’t they?” Ezra said.

Kanan almost flinched at the unexpected words. It was the first thing that Ezra had said to him in days. He knew exactly what he meant; Sabine and Zeb, Hera would have had to have told them something by now. He nodded. “They might. It depends how Hera decides to handle things.”

He hoped they knew — or thought they knew — what had happened, but it was going to be difficult for Hera to handle that part, and although they had discussed it, it hadn’t been possible to come up with a coherent plan before they needed to leave. There would be no bodies, no evidence of the crash, nothing that they would be able to show to anybody to support the idea that the two Jedi had died. After just a few days, Sabine and Zeb wouldn’t just give up and accept it.

If their positions were reversed, Kanan would never stop searching; he would never stop believing that there was a chance. Neither would Hera, not if this had been real. If after a few days she were to simply shrug and tell people that Kanan and Ezra were probably dead, it would seem wrong. It would seem exactly like the lie that it was, and nobody would believe it. Rumors would start to circulate, and there was a good chance that somebody would guess the truth.

On the other hand, he couldn’t expect her to keep pretending, to continue to search, knowing all the time that she wasn’t going to find them, knowing exactly where they were. He couldn’t expect her to keep up that act, to lie to Sabine and Zeb, and even to Chopper, over and over again. Because every time she acted as though she believed that the next planet would reveal something, she would be lying to them, and every time it would become more difficult.

“Do you think maybe she decided to tell them the truth?” Ezra said.

It wasn’t impossible, it would certainly make things easier in one way. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “The more people that know, the more dangerous it is.” That was how the Rebellion was run, nobody knew everything, and the more valuable the information the fewer people were privy to it.

“I just hate to think of them thinking…” Ezra broke off without finishing.

Kanan nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “I know. Me too.”

“Yeah, well,” Ezra said, and Kanan could hear the snarl in his voice, “Maybe you should have thought about that before you agreed to this stupid plan.”

Day 7

If Ezra had been involved in the planning of this stupid idea, he would have — well, for a start he would have told them how stupid it was, and refused to have anything to do with it — but if it really had been unavoidable, he would have made sure they had a functional comms unit. Even if they didn’t use it, it would have been good to know that they could. It would have helped with the feeling of complete isolation.

It might also help if he could bring himself to speak to Kanan again. But that was going to take a while longer.

Day 10

Kanan had known this was going to be difficult, he just hadn’t realized how difficult it was going to be. He had anticipated Ezra’s reaction; he felt angry and betrayed, and Kanan didn’t blame him at all. Of course, Ezra didn’t understand the level of the threat. He didn’t understand how afraid Hera had been when she had made the suggestion. He didn’t realize that although they had lost part of their family temporarily, the alternative would have been so much worse.

And Kanan, he hadn’t understood how hard it would be to be away for so long. Once, he had believed that it would be impossible to survive without seeing Hera again, and he had been forced to learn that wasn’t true. In time, he would learn the same about this. But he ached to talk to her again; to hold her, to have her tell him everything was going to be okay, and to promise her the same.

He was very glad they had sabotaged the comms unit too, or it would have been very difficult not to give in to the urge to break radio silence.

Day 16

“Did you actually choose this planet?” Ezra asked over a dinner of ration bars one evening.

Kanan shook his head. “Not me.”

Hera then. “Do you even know where we are?”

Another shake of his head. “It’s not important. I know it’s uninhabited and there’s nothing here that should attract the attention of the Empire. The place is heavily forested, and wood isn’t a resource the Empire has much need for, but the trees would delay any construction making it unattractive for them.”

“It’s definitely unattractive,” Ezra agreed.

Kanan frowned, obviously not understanding. “There’s nothing here worth mining, and it’s been left alone so far. There are plenty of sources of fresh water, and the plants are mostly edible.”

Ezra eyed the crates of food he had believed were destined to feed the people of Jedha. They weren’t going to need the plants to be edible. Not unless… “Kanan?” he asked. “How long is Hera planning on leaving us here for?”

Day 23

“You probably don’t know this,” Ezra said one morning.

They were gathering the edible berries that grew on the vines that wrapped several of the trees not far from the crash site.

“I mean, you almost definitely don’t know this, but these berries do not look appetizing.”

Kanan hadn’t even thought about it. The vines were mercifully free of thorns, and he ran his hand over the surface until he located one of the fruits, squeezed it lightly to test its readiness, then plucked it and dropped it into the bag.

“They’re yellow,” Ezra added. “Not that there’s anything wrong with yellow, but it’s this kinda, sickly, off-white yellow, and when they have any damage on them, the inside oozes out, and that makes me think of…” he hesitated, “unpleasant things,” he finished.

Kanan nodded, and opposed one of the berries in his mouth. Whatever they looked like, they tasted delicious. “Sounds horrible,” he said with a smile intended to show that he didn’t care.

“Yeah, but not as bad as the things hanging on that tree,” Ezra said, giving no indication as to which tree he meant. “And hey, did you know the leaves of the trees are kinda purple here?”

Again, unsurprisingly, he hadn’t known. He had seen different colored trees and plants on different worlds around the outer rim. He had seen trees that changed color for certain seasons, and trees covered with sharp needles instead of leaves. He had never really paid attention to any of it, it had all simply existed in the background of his awareness, but he knew it was there.

He could get a good idea of what this world might look like simply from calling on past experience and what he could hear and sense around him, but until Ezra had mentioned it, he realized that he hadn’t done that. He hadn’t even considered it. He had shaped his opinion of the world based entirely on what he could hear and feel and taste and smell, and what he could sense through the Force.

“Is that a good thing?” he asked. “Purple trees?”

“I don’t know,” Ezra said. “It’s just a thing.”

Kanan nodded. “It’s not so bad here, is it?” he said. “It could have been a lot worse.”

Ezra scoffed and Kanan heard the sound of several berries being dropped into his bag before he replied. “Oh, yeah, it’s great,” he said sarcastically. “Know what’d make it even better? If we had the option of leaving.”

It would have been tough to argue with that. There were probably worse places in the galaxy to be stranded — well, of course there were worse places in the galaxy to be stranded, Kanan had been stranded in some of them — but even though he had agreed to coming here, it was difficult not to feel like a prisoner. It had to be worse for Ezra, who had been given no choice; no foreknowledge.

“I’m sorry,” Kanan told him. “If there’s been any other way…”

“Yeah, you said,” Ezra told him, curtly but without that sense that he was cutting him off completely. He just didn’t want to hear it right now.

Things really could have been worse though. The ship had landed in woodland, a short walk from a river that was a good source of clean, fresh water. The air was likewise clean and unpolluted, and smelled of fresh greenery— purplery? — or of damp leaves underfoot, depending on the direction the wind blew.

The ground had taken some getting used to. It was soft underfoot, years of falling leaves had built up to a surface that his feet sunk into easily. It made walking difficult, and at first it had confused his ability to sense his surroundings, until he learned to compensate. It was very comfortable to sit on though, like meditating on a soft bed.

Above their heads, the canopy rustled constantly as the breeze worked its way through the leaves, adjusting its tune to match the weather and the time of day. It meant that it was never completely silent there.

Whatever color the trees were, or the berries, or the ground or the sky, it felt beautiful. One day, he was going to show it to Hera.

He hoped.

Day 32

“Again.”

“Seriously?” Ezra sighed before getting back into a defensive stance.

Kanan didn’t wait to reply before he lunged at him without warning. Ezra dodged out of the way. He ducked into a roll then leapt to his feet, lightsaber in a defensive position.

He took a breath, then began to advance on Kanan. He ducked another blow, then switched his weapon to his non-dominant hand and attacked. The change of hand threw Kanan for a moment; not long, but long enough for Ezra to gain the advantage. He caught his Master off-balance, and ended the match with a few lucky swings.

He grinned as he offered a hand to help Kanan to his feet. Kanan accepted it graciously. It was their fifth sparring match so far today, and only the first that Ezra had even come close to winning. He was almost certain that Kanan had let him win, but he couldn’t stop himself grinning anyway.

“You’re improving,” Kanan told him.

“Nah, I just got lucky,” Ezra insisted.

Kanan shook his head and placed a hand on Ezra’s shoulder. “You’re improving,” he said. “Ready to go again?”

Ezra sighed, but prepared himself. “Nothing else to do, I guess.”

Day 50

Kanan arranged the firewood ready to light the campfire for the night. One good thing about the planet, or possibly about their location on the planet, was that so far it hadn’t been cold. A little chilly sometimes, but nothing that shutting themselves inside the Phantom overnight couldn’t fix. They didn’t need the fire for heat, not to heat themselves anyway. But there were certain vegetables that needed to be cooked to make them palatable. The fire also provided Ezra with a light-source, and as such had become a fixture every night, whether they were cooking or not.

Oddly, there didn’t appear to have been much change in the length of the day and the night, which made it difficult to tell which season they currently found themselves in. At the same time, the weather hadn’t changed much, leading Kanan to suspect that they had been lucky enough to land in a temperate area. Or maybe the whole planet was like that. Hera had selected it, she would have chosen somewhere where life would be easier.

But if it did grow cold, it was good to know that they could build a fire, as well as that they had an ample supply of blankets and warm clothing.

He sensed Ezra’s eyes on him as he finished building the fire. “You know,” Ezra said. “That’s one practical application for a lightsaber that I never thought of before.”

“Lighting a fire?” Kanan asked.

“And cutting the wood.”

Kanan nodded. It was more than a weapon, it was a useful tool in so many ways. But that particular application wasn’t one that he had considered either, until they had found themselves here.

“So, what’s on the menu tonight?” Ezra asked. “Boiled unnamed vegetables? Or the other unnamed vegetables that don’t need to be cooked?”

Kanan gave him half a smile, then ignited his lightsaber and touched it carefully to the wood shavings at the centre of the pile. They had more than enough of both to last them through any winter that might come, and so far they had proved to be easy to store without having to worry too much about them perishing. The longer they spent on the planet, the more they relied on what they found there, keeping the long-lasting supplies they had brought with them for times when they either really needed it, or wanted a break from the monotony.

“I was thinking,” Ezra said. “Maybe we should give these vegetables and stuff names. It’d make it easier to know what we’re talking about.”

It would, especially given Ezra’s tendency to describe things as ‘the green one’. Kanan shook his head. “I don’t think we need to. It keeps things interesting.”

Besides, starting to name things felt a little too much like giving up and calling the place home.

Day 83

Ezra shifted uncomfortably on the bedroll laid out on the floor of the Phantom. At the other side of the ship, he could hear Kanan breathing quietly. Ezra rolled onto his back, supported his head in the palms of his hands with fingers intertwined and stared up at the darkness above him.

Nights on the planet were dark. It had no moon, and the thick canopy of leaves meant that it was difficult even to see the stars from their location. It was probably different down by the edge of the river where the trees thinned out, but he had never been there at night; he knew that if he was, he would have to stay until dawn or stumble back through the forest in almost complete darkness.

Of course, that wouldn’t have been an issue for Kanan, and neither was the fact that inside the Phantom at night there was no light at all, a darkness so absolute that his eyes could not adjust even enough to show him shapes, or the outline of the viewscreen. Even after so many weeks on the planet, he had still not grown accustomed to it.

He hadn’t mentioned it to Kanan. He probably wouldn’t mention it; what would be the point?

“Kanan?” he asked.

There was the slightest pause before an answer came from the other side of the room. “Can’t sleep again?”

Ezra shrugged, a gesture that felt even more pointless when he couldn’t see either. “Did Hera tell you how long they thought we’d be here for? I mean, is this what you expected, or did you think we’d be out of here by now?”

“I don’t know,” Kanan told him. “It’ll take as long as it takes.”

“But you must have had some kind of an idea.”

“I didn’t,” Kanan told him. “I don’t.”

Ezra sank into silence. He got the impression that Kanan had been almost as in the dark — figuratively speaking — as he was over this. He might have agreed to it, but he had no idea what he was actually agreeing to. And just like Ezra, he had no idea what was happening out there in the rest of the galaxy.

“Do you think they’re okay?” Ezra asked, breaking the silence again. “I mean, you don’t think anything happened to them, do you?”

Kanan’s only response was an impression of tension transmitted through the Force, and for a moment, Ezra was almost glad that he couldn’t see him.

Ezra sighed. “No. They’re fine,” he said, not sure not whether he was reassuring himself or Kanan. “I guess it’s just taking a little longer than Hera thought, right?”

Only, surely if she had really believed it would be that long, she would have come up with another plan. She wouldn’t have sent them away to hide for so long, not when there was so much good they could be doing. Either things had gone badly wrong with the war effort and it simply hadn’t been possible to come back for them, or something had happened to Hera. The fewer people that knew the secret, the more possible it was that none of them were left alive.

He didn’t want to think about that. He didn’t ever want to think about that.

“Maybe they’ll come for us tomorrow,” he said.

Kanan answered him with silence. Ezra looked up at the darkness above his head and didn’t sleep until the first rays of light began to penetrate the viewscreen of the Phantom.

Day 102

Fall was beginning. Ezra had mentioned the leaves overhead beginning to turn from their deep purple to a lighter, less healthy shade, now Kanan felt them beginning to fall to the ground, joining those from previous years in piles on the ground. There was a chill in the air, not so bad that they needed to change their habits, but enough that it felt different. So, the planet had seasons after all.

They shouldn’t have been here anymore. Ezra had been right, that night in the Phantom weeks earlier; Kanan did had an idea how long they should have been waiting, and they should have been home by now.

He flexed the fingers of his right hand, still feeling the ghost of Hera’s touch, and the words that she whispered in his ear, “I’ll see you in a couple of weeks.”

They had packed more supplies than needed, and deliberately picked a planet that they knew was livable in the long term, because they had known there was a chance that it might be longer, but it was such a slim chance that they hadn’t even mentioned it. They were supposed to be home by now, and the fact that they weren’t worried him.

He thought he would know if anything had happened to Hera. It was something he felt as though he would know, no matter where she was in the galaxy, no matter how many lightyears there were between them. But of course, that wasn’t necessarily true. The truth was, he had no idea what was happening outside of their little corner of this tiny world, and he hated it.

If something had happened, if he had been there, might he have been able to prevent it?

Agreeing to this was the worst decision he had ever made.

Day 162

Ezra grinned widely as he deactivated his lightsaber. It might not be the ideal way to learn, but the opportunity to practice every day for so long had definitely improved his technique. He had thought he was good before, but now he felt ready for anything.

It was too bad he was probably never going to get the chance to try out his new skills in the real world.

Day 214

Kanan carefully poured the river water over the tiny marrow plants growing in the vegetable patch by the side of the river. He could feel the sun warming his skin, and the water behind him bubbled as it hit rocks and bumps in the riverbed. He knelt down and carefully dug a small hole to begin the next row of plants, spacing them so that each one had enough room to grow, placing the roots into the soil and covering them over with his hands, pressing down to ensure they were held firm.

Winter had been mercifully short, and spring had arrived. It felt like a good time to plant the infant plants that had grown from the seeds he had harvested at the end of the last year. After weeks of careful cultivation back at the Phantom, while he had worked over the patch of soil by the river, it was time for them to move into the ground and try to thrive.

When he was finished here, he would move on to the three kinds of root vegetables that they had found. Each had their own patch of soil, and if things went well, within a few months they would have all the food they needed to get them through the rest of the year.

When he had finished and watered the second row, he turned his face skyward. They were still out there somewhere, he was sure of it. As much as he tried not to think about it, it was impossible.

He wondered whether Hera was thinking about him too.

Day 287

The floor of the treehouse was smooth to the touch, seared by the lightsaber that had cut the wood. Ezra’s bedroll lay pushed up against one wall. The treehouse was empty otherwise, and would probably stay that way. It wasn’t like there was anything on this planet worth stealing. Still, it was nice to have his own space again. He hadn’t had that since Lothal.

The treehouse reminded him of his tower, in a way. The higher vantage point allowed him some kind of a view, not much, but more than he could get in the Phantom. And as an added bonus, some starlight penetrated the area, and he could see at night. Not much, but enough.

Since moving up there, he had slept better than he had in years.

Day 349

The fire crackled as the wood burned, the smell of fire filled the air, and Kanan breathed in deeply.

Next to him, he heard Ezra do the same. They hadn’t cooked tonight, instead, they had finished off the very last of the rations they had brought with them, two ration bars that Ezra had been saving. It had felt like an occasion, although Ezra had insisted that it wasn’t.

Nothing special, just a day.

They were now completely reliant on the planet to provide for them, and it would.

“Do you still wonder what’s going on out there?” Ezra asked. “How they’re doing?”

Kanan turned to face him. It didn’t make any difference to him, but it seemed to put Ezra more at ease. “Every day,” he said.

“Me too,” Ezra told him. “But I think we’re going to have to learn to live with not knowing.”

Day 431

The irrigation system that Kanan had set up to feed water to the vegetable patch was working well, but Ezra’s absolute favorite of the new innovations they had come up with was the one that moved water from the river directly into the camp. Not only did they have water on tap, but he had been able to have a shower again. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been able to treat himself to something more than a quick wash in freezing river water.

In the summer, if you showered in the evening, the water would be warmed a little by the sunlight, before being slowly released onto whoever was lucky enough to time it correctly. The trick was to beat Kanan to the shower, but still to be late enough that the water was warm. But to be early enough that it hadn’t already begin to cool.

Ezra won more times than he lost. He suspected that Kanan let him.

Life was good.

He still ached to know what had happened; to see his family again, to talk to them, to know that they were okay. But then maybe it was better not to know. As long as he didn’t know, they were still up there, fighting the Empire.

They always would be.

Day 569

Something was wrong.

Kanan felt something disturbing his meditation, but couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was. A feeling, something coming from deep inside him, but something that he couldn’t quite identify. Something familiar, but long-forgotten.

There was a sound.

Kanan opened his eyes. It wasn’t an intentional thing, he barely even realized what he was doing until he turned his face skyward and was disappointed not to see the sight that he had anticipated.

It made no sense. On this planet, he had never seen. There was no reason to expect to see anything in the sky. There was no reason to expect to see the sky at all. That had been lost to him a long time ago.

As had the sound. He concentrated on it; a distant humming in the background, still so quiet that it was difficult to tell whether it was real or imagined. He knew it well, and it had been a long time since he had imagined that sound. In the early days, he had heard it all the time. It had roused him from his sleep and interrupted his meditation and his training sessions with Ezra. It had never been real, and as time had passed it had faded away completely.

He had long since accepted that he would never hear it again.

It was growing louder. The sound of engines, of metal cutting through an atmosphere. Beside him, he sensed it claim Ezra’s attention too. That meant it was real. That meant…

“It might not be them,” Ezra said. “It could be the Empire.” Kanan could hear anticipation in his voice, excitement, but also doubt, as though he didn’t dare let himself hope. To believe something to be true and then have it proven wrong would be too painful. Especially now.

But it wasn’t the Empire. Kanan knew the sound of those engines. He recognized the exact pitch, the hum, the way that the air around him seemed to vibrate. He closed his eyes again, and reached out into the Force, searching for familiarity, and almost instantly, he found it.

At that exact moment, he heard Ezra’s sharp intake of breath as the ship came into view, sensed his disbelief and excitement.

“It’s them,” he said. “Kanan, it’s really them!”

#star wars rebels #swr fanfiction #ezra bridger #kanan jarrus #hold tight guys #this one's painful #or so I've been told

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