So I told my sister and a couple other people I would post this, and here it is! Just some ponderings about Kanan in the Hera is a Jedi au that turned themselves into a ficlet. Set mid-season one of SWR, and rated G!
Taglist: @firefoxtessa @day-to-day-thots @auroramagpie @laughingphoenixleader @accidental-spice @heckin-music-dork @opalknight @cassie-fanfics and I'm also gonna tag @xxxcertifiednerdxxx, solely because you're accidentally the reason I wrote this. Feel free to ignore the tag, though! (also if anyone wants to be added or removed from the taglist, DM me!)
“What’s Kanan’s job around here, anyways?”
Hera barely glanced up at Ezra’s question as she removed yet another part from her lightsaber, which lay in pieces in front of her on the worktable in her room. “What do you mean?”
Frowning, Ezra said, “Everyone’s got a role, you know? Zeb is the muscle and Chopper’s the homicidal hacker droid, and Sabine’s the explosives expert, and you’re the Jedi and the pilot and the boss all at once. You’re all really talented, you know?”
A smile hovered at the edge of Hera’s mouth as she picked up a miniscule tool and used it to unscrew another part. “Flattering as always, Padawan. Your point being?”
“Kanan doesn’t really have a role,” Ezra said, watching her work. “Hey— couldn’t you use the Force for that?”
“I could,” Hera agreed, removing the part. “But I like to do it this way.” Setting aside her tool, she finally met Ezra’s eyes. “Why does it matter what Kanan’s role is? He’s here to help us fight, and that’s what’s important.”
“Yeah, but—”
“Someone say my name?”
Ezra and Hera glanced up as Kanan stuck his head through the open door, lifting a curious brow. “Ezra wants to know your role in this crew,” Hera said dryly. “Any thoughts?”
“Oh, obviously,” Kanan said. “Professional chef, and eye candy.” He shot a wink at Hera, who rolled her eyes, before turning to Ezra. “But in all seriousness— I’m whatever we need at the moment. That’s where I do my best work. Speaking of best work, how do enchiladas sound for dinner? I found some of those peppers you and Zeb love so much at the market, Captain Hera.”
“That sounds amazing, love,” Hera said, shooting him a smile as he slipped back out and down the hall. After a moment, she directed her gaze back to Ezra. “Does that answer your question?”
“...kind of?”
Chuckling, Hera said, “Well, if you’re still wondering, why not ask the rest of the crew? They might have some good insight. And you could always try meditating on it.”
“I think I’ll talk to the others,” Ezra said hastily, getting to his feet. Hera looked amused, but gave him a nod before returning to her lightsaber maintenance with laser-like focus.
The first crew member he encountered was Chopper, and Ezra knew better than to bother with him. Not that he’d care, anyways, the droid was crazy. Instead, he headed for the lounge, where he found Zeb cleaning his bo-rifle.
The Lasat directed a frown at him— but it wasn’t his real, “why are you near me do you want to suffer” scowl, just his all purpose “I’m pretending to be grumpy cause it makes me look cool” frown. “Thought you were training with Hera.”
“I was,” Ezra said, dropping onto a crate nearby. “But then I asked her a question—”
“You? Ask a question? Color me real surprised.”
“Ha, ha,” Ezra said, scowling at him. “Listen. I asked her what Kanan’s role was on the ship.”
“Really?” Zeb paused in his cleaning and glanced up, interest flashing through his eyes. “What did she say?”
“Why? Wait— do you not know either?”
“‘Course I know. Just curious about what she said.”
“Sure. Well, she said that it wasn’t important, then told me to ask everyone else. Kanan says he’s whatever he needs to be. Well, first he flirted with Hera, then he said that.”
Snorting, Zeb said, “Sounds about right.”
“So what do you think? What’s Kanan’s role?”
The Lasat shrugged, setting aside a cleaning rag. “Dunno. He’s just Kanan.” He glanced up in time to see Ezra’s scowl, and sighed. “Look, kid. You’re taking this too seriously. It’s not really about roles, anyways. It’s about why we’re here.”
“What do you mean?”
Finally, Zeb set down his bo-rifle. “You know, why we’re fighting the Empire.” He paused, his expression turning uncharacteristically somber. “You know why I’m doing it. And Hera’s pretty obvious, more than just the Jedi stuff.”
“She’s passionate about making stuff right,” Ezra guessed. “Well, what about Sabine?”
“What about me?”
Ezra and Zeb both looked up to see Sabine, carrying a handful of paint-covered rags and looked satisfied with herself. “Kid wants to know what Kanan’s role is, why he’s here,” Zeb said, nodding at Ezra. “Then he asked about you.”
“Seriously?” Sabine rolled her eyes. “Tell me you two aren’t this clueless. He’s here for Hera, obviously.”
“Well, I know that,” Ezra said, feeling himself flush slightly as Sabine ducked into the kitchen and returned without the rags. “But, like, does he have another reason? And what’s his job, you know? He’s kinda just some guy, not a Jedi or pilot like Hera, and not a master warrior like Zeb, or an explosive expert like you.”
“True,” Sabine acknowledged. “But not everyone in the Rebellion has to be as amazingly talented as we are. Most of us have a personal problem with the Empire. Could be Kanan does, too. But why does it matter?”
“I… guess it doesn’t,” Ezra said slowly. “It just didn’t make any sense to me that he’s the odd one out, I guess.”
Sabine shook her head impatiently. “You’re putting too much stock in the “everyone needs to be crazy skills” thing, kid. Look, Kanan’s a great shot, and a decent co pilot.”
“Amazing cook, too,” Zeb offered, and Sabine nodded.
“True. But what’s most important is that he has our backs. He looks out for us, in big ways and little ones. He knows what we need and he makes sure we can do our jobs well. We couldn’t do this without him. Got it?”
“I… I do, actually,” Ezra said. “Thanks.”
Kanan announced dinner was ready around an hour later, and the crew gathered in the lounge to eat. Hera took her usual seat, and Ezra dropped onto a crate nearby. “Did you figure out the answer to your question, Padawan?” she asked him, a hint of amusement in her eyes.
Setting down his fork, Ezra said, “I did, actually.” He paused, feeling the crew’s eyes on him, but Hera nodded for him to go on. “Your role isn’t an obvious one like Zeb or Hera,” he told Kanan, who was sitting opposite them, his plate balanced on one knee. “You’re here to watch our backs and make sure we’re okay, and take care of us. You’re… kind of the glue that holds us all together. Without you, we wouldn’t have made it this far.” He looked at Hera. “Am I right?”
His master was smiling, first at Ezra, and then at Kanan, who seemed surprised. “You’re absolutely right,” she told him. “Well done, Ezra.”
“Not bad, kid,” Zeb said.
Shrugging, Ezra said, “Hey, Kanan said it first— he’s whatever we need him to be. I think that counts, right?”
Kanan let out a chuckle, shaking his head. “Can’t argue there, I guess.” Shooting a wink at Hera, he added, “I still think I count as eye candy, though.”
“Of course you do, dear,” Hera said, rolling her eyes.
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