The war is over, and the Spectres, try to find a way to move on without Kanan.

This is a HEAVY, piece and deals with the aftermath of the loss of Kanan. (Major Character Has Died), so be warned. There is the comfort of a Kanera child to get you through it, though, so don't be too mad at me. :)

PLEASE review so I know if I should continue.

"I cannot rest from travel: I will drink

Life to the lees: All times I have enjoy'd

Greatly, have suffer'd greatly, both with those

That loved me, and alone…

How dull it is to pause, to make an end,

To rust unburnish'd, not to shine in use!

As tho' to breathe were life! Life piled on life

Were all too little, and of one to me

Little remains: but every hour is saved

From that eternal silence, something more,

A bringer of new things..."

From "Ulysses" by Alfred, Lord Tennyson

1.

"Cale!" The dark-haired man called out into the open grassland, scanning the horizon, but there was no one as far as the eye could see. "Hera, I don't see them anymore."

"Comm them. Chopper's with him." The Twi'lek stood up from her seat, datapad held loosely in her hand. A crease of worry appeared on her brow as she scanned the bright horizon, her hand shielding her eyes and the ends of her head scarf blowing in the wind.

"Chop?" He called the little droid on his comm. There was no answer. Ezra glanced to Hera, as she immediately turned and stalked into the house. Ezra tried again. "Chop, come in, now."

Hera came out with a blaster strapped to her hip. The panic in her eyes was barely held in check. "I'm going."

Chopper's voice came back over the comm at that moment.

Hera and Ezra both sagged with relief.

"Where's Spectre 7? You've got the kid, right?"

There was an affirmative to answer Ezra's question and a complaint about the comm reception. Chopper gave their location to Ezra, a set of rocks over to the left of the homestead, about eleven klicks away.

When he stopped speaking, the sound of Cale's voice could be heard in the background. "Chopper? What kind of rock is this? Oooh, Chop—did you see that Lothcat? I think it ran in here."

"Ok, thanks Chop. Back by 1800 hours ok?" Reassured at hearing her son's voice, Hera sat back down on the spine-wood bench that Ezra had built and put outside their house. Often, especially when Caleb had been younger, Hera or one of the others would sit out here while Cale played with Chopper or one of the many Loth-cats that seemed drawn to the two Force sensitives. Now, a couple of years older, the kid had begun exploring the grassland and rocks around their home. Hera hadn't liked the idea very much, but she'd agreed when Ezra had pointed out there was nothing to worry about if Chopper accompanied the boy.

"That kid," she shook her head and smiled faintly as she sat back down.

Ezra relaxed and also sat back down on the other side of the bench. This was their second year on Lothal. It had been unthinkable to split up after the war, so the whole family had come to the planet that had meant so much to them in order to set down roots. It had been the last place that Hera and Kanan had been together before he died, and both she and Ezra felt a sense of comfort here that they could find nowhere else.

"Yeah. I told him not to go more than ten klicks out. He's pushing it." Ezra ran a hand over his longer hair, which was tied back in a nerf-tail and sighed. He didn't know where they would all be, if not for Caleb; they all loved the boy, more than any of them could lay words to. He was a tangible reminder of Kanan Jarrus, Jedi Knight, and they loved the child as much as they'd loved the man, if such a thing were possible. Even now, the Spectres kept the boy close, none of them willing to trust outsiders with his safekeeping. He was family and part of the team. They'd even given him a code sign when he was born—he was Spectre 7. They showered him with love and pinned all their hopes for a future after the war on him. If the rift in their hearts could be healed, it would be Caleb who would do it.

Ezra's blue eyes turned back to the sky and scanned it, then scanned the grassland in front of him. No TIEs, no troopers, no transports. Just miles and miles of grass. To Ezra, who had grown up on Lothal and then in the chaos of war, it was soothing to watch the currents of the wind play over its waving surface. It reminded him of his childhood on Lothal, and when meditating, it was one of the things he used to calm and center himself.

"He takes after you." Hera said with a faint smile, looking up with eyes that seemed faded from the brilliant green Ezra remembered. Like Kanan's after Maul. Hera wasn't blind as Kanan had been, but it was as if the sadness or shedding of so many tears had paled her eyes until they were the color of the dry Lothal grassland.

"Him take after me? That's not very comforting." Ezra remarked, a snarky tone to his voice. "He takes after…"

"Kanan. Yeah." Her eyes went to the horizon again. "But you too. He looks up to you, Ezra."

"Well, nobody's perfect." Ezra grinned at her raised eyebrow, but then looked back at the horizon before he realized what he was still scanning for. There weren't going to be any more TIEs coming to hunt them down. That was over. So were the troopers and the assassins. They were over, but it didn't stop him from looking for them. Some nights, he would awaken out of a deep sleep to find himself standing at the front window, looking out, his blaster in his hand. Keeping watch in the dead of night. Sabine would awaken, alone in their bed and come to find him; only her soft touch on his shoulder and her steady voice could bring him back from it. What was it Zeb would say? You can take the soldier from the war, but you can never take the war from the soldier. True enough.

When the war was over, he was surprised to find that both he and Hera missed it. It had been both an excuse and distraction. There was always something to be done, an objective to accomplish, a strategy to plan. Now that there were no demands on their time, there was an opportunity to think about their loss. Now there was time to breathe, time to take a look, time to feel around the edges of the empty hole that Kanan's loss had left in their lives. Their sorrow was an open wound in the Force. They couldn't enjoy the peace they'd won because they'd lost so much and worried about losing more.

The first anniversary of Kanan's death had sent Hera into an almost catatonic state of sorrow. She wouldn't speak, she wouldn't eat…she just remained in her bunk on the Ghost, curled into a ball crying…the door locked against them all. Ezra had felt it through the Force. The only thing that had stopped him from descending into the same state had been baby Caleb. Ezra watched the child sleeping and could feel his grasping Force signature. The child felt his mother's pain and opened his blue-green eyes, tiny face twisting in sadness before he uttered a soft sob.

Ezra had wiped the tears off of his face, picked up the child and snugged Caleb up against him. "Shhh," he'd said, reaching out through the Force and projecting only his love for Kanan and by extension, the tiny child in his arms. "Don't cry, Cale." It had been the only thing that kept him from losing his mind with grief at the time.

You have to help Hera move on. You have to help all of them move on, Kanan's voice seemed to say. I taught my Padawan better, didn't I?

"Caleb's been asking questions about Kanan again." Ezra brought himself back to the present. Hera's gaze shifted to him.

"What did you say to him?" She asked softly. "Just so we'll be on the same page."

"He asked me if I thought that Kanan meant to leave him behind. I told him absolutely not, of course, but I'm not sure he believed me. Then he started asking about the Force and Kanan and himself. He wanted to know about the Jedi, so I told him a little, but he's got that look in his eye like he's thinking."

Hera nodded, knowing how her son was when he became fixated on a topic. Ezra went on, "If you want me to talk to him, I don't mind. I just…I know how you feel about the Force stuff."

It was one of the few points of contention between them. Hera had always been against training Cale in the Force. Anger had shown in her eyes when Ezra had spoken of it, and reaching out with his abilities, he had sensed her hatred for Force. She loathed it. She had blamed it for stealing Kanan and leaving her to raise their child without him. It wasn't true, but he knew that it helped her to blame something…so he had let it be.

But the kid was getting older. The Force was strong in Caleb Jarrus, so strong that Ezra would find himself gazing at the kid's Force signature, unable to tear his eyes away. The kid was like a vergence in himself. The Force didn't simply flow through him, it was attracted to him. It gathered around him, as if holding him in an embrace. Sometimes Ezra had the crazy feeling that Kanan himself was watching over the boy, but…he knew that was crazy. The Jedi Order hadn't believed such things as ghosts. But still…

"No training, Ezra. You know how I feel…about that. The Force took Kanan from me. It does NOT get to take my kid too." Hera shook her head and looked away. She stood to go back inside, to retreat from this situation, but Ezra stood up and took her arm gently, holding her.

"Hera. The kid is strong with the Force. According to Kanan, most younglings started way before seven years old. He needs to have control over himself and his abilities. He needs to know how to defend himself. He needs training. Please. Trust me."

Hera looked around as if she were trapped and looking for any out. "I can't do this right now."

"Then when, Hera? We can't just educate him about everything but the Force. Let's talk about this…"

"Not. Now." She steadied herself and fixed him with angry green eyes, the way Kanan would do when Ezra was being stubborn. But Ezra was now twenty-seven and no child anymore.

"Without training you know the danger…"

"No more." She shook her head and went inside, slamming the door behind her.

Ezra sat back down and dropped his head into his hands. He was going to have to talk to Zeb and see if the older Lasat could help him make her understand. Kanan, I wish you were here, he thought gloomily.

After a time, he lifted his head, dark blue eyes scanning the horizon again, eternally vigilant. TIEs, troopers, transports…he looked for unnatural movement in the grassland and listened for the scream of a TIE overhead.

A/N: Please let me know what you think!