I do not own Star Wars: Rebels in any capacity. Just the purely creative content of this fic.

I've always loved the idea of Kanan raising a young Ezra, so this story is based on that premise.

Enjoy Chapter 1!

The planet of Yabol Opa, home of University of Yabol Opa. The entire planet was devoted to higher learning. It was also riddled with bars and fine women of all species. It was Kanan Jarrus' kind of place.

He blended right in, too. There were millions of young people living all over the planet, eager to take in all the knowledge a place like this had to offer. No one batted an eye at the twenty-one year old human male wandering about. And he had to say, pretending to be a college student bouncing from bar to bar was a whole lot more fun than than pretending to be merchant wandering the streets of Brentaal. He knew it was temporary, but he was going to enjoy it while he could.

"Hey!" Kanan slapped down a couple of credits onto the bar. "Gimme another shot of…" He squinted at the back counter at the various bottles of liquor. He pointed at one that looked vaguely in focus. "... that."

He could feel more than see the bartender give him a skeptical look. "Don't you think you've had enough?"

"I know where I am." Kanan nudged the credits in the bartender's direction. He was fairly drunk already, but he knew this last shot would be it. Then he'd be in that perfect place where he could barely feel anything but he could still string together enough coherent sentences to woo a local lady.

The bartender took the credits with a sigh and poured him his drink. Kanan downed it and closed his eyes in content. The last vestiges of his connection with the Force faded and he smiled. It wasn't completely gone. If he absolutely had to, he could probably still reach out through the Force and lift something. Maybe. But what was important was that he could easily ignore it. He could forget the constant reminder that he was a hunted man, forget the life he used to have, and forget that he would probably never be at peace again. It was only temporary (it was always temporary) but he was going to relish it while he could.

Slicking back his hair with his hands and making sure his hair tie was secure, he went off to mingle with female folk.

It had not been one of Kanan's most successful nights, but it hadn't been a total bust. He got into a couple deep conversations with some women. He didn't remember any of the details, but he apparently did well enough that he spent a good hour or so making out with one of them. There was some heavy petting, a bit of gratuitous grinding, but in the end, she didn't seem up to going to his place. Whatever. It had still been fun.

Now he was stumbling back to his crappy little apartment, slightly grumpy that his drunken haze was beginning to lift, his awareness in the Force returning. What he really wanted to do was get another drink, but no bartender would serve to an already drunk human this late. He had made peace with the fact that he would go to sleep, wake up, nurse his hangover, endure another miserable day of earning a measly number of credits before it was socially acceptable to start drinking again.

Kanan stopped walking and frowned. Where the hell was he? It wasn't uncommon for him to get lost. As far as he could tell, this planet didn't have any sort of consistent system of roads, and the buildings all tended to merge together in his head. Leaning against a wall, he tried to focus. He stared at the buildings around him, looking for something familiar. His hand trailed along the wall as he slowly took in his surroundings until it suddenly hit metal. He looked back at the wall and saw that it was a placard.

Grand Warden's Residence

Ah, yes, Kanan remembers hearing about this guy. Solokin Sakeller. Basically the ruler of this planet since the beginning of the Clone Wars. Students and faculty alike would complain about him. He cared more about money and power than about higher education. Connections with the Empire elite and the planet's location on the Perlemian Trade Route helped secured both those things.

What a shock. A corrupt Empire tool.

Shaking his head, Kanan moved on. He didn't want any stormtroopers catching him around here. Even if they weren't likely to know who or what he was, the less he had to deal with those bastards, the better.

Suddenly, a wave of pain and fear washed over him, making him gasp in shock and fall to his knees. For a moment, he was left dazed, fearing that he was about the suffer another breakdown. In the middle of the damned street, no less. But as the moments passed, he realized these feeling weren't coming from inside of him. He was feeling them through the Force.

No… nononono… Kanan forced himself back on his feet and stumbled into a nearby alleyway. Feeling moderately safe in the dark alley, he leaned against one of the buildings, clutching his head in his hands. What was going on? Why was he feeling this? He hadn't felt anything this strongly through the Force since the Purge.

His back slid down until he was sitting on the ground. He took a few deep breaths, trying to push down the panic that was quickly rising up in him. The pain he was feeling ebbed and flowed, but the fear remained almost constant. Was someone nearby in trouble? He tried to listen for any sounds of distress, but there was nothing. No one was around in the dead of the night, especially not near the Warden's. Then why was he feeling this?

Kanan shook his head. He was still drunk. He was probably just confusing his own feelings with this sensation. He forced himself to chuckle. For years, he's been trying so hard to avoid the Force and all that came with it, now his mind was trying to trick him into paying attention to it again.

Well, he wasn't going to fall for it. Standing up, he purposefully blocked out that part of his mind and started stumbling through the streets again. He would find his way back to the apartment. Eventually.

The following morning wasn't as horrible as it could have been. It wasn't the worst hangover he had ever had. There might have been an invisible needle stabbing its way through his eyeball and brain, and the regular waves of nausea made it difficult for him to focus, but he could work through it. Downing a couple of painkillers and chugging down a gallon of water every twenty minutes, he managed to go to work at the cafe near his apartment. A few regulars were there, a couple of which were also nursing a hangover (this planet really was the best place to hide). At this point, his boss - an elderly human woman named Oona - was used to his bouts of swaying and moans in the mornings.

However, this particular morning, Kanan was struggling more than usual to fill out orders correctly.

"Kanan! This man wanted his caf with chocolate, not cinnamon!"

"Oh, sorry!" Kanan took the cup back from the irritable customer, dumped out the contents before making another one.

Oona eyed him suspiciously. "Are you alright?"

"Same as always, you old bat." He plastered on a smile as he handed out the new cup to the man.

"That's the fourth order you've messed up."

"So? Mistakes happen?"

Oona shook her head. "Young man, I've seen you working with a head wound and a need to hurk your guts every five minutes. You've never made this many mistakes before." She practically skittered up to him, leaning forward on her tiptoes to look at his face more closely. "You're distracted!"

Kanan shoved her away. "So what if I am? Midterms are coming!"

She grabbed his arm and pulled him down so her mouth was only centimeters away from his ear. "You and I both know you're not really taking any classes."

Kanan jerked back, wiping the spit off his ear. "I attend lectures…"

Oona let out a bark of laughter. "Sure. But none with any regularity. You just attend those that look interesting to you."

Kanan rolled his eyes as another customer walked up. "What'dya want?" he asked, trying to sound pleasant.

It didn't work apparently, because the Rodian seemed taken aback. "Uhh, just a black coffee please."

After he collected the money and filled the order, Oona assaulted him again. "Is it a girl?"

"No," Kanan replied tersely.

"Is it a boy?"

"Sure, why not?" he replied exasperatedly. "Listen, I appreciate the concern, but I'm fine."

"Concern!?" Oona sounded insulted. "I'm not concerned! The more screw-ups you make, the more my reputation falls, and you know what that means?"

Kanan gave a sigh. He was too tired for this. "What?"

"Profits fall!" She whacked his arm with as much strength as she could muster. "Now focus!"

The rest of his shift was relatively uneventful. He forced himself to pay attention enough to not make anymore mistakes, but that didn't mean he wasn't still distracted.

What he had felt last night… As much as his drunken mind wanted to rationalize it, he knew that it hadn't just been his own feelings. He had felt someone else. And with the intensity of it, he could only conclude that that someone else was Force-sensitive.

Someone Force-sensitive was in pain.

Try as he might, Kanan couldn't just brush that fact aside. After all these years, he had finally encountered another Force-sensitive being. That fact alone put him on edge. While his own sensitivity was something he could never fully ignore, he had all but rejected the ways of the Force. The ways of the Jedi. The Empire was hunting him. Hunting others like him. Most of the Jedi had been killed, but apparently a few Padawans like himself had survived. But not for long. Rumors had it that they were quickly rounded up and tortured, the Empire trying to find the last of the Jedi. Once they had given up all their useful information, they were killed.

Is that what was happening here? Someone had found a former Padawan on Yabol Opa and they were torturing them for information?

Kanan was torn in two. Since leaving Kaller, he had been on his own. He had taken care of himself, disregarding the needs of all others. It had been necessary, for his survival and his sanity. But if there was someone - someone like him - suffering, he couldn't just ignore it. For a Padawan to be lashing out through the Force so strongly, they must be suffering unimaginable horrors.

And so, to get himself through the day, he promised himself that he would go back and try to find this other Padawan. Sure, he risked being captured himself, but if he didn't try to save this person, who else would?

His mind was decided. He would save them, help them recuperate if necessary, then they could go on their separate ways.

Kanan's shift ended in the early afternoon. He returned to his temporary home and, for the first time in years, he meditated. He let the Force flow through him. It was stunted, an uncomfortable affair, but he knew he needed at least some familiarity with the Force again if his suicidal rescue mission was going to have any chance of success.

An hour into his tumultuous meditation, he suddenly felt a pull. He opened his eyes, and he knew the Force was beckoning him towards the closet. Towards the bag buried in the back corner underneath all the random junk he had collected over the years. The bag that held his lightsaber.

Kanan shook his head. He refused to take his saber with him. It might be possible for him to pull this off without revealing that he was a former Padawan. If anyone caught him tonight, they had no reason to believe he was Force-sensitive.

Besides the fact that you're saving another Force-sensitive being.

He shook his head. The fewer clues he gave, the better.

Once he felt calm enough, he got up and prepared to leave. He grabbed a black cloth and a blaster pistol that he had stolen off of Brentaal with him. The first step was to confirm that what he felt last night had been real. If it was… well, the rest of the plan would unfold.

It was early in the evening. Most classes were done by now, but a few evening classes meant there were still dozens of people milling around the vicinity of the Warden's residence. A part of him was begging him to just forget all of this and go to the closest bar for a strong drink, but Kanan squashed that part down. If he was going to do this, he was going to do it right.

As he got closer to the residence, he began to feel it. Kanan's stomach dropped. There was no denying it now. There was another Force-sensitive person nearby, and they were in trouble.

It was strange to feel the presence of another Force-sensitive person again. It also seemed abnormally strong to Kanan. It almost reminded him of the bond he used to share with Master Billaba.

He shook his head. That was a ridiculous notion. He was just being oversensitive to the Force. After all these years, basically any strong connection through the Force would feel like a bond.

And he had other things to worry about.

Kanan had hoped that this potential Padawan was being held in one of the academic buildings, but no such luck. As he got closer, it became abundantly clear that this person was being held on the grounds of the Warden's residence. Thankfully, there were enough people out and about that no one noticed him clambering over the ground walls. However, once he got to the other side, he had to sit behind the nearby oasis of plants. It was still too light out, the residence's guards would easily spot him and the whole thing would be over before it started. He would have to wait for the cover of dark. Besides, as he reached through the Force, he could tell that the other being wasn't in any immediate danger or pain. They were afraid. Oh yes, they were afraid. But they weren't in any immediate pain.

Finding an inconspicuous spot, Kanan sat and waited. He breathed evenly and stared at a particularly bright star in the sky, visible even in the evening light. He didn't know which one it was, but every part of his being wished he were on a planet orbiting it instead of this dirty knook he was kneeling in.

Night fell and the crowds began to thin. The streets weren't completely empty at this point, of course. The night was just starting for many of these people. Normally, Kanan would be among them. But tonight, he needed to help whoever this person was. He pulled out the black cloth, wrapped it around his head to conceal his face, and jumped over the plant he had been hiding behind.

The guards were patrolling regularly, but the darkness hindered their sight, even with the flashlights on their helmets. Kanan used this to make his way to the main mansion. However, the closer he got, the more he felt that he wasn't quite headed in the right direction. He could feel the being's fear (Force, could he feel it) but it wasn't necessarily getting stronger as he got closer to the main house.

Later than he should have, he realized that the person he was looking for wasn't in the Warden's Mansion. As much as it pained him, he closed his eyes and focused on the fear. It was coming from his right. Opening his eyes, he looked and saw a courier-class yacht. They were used by particularly wealthy and powerful families, and Kanan found himself automatically sneering. But then confusion assailed him. If a former Padawan was being tortured, why would they be kept on a yacht? Why not locked up in a more secure location?

Still, as he got closer to the ship, the more keenly he could feel the being's fear. They were definitely on this ship. While befuddling, Kanan couldn't help but be relieved. He couldn't sense anyone else on the ship, which meant the ship's owners were probably in the mansion. Getting someone out of an empty ship was going to be easier than getting them out of a mansion filled with people and guards. There was only a single droid guarding the entrance of the yacht. Shouldn't be too difficult to deal with.

Standing straight and brushing off as much dirt and plant life as he could, he walked up to the personal droid. "The Master wants to speak with you."

The droid looked startled at his sudden appearance. "Mistress Sarai? Is everything alright?"

"I don't know. I was just sent here to tell you that she wants to see you straight away."

"Oh dear…" The droid looked back at the ship. "But what about the boy?"

Kanan shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. "I don't know what you're talking about, but if you'd rather stay here than see to the Mistress' needs, then I'll go tell her…"

"Oh no, that won't be necessary!" the droid said, whirling off towards the mansion. "I wonder what could be so important that she would want me to abandon my post…"

Once the droid was out of sight, Kanan ran inside. He looked around, but nothing seemed particularly out of the ordinary. That is, except for the fear that had spiked in intensity. He turned on the cabin's light and scanned the area. It was very sparsely decorated. The only particularly item of interest was a strange lizard caged in the corner of the sitting area.

Kanan closed his eyes, focusing on what he was sensing through the Force. It was coming from… right beside him? He opened his eyes, but there was nothing to be seen. He turned in a circle, at a loss for what he should be looking for.

No, not beside him. Beneath him.

He looked down, and there was a small durasteel latch, easily overlooked by any normal passerby. He grabbed the latch and yanked it, revealing a hidden hatch. He looked down into it and his heart stopped.

This wasn't a former Padawan. This was a child.

He looked about seven, though Kanan had no way of being sure. His eyes were slammed shut by the sudden light, his cuffed hands raised to block it. His black hair was shiny with sweat, plastered to his face. A face covered in bruises.

This kid was too young. He probably hadn't even been born by the time the Purge had happened. So what was going on? Some rich family trying to hide that they have a Force-sensitive child? Even then, what possible excuse could they have for hurting him like this?

Kanan knelt down and lowered a hand. "Hey kiddo. I'm not going to hurt you…"

The child whimpered and flinched away. His entire body trembled, and Kanan almost cried at the sheer terror he could sense. "I don't know what's going on…" The hatch wasn't that deep, and Kanan was able to place a hand on the kid's shoulder. "... but I promise you're safe now."

The boy stiffened. Then, agonizingly slow, the boy lowered his hands and stared up at Kanan with dark blue eyes. Kanan could feel his confusion and uncertainty, and he tried to project some form of comfort via the Force. "It's okay now," he said, hoping the kid couldn't sense his own uncertainty. "I'm going to get you out of here."

With a trembling hand, the boy gently gripped Kanan's wrist. Feeling the cautious hope, Kanan smiled at the accomplishment. He reached down and grabbed the child by his underarms, lifting him out. Setting him down next to himself, Kanan forced himself to smile despite the horrible condition the child was in. "What's your name, kid?"

The kid stared wide eyed at Kanan, seemingly unable to believe what was happening. Then he licked his lips and muttered, "Ezra."

"Ezra? That's a good name," Kanan spouted weakly. "I'm Kanan. I'm going to help you okay?" He had several questions on his mind, but they could wait until later. For now, he just grateful that the kid nodded without question. "Okay, can you stand?"

Ezra automatically nodded, but when he tried to, his legs trembled and failed him. Kanan caught the unstable child, rubbing his back when he felt the sudden spike of fear emanating from him. "It's okay, it's okay… I can carry you." He hooked one of his arms under Ezra's legs and lifted him. He turned to the ship's exit when he froze.

A well dressed human woman was holding a blaster pistol straight as his head. "What do you think you're doing?"

Please review and let me know what you think!