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This story is dedicated to Kanan Jarrus. May you forever rest in peace within the Force.

The first part of this story is co-written with MaybeImARebel.

A/N: This is an A.U. story that gives our favourite Ghost crew a somewhat happier beginning. Things to note: Kanan / Caleb is 3 years older than canon so he fights the entirety of the Clone Wars with his Master. Hera is also older than her canon age so that Kanan isn't way too old for her (like a certain smuggler and princess). And Ezra will now be a year older than Sabine for plot reasons.

Oh, I'm Attached All Right

Attachments:

D323/22 BBY

Only days after the war was officially over on Ryloth, just turned fourteen year old Caleb Dume and his Master, Depa Billaba, were in charge of the relief supply mission for the battle torn planet.

The Twi'lek General called Cham Syndulla, his resistance fighters, Master Windu, Master Kenobi, and Knight Skywalker had won the planet back from the Separatist Occupation, but at great cost to the population of the Outer Rim planet. The Twi'leks were starving. Much of their food had been pillaged by the Separatists and most of the crops either destroyed by the war or neglected due to the lack of people left to attend them.

The Jedi met with Syndulla at his impressive home in the Tann province. The imposing orange skinned male loomed over Caleb as he greeted them with a serious and courteous expression. "Thank you for coming, Master Billaba. Your assistance is greatly appreciated," Syndulla said as he bowed slightly but respectfully to Caleb's Master.

She smiled warmly and nodded her head in return. "You are most welcome, General Syndulla. Allow me to introduce my Padawan, Caleb Dume."

The auburn haired boy stepped forward bravely, and bowed slightly more than Syndulla had, showing more respect to the older, more experienced man. "It is nice to meet you, General."

Syndulla nodded in acknowledgement. "Welcome, young Jedi." He gestured them into the main foyer of the mansion built inside a mountain. "Please, come in. Can I offer you some refreshments? Caf?"

His Master politely refused, knowing resources were tight for them right now. "We are fine, thank you."

As they walked through the big, beautifully constructed foyer that spoke of past wealth with its sheer emptiness, Caleb's eyes were drawn to movement from down a side hallway, followed by an echoing female voice shouting "C1-10P! Get back here! I wasn't done with you!"

A beat up looking astromech with seared orange and yellow paint on his flat-topped dome came zooming into the room, beeping frantically in Binary about not wanting a new paint job and that he liked his old paint, kriff you very much.

Caleb suppressed a chuckle as the droid tried to hide behind an unimpressed Syndulla, but the light green Twi'lek girl in worn overalls and a long-sleeved white shirt that wasn't very white anymore that came marching into the room after him wasn't having any of the droids evasion tactics as she stomped over to the astromech and kicked the veritable rustbucket in the side.

Wow, is she ever pretty, Caleb thought with wide eyes.

"Chopper!" she scolded as Syndulla turned despairingly amused orange eyes down on the pair. "You are going to get new paint whether you like it or not! Now stop hiding behind father before I..." The girl's words came to a sudden stop as she realized there were more people in the room. Her emerald eyes darted from Caleb to Depa and then back to Caleb, before she blushed darker and looked at the ground. "I'm sorry, Father. I didn't know we had guests," she said quietly in a heavy Ryl accent. Which was very interesting, since she'd hardly had any accent at all when she was yelling at the astromech.

Syndulla almost cracked a smile. "It is alright, Daughter. Come. Meet our guests. These are the Jedi with more supplies for our people. Master Depa Billaba and her Padawan, Caleb Dume." Syndulla glanced at said guests before gesturing to his daughter. "And this is my daughter, Hera. She is all I have left."

Caleb could see and sense the pride the man had in his very pretty daughter. And also mechanically inclined, if the grease on her overalls is anything to go by. Nice.

Hera walked up to the strangers, her embarrassment fading away at their nonjudgmental and open expressions. She bowed respectively to the tall-for-a-female Jedi Master with long, looped braids and they exchanged smiles of greeting. "Hello. It is a pleasure to meet you."

"And I you."

Then Hera boldly looked at the boy dressed in layers of tunics in varying shades of dark green, plus trousers, tall boots, and robe in more shades of brown. Aside from approving of his unique-for-a-Jedi choices in attire, and thinking he had a cute face for a Human, she was drawn to his astonishingly beautiful and thickly lashed teal eyes. A jolt of something unnamed and unknown shot through her, awareness tingling through every millimetre of her twelve year old body.

Hera didn't know it yet, but that instant connection meant that she'd found her fated mate.

She almost forgot how to speak for a moment as their gazes locked, but then words finally tumbled out, her native accent thick from emotion. "Hello to you too. Welcome to our home."

Caleb blinked, and had to consciously remind himself to keep his mouth closed, because the girl suddenly wasn't just pretty, but the most exquisitely stunning girl he'd ever seen. He actually felt his heart pick up speed and his palms grow sweaty. Her eyes were the most perfect shade of emerald green, and her nearly lime green skin was literally his favourite colour in the galaxy. (Unfortunately, the Council wouldn't let him wear it, but had at least conceded to dark green tunics. It helped that he was the Grandpadawan of the Master of the Order.) Her facial features were elegant and looked like they belonged on royalty. Her shoulder blade length lekku were just flat out adorable from where they poked out from a white cap. And her Force signature was bright and incredibly pure, like a young star.

But best of all was her voice. Her melodious alto voice. It gave him literal chills, it was so perfect. Either with or without the accent, which seemed to come and go depending on her comfort level. Caleb gulped, and tried frantically to remember how to speak. "Hhh... Hi," he finally managed, then mentally smacked himself. Smooth, Dume. Real smooth. "I'm Caleb," he added, then mentally face palmed. Idiot! She already knew that!

Hera giggled as his pale Human skin flushed bright red. "Hi, Caleb. It's nice to meet you. I wish I could stay and talk, but Chopper and I have a long overdue date with a paint sprayer."

"No we fragging don't!" the droid beeped out in protest, taking off down a different hallway.

"See what I mean?" Hera said with a smirk and a roll of her pretty eyes. She waved goodbye as she took off after her droid.

Caleb could hear her chastising the droid all the way down the hallway. "You get back here this instant C1-10P or you're seriously going to regret it! As is, we're going to have make an adjustment to your programming. Your manners in front of guests are atrocious!" Her voice even sounded angelic when she was scolding a droid and fading away. Caleb wanted her to come back. He wanted to hear her talk some more. He wanted to look at her some more. He just flat out wanted. And his feelings scared and confused him because he'd never felt like this before.

He was so focused on these new feelings that he barely hear Syndulla apologize for the rude and possibly malfunctioning droid that his daughter had rescued from a crashed Y-Wing during the battle a few days ago.

Caleb startled out of his near trance when Master Depa sent a quick burst of disapproval down their bond. He glanced over at her, ashamed. Right. Jedi aren't allowed to have feelings like that. Oops. Caleb breathed deeply as they followed Syndulla deeper into the house, centering himself again. With one last thought of longing for what would never be, Caleb put the Twi'lek girl out of his mind.

At least, for now.

Later, after delivering the supplies to the towns and villages that needed them the most, General Syndulla departed their ship with one last sentence. "If either of you ever need anything, my home is always open to the Jedi." With a final bow of farewell, the large Twi'lek male took his leave, and headed back to his home.

Caleb shrunk a little in the co-pilot chair when Depa glanced at him as she flew the ship through the atmosphere and up into space. "Do we need to talk about all the feelings that were taking over you earlier?"

Caleb shook his head emphatically, making his short braid swing. "Nope. No. I'm good. I have it under control. Sorry Master. I was just surprised, that's all. I promise it won't happen again."

Depa raised a brow, a hint of humour running down their developing bond. "I'm sure."

Caleb sunk even lower in his chair, trying to hide within himself. Losing control of his emotions was not a good way to impress his new Master of only a few months. How kriffing embarrassing.

That night, while they flew through hyperspace back to Coruscant, an image of the girl appeared in his mind again as Caleb was drifting off to sleep. A small smile formed on his lips. He might not ever see her again, and he might not be allowed to actually feel anything about her, but he still considered her to be the best birthday present he'd ever received.

For what teenage boy didn't like to have something nice to dream about?

Back on Ryloth, Hera flopped on her bed after putting on a soft nightgown and hugged her pillow to her chest and sighed. She dreamily stared at her ceiling without actually seeing it. In her mind, all she saw was the totally hot Human boy she'd met that day. And not just any boy. A Jedi boy.

She mouthed his name to herself. 'Caleb Dume.' What a great name.

His teal green eyes had haunted her mind all day, how they'd seemed to see all the way into her soul. She liked his short, soft looking reddish brown hair, too, with its little braid hanging behind his right ear. Her fingers still itched with the urge to touch it. And he'd been tall, too, for a young teenager; actually a few centimetres taller than herself. Which wasn't easy to do, since she felt freakishly tall for a girl. She blamed her father for that. I certainly didn't get my height from Mom.

Hera cut off that line of thought quickly or she'd start weeping again. Her mother was gone, lost in the war a few months ago. She focused instead on the image of the boy in her mind. He was so much better to think about. Hera sighed again. Caleb.

Chopper beeped inquiringly from where he'd parked himself protectively by her bed. She turned her head and looked at him, with his brand new, painstaking orange and yellow paint job that had taken her hours to do since he kept moving at the wrong moment and making her mess up. She'd actually had to turn him off to get it done. "It's nothing, Chopper. Just a boy. You wouldn't understand."

Chopper beeped back, "This young organic?" before showing a holo image of Caleb that he must have recorded in the few minutes that they'd been in the same room.

Hera gasped and jumped off the bed, tossing her pillow aside. "Chopper!" She hugged the droid. "Oh Chop, you're the best droid ever! Don't ever erase that image. Please."

Chopper beeped, "Okay."

Hera hugged him one more time. She got up and slipped under the covers on her bed, putting her pillow back where it belonged, before curling up on her side facing her droid. "Can you leave that image on for me until I go to sleep?"

Chopper beeped an affirmative. Hera smiled at him as she eagerly drank in the image of Caleb Dume, one of the Jedi superheroes that had saved her people.

D365/20 BBY, Kaller

Depa woke on a gasp. The Force was screaming at her, Caleb's nearly overwhelming fear making her choke as it flooded their bond. The Jedi Master struggled out of her sleeping bag, calling her lightsabre into her hand and igniting the green blade as she surged out of her tent.

Her eyes widened in horror as she emerged to find her entire battalion of clones pointing their blasters at her and Caleb, who had already emerged from his tent, with blue sabre held at the ready. Most of the clones were dressed only in their black bodysuits since it was the middle of the night, making them look like wraiths in the intermittent dark. "Why?" she asked Commander Grey.

By the light of the moon, the campfires, and their lightsabres, Grey looked back at her with emotionless eyes. In fact, every single one of her comrades in arms were looking at them with emotionless dark eyes, his pupils blown wide. It sent a frisson of fear down her spine. "Because you are a traitor. You must die. All Jedi must die."

Without any further warning, hundreds of blasters fired at Caleb and Depa, their lightning fast Jedi reflexes saving them for a moment from all of the shots aimed directly for their chests and heads.

Their lightsabres flew as they struggled for their lives, but the clone troopers just kept shooting. Hundreds of them. Against two. They never stood a chance. Depa cried out when Caleb fell to the ground, tears running down her cheeks and making it even harder to see. He had been felled by a bolt to the head that had made it past his defences.

Her moment of inattention was enough. A bolt made it past her lightsabre and hit her in the chest. As she fell, her last sight was of her beloved Padawan's sightless teal eyes.

Depa woke on a gasp, tears streaming down her face, just like in her vision. "Caleb," she whispered. She sent a warning down the bond, which she felt him acknowledge. Grabbing a bag with the most important thing she owned in it, she slipped out of her tent as quietly as possible, unlit lightsabre gripped fiercely in hand.

Her precious Padawan of three and a half years emerged from his tent, lightsabre also ready at a moment's notice, eyes wide with curiosity. Depa thrust the bag at the tall and lanky teenager that now topped her by almost a whole head. "Take this and run. Run, Caleb. Now. I'll be right behind you."

Caleb looked at his Master, the deadly serious expression on her face filling him with trepidation. "But why?"

Depa narrowed her eyes at him. "It doesn't matter." She shoved him in the direction of the hill. "Go!"

So Caleb ran, all the way to the top of the hill, but he came to a stop when he heard blaster fire. Lots of it. He looked back and saw the entire battalion of clones, including his longtime friends Grey and Styles, shooting at his Master. Her green lightsabre was nearly a blur as she stood like an untamable warrior goddess between them and Caleb, her long dark hair loose and whipping in the sudden wind around her beige dress clad body.

His heart all but stopped. "Master!" he screamed, and started running back down the hill.

He'd only taken two steps when he heard her voice in his head and felt an almost overwhelming urge to do as ordered. "RUN, CALEB!" He came to a halt again. She'd never actually said words in his head before, and she'd paired it with the strongest burst of Force Persuasion she could muster. It was just enough to make him obey against his protective instincts. His mind was screaming 'No! No, no, no, no!' even as his feet carried him away from her.

As he topped the hill again, he looked back one more time, only to see the woman who was like his mother in all but name fall, shot hundreds of times as her lightsabre fell from her limp hand. Master. Oh, Depa, why?

As one, the clones looked up at Caleb silhouetted in the night sky by the moon behind him. "Get the traitor!" yelled Commander Grey.

Heart broken and lodged somewhere up near his throat, Caleb turned and ran for his life towards Plateau City, which glowed in the distance, igniting his lightsabre and blocking the shots that came too close as he ran. He didn't even look back, letting the Force direct his arm and give wings to his feet, eyes too full of tears to be able to see much anyway.

Finally reaching the edge of the city after having left the murderous clones behind, Caleb slunk into the nearest dark alley and lost himself in the maze of narrow streets. His first instinct was to head for the spaceport, but he knew that was the first place the clone troopers would look for him. So for now, he'd stay in the city, hiding.

He stole new clothes and food to survive, hiding under a hooded cloak and pretending to be an old man. When he found a decent place to hole up in an abandoned building, the emotional numbness that had temporarily sunk in wore off. He collapsed to the floor in a corner and curled into himself, icy cold tears streaming down his face as his shoulders shook with the undoubtedly loud and ugly sobs he was barely holding in.

After a while, when he felt drained to the core, he wiped the remaining teardrops off his face and sniffed pathetically, his sinuses clogged even worse than that terrible cold he'd had last year. Taking the bag off his belt, the one Depa had given him, he opened it and pulled out the object he already knew was in there. Caleb glared at the holocron in his hand. "Why?" he demanded from it. "Why did she make me run? Why did the clones turn on us? They called me a traitor, but I know I'm not. I serve the Republic, just like they do. Don't they?"

When the holocron did nothing, not even bothering to open, Caleb lost it. He threw the precious cube across the room, and watched with satisfaction as it bounced off the wall and disappeared into a corner.

Not even a minute of glaring at the dark corner later, he'd already come to regret his rash actions. Shit! What did I do? That's all I have left of her!

Jumping to his feet, he retrieved the holocron and cradled it to his chest, relieved that it didn't seem broken. This was the last thing his Master had given him. And it was important to her. He'd treasure it forever or die trying.

Caleb sank back to the floor, holding the holocron like a lifeline to his chest as the unwanted tears started again. "Why?" he whispered to the Force.

It didn't answer. But it seemed to be hurting just as much as he was, which was no consolation at all.

1 day later, Ryloth

Cham and Hera sat in stunned silence for endless minutes after watching the breaking news bulletin. It was beyond unbelievable. And Hera said so, with arms crossed and jaw set. "I'm not buying it. The Jedi would never betray the Republic. They were good people."

Cham put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I agree. I think we're being fed a load of bantha poodoo. The timing is just too convenient. The Jedi are executed for treason and the Chancellor suddenly takes over, changing the political system from a Galactic Republic to a Galactic Empire, all in the space of a couple of days? Definitely something wrong with that picture."

Hera huffed. "How can they get away with it? Doesn't anyone else see this is wrong?"

Her father sighed at the injustice. "I think not. People are willingly blind to what is happening around them. They just want to live the easiest way possible. Not the right way."

"Well I'm never going to live like that, with my head buried in the sand," Hera vowed. "I'm going to fight for what is right. Always." With that, Hera marched out of the room, lekku stiff with determination. Cham watched his daughter with pride and worry. What kind of trouble is she going to get into, with that kind of spirit?

Hera went to her room, with Chopper following behind her. She closed the door and sank onto her bed, utterly dejected. "Please turn on the image, Chop."

Chopper beeped, and the latest holo image of Caleb Dume from the holonews appeared from one of his most recent battles on Cato Neimoidia. Some reporter had somehow managed to capture him fighting in a back to back circle of him, his Master, and Generals Kenobi and Skywalker on one of the city bridges against what had to be a few thousand battle droids while their clone troopers moved in from the outside edges and above.

Chopper had worked his magic and separated out Caleb so his life-sized image stood alone now in her room, still wearing his signature green tunics but with his padawan braid much longer and hanging down in front of his broad shoulder. His expression was of calm concentration as he wielded his lightsabre easily. He was so handsome now, nearly all grown up, he literally took her breath away.

Looking at it now, all the image did was break her heart at the loss of such an incredible young man whom the news and holonet had latched onto as their second favourite Jedi after the handsome and courageous Anakin Skywalker now that (former) Padawan Tano had literally disappeared from existence after she'd almost been executed for something she didn't do.

A tear ran down Hera's cheek, which she quickly wiped away. She gazed at Caleb's beautiful eyes for a moment, then turned her head away. "Delete it, Chopper. Delete them all. He's gone. There's no point keeping his images anymore."

Chopper beeped, "Are you sure?"

Hera lay down on her side facing away from the droid and curled up around her pillow. Her, "Yes. I'm sure," was barely audible and actually made Chopper whimper a bit in sympathy.

"All right," he beeped softly.

But the smart droid kept the many holoimages of his mistress' favourite obsession in his memory banks, just in case.