Xspectre-1 - Blog Posts

xspectre-1​ // kanan jarrus

it had taken kanan years to get here. to feel this comfortable with his emotions… with others. having children had never been the plan, even when sabine and ezra had joined. kanan had insisted they wouldn’t matter– they would be a crew, that was it. 

oh how wrong he had been. 

the family the six had created… it was the reason for their success. for their strength. 

but watching them grow– seeing them now. he couldn’t have guessed how it would have made him feel. how proud he had become. 

kanan smiled a bit, a small chuckle on the edge of his lips. they had always been okay in the end, hadn’t they? perhaps their collective number of loses keeping them from… much. 

but as sabine continued, the small smile fell, perhaps sad to divert so quickly. to face reality. what he had missed– what he had caused even. 

not that the words were expected. 

“what- no, i mean. no more than anyone,” he continued, hands returning to them, worried they might slip away. “i mean, that’s what the rebellion is, isn’t it?”

.

Seeing his smile again...it was like a sunbath after a year of winters, a remnant from a time when her family-- not just one, but both-- had been whole. Years ago, they couldn’t have considered this a possibility. Couldn’t have imagined she’d be standing here on the shining plains of Lothal (a place that held so much shared history for the Spectres). Yet, there she was: in the arms of their parent, now returned to them at last. It was a gentle reminder: in the here and now, the Mandalorian was truly safe. And that was enough.

They almost had to concede a chuckle at his disbelief. She’d seen him perform feats they’d never be able to dream of, had seen him walk through blaster fire alone and blind-- yet return home unscathed. And still he tried to play humble.

“I know it’s hard to believe, right? Who would have thought a knucklehead like you could ever be a war hero?”

She looked up at the mask that adorned his face, the eyes of the jai’galaar still in tact. It had been years since they had painted them on, but for him, it was only a matter of weeks. Months, maybe. Despite the time, she remembered well enough. Those first few nights after Malachor, in the cabin of the Ghost (when words were seldom spoken, but the pain and grief were a shared). Shared by those that loved each other most--

“Dank farrik, Kanan! Have you met with anyone else? Zeb, Hera?”

Therein was hidden the silent question only she knew was being asked of him: did Kanan know about Jacen? Did he know he was a father not only by bond, but also by blood? By the Ka’ra, he needed to know they were safe. He needed to see them healthy, and alive. 

xspectre-1​ // Kanan Jarrus

.

“sabine you don’t… have to tell me. i’m not going to make you– relive anything…”he said, blinking as she continued, keeping his attention focused on her. his grip remained firm until– people coming back? could the force do that? thoughts briefly strayed– why he had been brought back but so many hadn’t– why only some had been chosen. 

he interrupted, feeling sabine’s movement. her greif. hands moved to carefully take her shoulders, “hey… hey we don’t have to talk about that, not now,” he assured her, sighing as he pulled her bac k into a hug. his confusion didn’t matter, not as much as her comfort… or at least, ability to calm down. he could catch up in his own time… with a small smile, he tightened his grip some, “i’m just glad you’re okay–”

.

She breathed deeply into his side, the familiar scent of leather and ash filling her senses. A torrent of emotions fought in their chest. Anger. Grief. Joy. Exhaustion. And something they couldn’t speak into existence, the feeling of finally being home.

“Kanan, I’m so- I’m sorry. I’m--”

Sorry I can’t explain it better--

Sorry I couldn’t stop the fire before it--

Sorry I couldn’t get the ship out of there fast enough--

Sorry I disappointed you.

But he didn’t remember. He didn’t remember because he didn’t live it, and thank the Force for that. Or the Manda. Whatever had brought him back, she would raise a glass to it, now and forever. Their buir was back, and nothing would take him away from her again. Fuck the rules, this was their father.

“I’m glad you’re okay, too.” They could tell Kanan was confused, was lost and trying his best to hold it together for her sake. They sighed, then used the back of her hand to push away the tears falling shamelessly across her cheeks. It was her turn to comfort him, despite the ache in their own chest. (Because that’s what children do for their parents.)

“It’s been about two years since the Empire fell. The New Republic is starting to reinstate some form of government and peace in the galaxy. And--” they hesitated, unsure of the specifics regarding his religion and people. What she did know, though, she would share. “The Jedi aren’t hunted anymore. No more Vader. No more Inquisitors.  As far as the Rebellion is concerned, Kanan... you’re a hero.” You’re my hero. 

xspectre-1​ // Kanan Jarrus

as she warmed to his embrace he sighed some, holding her close. it had taken sometime for them to connect like this, but having her accept his comfort, having this relationship with her? he hadn’t realized how much he wanted sabine to feel like a part of his family until she finally had– he hadn’t expected to ever fill a father role– but how grateful he was of the opportunity. 

but unfortunately, that wasn’t at the front of his mind. it was hard to ignore the amount of confusion he was still feeling, despite his want to be able to be there for them. “it’s me sabine, it’s me, i’m here for you,” but he needed answers, and her response wasn’t the easiest to process. 

seven years. the thought of that loss of time– it hadn’t helped his jumbled mind. he blinked under his mask, having no words as they pulled his hand closer. until– “we won?” he questioned softly, as if not believing it. it was hard to– knowing how much they had lost. his hand met hers, squeezing it in his own, “kriff– we did?”

“Kanan, I-- I’m not sure how to ex-explain. I,” their breath caught in her throat, something in her lungs hitching and spiking. Pressure mounted in their chest and her hands trembled in anxiety. “Okay, uh,” her voice cracked. She didn’t have enough strength to do this...But the warmth of their father’s hand in her own was something to focus on. Something real.

“I-in my time, the Empire fell a few years ago, and...and something happened in the Force. I don’t--I don’t know how, exactly, but time got messed up. Some people were brought f-forward from the past, and some. Some back from the future. Some people that had died--” They shook their head violently, remembering every nightmare and flashback of--no! That wasn’t him! He was here. This wasn’t a dream. “Kanan, I thought you were... Hera, Zeb, Ezra, we...we thought you were gone.”

@xspectre-1​ // Kanan Jarrus

as soon as kanan heard her voice, it was clear that questioning wasn’t necessary. a little older– more hardened, perhaps, but it was sabine. he wouldn’t even question the fact that his hand had to be raised higher than he remembered. instead, arms moved to wrap around her, her own distress clear enough. 

as if she hadn’t seen him in years. 

regardless, as she spoke he slowly pulled away, desperate for some sort of answer. an  explanation for what the hell had just happened. 

lothal, that he knew it was… why, why he wasn’t on the same lothal. “i, i know that– last i remember you, ezra and zeb had just left– i was going after hera,” he blinked under his mask, trying to make sense of all of this himself. 

His arms engulfed them in a warm embrace, and she stiffened, then melted into his side. They didn’t worry about the tears staining his shirt, didn’t care that their face was buried into his neck. He was real. He was back, and he was real. She knew so many people the Rift had brought through time (for better or worse), but this? This was nothing short of a miracle.

“Kanan,” she muttered, breaking away, but still drinking in his image. He was the same as they remembered. Messy hair, hand-painted mask, dirt-crusted boots. Here she was now, holding onto his hand, still on her cheek, like a lost child. “I can’t believe it’s you. I-- I mean. I.” They paused, taking in a breath. How do you explain that you’ve missed your parent for years, while he’s only missed a beat? “Kanan, that was...over seven years ago.” She let his fingers cup her cheek, smiling through tears. “We won. Our family, the whole Rebellion. Buir, we won.”

@xspectre-1​ // Kanan Jarrus

closed starter // @call-me-spectre-five​ // sabine wren

finding himself on lothal wasn’t the surprise, flashes of memories would have brought him there regardless. the surprise was rooted in something far more confusing. things were different from what kanan last remembered, he couldn’t place it but– well, he was certainly lost here. 

not that it was much of a concern to the blind knight. his focus was on hera– knowing she had been captured, knowing she had been captured and that he wasn’t on that lothal– the distress associated was perhaps somewhat overwhelming. 

but with, admittedly directionless, wandering, he had been surprised to sense– sabine??

it was enough to pull his attention, and enough of a feeling to drag the jedi aimlessly in a new direction, further from the city but perhaps closer to an answer. 

as he neared, he could feel she had noticed him– not that the force was needed for as much, their relationship based in more than that– “sabine?” he questioned, a hand reaching to feel at her head as if it wasn’t the young mandalorian he was acutely familiar with, “what’s– what’s happening?”

The rotations had been unforgiving of late. Lothal’s single sun burned bright, with little precipitation to relieve the plains near Capital City. It had been a short stay, but long enough for silent reflection. Ezra’s tower had been restored after Imperial presence was wiped out, and the Mandalorian often found themself returning for a few days at a time, watching over the small planet from above. It was secluded, out of the way, and by all means, a perfect resting spot for someone who wanted to be alone. But today, as a dark cloud rolled over the city, Sabine spotted something-- someone-- walking the field toward her makeshift encampment. 

Could that be--?

The turbolift couldn’t take her to ground level fast enough, but when it did, she could do little but gasp in surprise. Removing their helmet in a hurry, Sabine met his hand with her own, then raised it a few inches to their cheek, where tears were starting to blossom in her eyes.

“Kanan?”

It had been years, but here he was, the man who had for so long acted like a buir to them. Here he was, back where it had all changed, but this time, she had found him.

“I-it’s me, Sabine.” They longed to reassure him that everything was okay, that he was okay, but neither would have believed it. She wanted to wrap their arms around him in an embrace, to never let go, but stopped in an attempt to avoid overwhelming the already flummoxed man. “I’m here, Kanan. You’re on Lothal. What do you remember?”