Not often did the rebels get a chance to sit down and relax, so when they did no one passed up the opportunity. Everyone had collapsed in different seats in the common room on the Ghost. Zeb was making modifications to his rifle, and Sabine was painting over a few scratches from their more recent battles. Ezra didn't really know what to do, so he was kind of just watching everyone else. Kanan and Hera were just talking about nothing in particular.

Chopper rolled through the doors, waving something and grunting to get Sabine's attention. She looked up and reached out for the blue paint canister he had brought her. "Thanks, Chop. Where did you find it?"

According to him, it had been under the turret gunner seat. Sabine groaned and shook her head. "I wonder how it got there," she mumbled and disconnected her arm forearm armor plates. "At least I have it now." She twisted the aerosol sprayer onto the paint can and got to work.

Ezra, who had nothing better to do, asked, "Hey Sabine, the designs on your armor, do they mean anything? Or are they just there because they look cool?"

"They're distracting, is what they are," Zeb complained. "You could spot that from a mile away."

"Excuse me, it's not my fault I'm the only one with a bit of artistic talent around here!" She fired back, pausing her work to address him. "And believe it or not, yes, some of the designs do have meaning. Like this one." She lifted up the guard she was working on and showed him blue and white chevron stripes she was repainting.

Ezra tried, he really did, to make sense of what the stripes were supposed to be, but he had no idea. "I don't get it."

Sabine smiled, resting the armor back on her lap and shaking her can again. "I guess I haven't told you yet, have I?"

"Oh, not this again," came Zeb's groan, but Ezra was interested. He liked hearing stories.

"These stripes represent a story every kid on Mandalore knows," she began, staring fondly at her work. "During the end of the Republic Era, Mandalore was controlled by a military overlord by the name of Maul. He was cruel and harsh and had no respect for Mandalorian culture. Several clans defected under his rule and wanted to restore authority to a rightful ruler."

Kanan and Hera, by this time, had overheard their conversation and stopped talking. They both knew the story as well (Sabine was fond of telling it) but it was a good story. Hera didn't appreciate it quite in the way that Sabine did, but she could enjoy it. Kanan, on the other hand, just listened without speaking.

"They called upon a Republic General, one who had been trusted by the previous Duchess of Mandalore, Satine Kryze. Together, they rallied rebels from all over Mandalore as well as clone troopers from Coruscant, and they attacked the capital. They chased Maul away from the planet and laid waste to his armies, liberating the planet from his rule."

Sabine smiled at Ezra, who was listening with wide eyes. It was nice to have at least someone who appreciated the story as she did. "Lady Bo-Katan made sure that every Mandalorian knew the legend of Ahsoka Tano, no matter who they were. A lot of little girls born afterwards were named Ahsoka, even though it wasn't a Mandalorian name. She's an idol for every person who wants to do good in this galaxy." Sabine paused, then spoke quietly. "She's the reason I'm fighting the Empire. I wouldn't be surprised if she's doing the same right now."

"Yeah, yeah," Zeb yawned and earned a nasty glare from the Mandalorian. "Don't get me wrong, it's a good story, but it kind of loses its touch after the first ten times."

Ezra handed the armor back to Sabine, who silently returned to her work. "Well, it's the first time I've heard it. I wish I had a story like that. It's cool to hear about an actual real hero."

Crossing her arms, Hera leaned up against the counter. "Well, it's not like there haven't been other heroes. Kanan could tell yo-"

Kanan was gone. Somehow, without anyone else noticing, he had left the room. Chopper asked where he went, but Zeb just chuckled.

"He's probably just off doing his own thing. You know, Jedi and all."

Hera wondered where he had gone but Ezra started bantering with Zeb again, and she felt compelled to make sure nothing got broken this time so she forgot about it.

Sabine just dialed in on her armor. It didn't matter if Zeb thought the story had gotten old, General Tano was her hero, not his. She wished she could be that selfless, that brave, to be able to fight so hard for a people she didn't even know. It was one thing to fight for your own people, but for strangers who might not have deserved it? That was a true hero. Sabine didn't want to die, but if she did, she wanted to do three things first: save her friends, save Mandalore, and save others. Just like General Tano.

~

Kanan had stolen away to his room where he wouldn't have to listen to Sabine's hero story again. It wasn't that he didn't like it, he liked it a lot. In fact, he liked it so much, it was too painful to listen to again.

He had never told Sabine, and he never planned to, but there was more to her story than she was sharing. It wasn't her fault that she didn't know, but there were details that only people who knew Ahsoka Tano, really knew her, would know. Things like: Ahsoka was a Togruta, and those stripes were the same ones that were on her montrals. Ahsoka had been a Jedi but left long before the Siege of Mandalore. Ahsoka was smart, and strategic, and powerful, and funny, and even more selfless than Sabine could ever know. She was a good mentor and teacher and was really good at comforting people. She was a very talented dueler and was proficient at holding not one, but two lightsabers at once. She hadn't just fought Maul, but Asajj Ventress, General Grievous, Barriss Offee, Hondo the Pirate, the Trandoshans, the Zyggerians, and countless other people, and none of them had been able to kill her. Not to mention, she had trashed thousands of battle droids during the Clone War.

The most important, and most painful, part? Ahsoka Tano had been his friend. She had shown him what it meant to be a Padawan in the Jedi Order, and what respect towards the clone troopers was. She had been the one he had turned to when the Jedi Masters and Knights had disappeared and there was no one else to help them. She had been a safe place to confide in when he was experiencing emotions that he knew were not right for a Jedi to have. She was the reason he had become friends with his own clone troopers, and why their betrayal had hurt him so much.

If he had been friends with them, Ahsoka had been so much more than that. He had seen firsthand their loyalty to her, how much they trusted her and how much she trusted them back. He had been so hurt when his troopers had killed his master, but to think of Ahsoka, who was considered a sister to them, and to know that they had pulled the trigger at her? That was what crushed his soul. It was one thing for them to kill the Jedi, but how could they kill the closest friend they had? She hadn't even been a Jedi, so why had she been caught in the crossfire? Why had he survived and she hadn't?

His heart had broken when he had seen the news report that declared she had been killed after the Siege of Mandalore. Kanan doubted that Sabine even knew, or if anyone on Mandalore had been told about her death. Maybe some of the leaders like Lady Kryze knew, but Sabine talked about her with such fondness that he doubted anyone had told her that her idol was a martyr.

Sabine's story was good, but it glossed right over the most important parts. She may have heard about Ahsoka's accomplishment at the Siege of Mandalore, but that wasn't who she had been. That was what mattered to Caleb. That wasn't just some general who had died that day, that was Ahsoka Tano, his mentor, his protector, his friend.

No, not Caleb, Kanan, he reminded himself. He took a breath and remembered who he was now. Caleb Dume wasn't supposed to exist anymore. There was no one who remembered him that way except for Hera. He stood up and walked out of his cabin towards the ramp, forgetting the past.

Besides, Ahsoka wouldn't want him to hang on to what used to be, even if it was her. She would want him to keep moving and to help protect people as she had. It was the least he could do to honor her memory. She probably never got a decent funeral, but she was a martyr and Kanan would carry on her legacy even if no one else did.

He descended down the ramp and looked back up at the ship. Everyone else had settled down for the evening, but while he was alone Kanan wanted to train for a while. Not with Ezra, who was already asleep, but by himself. If the Inquisitor showed up again, which was likely, he needed to be ready.

The Republic had proven Ahsoka hadn't been the Inquisitor, but it still made Kanan think of her. There were a lot of similarities, which explained the accusations. A Force-using teenage Togruta had been rare enough as it was during the Clone War, but Kanan hadn't even seen a Togruta since the Jedi Purge, except maybe once or twice while passing a bar or something. Maybe Ahsoka was dead, but her lessons were less so.

Start with your basic sequences, he heard her say as memories started floating back to him. Think of it like stretching. Nearly everything you do will be some variation of the movements you make during sequences. Always make sure you're brushed up on your fundamentals.

Why? Kanan had once asked her.

I'm not sure, but Master Skywalker sure says it often, had been the answer. He smiled as he activated his lightsaber. Breathing deeply, he began running through the sequences.

Internally, he could hear Depa counting him off as he went. One... two... three... four... five... six... seven. Again. He repeated the sequence before switching his hand placement. It felt good to let his muscle memory take over, kind of like it had with the Wookies.

Maintain your balance! Depa scolded him in his mind as he felt himself leaning back a little. Kanan grinned. He had gotten much taller than he had been as a teenager, but even then he found himself getting pushed behind his center of gravity. He widened the space between his feet, giving himself a larger base to use. I know you cannot control your height, she went on, but you need to learn to accomodate for it.

Technically, she had said that last bit when he was struggling with how short he was, but now he was using it for the opposite reason. He started the sequence he was on over, making sure to keep his body as stable as possible.

When he finished with that, just for old times sake, Kanan flipped his lightsaber half a rotation and practiced one of Ahsoka's reverse-grip stroke sequences. He didn't need to, as he hardly used it in a duel, but it was a nice trick to have. She had taught it to him more as a time-filler, but he enjoyed it if only for the challenge it presented. To this day, he still didn't know how she fought with a reverse grip for so long so well, but it had definitely worked for her.

As he completed the sequence, he found himself wishing that she, or anyone else from the Jedi Order, was with him. This wasn't the first time the desire had washed over him, but it was for a different reason right now. It was difficult training by yourself. Kanan wished he had someone to duel against, someone who could push him and watch his movements for things he needed to correct. Or maybe just a dueling partner, no correction needed. Ezra didn't have his own lightsaber, and he couldn't keep up with Kanan. Not yet, anyway.

Instead, he put his lightsaber away and kneeled on the ground. If he couldn't train against a live target, he could go over his memories of the Inquisitor and try to strategize for the next duel. Clearing his mind, another one of Ahsoka's tips came back to him: All movement will start from a central area, usually the chest or the pelvis. If you watch carefully and quickly, you can track a movement from the center of the body to the limbs and anticipate your opponent's attack.

At the time, Kanan had been nowhere close to acheiving what Ahsoka had suggested, but he might be able to now. He remembered how he had fought the Inquisitor, and in retrospect, he focused on the chest first.

He could kind of see what she was saying. In order to maximize the strength of a strike, the Inquisitor would contract his abdomen to get as much power behind the hit as possible. He could almost see the muscles tighten along his chest, through his arm before he moved his lightsaber. Even on some of his more delicate and concealed attacks, the hilt of the lightsaber would move before the blade. It was basic physics, but it was definitely worth noting.

Still, Kanan couldn't afford to lose track of the blade either, and especially not when there were two of them. That was going to be difficult, but they still both protruded from a central spot. At least now Kanan knew and was going to expect it the next time a duel happened. It was better than nothing.

Retreating out of his mind, Kanan opened his eyes and looked up at the night sky. Somewhere, Depa and Ahsoka were out there, right? He didn't know much about the Cosmic Force, but he did know some sort of afterlife existed. Depa would probably have known and could have told him if she wasn't there already.

There were a lot of things Kanan would have asked her if he knew she was going to die. Not just about teaching and having an apprentice, but lots of things. The Cosmic Force, battle strategies (particularly ones that small squads could pull off), more about how to see visions clearly, things that he hopefully would have learned before becoming a Knight.

And maybe...if he had known, he would have just asked about...her. What she liked to do to relax, what made her laugh, what her best memory was, what it was like for her to be a Padawan. What was the best mission she had ever been on? Who were her friends growing up? What was it like to study under Mace Windu? What was the worst injury she ever got on a mission? What had been her emphasis during her Padawan studies? What did she really think of Kanan, or Caleb, as she had known him? Of all the questions Kanan had asked as a kid, he hadn't asked about any of those things.

Now he would never get the chance to. It wasn't that his life had changed so much that hurt him, but it was all the things he would never get to do because of the Jedi Purge. He wasn't mourning what had been, but he was grieving the loss of what might have been. His Knighthood, a victorious ending of the Clone War, and peace in the galaxy. Maybe Kanan would have become a mentor to another Padawan like Ahsoka had done for him. Maybe Ezra would still be a Youngling and Kanan would be training him in the temple instead of on Lothal. Maybe Ahsoka would have changed her mind and come back to the Jedi Order.

That wasn't reality, though. That wasn't what Kanan was facing right now. He sighed, but he held onto the one thing he had retained from his ideal future: he was training Ezra. He had an apprentice, despite still being one himself. No matter how much had been lost, he had to remember what he did have. He had Hera, and Zeb, and Sabine, and Ezra, and Chopper. Their life wasn't easy, it wasn't comfortable or legal, but it was good and that was enough.

It is enough.