When the Phantom arrived at Chopper Base, the rest of the Ghost crew, Rex, and a small crew of medics were waiting for the Jedi. Ezra helped Kanan walk out of the ship, and Hera was the first to run up to them. Anakin had found a medical blind and had fitted it over Kanan's face so no one could see the scar, but Hera's face fell anyway. She examined his face before pulling him close in a hug.

Ezra stood back and looked at Sabine and Zeb. He stood by them and watched as the medics began to address Kanan. Hera let them do her job, but she refused to leave his side.

"How is he?" Sabine asked quietly, unsure of how Ezra would respond.

"Could be worse," he answered, his eyes trained on Hera and Kanan as they were escorted to the medical wing. "We got lucky. The burn wasn't that deep, and Master Skywalker was able to help him afterward."

Zeb rested a hand on his shoulder. "At least you all made it back in one piece. Come on, Hera will take care of him." They walked together toward the Ghost, not saying a word. Ezra wasn't complaining. It was nearly sunset at the base, and despite his efforts, he hadn't been able to sleep on the flight home.

Behind Anakin, Chopper activated the Phantom's engines again and left to park the shuttle with the Ghost. Rex walked up next to him while they were watching. "You alright?"

"I've been better," he admitted, crossing his arms. "It went less well than I was hoping for."

"I figured that much," Rex noted, glancing back at Kanan. "What can I do?"

Anakin shook his head, a little frustrated but not wanting to take it out on Rex. "There isn't much to do. As soon as Kanan gets checked and I send a report to the council, it's back to business as usual."

Rex wasn't a medic, and he couldn't give a report on a mission he didn't go on, but he was a commander. "Well, I can help with one of those things. I'll let Commander Sato know you've landed. If you get to the Rogue, you can send your transmission from there... and maybe you should get some sleep while you're at it," he suggested. "You look tired."

"That's the best idea I've heard in a while," he agreed, laughing a little bit. "Thanks, Rex."

"Anytime, sir," he assured him. Rex walked off, knowing the Jedi would likely want some time to think before he got to work. There was no point in rushing a Jedi with something on their mind.

Looking out beyond the base, Anakin caught a glimpse of the sensor beacon barrier and a few spiders pacing around it. Except for a few scratches and bruises, he had returned from Malachor unscathed, but his mind was another matter. The stress alone was enough to be going on with, but his first mission as a Jedi Master had not been uneventful in the slightest.

He hadn't voiced his concerns to the other Jedi, but that didn't mean they weren't there. The Inquisitors, Darth Jadis, and Maul had said things that had significant implications for the future. Kanan and Ezra would need time to recover, but Anakin wouldn't need as much, making him the most qualified person to address those implications. The first step was talking with the Rebellion council, or at least alerting them.

Without another moment's delay, he made for the Rogue. No one was on board except for Artoo, who greeted him excitedly. Anakin smiled. "Yeah, I'm alright. Good to see you too, buddy."

He kneeled down and rested a hand on the astromech, letting Artoo see him for a little bit. "Listen, I've got to make a call. Do you think you can patch me into the council?"

Whistling, he turned and got to work, preparing the transmission. Anakin sat down and thought about what he wanted to say so that by the time Artoo was ready, so was he. As soon as Artoo signaled, he began the report.

"The mission to Malachor was inconclusive. Information regarding the Empire, its agents, and others were found, but no assets were gained. I can attest that Darth Jadis used to be Barriss Offee. Another Inquisitor has been identified: the Eighth Brother, formerly Jinx Daru. The Fifth Brother and the Seventh Sister have been killed, but I don't know what became of the Eighth Brother. I will confirm or deny later. Maul is still alive. He does not claim to support the Empire, but he is not to be considered an ally. His location and status are unknown, as is that of the Imperial personnel we met on Malachor."

He paused, intending to end the message, but he added one last comment: "The Eighth Brother's past identity should be disclosed with caution." That was specifically for Bail Organa, who would recognize Anakin was talking about O-Mer. He deserved to know what happened to Jinx, but he didn't know how he would react to the truth. Whether Bail decided to tell O-Mer or not wasn't up to Anakin, but a warning was probably in order.

Anakin ended the recording and nodded to Artoo, who sent the information to the council. Not moving, he watched the droid work silently, absentmindedly. The words seemed a lot more real now that he had said them out loud.

When he was done, Artoo asked if Anakin was going to turn in for the evening. "I will soon, but I'm going to check on Kanan before I do," he decided, standing up. "Let me know if the council responds."

The droid beeped in affirmation, then warned Anakin not to stay up too late. "Okay, buddy, thanks," he laughed, standing up. "Don't worry. I'll be back soon."

~

In a few minutes, he was granted permission to visit Kanan's bunk in the medical center. Hera was sitting next to him, and neither of them was speaking. "Knock knock," he said, announcing his presence.

They both looked happy to see him, but their joy was short-lived. Anakin knew better than to take it personally. "What did they say?"

"Nothing you hadn't already guessed," Kanan reported. "There isn't anything they can do for my sight, but they don't see any problems cropping up in the future."

"The good news is that the wound isn't infected," Hera added, quoting the medic that had explained the situation to them earlier. "Whatever you did with the Force sealed it up before it could get worse."

Kanan reached around the table next to his bunk before finding his bandage and putting it back on his face. "They want me to stay here for a rotation or so, just to keep an eye on it."

Nodding, Anakin knew there wasn't any fighting the matter. In his book, the medic had the final say in excusing patients. Not that he was in charge. "Can't say I blame them. I'm just glad you won't have to stay longer."

"All thanks to you," he reminded him. "Seriously, thank you. This could have been a lot worse if you weren't there."

"It's what I'm here for. It's the least I could do." He sighed, glancing away momentarily. "I just wish it hadn't happened in the first place."

"Join the club."

"If you're cracking jokes, the wound's obviously not that bad," Anakin teased, making Kanan laugh. Hera wasn't as amused as they were.

When they were finished, she asked, "What happens now?"

Shrugging, Anakin didn't give a straight answer. "I don't know. I don't think anything is set in stone, and I get the feeling this is going to be a transition phase for a lot of people. There may not be an answer to your question at the moment."

"I'll be alright, Hera," Kanan assured her, but that didn't seem to help.

"We're all going to be alright, but that doesn't tell us what we should do."

"No one will, Captain," Anakin advised her. "I imagine Commander Sato may have a suggestion, but that's not up to him or me. You need to decide that with your team."

That clearly wasn't the dry-cut answer Hera wanted. Kanan, on the other hand, knew Anakin well enough by now to read between the lines. "Do you have a suggestion?"

"I do, but your decision comes first. It's my job to support your choice, not to influence it."

He thought for a moment, not speaking. It was hard to tell what was running through his mind without seeing his eyes. After a while, Hera squeezed his hand, trying to comfort him. In the end, Kanan sighed, frustrated. "I have no idea. My head, it's all... it's all noisy."

That was enough for Anakin. "Then I think that's the first step. Take your time recovering, as much as you need to. Gather your bearings after Malachor and do a mental factory reset. After something as traumatic as this, it'll take a while, but I believe you can get there."

"It wasn't that bad," Kanan objected. "You said so yourself: it could have been a lot worse. Nobody died. At least, none of us died."

"Trauma isn't about death. It's about stress. Just because it could have been worse doesn't mean it wasn't bad." He thought for a moment, then added, "That goes for Ezra, too. I don't know exactly how he'll respond to all this, but he's going to need some extra support for the next few weeks, as much as the team can offer."

Hera nodded, grateful for the warning. "I'll see what I can do."

~

Once again, Ezra found it hard to sleep that night. It didn't matter how long he laid in the dark. His mind wouldn't shut off. It wasn't that he was thinking about something specific, but the eerie silence in his head wasn't comforting either. Eventually, after several hours, he gave up and snuck out of his cabin without waking Zeb, leaving the Ghost.

While it was still dark, he walked out to a hill near the edge of the base and sat by himself, watching a few droids and people work through the night while everyone else slept. He wanted to go be with Kanan, but he didn't think the medics would appreciate it if he snuck in. Besides, Hera would probably tell him to go back to sleep. It wasn't that he didn't want to sleep, but he couldn't.

He couldn't really figure out exactly what was keeping him awake. It probably wasn't the Inquisitors; he had seen them before. Well, most of them. Ezra hadn't met the Twi'lek Inquisitor before. Still, he hadn't expected Maul to kill the other two.

Maul... he felt the same way the other Inquisitors had: Dark and cold, and so harsh. Ezra didn't like the memory of it, although, at the moment, the icy cold might have been better than the numbness he felt now. At least he would have felt something.

Then there was Jadis. Ezra should be impressed by Master Skywalker's dueling skills, but he couldn't stop thinking about her golden eyes, staring into his mind. He remembered that Kanan had once been held prisoner by the Grand Inquisitor, and while that surely had been horrible, he imagined it would have been much worse if Kanan had been tortured by Jadis instead. Even a minute or so with her had been too much for Ezra.

In fact, all of it had been too much for Ezra. It was clear, in retrospect, that he had been out of his depth. Kanan and Master Skywalker should have gone without him. He didn't know why they had let him come in the first place. Yeah, he was a Jedi, but being a Jedi wasn't enough. He hadn't done much to help them, and he created more problems than he solved. He hadn't protected them. He hadn't found anything that could help protect his friends, or the Rebellion, or Lothal, or anyone. If he couldn't do that, then what was the point of being a Jedi? What was the point of all of this?

The sun crept over the horizon, and Ezra felt the warmth hit his back. He looked down at his hands, then down at his side where his lightsaber was supposed to be. Even his weapon was destroyed. What kind of Padawan was he? What kind of Padawan could mess up so badly?