Ask The Ranger and Revenge

[Song Wren]

A Sector Ranger. The words burned, a searing flame to her skin, and she couldn’t help but shoot a glance towards Kanan, suddenly afraid. Not of what he might do, but what she might do—of what might happen next. If this was true, she couldn’t…

No, she thought bitterly. This can’t be real.

“You’re lying,” she said to Demidov, and the knife in her hand tightened. “You were talking to someone. A woman.”

The man noticed the way she held her knife and trembled. “That woman was my wife. Please, you must understand, I had nothing to do with your brother’s murder other than having hired him. This isn’t my fault.”

She searched his eyes again for something, anything, that resembled deception. And again, she found nothing. Song had long been in the company of liars and cheats, swindlers and gamblers, and she could always spot one by just a few words, but Demidov was not one of them. This wasn’t a hoax or a trick. This was the cold, terrible truth she didn’t want to believe existed. This was reality.

Anger rushed through her, and unable to resist, desperate to unleash her rage, she hurled her knife toward Demidov’s head.

“No!” he screamed, then fell silent.

The edge barely missed him by an centimeter. It had dug itself into the wall, right above his ear, drawing a tiny trickle of blood. Demidov’s eyes bulged, mouth slightly agape. He looked like he’d just about wet his pants in terror.

“Keep it,” she spat. “As a reminder, and as a warning.”

The man’s breath stuttered, clearly in shock. She didn’t care. She would have loved to kill him, relished in at least a taste of revenge for his involvement in River’s death, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Not with his daughter under this roof, not with his wife.

But this Ranger, this Amita Ghafa? She would not be so merciful.

“Let’s go,” she said to Kanan, but didn’t even look at him as she did. Song couldn’t bear to. She wasn’t sure if she could look at any Ranger the same way ever again.

@llamallove

 

[Kanan Marek]

Their presence was no secret now. Blaster fire had awakened the whole house, and any guards remaining (that River or Kanan had not knocked unconscious) had descended upon them. Kanan did not know how many there were, but he did know he and River were outnumbered and would have to move soon.

He did not attempt to rush River through his task, however. As unreadable as the Mandalorian was beneath that beskar armor and helmet, the ranger was sure River’s head had to be reeling. With shock? Worry? His brother worked for Demidov. Perhaps this meant he wasn’t the man River had thought he was. His last contact a Sector Ranger. It was a lot to process. Still, he didn’t protest when River declared his desire to leave.

A blaster bolt tore past the ranger, narrowly missing his arm. “Gladly,” Kanan replied, taking careful aim at the ceiling. One shot brought the hallway’s large candlelit chandelier crashing down, and luxurious red carpet erupted into flames. It was not a large fire, but it would buy River and Kanan enough time to escape without having to worry about blaster bolts raining down on their heads.

Rushing to the room’s windows and their only way of escape now, Kanan swiftly broke the glass from the largest window. He looked at River and gestured toward the broken window. “After you.”

@Feng Mian

 

[Song Wren]

Enemy crossfire lit up the room, and the smell of burnt wood and iron was thick in the air, filling her nostrils. A chandelier shattered into the floor. Fire began to eat away at the fine floral rugs scattered across the floor. And what did Song think of it all? Nothing. She was numb to the chaos, the disaster of what was meant to be a secret mission. Even as Demidov was curled up in a ball clutching his head, she didn’t bat an eye.

She was too busy looking at Kanan. Too busy watching the Ranger she thought she knew like the back of her hand. Why did things have to get so complicated?

Song said nothing as she leapt from the broken window. After the rush of wind and gravity, she slammed into the grass, not bothering to roll and cushion her fall. Her legs felt shaky, but fine. She wasn’t worried about her physical condition. This was something on the inside. Something worse.

“Try to keep up,” she said, but the words didn’t hold the same mirth they had the first time. It was empty, cold.

Alarms blared over the mansion grounds. Song charged through the sound—running over flower beds and manicured bushes, under statues of angels and sweet plum trees. She ran past everything, and into the dark comfort of the nearby forest. And even when that boundary was crossed, she kept running, as if she could escape the thoughts of River hounding her mind. Thoughts of his smile, his laugh. Thoughts of Kanan shooting him through the skull.

He has nothing to do with this, she told herself. It didn’t help.

Eventually, she stopped in a clearing of the forest, the sound of alarms too distant to be heard. There was only the trill of insects, birds nesting the canopy. Silence.

@llamallove

 

[Kanan Marek]

Kanan wondered why River hadn’t cushioned his fall, just before jumping. He followed the Mandalorian out the window, descending to the grass lawn quickly. He put his feet together, made contact with the ground, and rolled to one side. Just like he’d done a thousand times. Nothing broken.

He was back on his feet instantly and turned toward River to ask if he had hurt himself. River’s tone was cold, however, and as he began to run across the lawn, Kanan had to assume he was not hurt.

As they ran across the lawn and through the gardens, the ranger glanced back over his shoulder toward the mansion. There was no one in the window, and no one was pursuing them. At least not yet. He didn’t want to stick around to find out.

River ran like a mad man. As if they were being pursued by a hundred acklay back on Felucia. Kanan wondered if he was running from Demidov’s goons or... something else.

They ran into the forest, past trees, over fallen logs, and through bushes, neither of them missing a single step. Only the sound of snapping branches and the crunch of fallen leaves beneath their feet filled the air. Then they reached a clearing, and River stopped.

Once in the clearing, Kanan could see his Mandalorian friend more clearly with the help of the moonlight. He wasn’t sure River wanted to talk, but he had to ask anyway. “What happened back there... are you okay?” he asked, catching his breath.

@Feng Mian

 

[Song Wren]

Song couldn’t contain the tremble in her breath—from grief or exhaustion, she had no idea which. Images continued to flash across her vision. Every time she shut her eyes, there was River’s smile as he roasted a spit of hare, or as his training blade met hers in the field of snow, or as they spiked their father's porridge with a sedative herb.

Then there was Kanan's face, surrounded by the cellophane flowers and bioluminescent trees of Felucia. But instead of shooting acklay, the Ranger was shooting her brother in the back, over and over again.

Stop it, a voice cried. Stop it.

But fury, like the spark of a flame, jumped into her throat. Something inside of her snapped, and the next thing she knew, Song whirled on Kanan, grabbing him by the shoulders. With unnatural strength, she slammed him against a willow tree bowed in mourning, its bark cracking at the force her shove, its low-hanging vines swaying around them.

“Did you know?” she hissed. “Did you know that one of your own killed my brother?”

Song didn’t know what had possessed her, and she wasn’t sure how the Ranger might react. In fact, she wasn’t sure what to feel anymore. All she felt was rage, an anger fueled by heartache, a desperation for answers. Had Kanan known one of his colleagues was responsible for her brother’s death? Had he been involved? What was he possibly hiding?

@llamallove

 

[Kanan Marek]

Nothing. Kanan’s question went unanswered. River just stood there, silent. Unmoving. The ranger had no idea what was running through the Mandalorian’s head at that moment. He could imagine, but that was all.

The silence stretched out between them. Uncomfortable at first, and then unsettling. The ranger wasn’t sure what to say or do. He just stood there, staring at the Mandalorian in the moonlight.

Suddenly, River did what the ranger least expected him to do. Moving swiftly, the Mandalorian seized Kanan by the shoulders and shoved him into a nearby willow tree with a surprising amount of strength, even for him. The sound of a large crack filled Kanan’s head, and he wondered if that was the willow tree or his back. He really hoped it was the tree.

The ranger had been unable to react to the attack. River had moved quickly, and Kanan had had no time to react. He was surprised and confused and, although he would have never admitted it, more than a little bit hurt by the outburst.

The pain of the blow, both to his person and to his pride, contorted his face into a glare, and he finally reacted. “Of course I didn’t know,” he growled, shoving the Mandalorian. “You think I’d be here if I knew? You think I would I offer to help you?”

Angrily, he swatted one of the low-hanging vines away, accidentally snapping it in half. “Besides, you don’t know that it was a Sector Ranger that killed your brother.

He wanted to add, “You don’t know that your brother didn’t deserve it,” but he held his tongue. “All Demidov said was that was his last known contact. That hardly is proof of guilt.”

@Feng Mian

 

[Song Wren]

“Yes, his last contact,” she spat. “My brother found whoever Demidov was looking for, fell off the grid, and the next thing we know, he’s reported dead. How is that not proof enough?”

She pointed an accusatory finger at him, but backed away, if only to stop herself from throwing him against the tree a second time. “Demidov said someone was leading an investigation on him, raiding his depots. One of the most powerful crime syndicates in the galaxy. Who else would be stupid enough to attack someone like that other than your noble Sector Rangers? Your fledgling Republic?”

Song hated how much she was sounding like her father. His disgust for the Core Worlds, his blind hatred for anything, anyone, not Mandalorian. But maybe he’d been right about them. About everything.

She slowed her breathing. In the short silence that followed, her anger dissolved into the night, and she couldn’t resist looking up to the stars, beyond the clearing of trees, where the moon hung in solemn grief.

“Do you know how my family found him?” she whispered. “A broken arm. A split ankle. Knife wounds in his gut and neck, right between the cracks of his armor. The strikes were clean, professional.”

She sighed a ragged breath. “Clan Wren had spent weeks searching for his body, for this armor. And the thing is, they never did find him. Our best trackers come up with nothing. But one day, we’d tracked a ship outside one of the outposts. It was gone when we arrived, but there he was. Laying in the snow. Mangled by battle, but untouched, as if whoever killed him had hoped for us to give him a proper funeral.”

Even behind a tinted visor, a helmet made of pure beskar, she struggled to look Kanan in the eye. “It’s why the rest of my clan chose not to hunt for them. Honor, they said. Tradition. They respected the noble warrior who’d managed to defeat a Mandalorian, who’d been generous enough to return his body.”

“But I didn’t want his corpse,” she murmured. “I wanted my brother back.”

@llamallove

 

[Kanan Marek]

“Last known contact,” Kanan rebutted, his dark brown eyes narrowing. “You still have no proof.”

Loathing and disgust dripped from every word River spoke, and it angered the ranger. Disgust for his brother’s killer, disgust for the Sector Rangers, and disgust for Kanan.

Kanan had never approved of bounty hunters. More often than not they got in his way. They did not seek justice or the good of others. They were in it for the credits, the glory. They were selfish. The same selfishness Kanan had seen in himself as a young man and despised so deeply.

But River had made him rethink all of that. River was different than any other bounty hunter he’d ever met. Any other man he’d ever met. River risked his own life for others—for Kanan. On that backwater planet in the Outer-Rim that he couldn’t even remember the name of. In the jungles of Felucia. In that casino on Taris.

He trusted River, fully, with his life. The divide that had existed between them when they had first met was gone, erased by the sweat on their brows, the blood they had spilled together, and the adventures they had shared. At least, that’s what Kanan thought. Perhaps he was wrong. Perhaps the divide would never go away.

Shaking away the unexpected sadness these thoughts brought upon him, he rolled his shoulders and neck, a half-hearted attempt to ease the pain coursing through his back.

As River’s words turned to a whisper, Kanan couldn’t help but watch him in silence. Every word he spoke, every movement he made revealed the pain and sorrow he experienced and continued to experience at the loss of his brother. No armor could hide that. With such a rocky relationship with his father, River must have felt alone that day they discovered his brother dead in the snow.

As angry as the ranger was at that moment, he couldn’t help but feel empathy for the Mandalorian—for the friend in front of him.

“Look,” Kanan began, unsure of what to say, as he took a cautious step toward River. Still finding his words, he continued. “Let’s just take it one step at a time. We don’t know who is responsible for your brother’s death or the circumstances surrounding it, but... we’ll find out.”

Carefully, unsure of how River would react, Kanan reached a hand out to place on the Mandalorian’s shoulder.

@Feng Mian

 

[Song Wren]

There was a phrase River always used to say to her in Mando’a.

K’atini. Suck it up.

It had been an inside joke between them. During mountain hunts, when the winter winds cut through their tents and had them shivering through the night, he’d say it from his bedroll. K’atini. During training, when their knuckles bled and bruised purple, he would whisper it into her ear. K’atini. During their trials, when she received a concussion and he broke his arm, they’d mumble to each other. K’atini.

Somehow, it had always managed to cheer her up, to soothe and numb the pain. So why was it whenever she said it now, pain was all she felt? Why did it feel like her soul was being pulled apart at the very thought of the word?

When Kanan reached for her shoulder, Song pulled away. “Don’t.”

She couldn’t stop thinking of River. Every time she closed her eyes, he was there—his rotting corpse lying rigid in the snow, black eyes looking distantly into the clouds, skin pale and porcelain. So fragile. Song couldn’t stop thinking of his death, of his killer. She couldn’t ignore the possibility, the fact, a Ranger was responsible.

“There’s no we, Kanan. Not anymore. I’m going to track down this Amita Ghafa. I’m going to make sure she’s the one, and then I’m going to kill her. You’re welcome to try and stop me, but you can’t change my mind. Nothing will.”

Song took a step back. She didn’t want to fight him. Not here, not now. But she would do what she’d have to—for justice, for revenge, for River.

@llamallove

 

[Kanan Marek]

So this is what it had come to. They were at odds again, on opposite sides of the law. Just like old times in that alleyway where they first met. A Sector Ranger, bound by his duty and moral compass, and a Mandalorian Bounty Hunter, driven by thousands of years of Mandalorian tradition and pride and a need for revenge.

Kanan had been a fool to think it would turn out any differently. That River would be any different. Kanan had met a thousand bounty hunters over the years, and they were all the same.

But perhaps, when the chips were down, River would make the right decision. A small voice in the back of Kanan’s mind insisted this possibility, but Kanan doubted it. River said it himself: nothing would change his mind. Kanan had to try anyway.

“It doesn’t have to be like this,” the ranger seethed, his whole body tense with anger as he took another step toward the Mandalorian. “I lost someone once too. You think that killing everyone responsible will fill the whole in you, that it will ease just a little bit of the pain, but it doesn’t. It consumes you, and you lose yourself along the way. And when the dust clears, you have nothing.”

He took a shaky breath before continuing. It had been a long time since he’d talked about that. “We can still work together. I want to help you find out what happened to your brother. Can’t you get that through your thick Mandalorian skull?”

He made a sweeping gesture to their surroundings. For Malachor’s sake, that’s why I’m here!” “You think I’m here because I had nothing better to do?

“But you can’t just pronounce someone’s guilt and execution before you even know if they’re guilty! I won’t let you murder someone just because you have a hunch, the word of a syndicate criminal.”

He stood in front of River, his legs planted firmly in place as he stared down at the Mandalorian. “But if that is your intention, then I have no choice but to stop you.”

@Feng Mian

 

[Song Wren]

She thought they were past butting heads, done with bickering like a pair of children, but here they were on the verge of a very real fight. Would he pull out his blaster? Would she have to use her knife? The questions circled above her head like vultures.

Kanan wasn’t wrong. It didn’t have to end like this.

But he wasn’t right, either. Song couldn’t let this go.

“A hunch,” she repeated, the disgust in her voice clear enough. “Even if it that was the case, what if it’s the truth? What would you do if the proof was right in your face? Would you let me kill the Ranger then? One of your own?”

It didn’t matter if she was wearing a helmet. The look she gave him was cold, piercing, because she already knew what he’d do. Even if Amita confessed to the crime, even if the evidence was overwhelming, Kanan wouldn’t let Song enact her justice.

And what would the woman be charged with? Nothing. The Free Worlds Alliance wouldn’t try one of their own soldiers, and in their eyes, they’d only see her brother River as a lowly bounty hunter, a bloodthirsty Mandalorian.

They’d probably give the Sector Ranger a medal instead.

Song dug her fingers into her palm, unable to contain her fury. “I know you, Kanan. You’ll only get in my way, and I can’t let that happen. My brother deserves more than an icy grave to rot in.”

Neither of them would change their minds. It was obvious. And if Kanan wouldn’t move out of her way, then she’d make him.

Without a second thought, Song fired her jump boots. Instead of flying up, she sailed straight for him, using the propelled momentum to slam him hard in the chest. It was a cheap move trying to catch him by surprise, but she could only hope it’d be enough to force Kanan to rethink his position.

Song would fight if she must.

@llamallove

 

[Kanan Marek]

“Yes,” Kanan answered emphatically, not hesitating for a moment. “If she was guilty of murdering your brother, then I... I would not stand in your way.”

He was genuine. He would have chased Jania’s murderers to the ends of the galaxy and back to kill them, and he had. He did not rest until every single one of them was dead by his own hand. They had stolen his life away from him, and a life for a life was justice.

“But you don’t know that it is the truth. You’re passing a verdict on this woman with no evidence. All you have is Demidov’s word. What if he’s wrong? What if...”

He didn’t finish that thought. There was no point. River was not listening to him.
“I don’t want to have to fight you, River—“ But it was too late. Negotiations were over.

Kanan groaned. He felt like he’d been hit in the chest with a ton of bricks. The blow served as a painful reminder of the blow to the back he’d taken only moments earlier.

It took him a moment to catch his breath. River’s attack had taken him by surprise. Not to mention it hurt... a lot. He shoved River to the side. “So much for that Mandalorian honor,” he spat, managing to crawl atop him to try and pin him down.

@Feng Mian

 

[Song Wren]

“Liar.”

Song hadn’t bothered to digest his words. Grief had turned her thoughts sickly. Anger had blinded her every move. She’d always thought of Kanan as the better of the two, the righteous Sector Ranger from back in the cantina where they first met.

She was too hurt by the idea another Ranger was responsible for River’s death to realize Kanan was more than that—to realize he was her friend, her ally to the end.

They fell together to the ground. Kanan’s face contorted with pain, and Song grunted as she was pinned to the grass. River’s armor was mussed by dirt now, ruined because of her need to pick a fight. It only served to fuel her anger further.

“Shut up,” she said, and even with the weight of him atop her, she reared back an arm and tried to clock him right in the jaw. “You don’t understand.”

Whether or not the blow landed, Song mustered what strength she could to throw him off her body and into a nearby tree. She’d roll through the mud if she had to. Since she was the one to start this fight, she wanted to be the one to end it.

@llamallove

 

[Kanan Marek]

“I don’t understand?” Kanan echoed. “What don’t I understand? Your desire for revenge at any cost or your misplaced anger?”

Leaning back, the ranger was able to dodge River’s punch, but the movement and displacement of his weight had given River a window of opportunity, and he took it.

Kanan hit the nearby tree with a thud. The soft grass beneath him was of little comfort. Grasping the green blades with clenched hands, he couldn’t contain the groan that escaped him. That was the second time today he’d been thrown into a tree.

River always managed to surprise him. He was a lot stronger than he looked. And very, very stubborn.

Kanan regained his footing, rubbing his side as he did so. “You know,” he began, stepping toward the Mandalorian, his fists raised to fight. He threw one punch after another, aiming for the soft parts in the Mandalorian armor but expecting River to block most of them. He would be happy if one or two of them landed. “I’m really...getting tired...of you throwing me around.”

@Feng Mian

 

[Song Wren]

“You don’t understand anything!” she shouted in response, hating the ache in her own voice. The words might seem stupid to him, but for Song, it was the truth. Kanan didn’t share the painful memories of her brother, he didn’t know who she really was under the helmet, he didn’t know the tensions that ran in her family, in Clan Wren.

“I know you lost someone close to you too, but how does that give you the right to understand what I’m going through? To understand who I am?” Song jabbed a fist at his gut and missed. White, hot fury crowded the edges of her vision.

Her head was thumping. It took her several moments before she’d even registered the punches landing between the cracks of her armor, bruising skin and knocking the air from her lungs. She was a stubborn, breathless disaster.

“Fine,” she panted. “If you’re tired… of being… thrown around…”

Song narrowed her eyes and, following Kanan’s movements carefully, raised a leg and kicked hard into his crotch. Another historically low blow for a Mandalorian, but why did she care? She was barely Clan Wren, not even a man. She'd done worse, and besides, given the rate they were going, a groin kick had been practically inevitable.

“How’s that for a change?”

@llamallove

 

[Kanan Marek]

“I don’t understand anything?” he shouted back, still throwing punches. “I understand that you’re ready to punish anyone in your way, guilty or not. I understand that you think killing your brother’s killer will maybe ease some of the pain, but it doesn’t. That’s why you can’t lose yourself along the way.”

I don’t want to see you lose yourself along the way, Kanan thought to himself. Once he had hunted down and killed everyone involved in Jania’s death, Kanan had felt more alone than ever. All he had had was himself. The guilt of not being there to protect her had been more than enough to deal with.

“You have to be able to live with yourself,” he finished his thought aloud, panting. “I’m not trying to make this about me. I’m just trying to make you see that it doesn’t have to be like this.”

A small gasp passed his lips at the low blow dealt him, and he sunk to one knee, clasping his stomach as nausea began to overtake. He cursed himself for allowing the Mandalorian the satisfaction of seeing him like this, and he was reminded of their first meeting in that alleyway. It felt like such a long time ago, but the pain the Sector Ranger was experiencing at that moment brought it into vivid remembrance.

River had dealt him a similar blow in that alleyway, and it had been just as painful then as it was now. River’s leg strength was impressive, although at the moment Kanan did not find it impressive. He found it more than a little bit annoying. He found it absolutely infuriating.

“That’s not exactly what I had in mind,” he growled. He had more than half a mind to return the low blow, but he thought better of it. Only because River would be expecting that. His brown eyes glossed over his opponent. Or perhaps not. The throbbing pain coursing throughout his body reminded him that it was worth a try.

On one knee, he was at just the right angle to shove his shoulder into River where he hoped it would hurt the most. Then wrapping his arms around the Mandalorian’s legs, he pushed him backward toward a fallen tree, not relinquishing his hold.

@Feng Mian

 

[Song Wren]

Men. One kick was always enough to put them on their knees.

Song hoped this would signal the end of their fight, but Kanan had surprisingly endured the pain. He lunged for her legs, which she might have avoided easily enough if she hadn’t been so out of breath, and once his shoulder crashed into her own groin, the Mandalorian let out an audible oomph.

The Ranger had hit hard, that was for certain. He might have actually taken her down, but unlike him, she didn’t share the weakness between his legs. Song recovered from the blow in an instant. Even as he clutched her thighs like a rabid animal, she did everything in her power to stop from falling over the broken tree.

“Shut up!” she cried, and rained one fist after another onto his head, desperately trying to get him to break his hold. Her mind was a maddening storm of thoughts, a string of words messily thrown together: shut up, shut up, shut up. Song wanted to cry. She wanted to scream.

And she did. Over and over again. “Shut up! Just shut up!”

Eventually her punches softened, fingers curling in on themselves, her knuckles bruised and bleeding. She didn’t know how badly hurt Kanan was, if he was at all. She didn't know if he was even still conscious. She only knew the heavy ache in her heart and in her heaving lungs.

“I’ve tried to live with myself already, okay? I’ve tried to accept what's happened. But I can’t sleep without dreaming of him. I can’t close my eyes without seeing his body.” Her voice nearly broke. “His face haunts me every waking moment of the day, and I can’t do it anymore. I can’t do this anymore.”

“Just stop it already, Kanan.”

@llamallove

 

[Kanan Marek]

As River’s closed fists rained down on his head one after another, it was all Kanan could do to keep his hold on the Mandalorian. Blood began to trickle down the side of his face, but he gritted his teeth and pushed harder.

“Just stop it already? Me? As if I’m the one that started this?” he answered, his voice deep and threatening. “You’re the one that threw me into a tree! You started this fight!”

Kanan relinquished his hold on the Mandalorian’s legs, but in his anger he couldn’t stop himself from throwing one last punch. Aiming for the gut, the ranger slammed his fist into the Mandalorian with all the strength he had left at that moment.

With River’s armor plating, it almost surely hurt Kanan more than it had the Mandalorian, but the ranger didn’t care. Not even as he looked down at his hand, bloody and bruised.

Exhausted, he plopped himself down in the grass and leaned back against the fallen tree, muttering something under his breath about “unbelievable.” His head was throbbing from River’s strategic blows, and he could hardly think straight. With the fighting over, at least for the moment, he could feel his heartbeat beginning to slow down. Now if only he could catch his breath.

Running a hand through his hair, matted from sweat and blood, he gave in to the need to close his eyes and lay his head back against the log. He had enough faith left in River to know that the Mandalorian wouldn’t attack him now, not with his eyes closed.

“I’m not asking you to accept what’s happened,” he said eventually, his voice so quiet it was barely audible. “I’m not asking you to accept the impossible. You can’t just accept it. You can’t just forget about it. I don’t expect you to. I just want you to do the right thing.”

He sighed and brought a hesitant hand up to his forehead, hoping in vain that it would help his head, but it didn’t do a thing. “Maybe make a life for yourself along the way too. Then you won’t end up like me,” he chuckled to himself before falling quiet again.


Kanan had always known that River didn’t need his help in tracking down his brother’s killer. Kanan had always thought that River wanted his help. That is until tonight.

Opening his eyes again, Kanan looked over at the Mandalorian, the moonlight bouncing off his armor. He tried to bring himself to say, “You should go,” but he couldn’t. Perhaps later. Not now.

@Feng Mian

 

[Song Wren]

Song saw the punch coming, but did nothing to stop it. The air left her in a sharp breath, and as Kanan slumped against the fallen tree, she eventually did the same. They were both an exhausted mess, disasters in their own right, destroyed by each other’s maelstroms of grief and anger. But now the worst had passed, dark clouds parting to reveal the people they’d always been:

Soldiers, ravaged by a galaxy without pity or remorse.

“I don’t know what’s right or wrong anymore, Kanan,” she whispered, turning to face him and then the stars decorating the night sky. “I’m sorry.”

Her heart ached. Why did it have to be this way? What had she accomplished fighting him, other than letting out the anger she’d bottled up for the last year? They were more divided than ever, a pitiful excuse for trained soldiers. Song wanted to reach out to him, knowing he was in just as much pain as she was.

I do want to make a life for myself, she desperately wanted to say. I want to make a life with you, because you’re the only one whose made me forget the pain of loss. I want to travel the galaxy at your side. Track fugitives, fight pirates, rescue settlements. Just the two of us.

But she couldn’t admit that. She wouldn’t. Song was still Mandalorian, and Kanan was a Sector Ranger, the polar opposite, and part of an organization responsible for the death of her brother. And yet she couldn’t bring herself to fight him anymore, either. She only wanted to talk.

“You said you lost someone close to you, too.” Her voice was soft, like the grass bunched under her fingers. “Who were they to you?”

Song didn’t think she had a right to answers, and she wasn’t sure how Kanan would react. She didn’t know if he would even say anything more. But it didn’t matter. She just wanted to let him know that she cared enough to listen.

@llamallove

 

[Kanan Marek]

Kanan watched the Mandalorian beside him, his eyes lazily roaming the helmet that had once been his brother’s. Leaned against the log for support, they were only inches apart, but it might as well have been miles between them. How had it come to this?

The pain in his head made it harder to keep his eyes open with every minute that passed, so he allowed his eyelids to fall shut again and tried to focus on his breathing. He was thankful it was still dark out.

“Then let me help you,” he murmured. “Let me help you do the right thing. We can...” He stopped, unsure if he wanted to continue or not. After everything that had just happened, did he still want to help River? In his heart he already knew the answer to that. “We can figure it out together.”

Silence fell between them after that. He wondered briefly what was going through the Mandalorian’s mind, but the pain in his own kept him from thinking past that. He just sat there, quiet as his breathing finally began to regulate.

Eventually, River’s voice broke the silence. His tone was soft, caring even, and after the beating they had just given each other, it was like an unexpected breath of fresh air.

The ranger opened his eyes and stared at the Mandalorian, but he did not answer his question. In truth, he had not expected River to ask that. Kanan’s thoughts had been preoccupied with the fight and the hurt.

His brown eyes searched the visor of the Mandalorian’s helmet, as if hoping to see the answer to an unspoken question in his eyes, despite not being able to see them. All he could see was the cold, impersonal reflection of the tinted visor. Yet somehow, Kanan saw something more than that. Felt something more. River would not have asked if he had not wanted to know, and he would not have made his words soft if he had not cared. Or so he hoped.

“My wife,” Kanan finally answered, tearing his eyes from the Mandalorian to stare into the tree line straight ahead. “Jania.” It felt odd to talk about her out loud. To say her name out loud felt even stranger. He hadn’t spoken of her or even verbalized her name in... years.

As much as he hated himself for it, he tried every day to think less of her, and every day it got a little bit easier to. He hated himself for it, told himself he was disrespecting and betraying her memory and the life she had led, but he had become weary down to his bones of the pain. He wanted desperately to feel nothing, no matter how wrong he told himself that was.

“She was killed in a syndicate shooting on Coruscant not long after I became a ranger. She was five months pregnant at the time... Wrong place at the wrong time I suppose.”

@Feng Mian