Erstwhile

Ghosts

I'd done this before.

Here I was, following behind a soldier dressed in white armor, trekking across a planet full of numerous unknown dangers. If it weren't for the pain coming from my wrist, I would've thought this was a figment from my brighter past.

"Here we are!" Gear, the trooper I'd been following, exclaimed, shaking me from my thoughts.

Lifting my head, I spotted a group of tents and hammocks strung up between several mushrooms. In the center of the encampment was a small fire pit, and as we approached, another Storm Trooper emerged from underneath one of the tents. His face was scarred, and as he caught sight of us, he grabbed his blaster and ran towards us.

"I saw the ship fall, and I--" His voice was cut short as his dark eyes landed on my face. "Who is this?" He sputtered.

"Doc, this is Ashoka Tano, a Jedi," Gear emphasized, "Her padawan is behind us."

"Jedi?" Doc exclaimed, "But they're--"

"Injured," Stance interrupted, coming up behind us, "And the kid is about to pass out."

For the next several moments, tension hung heavily between the three Storm Troopers, and I found my good hand creeping towards my light saber. This was a bad decision. We shouldn't have gone with them. If the soldiers decided to attack, there was a good chance that I would fail in protecting Ezra and myself.

"Bring him," Doc snapped and turned on his heel to head back towards the camp.

"Don't worry," Gear whispered as Stance carried Ezra towards the cluster of tents, "He'll get used to you. Just give him time."

Not saying anything, I forced my legs to move forward. Every part of me wanted to run away back to the ship, but I couldn't leave Ezra. He had stood by me when I was scared and had protected me when I was threatened. Right now, I had to put my uneasiness about the Storm Troopers aside in order to be there for Ezra and protect him if necessary.

As I followed after them, I couldn't help remembering Ezra's words:

"If I die, Kanan is going to kill me."

A smile lighting my face, I subconsciously remembered my own Master and how I would've said the same thing under these circumstances when I was younger. With these sweet memories came darker, more painful ones, and suddenly, my Master was standing right in front of me.

"Hey, Snips," he whispered and grinned at me.

At the sight, my throat constructed and my mind spun with confusion. How was this possible? My Master, the loving, mischievous man I knew, no longer existed, so how was he standing before me now?

"Master?" I stammered and stepped forward. As I approached, the world shifted, and I was alone once again. Shaking my head, I ducked underneath the flap of the tent.

*^*

Ezra was only unconscious for a minute, but I was there when he woke up and when Doc pulled the glass shard from his leg. Unfortunately the troopers' shabby camp was lacking in anesthesia, so nothing could hinder Ezra's pain.

Despite the stitching of Doc's needle, Ezra never whimpered or cried out. Although his body was clearly strained, all the young Jedi did was plaster a smile on his face and talk to me. For a few minutes, his strength puzzled me, but then I realized that he wasn't being strong for himself. He was being strong for me. Even now, in a tent that stank of sweat and blood, Ezra was trying to calm my fears with his easygoing smile: a smile that resembled another's.