THE OP had been Kanan's idea.
It had been the worst idea he had ever had, even worse than the Imperial Academy idea.
Far worse, Kanan thought miserably, as he paced the halls of the Ghost.
He knew the others were watching him, but he didn't care. He was too stressed out to stop walking back and forth, back and forth, again and again. Ezra... where is Ezra?!
Three days ago, Kanan had decided that his Padawan, Ezra, should go on an op - alone. Ezra had agreed that it would be good practice, especially if he was ever separated from the rest of the crew during a normal supply run. And the goal of Ezra's solo op was rather simple: sneak into an Imperial docking bay, steal a crate, and come back.
So today, at precisely duskfall, Ezra Bridger had set out for Capital City, by himself.
Five hours ago.
Kanan growled faintly at himself as he turned for another lap, when someone grabbed him by the shoulder from behind.
The tall, dark-haired Jedi paused, sensing that it was Hera Syndulla behind him.
He glanced over at her and found his own worry reflected in the Twi'lek's green eyes.
"Let's go," she said softly.