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The Park, Friday Afternoon

Right. Friday. And tomorrow, another group of students would be making their way to the island, unaware of the fresh hell they'd eventually be introduced to through this place. Kanan wasn't entirely certain just how much he wanted to care, all things considered. On the one hand, new semesters often turned up the most interesting (or worrisome) people. On the other hand, he wasn't teaching this time around, unless one counted sword lessons in the park, anyway. Which he did, sure, but... it wasn't quite the same?

At least this week, he could stand on both legs and his arms were behaving themselves. Another week of taking it easy and basically plastering himself in bacta patches had helped with that. So he was at the park today with his practise sword in hand, running through soresu forms while he waited for his usual student.

... Assuming she was back from her Smekday trip home, anyway. If not, well, actually moving around would be good for him. He'd been going stir-crazy cooped up at home.

[OOC: Open!]

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"Yeeeeeah, I'm pretty sure someone told my ancestors that about our situation way back in Revolutionary times. And then we still had to fight a whole other war about it."

And it still hadn't gotten all better.

Kanan pursed his lips a little at that, and then sighed and nodded.

"I don't have high hopes," he confessed. "Not for droids. Not for a lot of things. Hera's people are fighting for their freedom, too. As are the Wookiees, as are at least a dozen other races across the galaxy. The Empire's a pack of xenophobic opportunists. And there are a lot more of them, and they have much bigger guns."

"Sounds like you need all the help you can get," Tip said. "Like, say, the droids you'd probably recruit by making sure they know they're a priority."

Kanan was not going to facepalm. Kanan was not going to facepalm. Kanan was not.

"Someone needs all the help they can get, yeah," he replied. "But if there's some kind of rebellion in our Galaxy's future, I'm not going to be the one leading it. I'll pass your suggestion along if I ever meet the person who is, though."

"Why not you?" Tip asked. "You've got lots of training, right?"

"I had barely enough training to get sent to war at fifteen," Kanan replied, and he didn't even try to hold back a sigh. "And my training was never finished. You can't save a galaxy with a fancy sword and a mantra, as nice as that would be. It takes... I don't know what it would take. Armies, in this case. And I've had more than my fill of armies."

"I saved a planet with an alien, a cat, a handful of feral boys, and a general disdain for authority figures," Tip said. ". . . and, okay, some alien tech, but -- seriously, sounds to me like you're making excuses."

Kanan sighed, and lowered his sword. This wasn't a conversation he'd been anticipating today, no. Not by a long shot.

"Not everybody can do what you did, you know," he said, sounding tired. "Not everybody has that much fight left in them."

And besides, he was missing a cat and a handful of feral boys.

A big bipedal vaguely cat-like creature and couple teenagers with attitude could be substituted in a pinch!

"Excuses," Tip said again. "You're in your 'sit and mope on the couch' phase. I went through one of those, too, before I got my act together."

"Sit and mope on the couch?" Kanan sounded a touch incredulous, there. "Seriously? It's not enough I've joined the crew of someone who is committed to taking down the Empire, I have to stop moping and take charge?"

Really, joining Hera's crew was already a bigger step than he'd ever anticipated he would make!

"Not that I'm moping."

He wasn't!

Mostly!

"Uh huh." Sure, Kanan, Tip believed you. "Right, sorry. What do I know? I'm just a girl with a stick."

"Who saved the world," Kanan said, tired, but firm. "And I'm a man with a stick who's spent the better part of the last decade running away. There's the real difference between us, right there. When my life crumbled around me, I hid."

"So did I," Tip said. "Then I got over it."

Okay, Kanan was now reaching up with his free hand to kind of... scrub at his face, there.

"You make it sound like it's just as easy as that. Get over it. Save the world."

He'd already saved a moon and the planet that held its orbit this year. Wasn't that enough?

"Of course it's not easy," Tip said. "That doesn't mean you shouldn't do it."

Kanan just stood there in silence for a few seconds at that, eyes on the ground.

She was right. That was the hell of it. As much as it hurt, as much as it terrified him to think about doing it... she was right. And it was something he'd been trying to nerve himself back up to ever since he wound up on this damn island in the first place.

"You know," he said, finally, "you aren't wrong."

He didn't sound any less tired for having accepted that. But there it was.

"I know," Tip said. "I'm pretty clever if you give me a chance." She smirked. "Hell, I'm clever whether you give it to me or not."

"Can't deny that," Kanan said. And then added, a little more fondly, "A pain in my ass, maybe. But clever."

"Pretty sure the Chief would say being a pain in your ass means I'm doing it right."

"And who am I to argue with the Chief? Man knows what he's talking about."

Another one of Tip's friends that Kanan had liked. She had pretty good taste, there.

He was going to get himself killed fighting the Empire or something. But still.

Yeah, but how fucked up would he end up if he didn't even try?

"He knew better than to fight for people who wouldn't fight for him back," Tip said.

Kanan gave a little huff of a laugh at that, not really in amusement. Just sort of in acknowledgment.

"Maybe that was our problem."

Too late to dwell on that one now. It wasn't going to bring anybody back from the dead, after all.

"So," he said, lifting his sword again, "now that you've talked me into another war, are you ready to do some more training?"

It would help get his mind off of how badly he wanted to puke at the thought of it.

Tip saluted with her sword. "Sir, yes sir."

"Alright then," Kanan replied, and then lifted his other hand in a sort of silent, 'come at me' gesture. "We're sparring. Don't go easy on me."

He really didn't think there was going to be much chance of that happening, no matter what her skill level was.

Tip snorted. Yeah, she hadn't taken it easy on him verbally, and she wasn't going to physically, either.

And if she threw in the occasional dirty trick, well. Maybe she was just showing him how rebelling was done.

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The Park, Friday Afternoon

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