in the dark there is discovery

"They may have the better fighters, but we've still got the better pilot." "Would you like a chance to prove that?" "Try me."

"You're welcome, dear."

"It's been a while since we've spent some time alone." "And when we do, it's in situations like this."

He saw the Twi'lek's cloak nearby, pinned beneath a heavy girder. She did leave me a souvenir, after all. With great effort, he pulled the metal aside. He took the garment into his hands and held it up. It was a good find, he thought, as he turned to stagger out of the alley. Because he was starting to believe she had never been there.

He stopped thinking that when he stepped out into the street—and found himself looking into her eyes.

"Ah," she said, seeing her cloak.

"Ah," he repeated. Kanan stood frozen, studying her under the bright light of the moon. She was shorter than he was, with deep green skin, full lips, and a chin that came to a pleasing point. She wore a gray pilot's hat that allowed exit for two head-tails that hung at a little more than shoulder-length. She wore a brown vest, gold-colored slacks with utility pockets, and black gloves that matched the cloak in her hands.

"I knew I'd forgotten something," she said, removing the garment from his hands so deftly he barely noticed she'd done it. Then she looked at him with concern. "You okay there?"

Kanan nodded.

"You speak Basic?"

"Words fail me."

She smiled. "So they do."

No matter how dark the world around you, there’s a lightness and a joy when you are with someone who understands you, who truly knows you. Kanan and Hera’s strength is that they lift each other up. 

                                   — Dave Filoni

Hera expected one of Kanan’s wry replies. He had a thousand one-liners ready to go. Humorous banter was their way of keeping their heads cool during life-and-death moments. But there was no response through the intercom.

“Kanan?” Hera stabbed at the intercom button again. “Kanan, do you read?”

There was nothing but static. If the TIE’s blasts had somehow hit the turret and she’d lost Kanan, she didn’t know what she’d do. Kanan Jarrus was more than a friend or a colleague. The human meant the world to her–although she’d never admit it to him.

–Rise of the Rebels by Michael Kogge

“He’s gone now, isn’t he? I mean… really gone.”

“We just met. I don’t even know what you are.”

“Ask anyone.” Kanan waved over the heads of the drunken mob. “Okadiah! Tell her about me!”

Unseen amid the drunken crowd, Okadiah called out, “A fine pilot, an occasional humanitarian, and a somewhat tolerable houseguest. Marry him, my darling!”

“That’s an endorsement?” Hera asked, straining to see where the voice had come from. “Can he even see me?” 

— A New Dawn by John Jackson Miller

We’ll see each other again. I promise.

Why did I wait so long to tell him?

Hera. Remember why we came.

I know what to say now.