Kanan damn near dropped his cup. He didn't. By some miracle of the Force, he managed to keep his cup in his hands.

He didn't, however, manage to keep from burning his tongue and pulling a bit of a spit-take as a result. Fortunately, it wasn't aimed at anybody in particular. Especially since he couldn't have been bothered to care about that minor thing at just that moment.

"A thousand years?" His eyes were wide as he brought his sleeve up to wipe as his chin. "You... you're serious."

He wasn't lying. That was the thing that was leaving Kanan the most stunned. That estimate wasn't hyperbole, wasn't just a figure of speech. Peter was telling him that he'd been in hell for a millennium. And Kanan believed him.