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In all of Hera’s travels, she’d been to a lot of places-- Hosnian Prime, Gorse, Kijimi, Bracca, and so many more. A common theme she’d noticed in many of them was the tiers. You had the clean and civilized upper levels, where the rich and prosperous lived, usually those who supported the Empire, these days. The streets were clean but lined with stormtroopers, the houses beautiful but paid for by credits made of the blood, sweat and tears of others.
And then you had the lower levels, where crime ran rampant, the gangs ruled the roost, and some people had never seen the sun. Ironically, this was usually where Hera found her best contacts, the people she knew she could trust. They had always seen the corruption of the upper levels, and were willing to help. Usually.
Taris was one of these planets, and it almost had it worse than most, what with the rakghouls prowling the sewers. Hera grimaced at the thought-- but luckily, today was not one for sewer exploration, unlike some of her previous visits.
Stepping out of the ancient cantina where she’d met her contact, she made her way down towards the elevator leading back to the upper levels, her mind completely elsewhere. In fact, it wasn’t even on the intel she’d gotten. Today, Hera’s mind was fully occupied with one thing-- Maurice.
She’d caught wind of the mysterious Rebel agent in several places, particularly of late. His work had popped up a lot lately, as had his mysterious, three-pronged symbol that Hera could swear she’d seen somewhere before. Hence part of her curiosity.
The thing about Maurice was… well, Hera wasn’t quite sure. Was it the fact that his name had been dropped in places Hera knew she’d been around the exact same time? Was it the slightly amused tone Fulcrum had whenever she brought him up? Or was it just the mystery surrounding him, the fact that no one knew who or what he was. Whoever this man was, he had to be a professional.
So lost in her thoughts was Hera, she hardly even noticed that she’d walked past the elevator until a loud crash and a thud jerked her out of her thoughts. Looking up sharply, Hera caught sight of a shattered window, with a dumpster right beneath it. As she watched, something stirred in the dumpster.
Hera’s eyes widened. Did someone just fall out the window? Or worse… moving stealthily, she pulled her blaster from its holster and approached the dumpster warily, thoughts of the gangs she encountered here and the rakghouls flickering through her head.
She drew to a stop a few feet away as a hand-- not, thankfully, the same rancid white as the rakghouls, so that ruled out one possibility-- grabbed the edge of the dumpster. Another hand followed seconds after, and then the owner of said hands hauled himself into view. Hera’s jaw dropped as she met the green-blue eyes of Kanan Jarrus, who seemed equally stunned to see her.
“This has become one of those days where I can honestly say I had no idea any of this would happen,” he said. “What are you doing on Taris?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” Hera responded, not replacing her blaster in its holster just yet. “Tell me you haven’t joined a gang.”
“You know, it’s nice to know that you’ll always assume the worst of me,” Kanan said with a grunt as he pushed himself into a standing position. “I have not joined a gang-- I’m not a joiner, or have you forgotten?”
“Definitely not,” Hera said, returning her blaster to its holster. “Need a hand?”
“Much though I hate to refuse the opportunity to hold your hand, gorgeous--” Hera rolled her eyes at that-- “I’ve got it. Thanks, though.” Grabbing the edge of the dumpster, Kanan pushed himself up and over, landing on the street in front of her with a grunt. Brushing some debris off his shirt, he said, “So, how’s life treating you? Recovered from our last escapade yet?”
“Are you referring to Coruscant?” Hera said dryly. “Or to Alderaan?”
“Coruscant, of course-- Alderaan was kind of nice.”
“We nearly got arrested!”
“I bought you dinner, though.”
Hera gave a wry snort. “Oh, and that definitely makes nearly getting arrested better.”
“Well, I thought it did,” Kanan said, shooting her his usual charming grin.
Shaking her head, Hera told him, “As always, it’s lovely to see you, dear--”
“That’s news to me. But definitely the kind I can handle--”
“--but I have places to be,” Hera finished. “So if you’ll excuse me, I’d better get going.”
She turned back towards the elevator, hearing Kanan begin to protest behind her. “Oh, come on, can’t you--” his voice cut off, along with his footsteps, with a pained grunt.
Feeling a flash of worry go through her, Hera turned around to see Kanan on his knees, doubled over, an arm around his torso. She was by his side in an instant, a hand on his shoulder. “If you’re messing with me--”
“Yeah, I’m not,” Kanan said, the pain in his voice lending honesty to his words. “I might have been lightly stabbed.”
“You’ve been stabbed ?”
“Lightly,” Kanan repeated, and Hera finally spotted the blood soaking the front of his shirt around his ribcage. Oh, no.
“We’ve got to get you to a medical center,” she told him, and Kanan shook his head adamantly.
“No. We can’t.”
“What? Why not--” Hera stopped abruptly, a sudden thought hitting her. “Kanan. Who exactly stabbed you?”
Giving her a sheepish grin, Kanan said, “Will you be mad if I say the leader of one of the resident gangs?”
Letting out a groan, Hera said, “You’ve got to be kidding me. Well, that rules out the medical center.” The chances of the medics being in league with the gangs or potential retribution towards them were too high for that.
“I’ll take you back to my ship,” she decided. “We’ll fix you up there. Can you stand?”
“Probably,” Kanan said. “Although I might need a hand.”
“Oh, now you ask for help,” Hera said as Kanan slowly pushed himself to his feet, pain stamped across his face. Still, he let out a breathless chuckle.
“Can you think of a better time?”
Moving to his side, Hera said, “Not really, come to think of it. Arm around me, let’s go.”
The two of them made their way into the elevator and to the upper levels, ignoring the weird looks they were getting. But thankfully, they managed to get past the stormtroopers without any inspection and to the spaceport where the Ghost was waiting.
Sabine was waiting for them, as she almost always was. Her golden-brown eyes went wide at the sight of Kanan, however. “Hera, what--”
“He’s been stabbed,” Hera told her. “Keep an eye on him while I get the medkit, and tell Zeb not to kill him. Kanan, don’t move,” she instructed as Sabine stepped forward to take him from Hera.
“Right, because I’m going to so many places like this,” Kanan muttered, which Hera ignored.
Leaving him and Sabine in the cargo bay, she hurried up to the closet where the medical supplies were stored and grabbed the medkit. She dropped it off in the room across from hers, which was unoccupied, and came back down to where Kanan was actually talking to Sabine.
“Come on, we’ve got to get you stitched up,” she told him, taking his arm.
“Oh, joy,” Kanan muttered. “And how do we plan on doing that?”
Hera glanced at the ladder and grimaced. “Well--”
“Hera? What’s going on?”
Zeb, who had just come out of the lounge, stared at her and Kanan, looking completely bemused. “Who is--”
“No time,” Hera said briskly. “Give me a hand with him before he bleeds out in the cargo bay, please.”
“That’s what I love about you, your overwhelming sense of empathy,” Kanan mumbled, swaying on his feet enough that Hera knew the blood loss was affecting him.
Between her and Zeb, they managed to get him up to the spare room. Hera sent the others out, gave Kanan a painkiller, and managed to make sure that his lung hadn’t been punctured.
“At least I won’t be drowning in my own blood,” Kanan said as Hera threaded a needle.
“So glad you can look on the bright side of life right now,” she told him. “Pull up your shirt and stay still.”
Kanan obediently did so, revealing the dark wound in his side. It had been a while since Hera had dealt with an actual knife wound, as opposed to a vibroblade or something that burned the injury shut, but she remembered what to do well enough.
By the time she’d cleaned and stitched up the wound, Kanan was inches away from passing out. “Shouldn’t have let you give me that painkiller,” he said, his voice slurred from pain and the drug. “How’m I supposed to get moving?”
“You’re not going anywhere,” Hera told him, clipping off the end of the thread. “Lay down, get some rest.”
Shaking his head, Kanan said, “Can’t. Kasmir’ll lose it if I don’t call him soon.”
Hera frowned-- she hadn’t heard that name before. “Kasmir will just have to wait.”
“You don’t know what he’s like. I’ll never hear the end of it.” Fumbling for his belt, Kanan took a comlink and pressed it into Hera’s hand. “Take this. Call number 2708. Give it three clicks, and tell whoever picks up that you want to talk to Kasmir. Tell him what happened.”
“I will,” Hera promised. “Now please, get some rest.”
“Yes, Captain,” Kanan mumbled, his eyes already sliding closed as he dropped back onto the bed, his hand still wrapped around Hera’s. Hera stared at it for a moment, then gently pulled her hand away, pocketing the comlink Kanan had given her. She had something else to deal with first.
Zeb and Sabine were waiting for her when she left the room-- Hera was pretty sure Chopper was up front, ignoring everything that was going on. “He’s asleep and fine,” Hera told them, and was surprised at just how relieved they looked. And then came the questions.
“Who is that?” Zeb demanded.
“Was that Kanan?” Sabine asked.
“What happened?”
“What’s he doing here?”
Holding up her hands, Hera said, “One at a time, please. Yes, that was Kanan. You may recall, Zeb, I’ve mentioned him a few times.”
“That gunslinger punk?” Zeb looked completely confused. “That was him, the one who’s always flirting with you?”
“Yes. He ran into trouble with one of the local gangs, and I brought him back here to fix him up. He’ll leave once I get a hold of his ride.”
Zeb frowned, his expression indecisive. “Right. Uh, here’s the thing. I know him.”
“What?” Hera gaped at him in shock.
“So do I, actually,” Sabine put in.
Hera gave them both stunned looks. “What-- how-- why haven’t either of you ever told me this before?”
“Because he didn’t tell me his name was Kanan,” Sabine explained. “He went by Prinze. He hired me when I was still a bounty hunter, years ago.”
“What did he hire you for?” Hera asked, still recovering from her shock.
Sabine hesitated, biting her lip. “It wasn’t a normal job. He paid me double to follow his requests exactly and not tell anyone about it. It was-- a piece of armor.”
“Armor?” Hera suddenly recalled seeing Kanan in dark green plate armor, along one arm and his shoulder, the pauldron carrying a white three-pronged symbol.
Wait. What?
“I was the one who designed the symbol on the pauldron,” Sabine explained, looking nervous. “The one that we keep seeing associated with Maurice. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier, Hera, but he made me promise--”
“It’s fine,” Hera assured her, putting a hand on her shoulder. “I understand.” Glancing at Zeb, she said, “What about you?”
His expression surprisingly subdued, Zeb said, “He saved my life.”
“How so?”
“Remember when you found me on Kijimi?” Zeb asked. When Hera nodded, he told her, “Around two hours before you showed up, I was in a bar. Wound up in a fight with this punk, which I won, I might add. But before I could really take him out… a couple Imps showed up. They were going to take me in, but the guy I was fighting took them out, and got me to the safehouse I was in.” Zeb rubbed the back of his neck, frowning thoughtfully. “He only told me his name was Jarrus at the time.”
Hera stared at both members of her crew, her mind racing. This was unbelievable, literally so. How impossible was it that Kanan could have met both members of her crew on separate occasions, before she herself had? That wasn’t the kind of thing that happened to anyone.
Except maybe him , she thought ruefully, thinking of all the times she’d bumped into Kanan. More times than one conceivably would in the enormous galaxy they lived in.
“Thank you for telling me,” Hera said to her crewmembers. “Is there anything else?”
“I have a question,” Sabine said. “Do you really think this guy is who he says he is?”
“I’ve never really thought Kanan was who he said he was,” Hera said dryly, her voice going serious as she added,“but I can trust him. If you’ll excuse me, I need to make a call.”
As she slipped into her room, her own words echoed through her head-- I’ve never really thought Kanan was who he said he was. That was certainly true. Kanan’s claims, out loud or otherwise, were often contrary to his actions. The way he pretended not to care about the galaxy, or that he was just some idiot gunslinger who liked to fool around and flirt-- although the last part may have been true.
But now she had some pretty convincing evidence to the contrary. Evidence that he was involved with a Rebellion agent of some kind. We’ll have that conversation another day, Hera decided. For now, I’d better call Kanan’s-- friend? Employer? Crewmate? I suppose we’ll find out.
She followed Kanan’s instructions and waited. It wasn’t long before a voice, distinctly male, came from the other end.
“Where the ever-loving kriff have you been? Do you know how long we’ve been waiting to hear from you? The kids are about ready to lose their minds--”
“Excuse me,” Hera interrupted, and the voice on the other end went dead quiet.
When he spoke again, his tone was cool. “Where’s Kanan?”
“Kanan’s been hurt,” Hera explained. “There was a bit of an altercation with a gang, and he was stabbed--” she was cut off by a vehement curse, but continued-- “but he’s fine. I have him here on my ship with me.”
“And who exactly are you?” The voice had a hostile and suspicious edge to it-- clearly, Kanan wasn’t the only paranoid one in his crew. Although these days, you can never be too careful, Hera mused.
“My name is Hera Syndulla,” she told him. “I’m a friend of Kanan’s--”
“Hang on, you’re Captain Syndulla?” The voice changed, surprise in its tone.
“Yes,” Hera said slowly.
“Oh. Well, that’s alright, then. What do you need?”
Hera stared at the comlink for a moment. What did Kanan tell them? she wondered. Let’s think about this later. “Kanan told me to talk to a Kasmir.”
“You’re in luck-- I am, in fact, Janus Kasmir,” the voice told her. “How’s the kid?”
“He’ll be okay,” Hera responded. “Are you on planet?”
“Yup. If you give me your coordinates, I can come and pick him up.”
For a moment, Hera hesitated. The idea of giving a stranger her location-- the location of her crew, her ship-- wasn’t the most palatable. But Kanan had given her Kasmir’s name, and if he trusted Kasmir, so would she. “I’ll send them,” she promised.
“Good. See you in a bit.”
The comlink clicked off, and Hera sent the coordinates. Now all there was to do was wait.
And come up with some probing questions to send Kanan’s way once he woke up, because he definitely wasn’t getting out of those.
~ ~ ~
Kanan couldn’t say what had jerked him out of his painkiller-induced dreams-- which had been very weird. Something to do with a sparkling moon and a vicious cyborg and a pair of beautiful, semi-exasperated green eyes, so it was probably more of a memory, which was why he attempted not to sleep on painkillers. He sat bolt upright and grimaced at the stab of pain in his torso, which was less severe than it had been, but the painkillers were definitely wearing off.
He was in a room he didn’t immediately recognize, but the vague, painful memories he brought up told him he was on the Ghost . About time , he mused. I’ve always wondered what it looked like from the inside.
Before he could stand up, the door hissed open, and Zeb was facing him. This part, Kanan definitely remembered. How Hera had wound up with two people he’d met on her crew, he wasn’t sure, but he also knew better than to question it at this point.
“Figured you might be waking up,” Zeb said. “Hera called your ride, should be here soon.”
“Oh, she did now, did she?” Kanan said, a spark of worry flaring through him. With the benefit of hindsight, he should have just left Kasmir to suffer in silence, because that definitely would have been preferable to all the jokes Kasmir either had or would make when he met Hera. “She didn’t say anything about him, did she?”
“No,” Zeb said, which figured. Hera wouldn’t mention that sort of thing immediately even if Kasmir had brought it up. Odds were the Kalleran would wait until Kanan was there, to make it even more irritating.
Kanan gingerly moved to his feet, grimacing at the pull of the stitches in his skin. This was why he liked bacta better-- it was far too easy to split stitches. Catching hold of the edge of one of the bunks, he glanced at Zeb. “I didn’t know you were working for Hera.”
“I didn’t know you were the gunslinger who was stalking her,” Zeb said, his tone making it clear how he felt about Kanan. Apparently, any remaining loyalty for saving him had gone out the window a while ago.
“I’m not stalking her,” Kanan protested, trying to figure out what Zeb would be expecting. Probably something pretty similar to how he’d acted when they first met. “We just keep bumping into each other.”
“Right,” Zeb said, his tone unconvinced. “Well, you’d better watch yourself. You might have saved me once, but that doesn’t mean I trust you around Hera.”
Ouch. But fair, considering who I’ve been around her . “I’ll be good,” Kanan said, lifting his hands into the air in surrender. “Besides, I think we both know that Hera can handle herself.”
Before Zeb could respond, Hera herself appeared behind Zeb. “I see you’re awake,” she observed. “And already on your feet-- why doesn’t that surprise me?”
“Because you know me so well?” Kanan suggested, and Hera rolled her eyes.
“Okay, Sleeping Beauty, let’s get moving.”
“There are so many possible responses to that,” Kanan mused, cautiously crossing the room and stepping through the door without another glance at Zeb, despite the hostility all but radiating off of him. “For instance, does this mean I get the kiss of true love?”
Leading him down the hallway, Hera quipped, “Oh, sure. If you go back and ask Zeb nicely I’m sure he’ll oblige.”
Making a face, Kanan said, “Sorry, I don’t think he’s my type. Which leads me to my second question-- you think I’m a beauty?”
Hera gave a huff of annoyance. “Shut up and get moving, dear.”
“I guess we did establish that on Kijimi-- kriff, how long ago was that?” Kanan frowned thoughtfully. “Must have been close to four years ago. We have quite a history, don’t we?”
“Oh, yes,” Hera agreed, leading him into the cargo bay. “You get into these ridiculous situations, I get you out of them--”
“Who was saving who on Kijimi?” Kanan demanded. “To say nothing of Coruscant-- but we can definitely add Taris to your counter.”
“There’s a counter?”
“Well, there is now.”
Hera laughed as they stepped out of the ship. “You need a hobby, dear. One that doesn’t involve stalking me.”
“What is with you and Zeb? I don’t stalk you,” Kanan asserted. “If I did, I’d end up bumping into you somewhere nicer. Maybe a restaurant, dinner, candles, the whole deal.”
Instead of rolling her eyes, Hera gave him a measuring look. “You know, Zeb told me that you were the one who found him on Kjimi.”
Kanan paused, measuring his response. “I see. Let me guess, you were surprised?”
“A little. Mainly, I was wondering why you didn’t tell me,” Hera said. “But I think I figured it out. You don’t want to be seen as someone who helps people.”
“Ouch,” Kanan said. “But fair. I don’t want people getting the wrong impression about me.”
Hera frowned at him pensively. “I’m not sure you actually mean that.”
Before Kanan could ask her what exactly she meant, or protest, the sound of engines caught his ears, and he turned to see a very familiar Kalleran pulling up in a battered speeder.
“It would seem your ride is here,” Hera observed.
“So it would,” Kanan said. “Can’t wait for this conversation!”
Hera paused, then said, “He knew my name. This Kasmir you had me call.” Her gaze was measuring as she said, “Any particular reason for that?”
“I might have mentioned you once or twice,” Kanan admitted, cursing internally. Of course, of course Kasmir would blow his cover there. The guy would never shut up. “Why? Do you like the thought of me talking about you that much?”
Hera scoffed. “You should be so lucky. Why don’t you stop flirting and get moving?”
“That doesn't sound like much fun, but I’ll do my best,” Kanan said, making no move to head towards the speeder. He often found himself playing this game around Hera, seeing how much longer he could stay with her and keep her talking. Hear her voice. “You know, I owe you one for this. Without you… I would have been in a whole lot of trouble.”
“It was the least I could do, dear,” Hera told him. “Someone needs to keep you out of trouble and I’m not sure that friend of yours is the one to do it.”
“He does his best,” Kanan said with a shrug. “But I’m a handful, in his defense.”
“That is true,” Hera said with a grin. Growing serious, she said, “I’m glad you’re safe, dear. Don’t do that to me again, alright? I was worried.”
“Hey,” Kanan said, taking her hand without thinking. “It takes more than a light stabbing to take me down. I’m fine.”
Hera’s eyes widened slightly, and Kanan cursed internally. You don’t let her see behind the mask, stupid! What’s the point of being undercover if you blow it for the first pair of pretty eyes you bump into?
But she was more than that, and he knew it. But he still had his job, and his duty.
Releasing her hand, he grinned lightly. “Well, I’d better get going before Kasmir skins me alive. Don’t be a stranger, alright?”
“As if you would ever let me,” Hera quipped, and Kanan gave her a wink before heading towards the speeder where Kasmir was waiting.
The Kalleran gave him a look as he slid into the passenger seat. “Do you have any idea how worried we were? The kids are seriously freaked out.”
“Negotiations went south,” Kanan said, leaning back in his seat. “We’re not going to be getting anything better out of Taris.”
“Of course we aren’t,” Kasmir grumbled, revving the speeder’s engine and heading out again. His voice turned sly, and he said, “So. That’s the captain.”
“Don’t. Just don’t.”
“About time I met her, although she seemed pretty surprised that I knew her name.” Kasmir affected a wounded look. “What, don’t you talk about us when you’re out?”
“You know I don’t,” Kanan said. “I can’t. The less she knows about any of us, the better.”
“And yet you were still stretching out the moments before you had to leave-- don’t think I didn’t catch that,” Kasmir told him.
“Just shut up,” Kanan muttered, closing his eyes and ignoring Kasmir’s talking. In his mind, he could still feel Hera’s hand in his, seeing her eyes watching him.
He didn’t let go of that mental image for a long time.