Chapter Text
A knock on her bedroom door caught Hera Syndulla’s attention. Setting aside her datapad, she called, “Come in!”
The door hissed open, and Sabine stuck her head inside. “Hey, Hera? Can I have a word?”
Waving for her to come in, Hera said, “What is it?”
Stepping into the room, Sabine said, “So, here’s the thing. Zeb and I have been talking, and you’ve been working really hard lately.”
“We all have,” Hera pointed out. “There’s a lot that needs doing.”
“True,” Sabine acknowledged, “and obviously we need to help those in need, you’re not going to hear me arguing about that.”
“I’m sensing a ‘but’ here,” Hera said, narrowing her eyes. “What is it?”
“In short, it’s you. Hera, you’ve been working yourself to the bone lately. You haven’t been getting enough sleep, you’re always looking for our next job-- you’re being worn out. You need some rest. Not just sleep, rest.”
Sighing, Hera said, “Sabine, I understand you’re concerned, but this is important work.”
“It is,” Sabine agreed, folding her arms. “And you need to be at your best to do it, which you’re not right now. You need a break.”
“What exactly do you have in mind?” Hera asked skeptically.
“A vacation,” Sabine said. “You take a week to relax somewhere-- whichever planet you want-- and get some time to yourself. We’re between jobs right now, and Zeb and I can handle anything that comes up.”
“I don’t know,” Hera said doubtfully. “I can’t exactly just walk away.”
“You’re not walking away,” Sabine pointed out. “You’re just taking a step back, and it’s only for a week. Hera, I have no idea when we’re gonna have this opportunity again, and you really need a break.”
Hera was quiet for a moment. Sabine might have a point , she thought. She had been working a lot lately, and a break wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. But I can’t just leave them--
“You should know,” Sabine added, “that Chopper agrees with us and says he’s going to commit mutiny and dump you on some random planet if you don’t say yes.”
Hera laughed. “I suppose I can’t argue with that, knowing Chopper.” She hesitated for another moment, then nodded. “Alright. But I want to call Fulcrum and let them know what’s going on first.”
“Whatever you say,” Sabine said. “And thank you for agreeing, Hera. You really do need this, you know.”
“I know,” Hera said wryly.
When Sabine left, she moved to the holocom that she used to contact Fulcrum, and keyed in the Rebellion agent’s frequency. It was only a few minutes before the hooded figure of Fulcrum appeared.
“Hello, Captain Syndulla,” the agent said, their voice changer making their tone harsh and strange. “What can I do for you?”
“Hello, Fulcrum,” Hera said. “Uh-- this is a little bit of an unusual call, I’m going to admit. My crew has decided, basically, that I’ve been working too hard and I need a break. Therefore, they’ve insisted that I take some kind of a vacation, and I thought it was a good idea to let you know.”
Fulcrum chuckled, a hint of their real voice slipping through for once. “That does sound like your crew-- and they’re not wrong. You’ve been working yourself hard, Hera. Even rebels need a break every now and then.”
“I know,” Hera said. “Although I don’t like to leave my crew.” She was silent, then said, “Well, any recommendations on where I should go? I don’t really have any planets in mind, to be honest.”
For a while, Fulcrum was silent, then they said, “Rion. Or more specifically, one of the moons.”
“Rion?” Hera frowned. “I’ve never been-- is it nice?”
“It’s beautiful there,” Fulcrum said. “My family and I took a vacation there years ago, when I was… younger.” A hint of wistfulness entered their tone for just a moment before they carried on. “Tropical weather, incredible views, a nice resort area, if I’m remembering right-- and minimal Imperial presence.”
“Sounds perfect,” Hera said. “Alright, Rion it is.”
She bid Fulcrum farewell and switched off the holocom. Well, looks like I’m taking a vacation. Honestly, it’ll be nice to get some peace and quiet for once. Some proper rest.
As she got up and started for the cockpit, Hera made a rueful face. Who am I kidding? This is probably going to go south somehow. I’ll just be interested to know what kind of fiasco I’m going to encounter.
~ ~ ~
“Hey, kid.”
Kanan didn’t look up from the datapad he was studying as he told Janus Kasmir, “Don’t call me kid. What do you want?”
Kasmir, predictably, ignored the first part of his sentence. No matter how long the two of them had been working together, Kanan reflected, he somehow doubted if the Kalleran would ever listen to him about that. “We’ve always been friends, right?” Kasmir asked.
“If you ignore the five years where we didn’t talk to each other and how long it took us to start working together and not being sarcastic every five seconds, sure,” Kanan said. “Why?”
“And you know we’d never try to hurt each other, right?”
This statement made Kanan look up. He frowned at Kasmir. “This sounds like something that’s either going to actually hurt a lot at some point or one of Ezra’s evasive apologies. What’s going on?”
Kasmir frowned thoughtfully. “How best to explain…”
Kanan narrowed his eyes at his friend, but before he could speak, a familiar jolt went through the ship. “Did we just come out of hyperspace?”
“Yes, we did,” Kasmir said. “Look, kid, here’s the thing. You’re a basket case.”
“Excuse me?” Kanan said incredulously.
“That’s right. You’ve been working crazy hard lately, and not resting enough. Also, you’re getting increasingly grumpy, and it’s annoying.”
“You know what’s really annoying?” Kanan snapped. “Having a nosy crew member like you--”
“Therefore,” Kasmir interrupted, “you’re taking a vacation.”
Giving him a look like he was crazy, Kanan said, “Kasmir, Rebel spies do not take vacations.”
“They do now,” the Kalleran told him. “Fulcrum approved it, and she even picked out a planet we can dump you on for a week, and we called ahead to reserve a cottage for you. Between me and the rest of the crew, we can handle anything that comes our way. Ezra even has your bag packed, including a detonator that Jyn added and you probably won’t use, but who knows?”
“You’re missing one extremely important detail,” Kanan said flatly. “I have absolutely no intention of going on vacation.”
Kasmir sighed. “I had a feeling you’d say that.”
Ten minutes later, Kanan found himself being unceremoniously tossed out of the Yellow Submarine , the large freighter he and his crew lived on. Hitting the landing platform with a groan, he rolled over just in time to avoid the duffel bag that came flying out after him.
“Have fun,” Kasmir said unsympathetically. “Don’t die. We’ll see you in a week.”
Kanan scrambled to his feet as the door to the Submarine slid shut, and it slowly rose into the air. Watching it go, Kanan briefly contemplated chasing after it, but that would probably just cause more of a scene. Looks like I’m stuck here, he thought. Wherever here is.
Whatever planet Kasmir had dumped him on, it was beautiful, Kanan had to admit that. Taking in the palm trees and grass surrounding the landing platform, he took a deep breath of the sun-warmed air, catching a tang of salt. Tropical, then. Well, it could be a lot worse, knowing Kasmir. Let’s see about finding that cottage he mentioned.
He grabbed his bag and made his way down past the other landing pads, which had been arrayed in a row. A long, narrow path ran along them, leading past a small clump of palm trees and up to a cluster of buildings, including a gift shop, restaurant, bar and an official-looking building that had a small sign reading “Check In.”
Kanan made a beeline for this building. He stepped through one of the double doors at the same moment as a Twi’lek woman stepped out, neither one of them taking much notice of each other. Inside, Kanan headed to the front desk, which was manned by a Nautolan male with yellow-orange skin. “Afternoon,” he said politely. “What can I do for you?”
“Apparently I have a reservation for a cottage,” Kanan said.
“Under what name?” the Nautolan asked, picking up his datapad. Behind him, Kanan spotted a small child, with blue skin and bright red eyes. He gave the little boy a quick grin, which was hesitantly returned.
“Jarrus, I guess?” Kanan said. “Unless it’s under Kasmir-- there are a couple potential names. I didn’t make the reservation.”
The Nautolan seemed unaffected by that statement. “Let me see…” As he tapped at the screen of his datapad, the little boy slid forward so he stood next to him, giving Kanan a curious look.
“I’m Kanan,” Kanan told him. “What’s your name?”
“I’m Nalren,” the boy responded with a smile. “I like your eyebrows.”
Kanan snorted. “You’re not the first to say that. Thanks. Any chance you could tell me what planet we’re on?”
“It’s Rion,” Nalren said, frowning at him. “Why don’t you know that?”
“Long story,” Kanan said with a sigh. “Do you live here?”
Nalren nodded. “Uh-huh. Me and Finian.” He nodded at the Nautolan, who looked up from the datapad.
“I found your reservation,” he told Kanan. “You are, in fact, under Jarrus. It’s cottage 416-- here’s your key.”
“Which is where?” Kanan asked, grabbing the metal key from the counter.
Standing up, Finian pointed. “Go past the bar and there’s a path that’ll lead you to the cottages. You’re in row four, sixteenth down, hence the number.”
“Gotcha. Do I pay now, or--”
“You’re already squared away,” Finian assured him, and Kanan sighed.
“I was afraid you were gonna say that.” He didn’t even want to know how much Kasmir had spent on this place. “Thanks for your help-- you, too, Nalren,” he added.
The little boy beamed at him, his innocent smile reminding Kanan of… well, of himself. A younger him, before the Empire, that didn’t carry all the weight Kanan so often felt. A better him.
Alright, Jarrus, that’s enough maudlin thoughts for today, he told himself, mentally shaking himself.
“Before you go,” Finian said, snapping him out of his daze, “I should let you know. Included with your cottage was a table at the restaurant down the street. Free dinners, although lunch and breakfast have to be paid for, and there’s a buffet.”
“Nice,” Kanan said. “Any other free amenities I should know about?”
“Well, your cottage has been stocked with some of the basics for food and such,” Finian said. “But it’s pretty bare minimum. There’s a grocery store a few miles inland-- I can write down directions if you want.”
“Please do,” Kanan said, and the Nautolan obligingly scribbled out some directions on a scrap of paper. “Thanks,” Kanan told him, pocketing the paper and heading out of the door.
He made his way down the path Finian had told him about, quietly counting off buildings until he reached his-- a smallish building with an old-fashioned door on hinges. The grass in the front was neatly trimmed, and the paint on the outside was a weathered but still bright shade of green. Unlocking the door, Kanan let himself in.
The cottage was only one level, with the front door opening into a tiny entryway, which led into the kitchen/dining room. Kanan quickly found the bedroom, which had a window with a lovely view of the cabin right behind his, and took a few minutes to examine the contents of his bag.
“Did they pack me any normal clothing?” he muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. Ezra had eschewed literally anything Kanan would usually wear, instead opting for a lot of shorts and t-shirts, including a number of shirts with horrifyingly bright flower prints on them. The bag also contained a comlink, a pair of sunglasses that had somehow been snapped in half since they’d been put in the bag, and a detonator. Kanan frowned at the last one for a moment, then moved on.
It didn’t take long for him to unpack. By that time, Kanan was ready for dinner, and he decided to head down to the restaurant Finian had mentioned. After a moment’s deliberation, he decided to leave his blaster behind. He had a feeling it wouldn’t really blend in at this particular restaurant, and he could probably handle whatever came his way without it. The dual pieces of his lightsaber, on the other hand, he left on his belt. Better safe than sorry, he thought as he headed for the door.
The restaurant in question was a combination of casual and semi-formal, which meant it was nicer than most places Kanan usually went to. As he stepped inside, a member of the staff moved forward, giving him a friendly smile. “Good evening, sir,” she said. “I assume you’re one of the guests?”
“You assume correctly,” Kanan replied. “I was told that there was a table for me here.”
“There is,” the young woman assured him. “What’s your cottage number?”
Kanan gave her the number, and she tapped at the screen of the datapad she held. “Looks like your table is down that way-- it should be next to the water sculpture,” she said.
“Thanks very much,” Kanan said.
He spotted the water sculpture easily enough-- an elaborate thing made of twisting glass and stone, with water coming from the top to run down the sides into the basin at the bottom. He also spotted his table. And someone sitting at it-- a Twi’lek woman.
Crossing the room, Kanan paused at the table. “Excuse me--” he began, but the words caught in his throat when she looked up, bright green eyes meeting his and widening with the same shock he felt. Then they narrowed, and a slight smile lifted the corner of her mouth.
“Kanan Jarrus,” she said. “I might have known.”
~ ~ ~
As Hera watched him, Kanan recovered his equilibrium quickly. “Hera Syndulla,” he said with his usual smirk. “You know, I’m starting to wonder if you’re following me.”
Scoffing, Hera said, “You only wish, dear. What are you doing at my table?”
“Funny story-- this is my table,” Kanan said. “Or so I was told by one of the staff.”
“No,” Hera told him. “This is the table for cottage 614, not whatever yours is. It is literally engraved on the table.” Hera tapped the spot where the numbers were engraved, and Kanan bent down to squint at them.
“Huh,” he said after a moment. “I stand corrected. I’m in 416, that must be the reason for the mixup. In that case, we’ll call this another weird coincidence, and I’ll get out of your way.”
“Or you could stay.”
The words were out before Hera knew where they were coming from, surprising her slightly. Not, however, as much as they startled Kanan. His jaw dropped slightly, and he stared at her in shock for a moment. “Wha-- why?” he asked. “Not that I mind, but why would you want me to stay?”
For a moment, Hera considered coming up with some kind of lie as a cover, but discarded the notion quickly. For some reason, she didn’t like the idea of lying to Kanan-- at least not more than she had to. “The thing is, I’m here alone,” she told him. “And as much as I need a break, I wouldn’t mind some company.”
Kanan stared at her for another moment, then nodded. “Sure, why not?” Pulling out the chair across from hers, he shot her a grin. “Should have known you couldn’t resist me.”
Rolling her eyes, Hera said, “Okay, allow me to rephrase what I said earlier. You can stay, the flirting cannot. I’m on vacation, dear.”
“Fair enough,” Kanan said with a shrug. “So, what brings you to Rion?”
Giving a wry grin, Hera said, “Well, it’s my crew’s fault, actually. According to them, I’ve been working too hard lately, and I need a break-- what is so funny?”
“I’m sorry,” Kanan said, obviously attempting to hold back his laughter and failing. “Sorry-- it’s just, that’s exactly what happened to me.”
Hera gaped at him. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope. One of my crew told me that I’m a basket case and I need a vacation, and they literally dumped me here with nothing but a bag full of clothing and a detonator,” Kanan explained.
Hera laughed. “A basket case, you say? Somehow, I can’t really picture that.”
“If I’m being honest, they had a point,” Kanan admitted with a grimace. “A break is probably going to do me some good. I can definitely see you needing a break, though.”
Arching an eyebrow, Hera said, “Oh you can now, can you?”
“Well, yeah,” Kanan said with a shrug. “Whenever I bump into you, you’re working. I might not know a lot about your particular line of work, but it wouldn’t surprise me to hear that you were the busiest of the group.”
“There’s nothing wrong with being busy,” Hera protested.
“I agree,” Kanan said. “But even leaders like yourself need a break.”
Reluctantly, Hera nodded. “I know, I know. Why do you think I’m here?”
“Common sense, I suppose,” Kanan said with a half-grin. “How’s your crew doing?”
“Pretty well,” Hera replied. “Although still extremely curious about the half-dead gunslinger I dragged onto the ship last month.”
“What’s to be curious about?” Kanan said flippantly. “I’m an open book, you know. Also, I was not half-dead, that is an exaggeration.”
“Would you prefer mostly dead?” Hera asked sweetly. “You’d been stabbed. And then thrown out a window into a dumpster.”
“But I survived,” Kanan pointed out.
“Yeah, thanks to me.”
“That was-- yeah. It kinda was thanks to you.”
Hera had to grin at his somewhat sheepish expression. “On the bright side of life,” she said, “I finally got to meet some of this crew you keep alluding to, but refuse to tell me anything about.”
Kanan grimaced. “Ah, yes. That. In all fairness, I guess I did tell you to call Kasmir.”
“Are you ever going to tell me about any of the others?” Hera asked, curious despite herself.
“Nope.”
“Why not? You’ve met my crew-- some of them without me around, I might add.”
Leaning back in his chair, Kanan dead-panned, “I need to maintain my air of mystery. Also, they’re really annoying. If anything, I’m sparing you.”
“That feels like an excuse,” Hera said. “But I’m going to allow it. For now.”
“Thank you, Captain Hera,” Kanan said, shooting her a grin.
One of the waiters arrived at their table and took their orders. He didn’t mention the fact that Kanan was at the wrong table, and neither he nor Hera bothered to mention it. To her own surprise, she found she was enjoying herself, being around Kanan.
She always was, to a certain degree, glad to see him. If she was being honest, Hera would admit that she liked the bantering, playful friendship they’d established, despite Kanan’s habit of flirting.
But this time, he wasn’t flirting. Which, Hera mused, could make things very interesting.
It wasn’t long before their meal came, and their conversation continued over dinner, and past it, until Hera caught sight of the time on a clock on the wall.
“It’s gotten late,” she said in surprise. “I’d better get going.”
“Have somewhere to be?” Kanan asked, and Hera grinned.
“Not at all,” she admitted. “I like the idea of getting a little more rest than I usually do.”
Kanan nodded. “I can’t argue with that. Do you mind if I walk with you?”
“Why not?” Hera said, getting to her feet.
The two of them headed out of the restaurant, making their way down the path to where the cottages were located. The sun had long since set, and four moons shimmered above them against the starry sky.
They walked in silence until Kanan stopped at one of the rows of cottages. “My stop,” he said with an easy grin. He paused for a moment, then said, “See you around, Captain Hera. Make sure you get some of that rest you were talking about.”
“I fully intend to,” Hera assured him. “Good night, Kanan.”
And with that, they parted ways. But Hera was absolutely certain she hadn’t seen the last of Kanan Jarrus. And if she was being honest, she didn’t want to.