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One of the beauty spots of the galaxy, Aldeeraan could certainly battle with Naboo for the best honeymoon destination.
Kanan could appreciate the nicety of Commander Sato permitting Hera to travel to Aldeeraan, especially considering the busyness of the whole rebellion thing. He also could appreciate that he was allowed to assist Hera on the mission. What he found himself actually doing was silently contemplating smacking Sato in the face because he really didn’t appreciate someone else ordering Hera about - especially someone that wasn’t Hera.
He knew it came with the formal rebellion organisation, and it had been long since he’d adjusted to the whole thing. Although there were times where he would seethe silently when Hera wasn’t authorised to share information or when she had to follow protocol and end up a world away to assist with some random mission.
At least now they were fortunate enough to share the uninterrupted privacy of a two-person mission, even if it did leave them stranded on Alderaan. Kanan was just happy to have some time alone with Hera, and part of him (all of him) hoped she felt the same way.
Hera, naturally, was pacing back and forth, arms crossed and brows furrowed in an all too obvious display of impatience. She was not taking the delay in returning to base lightly.
Kanan debated with himself about whether to soothe her growing tension. Hera did not like leaving the Ghost, which was something that had always been privy to Kanan. Even in the most adverse circumstances, he could recall how she’d flatly refuse a decent bed in favour of the flat, miserable excuse of a mattress in her cabin. He outright laughed when he discovered that her room was more of a secondary engine considering the amount of tech laying around, which almost got him sentenced to his own room that night.
Now, with the addition of the Rebellion alliance and its bulky Liberator, Hera did not appreciate leaving either ship behind for an overnight stay which could’ve been avoidable. In her opinion, it was avoidable, however the general consensus was that an impending blockade was very much not avoidable.
Standing in the the atrium of Senator Bail Organa’s home, the Royal House of Alderaan, Kanan was surprisingly not as restless as Hera. He wasn’t a fan of the stuffy lifestyle left only to a few after the Clone War. It was surprising to witness how the Empire left Alderaan alone, for the most part. There were no suspicions from the Organas, and Senator Organa was certainly no puppet. Obviously, with two members of a formal Rebellion invited to stay the night, it seemed Bail Organa had no intention of rallying with the Empire.
“Of course there’s a sudden blockade preventing us from leaving the planet!” Hera huffed on her fifth lap of the room. The formality Hera carried when on visits with aids and allies subsided when she was left alone with Kanan. He didn’t mind, even if she was peeved, because he took it as a compliment that Hera subconsciously relaxed around him.
”You heard the Senator, he said the destroyers don’t have authority to land here to stake out unauthorised ships, so they’re just waiting for us to leave the atmosphere. Not technically a blockade, not a harsh one at least.” Kanan explained from where he propped himself against the armrest of the longest couch he’d ever seen. It seemed the formality left Kanan a long time before stepping foot in the Royal House of Alderaan.
“Still, I can get past a couple of destroyers.” She shrugged as she met his eye, baiting him.
Kanan considered himself too clever to argue with Hera, especially when she was right about something. Still, it didn’t stop him from trying.
”Did you not hear yourself when you said blockade?” Kanan chuckled, watching Hera turn swiftly on her heel.
“Did you not just say not technically a blockade?” When Hera moved to stand in front of him, Kanan readjusted himself to meet her height, sitting on the armrest. He offered her a knowing smile and then his hand.
In place of Ryloth was the Rebellion, the new home she didn’t like being away from.
“I got past one blockade, what makes the second so difficult?” Hera toyed with his hand, her nimble, unfortunately-gloved fingers running over his skin.
“Damn right you could.” Kanan squeezed her hand, enveloping it beneath his fingers. She had come so close to him and he didn’t feel like letting her return to pacing, not when he could hold her.
Hera beamed at him, the tiniest hint of a blush under he eyes. It didn’t take him long to get used to General Hera, but he forever favoured the Hera that was his in quieter times where there didn’t have to be any words between them at all.
Hera murmured her thanks and leaned in for what seemed like, to Kanan’s shock, a kiss. Just as her lips were about to meet his, the doors to the room sounded to reveal Senator Bail Organa.
Hera jerked back, releasing her hand from Kanan’s to which he sent a dramatic frown her way. He straightened up as the senator walked in.
“You must inform the Rebellion that Alderaan is truly sorry for robbing them of their best pilot.” Senator Organa breezed into the room, his caped regalia billowing behind him.
Hera’s features softened, which always happened when she received an honest compliment. Kanan struggled to pull his gaze from her, which always happened.
“They’ll understand.”
“Like I said, we would be delighted to host you until that little…issue on the surface is resolved.” Senator Organa gave a sly nod before continuing, “there is no need for altercation.” Then with his voice lowered, Senator Organa added. “They usually give up after a cycle anyway.”
“So, two rooms or one?” Senator Organa asked, looking between the two of them.
Kanan turned to Hera, bowing his head just slightly in her direction, leaving it up to her to decide. She quickly regarded him with wide eyes, a horrified expression that instantly made him wonder what was wrong?
That was, the wrong thing to do apparently. If the pause in conversation wasn’t enough of an answer, the angling of his body towards Hera was plenty.
“Two, of course!” Hera flushed furiously.
Kanan swallowed, then forced a laugh as he faced the Senator again. The tiniest wry smile appeared on Senator Organa’s face for a flash of a second, then it disappeared leaving just the curious arch of his brow.
“As you wish.” As soon as Senator Organa nodded politely and turned his back, Hera sent lethal daggers to Kanan and then he knew he was in trouble.
Before Hera could hiss at him (or shoot him if her expression wasn’t to be underestimated), a young woman appeared from one the serval closed doors behind Senator Organa, her hair was wrapped in braids and she donned a pair of white trousers in place of a skirt. There was a small droid that flew around her shoulders. Kanan wanted to laugh, knowing if Hera could convert Chopper into a practical plate-sized hover-droid she could carry anywhere she wanted, she would.
Senator Organa smiled fondly at the young woman. She carried herself with a remarkable fierceness that reminded Kanan of one of the senators during the Clone War, one he couldn’t quite remember the name of. She looked a little similar too.
“Let me introduce my daughter, Leia, Princess of Alderaan.”
Princess Leia nodded politely, the small droid hovering around her shoulders chirped a few times.
“Those destroyers are upsetting the sunset.” The Princess smiled smartly. She looked towards Kanan and then her gaze settled on Hera. “Should we ask them to move?”
Hera looked like she was about to plead a serious ‘yes’ before Senator Organa intervened.
“Ah, Captain Syndulla, my daughter can take you to her chambers where you can send a private message to your comrades.” Senator Organa gestured to his daughter, and then with an almost smug look, he added. “It will go unnoticed by our allies.”
Hera, just barely calm, nodded swiftly to Senator Organa as she thanked him. She joined Princess Leia in walking to one of the doors and the two quickly disappeared, the noise of the two of them chattering feverishly echoing.
Senator Organa turned back to Kanan, this time with an actual smug look.
“So, two rooms?” He said without hesitation, “I don’t think my staff will be pleased about wasting good linen.”
Kanan, a bit baffled and lost for words, tried to think of something to say that Hera would approve of. After a long blank thought, he decided on a mixture of a bunch of explanations.
“Yeah…she…well - she likes to keep it low-key - you know, need-to-know basis, and all.” He gave a toothy grin, and tried to hang onto most of his composure, which seemed impossible when he usually fell to pieces thinking about Hera.
“I understand,” The Senator smiled, “with the looming Empire, I think we all feel that way sometimes.”
“Yeah.” Kanan said after a moment, “don’t tell her I told you.”
”I wouldn’t dream of it.” Senator Organa chuckled. “She seems…terrifying.”
Kanan smiled fondly to himself, probably a bit too publicly smitten “She is.”
”It is a good thing to have - love,” Senator Organa smiled to himself, as if he was fetching a memory of his own, “in times like this.”
The skyline of Lothal was always beautiful. In the mornings and throughout the long hot days, it was a dusty gold and wrapped up in beige, matching the decor of all the sandy coloured houses. At night, it was deep and dark, soaked in the stars as it whispered a cold. It was a scenic spot, except when Hera was seeing all the beauty of night at a million miles an hour.
By ducking under the spray of blaster bolts, she ended up skidding to a halt. The abruptness of her action meant that it was too late to warn Sabine who bumped into her from behind. The two of them fell the floor of the rooftop building, with Hera taking the brunt of the fall.
The weight of Sabine disappeared immediately as the younger girl rolled off her. There was a click of a blaster that indicated Sabine had already taken out whoever had shot at them.
Even with a dizzy gaze, she was still able to witness the stars. Although, with a spectacular array of weaponry pointed at them, it was difficult to truly soak up the view.
“Down here!” Sabine called, gesturing wildly to an obscured location on her left. Before Hera could even rise to her feet, Sabine grabbed her and yanked her behind a crate.
At least on foot they could avoid the blaster bolts by darting around - it was the TIE overhead that was irritating Hera. She was breathing heavily, a panic rising within her at such a quick pace that she checked herself over for any hidden wounds.
“Whose idea was it to come up to the roof, again?” Sabine asked with her usual wry tone. Hera rolled her eyes, but at least it meant the teenager was okay.
“Yours?” Hera rubbed her elbow, feeling the beginning of a painful bruise. Sabine made a little tutting noise and if Hera could see past her helmet, she’d wager that the girl donned a sly smirk too.
“Spectre-Two to Spectre-One, you alright?” Hera peered over the edge of the crate, narrowly avoiding another shot sent directly at her, and spied around for the rest of the crew.
She felt Sabine rise on her heels to join her. They both watched as Ezra leapt from his hiding spot with Rex in quick succession behind him. That was good - it meant Kanan and Zeb weren’t far. Hera sided down the crate, pushing her back against it as she sighed heavily.
”All good, Spectre-Two. I’ve eyes on Four and Six - you?” Kanan’s voice was a relief to hear.
“I’ve got Spectre-Five with me.”
Another round of bolts sent Hera and Sabine scrambling to the ground. It was frustrating knowing there was little their compact guns could do - Hera wished to be in the Ghost, with its spectacular nose turret and array of weaponry at the touch of a button.
“It’s a dead-end!” Ezra groaned, throwing his hands up in the air - this action did not go unnoticed by Agent Kallus and his company of stormtroopers, with a blaster bolt almost sizzling Ezra’s hand.
“Hey kid!” A gruff groan was audible as Rex gripped Ezra’s jacket, roughly seizing him back down.
Kanan whisked around the corner, swivelling around to fire back towards the stormtroopers. He ran in a zig-zag which helped him narrowly avoid a bolt to the leg. In one smooth motion, he slid down to meet Hera and Sabine.
“Fancy seeing you here,” he quipped as he ran a hand through his hair, toying with the band that kept his unruly locks together before yanking it out spontaneously.
“Where’s Zeb?” Hera hissed, studying Kanan as he bit back a tiny moan of pain. Her eyes floated to his now free hair, catching the reddish mark around his neck. Whatever had hit him must’ve burned, a graze to his skin that was beginning to sting by the looks of it.
“Over there, testing the path,” Kanan nodded in the direction of - well, nothing. They were concealed behind a crate that was positioned near the edge of the roof. He quietly swore again as he touched his injured neck.
“Testing the path? What are you talking about?” Hera uttered, fighting the urge to haul him towards her and patch him up herself.
”I think he means that!” Sabine nudged Hera, prompting her to look up and follow the sharp Lasat-shaped blur flurrying across the roof.
”Ah!” The growl of Zeb ricocheted off the crates and metal, and soon the proper picture of the Lasat soared through the air.
The noise seemed to reach the band of stormtroopers and Agent Kallus who paused momentarily to watch Zeb fling himself over the edge of the building. His cry carried as he plummeted down, disappearing from sight within a second.
“What the -“ Sabine exclaimed from under her helmet, scrambling to the edge in a frenzy.
“That’s the path - that’s our way out!” Kanan said triumphantly, as if he was staring in the place of a foolproof plan.
“You’re kidding,” Sabine retorted, “oh wait, you’re not.”
”I don’t know why the girl with a jet pack is complaining.” Kanan chimed in return.
Another round of fire was exchanged as the Stormtroopers regained their control, following orders to continue shooting - probably until every one of their enemies had willingly jumped off the building. That would solve a few of Agent Kallus’ problems. Hera signed into her palm as she heard the familiar scurrying of Ezra and a beat after, Rex falling into place beside him.
“Isn’t this fun?” The Clone said roughly, ducking behind the crate.
“Listen, our only way out is that exit -“ Kanan gestured to the edge of the building, the landscape of the skies, “- so it’s gonna have to work, or how do you like the life of an Imperial prisoner?”
”Fine, but only I have a jet pack. What are the rest of you going to do?” Sabine argued.
“Don’t worry - Grandpa has a jet pack too, and Ezra will be just fine.” Kanan said casually, throwing a chipper look towards his padawan.
Sabine muttered a curse that was lost in the sound of the fire. As she was about to argue, another explosion occurred, causing the building to shake.
“Guess that’s my cue!”
Her hand drew a two-fingered salute off her helmet as she thumbed the controls for the jet pack strapped to her back. In the midst of the smoke, she managed to dart through as a missable target. The jet pack burst with orange and yellow flames, sending her over the rooftop with an echoing yell.
“Attagirl,” Kanan said proudly, turning back to the remaining crew as a loud TIE circled overhead.
“We’ll have to jump,” Ezra peered over the edge, and then he tilted his head to the side at Hera, “well, some of us.”
Hera narrowed her eyes at him, she had her own opinion on the tip of her tongue before a guttural sound of the above TIE silenced her. Before she could speak again, she felt Kanan dive into her with his arms raised.
“Get down!” Kanan’s hand clutched the back of her head, forcing her to duck. When another fire of bolts rang out, Kanan leapt to cover more of her body with his.
“You alright?”
Hera’s nose ached from where it had butted the ground, and a light sensation from where Kanan had collapsed above her. He grunted as he moved, allowing her to slide out from under him.
“Where’s Ezra?” Hera said urgently, panic rising in her voice as she squinted through the smoke for any evidence of hair the colour of a midnight sky.
“He’s fine!” Kanan grabbed Hera’s arm and jerked her towards Ezra and Rex who rolled away in the opposite direction to shield themselves.
They collectively ducked as another set of laser bolts sailed from the TIE. Ezra turned sheepishly towards the group, a hand skirting through his unruly hair.
“So, the only way out is jumping off the roof?”
“Want me to take the Captain?” Rex called, ducking as wave of fire blasted overhead. He’d half heartedly offered his hand like he already knew the answer was going to be Kanan scoffing and rolling his eyes with a defiant ‘no way’ on his tongue.
”I’ve got her.” Kanan replied, doing his best not to show his affronted expression.
“You do?” Ezra’s doubtful voice sounded over the bolts, his hair was whipping in the wind and his eyes were wider than ever.
“Trust in the Force, Ezra.” Kanan pulled himself up with Hera, keeping an arm over her shoulders. He spoke calmly to Ezra as if several dozen blasters weren’t pointed in their direction.
”Is this really the best time for a lesson?” Rex teased.
”You seem to learn best in the moment - so, when you’re ready.” Kanan remained focused on Ezra, who took a step towards the ledge. His eyes immediately closed upon Kanan’s command of focus.
“Trust in the Force and it will guide you,” Kanan continued, almost soothingly, like they were just back on Lothal meditating, “you can make the jump, you just have to feel it.”
Ezra inhaled deeply, and with the encouragement of Kanan, and what Hera assumed was the Force alongside him, he leaped off the building with the grace of a lothkitten.
”I’ll follow you, kid.” Rex called.
Mirroring Sabine, Rex saluted before jumping off the ledge. A burst of a fire from his jet pack sent him upwards momentarily before he directed himself down, and then he disappeared from view altogether.
”Come on.” Kanan turned to Hera, reaching for her hand. Smoothly, he hoisted her into his arms with only a tiny protest.
”Kanan -“
“Relax - oh, and hold on.” He wagged his brows at her, lips curling into a grin.
Hera scoffed loudly, although instantly wrapped her arms around him. Falling to her death was not an option, not right now.
“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” She whispered anxiously into his neck, hiding her face in the warmth of his sweater.
“You’re doubting me? And I thought we got past that.”
“I’m doubting your ability to jump off a seventeen-storey building, not you as a person.”
”Good, because I know how you truly feel about me - and I know how much you like it when I hold you,” he pulled her more tightly towards him with a squeeze.
”A little discretion.” Hera urged, quickly freeing her hand from around his neck to tug at his hair.
“Oh, I love it when you’re rough with me,” he drawled into her shielded earcone, “plus we’re about to jump off a building, what’s the need for subtlety?”
Kanan took another step over the ledge and then they were sailing down. The wind whipped and snapped at Hera, forcing her to duck further into him. Kanan’s grip only tightened on her as the skies slowed down and the building came to an end.
They landed abruptly, but shockingly Kanan kept his feet on the ground. Even with the additional skills of being a Jedi, Hera still doubted the actual ability to jump and land injury-free off a skyscraper. Hera was too comfortable in Kanan’s arms, settling into him with ease. The scene around her was not letting her have a peaceful moment, so she squirmed in his grip to reach the ground.
Before Kanan released her, he nudged her into the crook of his neck for a fleeting embrace. His fingers firmly squeezed her thigh and arm, where his hands held her tightly. He might’ve whispered something like you okay but Hera’s head and heart were still reeling after the jump, everything was blocked out.
“Aren’t you two adorable?” Sabine sang childishly as Hera dropped to her feet, “now, come on - they’re catching up!”
Ezra was looking away politely, his face flushed under the starry light. Rex and Zeb were engaged in obvious conversation, angling themselves away, their acknowledgment was an offering of privacy.
Hera’s mouth opened to argue, not sure who to target first between Sabine and Kanan, but the crew had already jumped back into the fray. She felt Kanan’s hand clasp her shoulder, giving her a light squeeze.
It was irrelevant, and foolish. Hera felt her jaw tighten, her teeth clench together. The woman should’ve known better than to reject subtlety with a wanted insurgent - dubbed extremist by the Empire - for a brother!
Hera wasn’t really sure why Kanan was so interested in Saw Gerrera anyway. Maybe they were both Clone War veterans in two different ways, but even if they were somehow lifelong friends, Hera had no clue why Steela was so relevant to the conversation.
When the holo flickered off, erasing both Kanan and Steela (and the hint of a smirking Sabine in the background), Hera swallowed hard and glared into the empty distance. The Ghost had never felt so lonely, and receiving a normal holomessage with an update on the mission progress was making her behave totally irrationally. It was far from normal when she felt her heart speed up and clench in wild contortions, and she recognised the pang that seeped low in her stomach.
It wasn’t that she was jealous. No, she wasn’t the type to be jealous, and certainly not because of any man.
It was more of a military angle, yes. The mission was basic enough - seek out the famed Saw Gerrera on his homeworld and offer a collaboration project. That was important, and if it worked, it was going to assist the rebellion tremendously. There was also the question of Saw allying with the rebellion, but all that would be wiped completely off the table if anything went wrong.
There was no denying that Saw would have followers, and it was understandable that he’d include his own sister in his band of insurgents. Hera just couldn’t piece together why it was so vital for this Steela to collaborate with Kanan. Not when the main focus of the mission was to draw Saw in.
Hera smacked her forehead with her palm. Force, if Kanan could see her now. He would tease her, never let her forget it - that was if he knew. Hera had no desire to reveal to him that there was a small green panging under all of her clothes, thrumming into her heart at each beckon of this Steela.
It was not a rash thought, and she was not being irrational.
There was little she could do except wait for them to arrive back to base.
Right.
Right.
Then all too quickly, she found herself entering the cockpit and starting the engine, yanking the yoke to begin a sharp ascent, harder and faster than normal. There would be no issues with one additional rebel on site, especially since her entire crew were already there. They were due to arrive back within the week, having already been stationed on Onderon for three weeks.
Chopper continued to bark at her while plugged into the navigation system. Her only companion had been the droid, and he’d mercilessly chipping away at her, berating her for succumbing to a man, or something like that.
It was less irrational when she stepped off the Ghost’s lowering ramp, not even fully descended as she walked across the path of metal to meet the grassy grounds of Onderon.
Chopper was beeping beside her, the not-so-tender mix of chastising and threatening. He also made a distasteful quip about her clothing, which didn’t make sense to Hera as she was dressed appropriately for the mission.
Dressed not in a flight suit, not even close. Gone was the modesty of her practical jumpsuit that she sported while piloting the Ghost, instead was a comfortable ensemble familiar only to Hera because it was a mock of traditional Ryl wear. Or, a very good attempt at traditional wear. With a modern twist. Maybe not battlefield appropriate at all…
A strap of brown fabric wrapped around her chest with a matching shrug that sported sleeves running from her shoulders to her fingers. Suitable for the battleground; the material on her hands preventing chafing from a blaster. Suitable for reminding her not-boyfriend but not-just-a-friend - her Kanan - that she was definitely not jealous.
The air was thick, the humidity dry. It reminded her of Ryloth. She shook her head, in turn wiggling her lekku and freeing them from their stiffness that was absolutely nothing to do with jealousy. Her hips easily moved with the combat trousers, snug at the waist and hips - everywhere essential. Yet, she didn’t want to be too overt, the trousers loosened around her thighs and downward.
She couldn’t care for the eyes on her, none of them were Kanan. She searched for him, squinting ahead at the small camp. Chopper was wheeling around her legs, chiming a “you can still get changed you know.”
There he was, stood against the suns. He was outlined in gold, his muscles defined and every point of his body prominent. The sunshine enhanced his beauty and Hera could do nothing but think of a place to relocate to with Kanan. Somewhere with lots and lots of sun.
Steela had her arms folded beside him, speaking up to him about something irrelevant probably. As Hera got closer, she got snippets of conversation. Something about growing up and family ties. It was unnecessary information, and they were wasting time conversing about her family connections as opposed to maintaining focus on the mission.
“Ezra was wondering - hey, you must be Hera, right?”
There she was, face-to-face with the grainy blue holo image. Steela Gerrera was not lacking in the looks department, she was an obvious beauty and perhaps the most beautiful of all on Onderon.
Steela noticed her first and Kanan followed, his eyes lighting up as he focused on her.
”Hera,” he said excitedly, angling his body towards her as if he was readying himself for a hug, “what are you doing here?”
”I thought you might need help.” Hera suggested, her expression poised and unreadable.
“Oh, I definitely do.” Kanan teased, his eyes lingering on her partially bare midriff. He cast a look over her face, concerned, watching as her gaze flickered between himself and Steela.
Kanan drew his brows together, glancing between the two women as he stepped closer to Hera. He hooked an arm around her, allowing his head to rest on her head as he waited for Hera’s approval to turn it to a full embrace.
“Nice to meet you, General,” Steela seemed like she was about to offer her hand but stopped, “I’ve heard wonderful things.”
Hera’s face became pinched. She opened her mouth in surprise, leaning up to question Kanan, but was too close to him. Her lips brushed his sweater and she felt him shimmy comfortably into her, gazing down at her sweetly.
“I guess I talk about you a lot?” He murmured sheepishly.
“I’ll let you guys catch up.” Steela took her exit, slipping into a brisk walk that took her closer into the camp.
“You have nothing to worry about,” Kanan said a few moments later, his hand still working along her mostly bare back.
“I’m not worried.” Hera said frustratedly, ignoring the ticklish sensation of Kanan’s lovely hands on her.
“Even so,” Kanan’s other arm joined in, wrapping around her other side to lock his hands together, “I thought you might’ve been a little -“
Hera raised her brow in warning, “- a little what?”
“- disheartened.” Kanan finished,
“Especially because you were alone without the rest of the crew, a little stressed, maybe?”
“Honestly, Kanan, I have no idea what you mean.” She shrugged, looking to the ground. She stepped out of their embrace, angling herself so that she faced to the side inside of directly to him.
”Okay, okay. That’s fine.”
“You can talk to me about anything,” Kanan said softly beside her, keeping his face ahead, “and there will never be anyone else.”
Hera nodded solemnly as she slid her hand into his, “Come on, show me what you’ve been teaching them.”
The slavers ship was a sizeable sail barge, floating above the skies of Tatooine. An ugly shape against the beautiful twin suns. It was bulky but unmissable, and that was working in his favour.
Kanan tapped Sabine on the shoulder, encouraging her to speed up. They were following the ship from the ground, using repurposed speeders that were certainly built for solo riders. Zeb and Ezra had thrown themselves over the second bike, but they were taking a different route. The plan was Kanan’s for once, they had no other option - there was no room for improvisation, not this time.
“That’s the one,” Kanan tipped his head towards the sky, his hand instinctively clutching the metal piece hanging off his belt.
“Can you get us closer?” He leaned towards Sabine eagerly, gesturing to the skies.
”For Hera? Always!” She slammed on the accelerator. The benefit of a speeder was that it was quicker than a sail barge, the oversized vessel floating slowly through the air.
When Kanan argued that he had plenty of room to make the jump, he shuffled back on the speeder, rising to his knees.
“Stay here, don’t you dare step foot on that barge, understood?” He instructed, placing a hand on Sabine’s shoulder to look directly at her helmet, envisioning her bickering eyes staring back at him.
“Yeah, yeah. I know, I know. Just go get her,” she sounded exhausted - they all were. The temporarily loss of their Captain had not been easy on anyone.
“Alright, get back to Zeb. I’ll signal him.” Kanan rose to his full height, his hand skirting along his waistband to double check the full saber hilt was still there. Since he’d decided to wear it fully again, he’d occasionally found himself feeling for the skinny metal piece. Maybe it was a nervous thing too, and right now, he was more anxious than ever.
Graceful and practiced, Kanan leaped up to the sail barge, swinging promptly onto the deck. Vaguely, he heard the roar of the bike below, swerving to race in the opposite direction. That was good, Sabine was following directions. They all were.
The deck was basically empty apart from a few slave girls and pirates. They’d chosen the right time to board the ship - the hot sunny afternoon wasn’t suitable for the oversized Hutts. The rest of the party must’ve been indoors, and he really needed them to stay there. Kanan kept himself hidden, using boxes and high-sided crates to shield his figure from the pirates.
Relief gushed over him as he laid eyes on Hera, alive and in sight, just seconds away from him. He watched as her body tensed up as if she knew he was there, recognising his presence before her eyes confirmed it.
She sat in a pool of gold, a yellow skirt barely covering her legs - a carpet for the ground as opposed to any sort of clothing. Her hands lamely sat in her lap, guarding her exposed stomach. Kanan couldn’t help how his lips curled in disgust as he moved behind her, concealing himself from the pirates.
Hera twisted around, eyes searching for him. The beads and stones bejewelling her clothes scratched the ground as she moved, arms reaching up to him.
Kanan scanned her, searching for any injuries. No collar, thankfully. She wasn’t leashed or cuffed which made the getaway slightly easier, plus there was no sign of marks around her wrists. Hopefully she’d never been bound at all.
“Hey, sweetheart.” Kanan dropped to his knees, a hand immediately cupping her bruised face. He rubbed his thumb over the mark tentatively, hoping to wipe it off like it was a smudge or smear. It was more permanent than that, all her damage would be.
Hera had never looked so delighted to have been referred to as ‘sweetheart’ and Kanan hoped his severe look of assurance was enough to keep her in that frame of mind.
“Kanan.” She said weakly, a nimble hand lifting to touch his face in return. She only made it to his shoulder, but that didn’t matter. The acknowledgment was enough, and it prompted Kanan to lean forward and brush his lips against her forehead.
“Let’s get out of here,” Kanan whispered against her earcone, his arms sweeping around her to collect her. He gently encouraged her to her feet, a hand placed protectively on her back.
“Spectre-One to Ghost, we need a pick-up!” Kanan clicked his comm, his hand strummed soothing circles over Hera’s skin. “Head to the front balcony, platform ledge - close as you can!”
“You’ve got a different ride, Spectre-One.” Zeb replied, his voice crisp through the commlink.
“Care to elaborate?” Kanan said tersely, even the tiniest part of the plan changing was not sitting well with him. Ever the one for improvisation, he was not enjoying the lack of commitment to the plan!
“We’re heading to the rear balcony. Be ready.”
Kanan swore under his breath, darting his head around to look for access to the further balcony. A frail green hand came into his view, gesturing ahead.
”It’s that way…” Hera pointed, her voice wary and small.
”Yeah, sweetheart - we’re just gonna have to bypass those guys.” His gaze lingered on the pirates snoozing under the sun, scarves protecting their faces but blasters resting on their stomachs.
“They won’t wake up,” a voice called, “they’re out for a day or two.”
Kanan turned to see a young Twi’lek woman. Her skin was a radiant blue and markings were visible along her bare shoulders. She stood with her arms folded, her wrists cuffed together.
”They are?” Kanan asked, his brows knitting together.
”We laced their tea.” The Twi’lek replied simply, nodding to another group of women of different species that stood slightly behind her.
“Thank you.” Kanan said, his arm moving to Hera’s shoulders. “I suppose you better come with us.”
The blue-skinned Twi’lek led the way, her chains rattling until Kanan broke them perfectly in the two with the helping hand of the Force. She smiled gratefully and thanked him in Ryl, expecting him to understand.
“What are we supposed to do?” Another young woman asked, her hair braided into two long plaits. She took a step towards the railing of the balcony, peering over the edge, “Jump?”
Before Kanan could reply, a deafening sound of a ship - an Old Republic Gunship to be exact - was heard. The choking sound of the engine told him it was definitely old, he hadn’t seen one since the Clone War.
Both door panels to the ship slid open, revealing Ezra, Rex and a few other rebels from the base, clinging onto the hand hoops above their heads. Rex lifted his free hand in a ‘thumbs up’ gesture and then nodded to the ship.
“Right, ladies, your transport awaits!” Kanan unhooked his arm from Hera, but still encouraged her to stay beside him as he instructed the other slaves to use the grappling hooks.
With some assistance from the Force, Kanan guided each woman across to the Gunship. He watched as they lifted themselves up to the ledge, swinging without caution as they aimed for the ship. He had his hand raised quietly at his side, extinguishing his use of the Force to ensure they landed safely.
“Your turn,” he turned to Hera, looping his hand through hers. She smiled weakly at him in reply.
With one arm wrapped around her waist and his other latched onto the grappling hook, Kanan kissed Hera’s forehead for luck as he swung off the balcony.
The rope shot into the air, clinging to the Gunship with great efficiency. Rex waved, a gesture that meant everything was okay on his end. They were off, their feet without ground for just seconds, joining the now cramped ship full of rebels and slaves.
When they landed, Hera stumbled forward, almost bumping into Rex who politely sent her right back to Kanan.
His arms encircled her, holding her tightly. As she moved to properly return the embrace, her bejewelled headpiece collided with his lips, chin and beard. The gold metal hissed against his pauldron. Kanan wanted to rip the sinful costume away and incinerate it, replace it with his many sweaters. She could have any of his clothes, she could have anything from him.
All he saw was Hera. His hands found her face without thinking about it, forgetting that she may very well find touch abhorrent in the current moment.
In rejection of his thoughts, Hera twisted in his embrace, reclining her head to rest on his chest. A murmur of exhaustion slipped out, a tired groan. She closed her eyes, finally it was over.
Kanan knew she’d still see whatever happened to her behind the darkness of her closed eyes, but he could pretend that right now she was simply relaxing. He brought his hand up, tracing from her jaw to her cheek, short lines that didn’t work her up. She tilted her head into his palm, a makeshift pillow. She was shaking.
She’d said before that nothing made her feel as safe as his touch. Her lovely voice had spoken, saying that his kisses tasted like comfort and felt like security, and he needed to give her that and more. She may have spoken it cycles ago with no witnesses around, and it may have been a fleeting thought at the time, words uttered underneath him lost in breathlessness.
It didn’t matter who was around, he didn’t give a kriff about who was watching.
But Kanan could give her that.
Bringing his second hand up to cup her face, he gently tipped her head back against his chest and leant down to her. He was eager and keen, he’d wanted to kiss her again for so long. But he kept his caution, and slowly pressed his lips to her cheek, her nose, the corner of her mouth where she liked it.
Hera made a little noise in response, her lips curling into a smile. She managed to turn in his arms again, still clinging to him. A small embellishment of her metal bra snagged the fabric of his sweater, keeping them together.
“I’m okay.” She said softly, lips moving against his clothes.
“Are you sure?” He asked, his voice pleading.
“Nothing happened.”
“Are you lying?”
“Not to you.”
It was probably the way his hand came up instinctively to hold her head, cup under the pair of lekku in order to comfort her. The way he pressed her head into his chest, hoping his heartbeat would offer comfort somehow. That’s why there were multiple sets of feverish eyes blinking at them and then quickly looking away.
The chronowatch she’d tossed across the room in frustration was fractured upon collection. Hera brushed her thumb over the screen, avoiding the slice in the glass. It had been thirty-four minutes since the comms had crashed, since Zeb’s harrowing call had cut-out over the aggressive sound of bolts.
It wasn’t definite that something had gone wrong, everything was totally explainable. Zeb and Kanan could’ve easily lost their comms or stepped on them, it wouldn’t be the first time. If anything did happen, they’d already had enough time to travel to the base and receive medical attention. Thirty-four minutes was plenty of time for everything to go to plan.
The medbay was a decent walk away from where the Ghost was parked. Hera knew better than to hang around makeshift waiting rooms, that would only encourage the idea of an injured Zeb or Kanan. She circled the cockpit of the Ghost several times before Chopper ordered her to her seat.
There was no reason for her to worry, truly. Not when her crew had been in familiar scrapes before. There was a fuzzy feeling in her mouth as she thought about how Kanan sounded via Zeb’s commlink. How far away he sounded, and Hera was almost sure she wasn’t imaging his cry as the comm faltered.
“Jedi coming through!” The familiar growl of Zeb’s voice was unusually light considering the circumstances, he wore a half-grin as he half-carried Kanan through the galley.
Hera was already on her feet, whipping her head out from the cockpit, spying the sound. Her eyes widened as she realised Kanan was not cuddling into Zeb for any quality bonding time. There was dark patch of dried blood clinging to Kanan’s sweater, the edges both cut and crisp. Whatever had caught him had burned right through the fabric and, Hera’s stomach dropped, likely through his skin.
The view became blurred as she blinked furiously. She swallowed hard, forcing the little lump in her throat away. She could cry later, in the privacy of her own room, or Kanan’s if he would let her stay and nurse him.
Kanan was draped over Zeb by the time they reached the common room, completely bypassing Kanan’s cabin which only confused Hera. She crossed her arms, her brows furrowed as she neared them.
“He needs medical attention. You should’ve gone directly to the Liberator.” Hera ordered, her voice slick with authority. It was one of the ways she disguised her worry.
“Listen, Hera.” Zeb started, his arm finally leaving Kanan, allowing him to stand on his own. That was a mistake, Hera realised as Kanan tipped forward and ended up sprawled between the booth seating and table.
“We’ve already been.” Zeb said, eyeing Kanan with slight annoyance as if he was deliberately acting out like a child in front of a parent.
“But he’s -“ Hera pouted as she tried to find the words, any words, as she steadied her gaze on Kanan. Kanan, who was making friends with the furniture by flopping on his back on the cracked leather of the seat.
Obviously panic was setting into her. Kanan’s wound was clear but he didn’t seem to be in consistent pain, and he was sort-of able to move around by himself. Hera just questioned the bleary look in his eyes and his stumbling state.
She came to his side, sandwiching herself between the table and the booth he was currently lying in. There was a giddy grin on his face, and his hair was beginning to untie itself, fanning out behind him. It wasn’t the sight of a medical patient in serious distress, so Hera’s frantic heartbeat relaxed the tiniest amount.
“Hera!” Kanan’s face lit up like he’d just woken from a deep sleep. Like a comatose patient that spent an eternity in a slumber who suddenly reunited with their favourite part of reality, he jolted towards her.
“Woah,” Hera opened her arms wide, hoping to guide him carefully. Kanan was uneasy, stumbling to the side as his head drooped, he was both awake and asleep.
”Are you alright?” Hera grabbed his arms, forcing him to sit down even if it was the booth’s table instead of seating.
“Yeah. Well. He’s alright. Took a nasty bullet to the side, but we got the bacta slapped on it in time.” Zeb explained, “Medic said week or two ‘till he’s fully healed. Faster probably, since he’s a -“
“Oh.” Hera’s features softened. At least that was working in his favour for once, being a Jedi. She continued to fuss over him, hating it when he was injured regardless of his helpful abilities.
“Thing is…you never really mentioned that Kanan can’t exactly take pain medication.” Zeb scratched his chin, a rumble of smugness in the laugh he tried to bottle.
Hera paused from where she was scraping dry blood from Kanan’s face with her nail and combing hair out of his eyes. Her lekku twitched as she leaned up to face Zeb again.
“What?” She questioned, crossing her arms, “He can take meds. He just likes to refuse it, because he can get - ah.” She paused, biting her lip as she suddenly realised, “I see.”
Zeb grinned at her, it was enough to douse her with a handful of memories. The first time she’d gently encouraged him to take a few pain killers to his steady protests, she’d assumed he’d ignored her and decided to drink away the stab wound pain instead. He wobbled and swayed and appeared as drunk and disorderly as he was the day they’d met for the first time on Gorse. Hera had crossed her arms and begun her chastising monologue - only to realise that Kanan wasn’t drunk at all, but that the pain medication had loosened him up too much.
“Anything else?” Hera asked, turning back to Kanan who was basically sprawled across the table.
“Talked about you a lot in the medbay.” Zeb rose his brows, a knowing smile across his face. “Meds make him honest.”
“Right.” Hera pushed her arms underneath Kanan and pulled him up, her face squished against his torso momentarily.
She straightened up as she instinctively smoothed over her clothes, her fingers clammy. Kanan was still tipping against her, leaning into her shoulder and back, putting most of his weight onto her.
Hera cleared her throat, “Well, thanks for looking after him. Is Ezra alright?”
“Oh, yeah. Perfect. He and Sabine got free entertainment up in the medbay.” Zeb chuckled, and then with more a wry note, he added “they thought what Kanan said about you was pretty interesting.”
“Zeb.” Hera warned.
The weight of Kanan almost pushing her to the ground prevented her from snapping at Zeb. Instead she swivelled to face her injured Jedi, encouraging him to his feet. Kanan managed to rise to his feet in a more steady manner than before, he groaned painfully.
The injury hadn’t revealed itself, probably some horrible wound under his clothes. Kanan, even high on pain killers, was trying his best to act totally fine. Hera glanced up at him worriedly, ushering him to the galley.
“I’ll help you to his cabin.” Zeb offered, already stepping into place beside her.
“We should be okay.” She replied, her gaze firm.
“Experience.” Zeb chimed quietly, a throaty laugh surfacing.
Hera sent him daggers under Kanan’s arm, then began the slow walk back to the cabins.
In an affection usually reserved for themselves in the privacy of their cabins, Kanan slung his arms around her, smacking her a bit too hard but it couldn’t be avoided in his inebriated state.
Hera tried to sort herself out at his side, keeping her grip tight around him. Kanan took that as something to reciprocate, pulling her close to nuzzle the side of her face. Hera naturally leaned into the touch, seemingly forgetting Zeb and Chopper around her - then after a beat, she snapped out of it and reeled back, almost letting Kanan slip out underneath her.
”Yeah, I got a kiss too. Jedi can’t even handle a bit of pain meds.” Zeb commented.
Kanan pulled her back as he whimpered a whiney comment along the lines of “gimme, come ‘mere” and some other incoherent quips. Hera thought that was the worst of it. Then his hand was sliding down her back to cup her ass.
“Right.” Hera yelped, separating her lower body from Kanan’s reach. “Okay. To your cabin.”
“I thought you’d never ask!” He said joyfully, his mouth stretched into a delighted smile. Zeb snorted loudly.
”To rest. You really need to rest - and sleep off whatever medication they gave you.” Hera muttered.
”You, sweetheart, are the most beautiful person I’ve ever laid…” Kanan drawled teasingly. Hera flashed her eyes in warning at him, daring him to continue “…eyes on.”
“Charming.” She rolled her eyes, using one hand to pat his face affectionately.
“Iloveyousomuch.” He said clumsily, words cluttered and quick. Still, Hera could hear them clearly. They didn’t have to say it.
”I love you, too.” Hera smiled fondly at him, lifting up on her toes to kiss his cheek.
Plus one…
Hera leant over the railing, watching as her last-minute yell ushered both Kanan and Zeb back up the ramp. She silently prayed that they’d heard her - or they’d - her and Kanan - have a very big problem on their hands.
”You called?” Kanan said, hands on his hips. Hera thought he was kind-of posing, but she quickly shook those ideas from her mind.
“I forgot about the -“ Hera stopped, lips slamming together, her eyes wandering over Zeb. Kriff, she couldn’t exactly say it in front of him. Zeb was like a big brother, a very observant brother - one who had incredible hearing. Hera paused, wondering if he’d be able to lip-read if it came to it.
“I’ve got the scorch scrubbing thing on the list, don’t worry,” Kanan said half-heartedly. Hera could literally see his brain trying to recall the brand name of the product she’d just told him to get.
”Yeah and Sabine told us about the caf - no need to panic, Syndulla.” Zeb crossed his arms as he chuckled.
”That’s not -“ Hera groaned before clearing her throat. She set her gaze heavily on Kanan, hoping there was some spontaneous way they could telepathically communicate.
“… The other thing,” she said slowly, her fingers twitching on the railing handlebar.
Kanan scratched the back of his neck, taking another glance at the datapad. “The fuel? We can’t exactly get that at the market. Haven’t you got Bespin lined up for that?”
”Not the fuel.” Hera dropped her head into her palm, an exasperated sigh leaving her lips. She wondered for a moment if he was being purposefully dense.
“Alright, you got me. I wasn’t listening, I guess. What was it?” Kanan shrugged, too unbothered to be playing her.
”The thing.” Hera repeated, her words basically a guttural groan.
Something, hopefully realisation, passed over Kanan’s face. He rose a curious brow in her direction. His lips quirked, skeptical amusement clear on his face. “Ohhh - the thing.”
Finally. He was not as hopeless as she thought. Hera straightened up, fishing for her datapad lodged in one of her flight suit’s larger pockets. The market trip would only keep them busy for so long and she really ought to finish those repairs.
“Which thing?”
Hera stopped in her tracks. She took a step back towards the railing, peering down at Kanan. He stood a couple paces back than before, gazing up at with an innocent smile.
”What?” She hissed in a very irritated tone.
”The thing in the green box or the thing I have to go to that special store for -“
”Kanan, shut up -“ Hera scrunched her face up, her cheeks darkening furiously.
“This is painful, guys, even for you two.” Zeb added, looking between the two of them.
”Relax, Captain. I’ll get both things.” Kanan threw a wicked grin over his shoulder as he followed Zeb down the ramp.
Hera cursed in Ryl as she fled to the cockpit. Damn that man, he was so lucky that she loved him or he’d be dragged back to Gorse before morning.