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The sound of crates clattering from a neat stack into a haphazard pile resounds from the cargo bay, followed shortly after by contentious voices -- and bleeps -- raised in a chorus of 'he did it'.

Kanan rests his face in his hand for a moment, eyes closed.

"Do you think they'll clean it up, or are they going to pretend we couldn't hear them and have no idea who could have made the mess?"

They can get back to mission planning in a minute, and should. But --

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"All right."

Hera takes a second, then walks across the cabin, sitting down on the cot next to him. She puts her hands on her knees, keeping her eyes on the floor at first.

"First - look Kanan, I mean it. They all had families, or - might still have them out there -"

She exhales, the words catching in her throat. But she presses on, "We have to be clear with ourselves on that."

Kanan stays quiet for a minute, head still resting in his palm. Then he lifts it and looks up at Hera, mouth twisting up at one corner.

“There’s always that possibility, I do know that. And it’s not like I’d really know familial relationships firsthand, but based on everything people say about them, and how they look . . .”

He shrugs, then, the motion easier than he feels like it should be.

“You’d know better than I would, though.”

After all, Hera did have parents, and does, still. Even if they don’t really talk.

"My parents were radical revolutionaries."

She tilts her head back. "I don't know, maybe that's part of it, that there's no 'normal' version of it. But -"

Hera tightens her grip on her knees, looking back down to him. "I don't always know what I'm doing either, okay? I'm not always sure this is what we should've done. But, Kanan - we knew some of this."

“I guess I didn’t expect quite so much squabble management, or — emotional support.”

He tries to crack a wry grin and mostly fails.

"And I didn't think about - who exactly we were in this."

With the right people, a crew that sticks together can feel like a family. It wasn't something Hera had experienced before now, before they'd recruited their own crew, but she'd seen it in others. That was something she had felt, had even expected. But she hadn't quite viewed it like this.

"But yes, we share being peacemaker, and we worry about them, and sometimes I wish the rest of them could be more like Sabine -"

She breaks off a moment, then lifts her hands, pressing them to her face. "And now I'm worried about Sabine -"

Kanan winces.

“Is it anything I can help with?”

Because they may as well hit the real, practical problems first.

“But see? To me we sound kind of like parents talking about their children, figuring out what they need to learn, anticipating who is going to have a problem next and trying to get things in place to protect them from their own worst mistakes . . . “

"No, it's not even something specific, it's just -"

But then Hera seems to realize what she's saying, and presses her hands to her face again.

"I don't know, Kanan," she says, when she looks up again. "Plenty of that is what you have to do with a crew. Know what they need to improve, anticipate problems, protect them..."

“Does it usually involve their personal lives? Because my old — okay, so they weren’t crews the way we’re talking about, exactly — but most of the people I ran with cared about what affected the job, but not anything else.”

He rubs his hands over his face, sighing.

“But maybe you’re right. It just feels different this time. Heavier, you know?”

Maybe because he cares more. But — maybe not.

"I don't know, Kanan. I know you're right, it's never just been about the job, and I wouldn't want to change that."

She shakes her head. "But we also put them in danger, we ask them to risk their lives, we let them take those risks. We need them to."

Is that incompatible with a family, with something like a parent? It never was for Hera, but she's not sure what that means, really.

Edited 2018-02-19 03:57 (UTC)

“The — “

Kanan cuts himself off, scrubbing his hand over his face again. His shoulders sag a fraction, and maybe that’s with relief.

“It feels familiar to me, I guess. I mean, the Masters were like that, with risks. We always knew what we were there for, what we’d all have to do someday.”

Hera nods, eyes turning back to the floor. "But isn't -"

She lowers her hands, folding them between her knees.

"Wasn't part of that why you weren't supposed to have attachments?"

“We still had friends, had — “

He cuts himself off, shaking his head.

“But yes, we weren’t supposed to have the kind of attachments we’d give up on a mission for, or throw away a mission for. Which . . . Is kind of like now, isn’t it. We care about each other, as a crew — and outside of that, too — but we still have jobs to get done.”

"Does it make you feel better to think of it that way?"

He is, after all, sounding calmer now.

“Less panicky, sure.”

That’s true, so far as it goes. But it’s still like playing Master to a whole bunch more people than Ezra, and he knows he still isn’t entirely ready for one apprentice, let alone something like three. Or four, if one counts Chopper, but Kanan is not about to do that. Chop’s annoying, but he’s got his stuff covered.

"That's a start."

She leans back, looking up to the ceiling, needing a break from Kanan's eyes. "I don't know. They're so young."

Hera sighs, then amends. "Two of them are young. But so was -"

She cuts that off, her eyes closing. "So were we."

"Zeb tries hard to be young at heart," Kanan says, his own eyes closing. "Sometimes I let myself get fooled."

"Maybe next time around children will be able to stay children. I guess that's something else to work toward."

"Maybe."

She opens her eyes again. "And I guess I can't completely blame Zeb. We all had our ways of getting here."

Though she will blame him when it comes to cleaning up her cargo bay.

Kanan huffs out a quiet bark of what is probably laughter.

"And his way does give the kid something to fight against that isn't me, which . . . helps."

Hera looks back at him. "Do you think he wants to fight with you?"

"I think," Kanan says slowly, "that learning to feel the Force is frustrating, let alone learning how to use it. I think that half the directions I have to give seem contradictory from the outside, and even from the inside sometimes. I think that when I was learning, there were others there with me to argue with, to debate with, to have pointless childish dramatics with. Here, Ezra's only got me. And if you're fighting your teacher, you're not . . . you're not learning the Jedi way of things."

The Dark Side always seemed to have more conflict between Master and Apprentice.

"Plus, with our jobs, it's not like he can even afford to have much space away from me to sulk."

Put that way, Chopper's cantakerousness is a blessing, too.

Edited 2018-02-21 02:22 (UTC)

"Ezra doesn't have another student to share what he's going through," she says, nodding slightly.

"And you don't have another teacher."

"I've got you," Kanan says, with a very slight smile.

"Which isn't nothing, Hera."

It's not the same as another teacher, but she knows, and he can talk to her, and --

Well.

"But I also really need to not take my irritation out on him. At least as much of it as I can help."

Hera smiles very slightly back. "I know."

It fades as she blinks away again. "But I think that's a challenge for anyone who's a -"

- parent, she can't help but think first.

"- teacher, or a leader. It feels like you can't be frustrated, or uncertain. You can't let them see you like that, because they're always looking to you."

"I never saw Master Depa uncertain."

He sounds sure of that, but . . . is it really true? Or was Caleb just blinded by hero worship and his own certainty about the certainty that comes with adulthood. With Knighthood.

"Do you feel that way, too? Speaking of leaders."

Edited 2018-02-21 03:02 (UTC)

"Do I feel like I have to be that way?"

She blinks back to him. "Why do you think I shoved you in here."