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This had proved to be one of the smoothest jobs they'd ever run. Hera, acting as a graduate assistant who had ended up at the administrative building when she'd meant to get to the xenobiologly labs on the other side of campus, had distracted the guards long enough for Kanan to slip in and out of the Imperial liaison's office without any trouble at all. Then again, neither the office nor the files inside were overly protected – the Empire didn't seem too concerned with anyone slipping away with their notes on Bar'leth University's faculty. It wasn't a weapon, or some exploitable resource, so maybe that wasn't surprising. But there were contacts in the rebellion who could use the information on which academics might be sympathetic, and which might be in imminent danger from the Empire.

And so they finish far ahead of their scheduled rendezvous with the Ghost. Kanan changes out of his maintenance uniform disguise, though Hera keeps her civilian clothes, and with little else to do in the meantime, they wander along the edge of the campus, its famous natural and cultural history museum looming not far in the distance. Most students and faculty have cleared out by now, but the paths and column-lined buildings are illuminated with white lanterns, keeping the campus bright as the cool evening sets in. The paths are lined with flower beds, and ahead of them is a wide pond, still enough to reflect the gymnasium just beyond it.

It's a very peaceful place, on the surface. But they had already read enough of the files they'd recovered to find that under that surface, it's anything but.

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"And five more hours," Hera says, checking her chrono. "Turns out we didn't need that 'in case we need to break in after hours' plan."

But then, things may not be going as easily for the others.

Kanan cracks a slightly crooked smile.

"Not yet, anyway. But we'll keep it in our back pocket in case we have to head this way again."

It seems unlikely, but --

It does seem unlikely. But then, if this Rebellion does continue, it would touch places like this eventually. Really, it already had.

But Hera only says, "We haven't been to the Core in ages."

"We do clean up well," Kanan agrees, "so it really is a shame."

"I never really miss it."

After a pause, she adds, "Except Corellia."

Kanan stifles a laugh.

"The ultra-competitive pilots?"

He can see that.

"Some even had deep pockets."

Hera smiles, the same kind of innocent smile she'd flashed the guards earlier. "It was a surer bet than a game of sabacc."

"For you, anyway."

Kanan's grinning, now, both at the con and the fact that he knows she's serious when she calls that kind of competition 'sure'. He would be, too, if he were telling the story to someone else. Hera really is the best pilot he's ever seen.

"I might want to stick with sabacc."

Hera shrugs.

"Anyway. This place feels like something out of another life."

His smile fades, even though he tries to keep it on his face.

"It does, at that."

Caleb's life, if it's anyone's. Though even the Jedi Temple on Coruscant wasn't filled with quite so much sumptuous clothing as this place.

"My parents met at a college in Nabat."

She sounds a little wistful, at that. It's not a part of her parent's lives she would ever really know.

"Before my father was expelled."

"How long did it take him to get thrown out?"

Kanan can't imagine it was very long, given what he knows of Cham, and how he is when he believes in something. It's clear in Hera, for one.

Edited 2018-03-17 14:04 (UTC)

Hera lets out a low laugh.

"Six months. His ideas weren't all that popular back then."

"I would've bet on four," Kanan offers.

"Did you ever think you'd go to a school like that? Or, I mean. Did you ever want to?"

“No.”

She says it a little quickly, and after a few seconds adds, “I wanted to go to a flight academy when I was younger, but it would’ve been impossible. And then I found a way to work without it.”

A little quieter, “And that college where my parents met was destroyed in the Clone Wars, anyway.”

"A lot of things were," Kanan says.

And --

"I'm sorry."

Hera glances up at him. And then, she looks around, across the darkened campus. There are two students sitting on a bench nearby, a few figure waiting near a hoverbus stop in the distance, a few lights shining through windows.

And then she realizes this is all unnecessary. There’s no one here who knows or cares who they are.

So she reaches over to Kanan, and takes his hand.

Kanan's eyes widen for a moment, even as his fingers fold reflexively through hers, warm and not even slightly damp.

His smile is small, and very sweet, and he squeezes her hand lightly, because he can.

Hera smiles back, even if she has to put some effort into not breathing too deeply, or glancing away.

“Maybe we can find something to eat,” she says, when that silence has lasted long enough.

“But it’ll probably be expensive here.”

"Probably," Kanan agrees. His own cheeks are maybe a little flushed, but it's dark enough that's not readily apparent.

"But maybe we can rustle up some Corellians who are ready to bet on some piloting."

"I'm not planning on any races tonight."

She shakes her head, and starts to turn her steps, toward the campus edge and the city beyond.

"This direction's probably our best bet."

"You say that," Kanan says, "and yet . . . "

He trails off, mouth quirked in a smile even as he follows her toward the edge of the university campus.

"But no, you're right, it's not the day for casual entertainment."

They wander out into the city that surrounds the stretch of campus. It's busier, and louder, as speeders race buy and other pedestrians make their way among shops and homes and restaurants. The austere lighting of the campus gives way to bright, blinking signs in windows and glinting traffic lights. Within a few blocks, there's a small bar that looks slightly less crowded than the others, though before Hera and Kanan reach it, a speeder slams to a halt in front of it, a group of already rowdy-looking humans and climbing out of it. They're old enough that they might be graduate students, or younger faculty. Hera stops short as they come together to head into the bar.

But her eyes flicker from the group almost at once, as she catches sight of the speeder. Once they're inside, she takes a step closer. It's large enough to comfortably hold a driver and four passengers, its elaborate bodywork of cool blues and violets glittering under the street lamps and flashing signs, and Hera moves along it until she finds the the logo -

"SoroSuub Corp," she says, glancing back to Kanan. "Probably one of the most expensive you can get."

"Someone's family's well-off, looks like," Kanan acknowledges, smile gone crooked.

"You think they have any idea how to get the most out of this thing?"

He's got a weather eye on the door, because could be that group of humans has something to say about anybody taking a closer look at their ride.

"Not from the way they pulled up."

But she takes a step back from it, moving toward the bar door instead. "Still want to go in?"