Her eyes fall again. She watches the light along the metal floor, her boots against it.

She wouldn't have - well, Hera doesn't know what she would have thought of the Jedi. Of how they would have taught war, or seen it. They all had to make their own power in it, and strength in it, from anything they could. And she'd never experienced like what the Jedi had.

In a different time.

"When things were really bad, if the bombings were close, if we hadn't eaten in days - my father used to say these words. In Basic it'd be something like, they can only kill us, they can't break our will to be free."

Hera takes a breath. "We'd repeat like it mantra. Somehow, it worked." She glances back up. "It used to help me sleep."