notallofus | (no subject)

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The last of the refugees have been escorted off the Ghost and onto Gatalenta, along with all the belongings and supplies that Hera and Kanan could muster for them, too. There were handclasps and some weeping, and children that seemed reluctant to step out onto a new planet after all the troubles that happened to them on the old, or on the hyperlanes. Slavers have never been anything but ruthless. Fortunately the Cloud Riders can be ruthless, too, and they'll see to it that these refugees are well-protected, at least for a while.

It's something.

There's an ache in Kanan's shoulders from hauling things around, along with a faint line of tension reflected through the Force, as no one on the ship was particularly happy most of the time. He understands, but it's . . . hard to keep all of that out, not in such close quarters.

(Time in the cargo bay with the boy was a blessing on several front, honestly.)

"Do you want me to get some caf brewing while you get us into hyperspace?" Kanan asks Hera, one hand resting lightly on her shoulder.

They could all use some time to gather themselves, it seems to him. But he wants to check, just in case he's wrong.

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"I really want to say yes, but . . . "

He's not willing to be wrong, right now. It feels like it might hurt.

She shakes her head, just slightly, enough for her lekku to sway.

"It's an old custom, not that well-known off Ryloth. You shouldn't, necessarily."

Her eyes flicker down for a moment, and then back up. "It's common in Twi'lek families that children aren't given names. They choose them, when they're around four years old."

Kanan licks his lips, looking back up to Hera.

"Was it that way for you, too?"

Hera nods.

"Before that, parents usually start with 'child.' Then we get nicknames. And when you make your choice, it's like you're choosing who you're going to be in your community."

"Who did you choose to be?"

It seems daring, but -- Hera at four, dreaming of flying -- how did she see herself fitting on Ryloth? Is the Hera he knows the one she imagined herself to be?

Hera's eyes flicker down, her fingers pressing rather tight to her cup again.

"What I already felt I was, then."

Slowly, she lifts the cup to her lips. Makes herself take a brief sip.

"Some parts didn't work the same for me, or they really come from how more ancient communities worked."

"You felt that at four?" And then he stops himself. "No, you're right. I knew then, too, that I was going to be a . . . you know."

He hesitates, seeing that tight grip of her hand on her cup.

"I can stop asking, though. If you don't want to talk about it."

Edited 2018-09-08 15:39 (UTC)

"It was thought of as old enough to be part of your community."

Maybe it was young. But then, it hadn't felt that way for Hera – and survival on Ryloth had often meant growing up fast.

"You know it's coming – at least, I remember it that way. And you can get advice, or suggestions. But it has to be your choice – not just for your name, it's also when you choose your clan, your gender –"

She lifts a hand, vaguely gesturing, and the rest.

Kanan absorbs that for a moment, because that is definitely a lot more than he knew about himself at four, but --

"Did you go to anyone for advice? Or did you just . . . know?"

"Some things I remember knowing," Hera answers. "I always knew the clan name I'd take. And my gender – if a child shares that early, it's used even before they're of age.

"But I took longer with my name. I liked asking others about it."

"Did you have a short list that you kept narrowing down? I -- "

Well.

"I sort of picked my name based on the needs of the moment. But I . . . It fits now."

"Well…"

She trails off, shifting back in her chair, her eyes turning out to the blue gleam of hyperspace.

"There are some rules about what can and can't be a name. Others told me how they chose theirs, what was important to them about it, why they'd liked it. And I had nicknames – not all of them could be my chosen name, but I thought about what I liked to hear."

"I like hearing it," Kanan says without thinking.

Then --

"Uh. It sounds like the choosing process might have been kind of . . . Fun?"

"It helps you learn about others."

She says it a little like she's only now completely realizing, looking back, what this process had done for her. "You learn about other members of your family, and your community. How to talk to them, and what their lives and perspectives are like. And how you'd like to be a part of that."

"Did you know, then, even a little, that your idea of community was going to get as big as it is? We were supposed to know that, as . . . In the crèche. But I don't think most of us did, not really. Not what it would mean."

And then, of course, it didn't matter anymore.

Hera shakes her head.

"I didn't think of flying as leaving Ryloth, then. I knew I loved ships, that I wanted to move like that, but I didn't think of it as leaving my home."

Or her family. That had meant something different, then.

"I can see that. I knew I'd be traveling a lot, with . . . my teacher, but the . . . I never thought that wouldn't be home. I know it isn't the same, but . . . "

He trails off again.

"It's still home for you, isn't it. Ryloth?"

"So is the Ghost," she says.

"I don't think I could pick one."

"Good to know," Kanan says, smiling faintly, if only for a second.

"I'm pretty sure I'd stick out like a sore thumb on Ryloth, if I was a permanent resident."

"There are humans on Ryloth," she says, blinking back to him.

"There even used to be some in the Free Ryloth Movement."

"Huh. I don't know why I didn't -- "

He breaks off, shaking his head a little.

"Were any of those humans friends with your parents? Within the movement, I mean."

"Most of them joined because they admired my father. He'd been well-known even off Ryloth after the Clone Wars."

After a few seconds, "Some of them are probably still there, I just haven't talked to them since I left."

And they'd probably be less inclined to go behind Cham Syndualla, the way Goll had.

"Is that hard, always running into people that want to know about him? Your father, I mean."

And, hard on the heels of that question --

"Do you miss the others?"

Hera blinks away from him again.

And she answers, simply -

"I miss all of it."

"Should we find a reason to visit? I can think of half-a-dozen possibilities for jobs out in that sector, at least."

It seems like this might be helpful, but at the same time . . .