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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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 . . .

"No, Kanan, I -"

She stops. Hera knows that Kanan's only trying to help. That she's avoiding it, her father, her home.

Quieter, "There's nothing for us to do there."

Kanan's quiet for a while after that, until eventually --

"If you're sure."

She is, certainly, and he knows it. But -- there's still something he's missing. And maybe that's okay.

She doesn't look back at him.

"When it's the right time, we'll go."

"All right," he agrees.

And then, in a transparent subject change --

"I didn't ask before, but. What does your name mean?"

Her eyes flicker back to him, and then away, as she lifts her cup to take another sip of her caf.

"My name in Twi'leki sounds more like Here."

The 'h' isn't spoken at all, and the sound at the end it closer to 'eh', with a barely voiced 'ay' hooked at the end of it.

"I chose it as a name version of 'heraal.' It means 'carry,' or sometimes something more like guide, or... accompany."

Kanan's face soften a little.

"I can see why you chose that. Was it on your initial list, or did you get to it through all the talking with others you did?"

"I didn't really have an 'initial list,'" she says, her mouth tugging into a half smile.

"I don't remember liking anything before I thought of that. I think talking to the others taught me how I'd know what sounded right."

"Were your parents among the ones you asked, or were they too close?"

Parents will continue to be a novel concept to Kanan for a long, long while.

"I could ask anyone, including them."

Hera shrugs. "Parents are usually the first to make suggestions, but I think mine didn't want to influence me too much."

"What did they tell you? I mean, if it's not too private for me to ask about."

He wants to know all about her, but at the same time he hates to intrude.

"It was nearly twenty years ago," she murmurs, looking down into her cup.

"They must've told me how they made their choices. And I remember they wouldn't give me ideas. They made a point of it, that I had to decide for myself."

"They sound like they were good at the job. The parent job, I mean. It seems . . . Nice."

Nice is a mild word for it.

"Was your mother part of the Free Ryloth movement, too?"

"They started the Free Ryloth Movement," she says. "And the Twi'lek Resistance before it. My father was always the face of it, but she always ran missions with him, developed strategies, recruited fighters. They sometimes talked about when they were younger and things weren't as – chaotic, they'd sit with each and read, stay up and talk about politics and history."

Again, a smile flutters over her face, but this time only briefly.

"In the movement, they all knew her. But outside it – they didn't talk about her. She avoided anything too public, especially with off-worlders."

"Did she not . . . like being seen like that? Or was it because of . . . "

Hera.

" . . . something else? She sounds great."

"Because of us."

She goes quiet, then, her eyes flickering down, her shoulders suddenly tensed, and tight, as she holds her breath.

It had slipped out. 'Us.'

Hera closes her eyes, swallows, and makes herself roll through it.

"One of them would have to be visible. And anyone connected to them, if others knew about them -"