notallofus | (no subject)

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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"We can," she agrees. "We have. I just -"

Hera glances away again, deciding whether to say it.

"I think about that. Being taken before you have a name."

He's quiet for a second, watching her. Then --

"And having to choose a name that's always going to remind you that . . . that it happened."

"Or maybe that he came back."

It's the more hopeful view. But he had survived, after all. So there was still hope.

"That would be a lot better. And . . . he can do that now, right? Since he hasn't . . ."

Hasn't chosen yet, that is.

"If that's what he wants."

It's another few seconds but Hera looks back at Kanan, and even allows herself a flickering smile.

"He'll have a community again."

Kanan smiles back, just a little.

"A community of three and a half counts, too. I think so, anyway."

Her smile widens slightly.

"Who's the half here?"

"The Ghost," Kanan says, smile gone crooked.

"At least until she decides to talk to me."

"Good. Because Chopper never would've let you hear the end of it if you meant him."

"I would never!" Kanan protests.

And then --

"I like my shins un-bruised!"

Edited 2018-09-12 01:29 (UTC)

"And your hair un-singed."

Finally, Hera lifts her cup again. The caf has gone a little cool, but she doesn't mind too much.

"I'm willing to sacrifice my eyebrows, though."

He lifts up his own caf at that, taking a small sip.

It'll do.

"I don't think I look rakish enough."

Edited 2018-09-12 01:40 (UTC)

"I'm sure Chopper'ed be happy to help."

That smile's edging closer to a grin.

" . . . maybe next month."

He's going to wake up with half an eyebrow, isn't he?

Sleep with one eye open, Kanan. But Hera just lifts her mug again.

"You're right, though," she says. "We've got a community here, too."

A small one, but that didn't lessen it.

Doing that is harder than it looks. Kanan is resigned.

He's also smiling.

"It's a good one," he agrees. "I like it."

"Me too."

Hera settles back in her chair, taking another sip of her caf and glancing back down to the console. Another hour, and maybe they can all get some rest.