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The advantage of Hera's typical technique is that it's controlled, and understated. She draws as little attention as possible to the act while she's carrying it out, giving her time to plant evidence and leave the area before most have even realized what has happened. But, once in a while, a particular job calls for a little more showmanship than this. Her work is never supposed to leave any uncertainty as to what it means, and who is behind it. But sometimes, there can also be value in sheer brazenness.

Which means that Hera's most recent target, Captain Orfanidis, was stabbed in the chest in his own quarters aboard the ISS Laran. At least the follow-up requires slightly less work – Hera doesn't even bother hiding her weapon. She hopes they find it. She hopes they find her DNA on it. She hopes they know exactly who did this, and that they walk in fear of when she'll do it again.

But if she plans to do it again, it also means she has to get away. Which is why she waits just long enough to ensure Orfanidis is dead before she drops her blade, and checks her time, before she steps back out into the hall. The moment she does is just as the ship's assigned cleaning "staff" is passing through. They're all wearing shock collars, so that they don't need a monitor, and are dutifully keeping their eyes down. Already disguised accordingly, it's easy enough for Hera to step in among them, and walk with them as they pass through the staff quarters.

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Now Kanan does look back at her, bitterness still curling one half of his mouth.

"Maybe if I wanted to be tortured to death."

That's pretty much the only outcome of that idea.

Like a reminder,

"You don't."

"No," Kanan agrees, because there's no point in not doing it now. He's shown his hand.

"So what's the deal?"

Thrawn smiles very faintly, studying Kanan without looking toward Hera.

"Well done," he says, once more in Sy Bisti. "Shall we ask him to help ferret out informants to the opposition, do you think? A trial position in data analysis? I imagine he would be suspicious if we didn't immediately wish to make use of his psionic talents."

Edited 2018-07-18 23:33 (UTC)

Hera also watches Kanan, not looking back to Thrawn as she answers, "I'm not so sure."

In fact, she imagines rushing him to work it, seeming eager to use him like a shining new tool, would be more likely to close him off again.

Instead, she only asks, "Will you help us?"

He does his best not to look toward Thrawn, and it's easier than he thought it might be.

Which troubles him, a little, but --

"What kind of help do you need?"

"What you know about the Empire's operations could be useful."

She'd sidestepped it before, but now, she figures there's no use pretending otherwise.

"And if you could use your Betazoid senses, there are many ways that could help us."

He flinches again, but this time doesn't look away.

"Isn't that going to upset a lot of people? If your plan's to get me murdered as a suspected spy on this ship . . . "

"Kanan."

It's the first time she says that name. She leans forward in her seat, and speaks slowly, and clearly.

"If I want you dead, I will kill you myself."

He doesn't smile, but the left side of his mouth tenses, almost as if he wants to.

"That's . . . actually comforting. I'm going to hold you to that."

It won't help him, but it feels like it might be a nice change, to know where the blade will come from.

She tilts her head, and asks, "You should know whether I'm lying, right?"

And right now, there's not even the barest flicker to suggest she's being anything but truthful.

"Circumstances change."

He means it to be flippant, but . . . it's not.

She shakes her head.

"Not for this."

He's silent for a moment.

Then --

"Let's say I believe you."

(Because he does. Honesty is very convincing, to a Betazoid.)

"What do you want me to do first?"

Hera leans back in her chair, then turns, looking to Thrawn.

"I think he should eat first."

Thrawn nods once, sharply, and moves to sit behind his desk.

"You seem to have this well in hand. Have him back here tomorrow morning, after the late shift breakfast. Locating quarters is up to you, of course, as is wardrobe. You'll know what best fits in with the crew."

He steeples his fingers once he finishes speaking in Sy Bisti, gaze fixed on Kanan for another long moment.

"We'll talk about that tomorrow. For now, let's see that you have your basic necessities taken care of. Hera, if you would?"

Hera nods, rising from her chair before looking back to Kanan.

This time, at least, she's not so openly bracing for an attack as she waits for Kanan to stand.

He hesitates, waiting until Hera is on her feet before slowly getting to his own.

"I'm going to have to learn another language, aren't I?"

Because speaking Terran seems . . . unwise.

"Betazoid is mostly telepathic, and I don't have much else."

Hera waits until he has risen, before she turns slightly - enough to lead a path toward the door, though not to turn her back to him. She again glances toward Thrawn, but then back at Kanan as she answers.

"Most of us have had to learn English. Many only speak it and their native language. Unless we have a translator available, we often have to use it."

There are times when practicality has to outweigh distaste.

"I see," he says, a little more quietly.

He doesn't yet, not really. But . . . maybe someday.

Kanan seems reluctant to leave Thrawn at his back, though it makes his path toward the door a little more obviously elaborate than Hera's.

Hera notices, and she knows Thrawn will notice, as well.

But she just says, "Stay close to me. We don't want anyone getting confused by that uniform."

And, with another glance back to Thrawn, "Do you want me to come back, after he's secure?"

Edited 2018-07-19 01:29 (UTC)

Thrawn merely lowers his eyelids briefly, a gesture as good as a nod.

"Secure and settled, I think. No need to give him time to ponder his fate."

"Yes, sir."

She reaches the door, opening it and glancing out into the hallway first, before motioning Kanan to follow her.

Kanan has to visibly stop himself from saluting on his way out the door.

A lot of habits will die hard, if they vanish at all.

It is very late in the evening when Thrawn is finally gifted with Hera's return.

He has tea on the table, again, and has placed two comfortable chairs on either side of a small table, one with just enough space on it to fit the teacups and a small plate of finger foods. Bitter ones.

"Sit, please. Where did you finally place him, if I may inquire?"