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It usually works out that Hera handles the credits, and Kanan did the 'heavy lifting.' Though any time he calls it that, she reminds him that it's only so heavy when the crates have antigrav. But it does mean that Kanan's usually out longer. Hera won't part with the cargo until they've been paid, which means that she's on the upper deck of the hold, sitting over the ledge, double-checking their payment for any signs of counterfeits and swiping through her datapad as she adds the new income to their budget.

And Kanan is, meanwhile, shoving crates down the Ghost's ramp, with the help of their buyers, a crew of Rodian junk traders. Chopper should also be helping, but he'd whisked himself away somewhere above deck, and it looks like Kanan and the others are handling things well enough that she's not going to bother trying to find him.

After about ten minutes, the last of the crates have been hauled off, and Kanan is shaking hands with one of the traders. He then retreats up into the ship as the Rodians exit, and hits the button to bring up the ramp. Hera looks up from her datapad, at first watching the ramp, and then, as it closes, turning her eyes to Kanan.

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"Everything looking good?" Kanan asks, swinging to sit down next to her. "Bookkeeping-wise, I mean. They seemed pretty honest, but we both know that doesn't always mean anything."

They know it real damn well by now. Each of them probably knew it well long before they ever met, in point of fact.

"They were honest today," she answers, tilting the datapad in his direction, in case he wants to see her work. "That's what matters right now."

And what means they might come this way again when they need credits.

"There's a market not that far from here, maybe we can pick up a few supplies before we leave."

He gives it a brief once-over, more because it's good to know the numbers before going shopping than because he wants to check over what she's done.

Then he nods once, though he doesn't move to stand up.

"Might as well stock up while we're flush."

"And then we can decide where we're heading off to," she says, moving the datapad back toward her. "Try to scrounge up another job before -"

The comm on her belt crackles, and Chopper's beeping sounds threw, informing her they have an incoming transmission. Hera can't help a half-smile. "I should've known."

She lifts her legs to stand, pulling the comm from her belt. "I'll be right there."

"You want me to hit the market while you take that?"

Okay, now Kanan hauls himself back up to his feet.

"I'll be quick."

She nearly nods, but then pauses, as Chopper's bleeping continues -

"No." Hera glances back at him. "You can come up for this one."

Kanan winces a little, but moves to follow Hera.

"That bad, huh?"

But Hera shakes her head.

"It's not, it's just - it's an old friend of mine. And I don't think you seeing him will do any harm."

Goll, like her father, had long since been identified by the Empire.

"Oh!"

Kanan can't help the faint widening of his eyes, because getting glimpses into Hera's past -- not just through stories but in the holographic flesh doesn't happen so often he's gotten blasé about it.

"I'll keep my lips sealed, no doubt about that," he says. It's a small attempt to offset any awkwardness he feels (and he does feel a little).

Hera raises her eyebrows, but just says, "All right."

She leads the way back up through the ship, until they reach the galley, where Chopper is waiting for them. The droid bleeps at Hera, along the lines of What do you think he wants?

"I don't think he'd be calling if he didn't have to," Hera answers, as she takes a seat by the table. She knows her father wouldn't be happy about this.

Assuming whatever this is isn't about her father.

Kanan, too, takes a seat, though he wavers between pulling the chair into full view of the holo, or lurking off to the side.

In the end he scrapes the legs against the floor as he moves so at least part of his face is visible.

It only seems fair.

"That's not ominous," he comments, but quietly, as he waits for the Hera -- and Chopper -- to activate the holocomm.

Hera presses her lips together for a moment, but then nods to Chopper to begin the transmission.

The hologram illuminates before them, washing the galley in blue light. Within it appears a Twi'lek man, with dark green skin and eyes, well-built and at least a decade or so older than Hera, though from the holo it was hard to tell how tall he was.

"Hera." He smiles, as his eyes catch on her. "It's been a while hasn't it? And -"

He speaks in accented Basic, his eyes flickering as he notices Kanan's face to the side. "Your father mentioned you had a partner now."

Hera glances at Kanan. She doesn't smile, but her shoulders relax slightly.

"Goll's been working with my father since the Clone Wars," she tells him, before looking back to the holo. "Goll, this is Kanan."

"A pleasure," Kanan says. He tries to keep his voice level, but not dry or mocking.

Here's hoping it works.

He doesn't ask what the problem is, because that's Hera's business. When there's something of value to say, though, he'll say it. Unless he's not supposed to.

Shut up he mouths at Chopper, turning his face enough away that Goll can't see it.

Chopper waves his arms innocently.

Hera ignores all of this. But by now, she's at least sure Goll wouldn't be smiling if this all was entirely bad news.

"I wasn't expecting to hear from you."

"You know what it's like, Hera," Goll says, shaking his head. "And from what we've heard it sounds like you're busy enough. I wouldn't ask if we couldn't really use another ship right now."

She still doesn't smile, though her eyes flicker down, in a sort of acknowledgment. "What's going on?"

"A few hours ago we got a message from the Cloud-Riders. They'd struck a convoy run by the Pyke Syndicate."

Kanan's attention snaps sharply back, and he can't help but speak.

"You're getting involved in gang politics?"

He looks quickly toward Hera.

"Extraction?"

Both Hera and Goll look to him.

"Gang politics -" Goll repeats, like he's not sure he heard that right. But then Hera blinks, and seems to understand.

"Oh - you don't know the Cloud-Riders, do you?"

Kanan's gaze flickers between Hera and Goll for a moment.

Then, eyes narrowing more than a little --

"I know of them, yeah."

Goll turns back to Hera, apparently taking that as a cue to continue -

"Look, they thought they'd just be grabbing supplies, but it was a slaver convoy. Now they've got a lot of refugees and no easy way to disperse them. Not to mention the Pykes and the Empire will be coming after them now, hard. They'll need help transporting them all to safe havens."

"And the more ships the better," Hera says quietly.

Oh.

Oh.

Kanan swallows, shifting back a little in his chair. It's definitely not gang politics.

"Want me to see what else we can clear in the cargo hold? Grab whatever extra blankets we've got and air them out?"

Hera nods. "And whatever food we have left -"

A market trip might've been nice, but with a ship full of passengers, they won't be able to afford any luxuries. Protein, supplements, water.

She looks back to Goll. "Do you have coordinates for us?"

He nods. "We're working out a cycle so they don't have to stay in any one place too long. I can transmit a time and place to you. The closest safe system from there would be Gatalenta."

"Understood," Hera answers.

"I'll get it tallied up and portioned out," Kanan says, nodding.

"Good luck, Goll."

"Thank you, Kanan."

He turns his eyes back to Hera. "Sareen tresinte shenal, Here."

She lets out a breath. "You're not looking bad, either. But it sounds like we better move. Send us the coordinates, I'll let you know when we're off Gatalenta."

Somehow, this makes Goll smiles again. "All right, Captain Syndulla."

It gives her pause, just for a few seconds. But then she answers, "Rilokate shender."

"And you." With that, the holo fades, the light dimming from the room.

"So . . . "

Kanan trails off, even as he finishes standing up and starts heading for the cargo bay.

"We probably don't have time for me to ask questions right now, but I'm going to. You know. Later."

Not too many, but a few, largely because The Cloud-Riders? Really? He's got to know that story.

Hera shrugs. "Meet me in the cockpit when you're done with inventory. I'll be doing some maintenance checks, but we might have some time then."

With a look to Chopper, "Go ahead and put the coordinates in the nav computer. The sooner we know how long it'll take, the better."

The droid grumbles as he leaves, enough for Hera to call, "Thank you, Chopper," as he's on his way out.

Kanan tosses off a quick salute, then goes to make speedy (but thorough) work of preparing for the refugees. It helps (and stings a little) that they've done this before.

He'll head for the cockpit once he's finished. He'll also be bringing some freshly-brewed caf. All right, he at least won't be bringing the dregs of the caf. It's something!