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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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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!

Hera, meanwhile, is working to ensure that the Ghost's systems are all in good working order - the last thing they want is any stalls or even hiccups when transporting refugees. Time will be paramount - they'll likely need things she can't provide, medical, consistent shelter, something better than ship rations. And every moment they're not on Gatalenta will be a moment at risk. They don't want to spare even a single second.

Once she's satisfied with her systems checks, Hera heads up to the cockpit, where Chopper has their calculations ready. She's preparing the ship for takeoff as Kanan walks in, and nods her head to the chair across from hers.

"Take a seat, we're about to leave."

"I brought caf," he says, even as he takes a seat.

Sure it's redundant, but, you know --

"Let me know when you want yours."

She's got her hands full right now.

"Let's just wait until I've made the jump."

Chopper rolls back as they lift off, latching to one of the back chairs to hold himself in place. Hera wastes no time leaving the small moon behind, racing through its atmosphere, the light sky fading quickly into the black of space and the stars beyond. The only ships that might try to interfere with their departure were the kinds of pirates and traders that used this moon the same way they had - an out-of-the-way drop off. And fortunately for them, no ship crosses their path as they make the way to the hyperspace lane.

The stars lengthen into the blue blur of hyperspace, and Hera leans back in the pilot's chair.

"Eight hours. Should get just there just ahead of their window."

Edited 2018-08-03 02:36 (UTC)

"It'll make it easier to get them on-board smoothly, if we've got an extra minute or two to get set up."

He passes over the caf, taking a sip of his own.

"So . . . the Cloud-Riders, huh?"

She accepts the caf, watching for a moment.

"I'm sorry, back there I - what do you know about the Cloud-Riders?"

"All I've pretty much heard is that they're marauders who loot and pillage whatever they can. But they're rescuing refugees, so . . . "

He trails off again.

Maybe the marauding is part of the story, but it certainly can't be all of it.

Behind Kanan, Chopper whistles. Hera leans back in her chair.

"That's the story that went out about them, and they've gone along with it. Especially under the Empire, the truth would be a lot more dangerous for them."

She takes a sip of her caf, deciding what, and how much to say. "They are marauders, but it's more or less the same way we are. More than anything they're radicals. Their targets are who they see as unjustly profiting from the pain of others - governments, cartels, corporations - and they deliver most of their haul to those they think need it."

Edited 2018-08-03 17:34 (UTC)

"Huh."

Kanan sits back to digest that for a second. Okay, half a minute.

"They've just got numbers on their side. Not that our crew of three is bad! Just . . . their tactics are gonna be different than ours are."

At the very least.

"You ever work with them? Not adjacent like this, I mean."

She shakes her head. "Not directly. My father's been coordinating with them for years, they've run a lot of supplies to the Free Ryloth Movement. I knew them growing up, but I..."

Hera trails off. She looks away from him, out to the glow of hyperspace beyond them. "By the time I knew I wanted to leave Ryloth, I was looking for - something different."

"You and me, both," Kanan says quietly.

"Their methods seem to be working, but I don't -- "

Hera turns her head, looking back to him. "Not everyone has to be in this fight the same way. And it's probably better if we're not."

(Chopper, meanwhile, has decided he's had enough of these two, and rolls out of the cockpit to find something more entertaining.)

"Divide and conquer?" Kanan asks. It's not much of a joke.

"Eventually."

"As long as there's a common goal." Or an overlapping one, as it often seems to come down to.

Hera takes another sip of her caf.

"But they're good allies. Generous, dedicated, and fearless."

"Until the Empire falls, then? Whenever that might be."

If it ever happens.

"I guess it's the fearless that worries me. For them, I mean, not -- "

"Well, they've done the fearless part for us."

It's what makes them good allies. "We're just doing transport."

Assuming things go according to plan.