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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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"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.

"I'll try to be ready for more than that," Kanan says. "Just in case it gets dangerous."

Their luck has been pretty good lately, which is why it's bound to run out.

"Good idea."

Hera goes quiet, then. She turns to lean back against her chair, and raises her cup, taking a few deep sips from her caf.

"Have you been to Gatalenta before?"

"We bivouacked there between jobs, once. It was a pretty safe place, as far as it went. I slept well there."

At the time, that meant a lot.

Edited 2018-08-04 03:51 (UTC)

Hera nods. "I've run a lot of refugees there. It's one of the oldest safe systems in the Galaxy."

Kanan's quiet for a moment. Then --

"Do you think that'll stay true?"

Hera also takes her time in answering. A couple of her fingers begin to tap the side of her cup.

"It's the kind of world the Empire doesn't try to antagonize, for now," she says. "Wealthy, respected, well-represented on Coruscant. And their laws against slavery are among their most important beliefs. They'll never change that without being forced to, and I don't think it's worth it to the Empire to try."

Again, though she doesn't repeat it - for now.

Edited 2018-08-04 05:57 (UTC)

His smile is small and very crooked.

"I wish that were more comforting," he says.

But it is what it is, under the Empire. Maybe someday . . .

Hera takes a breath, and says it a different way. "The day there's slavery on Gatalenta isn't one I want to think about."

But she does. All the time.

He reaches out to rest his hand on her shoulder for a second, holding on.

"I bet the Cloud-Riders don't want it to happen, either."

They're not alone.

She nods her head toward Kanan's hand, acknowledging his words, and the comfort of his hand on her shoulder.

"But it's going to be a while before -"

Hera doesn't feel sure what to say. Things get better? The refugee lines to Gatalenta, and to other safe systems, had never really stopped. They'd just grown and eased, taken different forms.

Instead, "It's not easy for the refugees, resettling on a new world."

"Not even on the best of worlds," Kanan agrees. He tries not to sound tired, because that's not going to be helpful at all.

"I know I found it easier not to even try."

"And Gatalenta is... different."

She winces internally at that, not really liking how it sounds, and after a few second adds, "I've just - heard it's hard, for some to adjust to."

"Too much calm?"

And then he hears himself, too, and shakes his head.

"No, I just mean. When you're used to everything being loud and hard and busy . . . a place that's quieter, or kinder -- it can be too much."