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They arrive just outside window, and following procedure, they shut down most of the ship's systems, the lights, anything beyond what they need to survive. Even Chopper has to be shut down. They turn the ship dark, and then they wait in darkness, to see who turns up. Fortunately, they're not kept waiting for too long.

The ship that falls out of hyperspace is an old bulk freighter, its many modifications visible even only from its shadow rippling across the stars. It may be old, but it's also enormous, easily dwarfing a light freighter like the Ghost. A few minutes pass, and Hera and Kanan poised over the ship's controls but not touching them, not yet. They've seen the freighter because they were expecting it, expecting a shift out of hyperspace. They haven't been spotted yet. They can still run, if they have to.

Then, a new light ignites along the side of the bulk freighter. It goes dark, and then shines again.

Hera restarts the Ghost's main systems. Kanan turns on Chopper. After some grumbling, Chopper sends an acknowledgment to the bulk freighter, and Hera glides the Ghost in its direction. As they approach, the enormous slab doors of the ship's hangar creak and slide open, allowing the Ghost to land gently inside, alongside a shuttle, and numerous swoop bikes.

They're waiting at the edge of the hangar. Some of them – Hera knows this is maybe a quarter of their total number. Unless they'd suffered heavy losses since she'd last seen them. It had been years ago.

They wear long coats, tightly wrapped scarves, enormous helmets crafted into fierce masks. Even with their weapons held loosely at their sides, Kanan can't help a flinch toward his lightsaber. But he keeps still, as one of them steps forward. They carry a tall staff, and wear a large, elaborate helmet, with twin steel spikes and what might be bone that twist from the cap like horns. One could imagine some single, enormous creature might have been ripped apart to make their armor, the fur pelt over their shoulders, the bone set along their chest plate, their long necklace of curved teeth. Kanan glances to Hera, but she only keeps her eyes forward, and waits.

The figure lifts a gloved hand, and pulls the helmet away. Red curls tumble down, as beneath the mask the figure is revealed to be a young woman, with light brown skin, and freckles along her face.

"Enfys," Hera breathes.

She moves to meet the woman at the edge of the hangar. The woman removes one of her thick gloves to take Hera's hand.

"Thank you for coming," she says. It might be surprising, after that helmet, to see how quick she is to smile.

Hera nods, and as they release their grasp, "I hadn't heard about your mother."

Enfys' smile fades at that. "Three years. You've been busy."

She glances over Hera, to Kanan and Chopper next to him. Chopper lifts one of his little arms to wave at them.

Her dark eyes turn back to Hera. "We don't have much time."

And they don't take much time. The two women don't spend even another moment on their reunion. They head with the crew back into the ship, where along the hall, the refugees are waiting. There are twenty-seven of them, most sitting along the walls of the hallway, some wrapped in what look like cloaks that belonged to the crew. There are more in another wing of the ship, but the Ghost can only feed so many, only so many should be taken to any one system. They work quickly, leading everyone up into the ship, through the cargo bay and into the galley, the cabins for an elderly Rodian woman, and a handful of others who are feeling sick.

Hera barely has the chance for another handshake with Enfys before she and Kanan are climbing back up the Ghost's ramp. Enfys watches them leave, lifting her helmet back into place as the ramp pulls up against the wall of the cargo bay. Hera waits only until the sound of the ramp hitting the wall shudders through the ship. And then she turns quickly, heading for the cockpit.

Kanan lingers a few moments longer before following her. Rather than joining her in the cockpit, he stays in the galley, where he and Chopper begin sorting through their supplies, handing out water and protein bars.

Before long, Hera has set in their course for Gatalenta, and the Ghost has fallen back into the glow of hyperspace.

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Kanan doesn't wait for Hera to head to the galley, once the familiar feel of hyperspace sets in, he quickly finishes up distributing supplies and heads toward the cockpit.

Not least because he overheard Hera's comments to the woman . . . Enfys? And he hopes she hasn't just found out she lost a good friend.

Hera, meanwhile, is standing from the ship's controls as Kanan enters the cockpit. She turns, eyes widening briefly in surprise to see him there so soon, but she's quickly brushed it away.

"How are things going down there?"

"No one's panicking, and fighting over rations is minimal. We have enough to keep that the case until we hit Gatalenta, I think."

He smiles a little, though there are lines of tiredness around his eyes.

"Chopper seems to be making friends."

"He did always like children."

She's not quite meeting his eyes as she says it.

Kanan's smile drifts away.

"Are you . . . are things all right?"

Now she does blink up to him. But she nods, quicker than she speaks.

"When the Cloud-Riders used to come to Ryloth, it was Enfys' mother who led them."

Hera glances away again, trying to work out how to say this. "I've never known anyone else who - knows a little, of what that's like."

"I'm sorry you didn't get a chance to talk to her more. But . . . maybe we'll run into them again? Hopefully under less dire circumstances."

It's not likely, but --

"It's got to be hard, being the only person in your circumstances that you know."

It was hard enough for Caleb, and at least he had memories of his friends to draw on.

There isn't exactly a club for 'children of radical leaders.'

But Hera gives him a half-smile. "We handled it differently. She's taken up her mother's place, and I..."

She'd never planned to the do the same. And there were plenty of others equally or more capable than her to take his place, if it came to that. But then, Hera hadn't had to face that, yet.

She takes a breath, then moves to take a step around Kanan. "Enfys also used to let me race her swoop bike."

Kanan's smile gets startled onto his face, at that, but he tries to shove it down because this still seems like it's not the time. He also shifts back a step to give Hera more room to get around.

"Generous of her. How much did you love it?"

"Have you ever raced a swoop through desert canyons before?"

She grins back at him. "It's - exhilarating."

"I can imagine."

He really, really can.

"Sounds dangerous, too, though. I mean, not for you, but -- I've done something similar on a speeder, before, and it's an experience I'm not exactly eager to repeat."

"It was dangerous for me, too."

She's still smiling. "But at that age we didn't care very much."

Kanan chuckles, eyebrows raised.

"That age?"

Come on, Hera. He's met you.

Hera opens her mouth to respond, but -

Well.

"We should really be helping Chopper."

"He's got the kids handled," Kanan says, stifling a laugh. He claps his hand on her shoulder, instead.

"But you're right, leaving vulnerable adults with him is a terrible plan."

Chopper has indeed been occupying the small group of children – when Hera and Kanan reach the lower deck, they see that Chopper has illuminated his holo projector, using its light to let the children make shadow puppets along one of the walls, occasionally adding his own commentary to it. Some of the adults are watching at a distance, others still slowly consuming their rations, or resting along the available benches, cots, or floor space. Hera signals Kanan to start checking in with those who are resting in the cabins, and then moves on quietly along the hall into the galley. She silently approaches Chopper, and then drums her fingers along his dome.

"Sorry to interrupt," she says, "but I need you to do a sweep of the ship."

Chopper heaves a dramatic, mechanical sigh, but then switches off his light. The children glance back, a few eyes flickering between Hera and Chopper – and so before leaving, the droid wheels over to the Dejarik board, and starts up its own projector, cycling through a few programs before choosing a holofilm about talking bogwings to leave playing. It's an old holo, dating back from Hera's childhood, but hopefully still entertaining. With a wave of his arm, Chop trundles out of the galley, and the interested children gather on the floor around the holo.

Hera lets herself pause for just a second, just long enough to see the children's eyes dart between to the two bogwings that flit through the holo, before a voice behind her –

"Captain?"

In Basic, but a Ryloth accent. Hera turns to see a Twi'lek man, a woman just behind him. The man has light green skin, the woman orange, and both stand straight, but have noticeable circles under their eyes.

"Yes," Hera says, speaking Basic in return. "Do you need anything?"

The man begins to shake his head, but then – "Our son is missing. He –"

He blinks around the galley again, as though the son might abruptly resurface just in time. "He must have wandered off somewhere while we were resting, we're sorry, he's –"

Hera holds up a hand. "Dein rituo –" she says, and then back – "we'll find him. What's his name?"

There's no answer. The man blinks back, toward the woman, who closes her eyes, rests her forehead to his shoulder, and it clicks in Hera's mind –

"Sen candior, I –"

"He's six years old." The man takes a sharp breath. "We didn't – he was separated from us for nearly – three years, we only just got him back, he's –"

"We'll find him. Maybe just try to rest some more, I'll go look for him right now."

She wants to say something like 'don't worry,' but even in her head, she can hear how repulsive it sounds. Telling them not to worry now. Would they ever spend another second of their lives not worrying, not terrified?

Fortunately, Hera has some idea of where a child might go if they wanted to hide on her ship. And she's already heading down for the cargo bay when Chopper calls up on her comm, confirming her suspicion. She tells Chop to give the boy some space, before switching over to Kanan's line.

"How's it going?"

"All right," Kanan says, taking a step back from a small group of older Twi'leks with whom he'd been discussing ration distribution.

"What's up?"

"I think someone's wandered down to the cargo bay."

She hops down from one ladder, and continues on through the ship. "Think you can hold things down up there until we get back?"

Edited 2018-08-25 01:12 (UTC)

"How small is our wanderer?" Kanan asks, trying hard not to let his voice drop and thus draw attention to what he's saying.

"Because if it's younger than three, I might have a hard time with that."

He looks up as he finishes speaking, smiling crookedly at the Twi'leks around him. Nothing to worry about here, folks! Nothing new, anyway.

"Not that small," she answers.

"Chop's got an eye on him right now."

"There aren't really any better eyes on this ship, so that's good. I'll go relay that to his folks? Uh. If you can tell me who they are."

Or, you know, he could use his particular set of skills, but that seems . . . not entirely necessary just now.

"Twi'lek couple, they were sitting apart in the galley."

She briefly describes them, finishing just as she reaches the landing overlooking the cargo bay. "- and there he is."

"He looks all right to your eyes, too?"

Kanan's making his way toward the galley, smiling at the people around him, trying to look as confident as he can. Given that things are reasonably well under control, this is a not-insignificant amount of confidence.

There's a pause from the other end of the comm, and then -

Gently, "I'll let you know, all right?"

"Thanks," Kanan says, moving toward the two worried-looking Twi'leks that he can also feel, from this close.

He musters a different sort of smile, a softer one, and takes a deep breath.

"Hera's found your boy, down in the cargo bay. She'll bring him up in a little while, but he's safe."

Hera doesn't try to be particularly quiet, or loud, as she descends to the cargo bay floor. The boy is hunched against one of their shipping containers, rolling a can of tea back and forth across the floor between his hands. He doesn't look up to her, but she knows by now he must have noticed her approach. When she's a few meters from him, he stops rolling the can, but still doesn't look up.

"Hello," she tries, using Basic first. And then, "Nu eloj jun sendruvon?"

The boy raised his eyes when she spoke, but shuffled back, standing up against the container. He raised his lekku, in what from a human might be a shrug.

"Nu aurton de?"

He blinks, and doesn't respond this time. She waits a few seconds, and then switches back to basic, "They're watching a holo upstairs. I can take you back up, or you can stay down here."

This time he does answer, quietly. "Stay down here."

"All right." Hera looks up from him, around the bay. "I have a little work to do down here. Do you mind if I stay, too?"

This time, the boy shakes his head. Hera steps away, leaving the boy next to the container and surveying what was left of their stocks. Most of what had been down here had been sold to the junk traders, and the provisions they'd stashed was now being distributed among the refugees. What were left now were mostly empty crates. She looks through a few, still listening as she moves, for if the boy would start rolling the can again. But the bay stays quiet.

Then, among the empty crates, she opens one to find it half-filled with spare repair parts, mostly for Chopper. She picks up a few, turning them over in her hands, before setting this crate aside and opening another beneath it. This one is nearly empty, but haphazardly lined to one side are a dozen or so medpacs.

Hera closes the crate again, and steps away, toward the edge of the bay. As she does, she lifts her comm from her belt again.

"Kanan?"

"Hera?" Kanan responds immediately. Then --

"Please tell me it's good news, or at least neutral news. Chopper didn't set anything on fire, right?"

"You don't have to assume that whenever I call you."

Hera keeps moving, heading for the ladder. "Can you just meet me down here?"

"I do, though, I really do," Kanan says, but he's already hustling toward the cargo bay.

"There in thirty."

Probably less, now.

In that time, Hera climbs the ladder.

As she waits for Kanan to reach her, she leans back against the railing, trying not to be too obvious when she glances back down in to the bay. But the boy has just gone back to fiddling with the can.

"Do we have a problem?" Kanan asks as he approaches, voice quiet so as not to be overheard.

It seems like a good idea, at least, considering there's a kid involved.

Hera shakes her head, folding her arms and leaning back against the railing.

"No, I'm just thinking..."

She takes a breath, letting her eyes flicker down briefly, but then back up to him. "There are a few half-filled crates down there, remaining supplies that need to be sorted. Do you think you could go down there, maybe ask for his help in dealing with it? I don't think he should be alone, but I think I might make him - feel self-conscious."

Kanan opens his mouth to ask 'how?' and 'you?' and 'oh no, I'm terrible with kids', but --

Just looking at her face . . .

He can't say any of that. Or rather, he won't.

"I can do that, sure. Do you think he'll make a good supervisor?"

"I think he'd like a distraction," she says.

"But he wouldn't want to ask for it."

Kanan's smile is crooked, and it doesn't last long.

"No, I can understand that. Send his people down to get him when you think he's ready for it? I -- "

He swallows, swinging onto the ladder and beginning his descent.

"I'll do what I can down here."

Hera nods, just about to turn when -

"Oh wait, Kanan -"

She steps back toward him, leaning in close, so that she can speak softly.

"Don't ask him what his name is."

Edited 2018-09-04 01:44 (UTC)

Kanan turns his head to look at her, the movement quick and almost giving him a crick in his neck, but --

"Oh. Right. I -- I definitely won't do that."

There goes one opening question out the door.

"But I've got this. Promise."

He finishes making his way down the ladder, turning to look at the boy. Right. No names, no questions, no --

He's already looking into one of the crates, busily looking around the almost-empty space, like someone having a hard time finding anything useful at all. Let the boy come to him. That's probably the best way to do this.

They've got (relatively) plenty of time.

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