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Hera never brings him food herself. She does usually help prepare it – she has a better sense of the Terran diet than most, and when it comes down to it, she doesn't fully trust the others not to poison a meal they know is going to their half-Terran 'guest.' But she always finds someone she does trust to take it into him. And then, at first, she'd waited, leaving him to eat alone before she entered his room.

She kept to the first. But the second, she gradually eased. Hera remembered how total her isolation had been, and what had eased in her when she'd grown used to sharing meals. That was something she could do, even if she wouldn't serve him.

So the time she waits becomes shorter and shorter. Until today, when it's only a few minutes after seeing Muroc exit the makeshift cabin that she approaches. She nods to the guard, and then though she doesn't have to, she knocks on the door. She doesn't wait for an answer before entering the room.

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"I make most of my mistakes 'in the moment'."

His voice is tight, and it matches the frown on his face, but -- he does take a deep breath and stop trying to rush it.

At least for a little while.

"Then for the moment, try not to worry about mistakes."

She keeps moving as she speaks, and as they reach the end of the sequence, she adds,

"There's no one waiting to attack you, Kanan. Not right now."

His shoulders hunch in, but he forces them back, keeping up with the movements.

He doesn't look at her.

"Not in this room, maybe."

She lets her voice soften, just a little -

"It's a start."

Kanan looks up at her at that, eyes a little wide.

"Oh. Uh. You're right. It is."

Hera keeps moving through the stances, and then -

"A few more times, and then we'll try a different set."

After a point, she'd guess he's bound to get restless.

"S-sure," Kanan stutters, movements coming a little more smoothly.

"If you have the time."

"We have some time."

She leads them through two more sequences, then comes to a slow stop. "My combat instructor always began and concluded our sessions with these."

Hera stays still a moment, her back still turned to Kanan. She takes a few deep breaths, working herself toward speaking again.

"It - helped me. At a time when I found calm and focus - difficult.

He's quiet for a second, eyes gone wide again, but he knows both those things are the wrong reaction.

And he can't explain why that matters, but it does.

"I -- I appreciate the help. It's . . . thanks."

A pause, and he weighs the merits of speaking. But --

"I hope it's better for you now."

"It is."

It's all she says. With that she starts a new sequence of steps, again slow at first, then gradually quicker, each form leading smoothly into the next. As they go on, she stops speaking entirely, letting the silence linger. The only sound is the soft shuffle of their feet over the mat, and the low hum of the ship.

Hera takes them through the new sequence many times over, and then, slowing but not stopping, transition to the first set again.

She listens for, but doesn't turn to watch whether Kanan keeps up with her.

Good, he doesn't say, and for more than one reason.

But he does manage to keep up, at least once she starts in on the first set again. Everything other than that --

It's a wash. But he tries.

Hera keeps him going for more than half an hour, before she slowly comes to a stop. Again, she folds her hands behind her back, and turns to face him.

"I think that's enough for now."

Any relaxation that's settled into him is gone again, and he looks toward the door.

"Back to my room, huh?"

Hera doesn't sigh. But really, what is she supposed to say to that?

"Maybe not yet."

She nods to the cups at the edge of the map. "Go get those and choose a place to sit."

Meanwhile, she heads back toward the metal cabinet.

"Okay."

His hands are a little shaky as he picks up the cups, and he picks a corner of the room that lets him get a good view of the door, but sit he does.

And waits for whatever Hera is going to do next.

Hera opens the cabinet, and within it, a slender drawer, from which she pulls out a folded piece of cardboard, and a tightly filled pouch. She balances these on one arm, and then takes the water pitcher above the drawers in her free hand, closing the cabinet with her elbow.

She walks over to where he's sitting, and settles down on the floor across from him. The pitcher is set down on the floor next to the cups. Then she sets down the piece of cardboard between them, and unfolds it, revealing a makeshift chessboard scrawled across it. Next she unzips the pouch, out of which spills a collection of rough-hewn and mismatched pieces.

It's a far cry from the beautiful set Thrawn had used to teach her, but even now that was still locked in his office, and determined young Hera had made her own alternatives.

Kanan looks from the pieces, to the board, back to Hera.

It seems like the answer should be obvious, but he asks anyway.

"Do you like to play?"

"I've been playing for years."

She starts separating out the pieces between black and white. "Commander Thrawn thinks it's important to understand one's enemy."

Kanan lifts both eyebrows, he can't quite help himself.

"Do you play against all your enemies?"

She blinks up at him.

"The game is Terran."

A pause, and then. "Playing it helps me understand Terrans."

"You think it'd help me understand Terrans?"

"I don't know."

She starts lining the black pieces up on her side of the board. "But it's something to do."

"It is," he slumps a little, reaching out to put the white pieces in their place -- mimicking her assembly where he's uncertain.

"And I think I'd like to learn."

"You haven't played it?"

She can't quite hide her surprise in her voice.

"It's a Terran game," he emphasizes. "And I'm not, really."

He's not looking at her while he says that.