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There's only a small port at Mos Elrey, and Hera had already decided to avoid it. She doesn't want to deal with Imperials looking too closely at their identichips, or local 'authorities' demanding bribes to ensure the ship's protection. The other option is to touchdown outside the city – that's not difficult on a planet like Tatooine, and Hera quickly finds a tall dune in the Western Sea along which to tuck away the Ghost. It's eight klicks from Mos Elrey, the collection of sand-and-mudbrick towers black like shadows along the horizon. Which is the downside – they have no speeder, and so they'll have to walk, leaving them vulnerable to attack by Tusken Raiders, along with whom or whatever else might be lurking among the dunes around them.

Of course, that's only one danger. The sky is clear, now a deep gray-purple that's brightening as the twin suns rise. If they leave too early, they run a greater risk of attracting unwanted company, as the Tusken Raiders in particular were known to ride the dunes at night. Leave too late, and they'll be caught in the dangerous midday heat. They'll have to hope there won't be a sandstorm in the time it takes them to reach city, and that they'll avoid any hidden pits or slips of quicksand.

But to Hera, none of those concerns rival the fact that this blasted planet is ruled by the Hutts.

Chopper, unsurprisingly, is content to stay with the ship. Hera has checked over her blaster, and sheathed her vibroblade, and at the moment is rummaging through one of the drawers under her bunk, the doors to her cabin left open.

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Kanan, meanwhile, keeps twitchily touching the disassembled lightsaber hanging at his belt, while fidgeting with his canteen.

"Should I get us more water? Maybe I should strap on some more water."

"Maybe," she answers. Hera had noticed he seemed to need more water than she did, especially whenever they were on a desert world.

A second later, she finally pulls out what she'd been looking for - a long hooded cloak, one she hadn't worn in a while.

"But you don't want to get too weighed down."

"No, but -- "

Kanan cuts himself off, thinking about what he could actually do with the Force if it came down to it.

"No, you're right. I'll be fine with what we've got. Though, uh."

He fidgets with his own cloak, which is a lot more gray than any brown color. It helps.

"Never mind."

She's pulling on her own cloak as he speaks, and doesn't notice the movement.

"What is it?"

Edited 2018-11-15 01:35 (UTC)

Kanan opens his mouth, then closes it again.

But after a moment --

"Mostly I'm reminding myself that we can outrun Hutts."

(Okay, that's a little true.)

Hera glances up at him, but then looks down to her wrists, running a finger over the bands of cloth she's tied around the ends of her sleeves in an effort to keep out sand.

"We're not planning anything that should anger the Hutts."

They may be happy to deal with the Empire, but were hardly loyal allies.

Edited 2018-11-15 02:02 (UTC)

"Yeah, but if the opportunity arises . . . "

He trails off, a slight shiver running down his spine.

"And, you know, we have an excellent escape route."

Hera can't pretend like that's not true. If they have the opportunity.

She pulls up her hood over her lekku, and gives him a small smile. "Let's make that jump when we get to it."

'When', she says.

He can work with that.

Kanan pulls up his own hood, tucking a fold of it over his face to keep the sun off.

"I'll be ready. Shall we?"

"Right." She reaches over to lift her bag, containing among things her own canteen, and maneuvers under her cloak to loop it over her shoulder. Then she steps out of her cabin, the doors sliding closed behind her.

"Chop?" she calls out, as they walk toward the galley. There's no answer, but Hera keeps moving. "Maybe he's already in the cargo bay."

"Maybe he's fallen out of the cargo bay," Kanan grumbles, more for effect than because he really means it.

"You think we should be worried?"

"If he's not down there, I'll call him on the comm before we leave. He really has to be on the lookout while we're gone."

Preferably not the way she knows he often handles lookout duty, which is to screw around and occasionally glance outside if he remembers.

"You think he could use a new motivator?"

Well, 'new'.

Kanan scrubs his hand over his face as he asks that question.

"Not that it isn't too late for this mission, but next time . . . "

"A new motivator would just make him complain faster."

Really, she's tried.

"Would it also make him react faster to us being in trouble?"

Sometimes it's the little things.

"He'd be able to react faster."

She's yet to find a way to make Chopper do anything. Well, nothing she's willing to try, in any case.

But the droid is meandering around the cargo bay when they reach it. Hera leaves Kanan to open the ramp out onto the warm desert morning, while she rounds on Chopper.

"I mean it, Chop. You don't want some pirates or Tuskens selling you for scrap, do you?"

Chopper blats, waving his arms at her. Hera waves her hand toward the upper decks. "Go on, get up there."

"I bet he'd do it if you were in trouble," Kanan says, in an attempt to sound supportive and . . .

Yeah, okay, Chopper knows him too well.

"You know they'd do it, too, Chop!" He calls out, because that's much more in the usual vein.

"Jawas would wrestle you into submission in a minute."

Chopper seems ready to regale Kanan with how he could take a hundred Jawas at once, but Hera's learned that sometimes the best tactic is to ignore him. She draws her hood a little farther forward, and turns to join Kanan at the ramp.

"We'll be back before sundown," she calls back to Chopper as she moves. "And the ship better be here."

He still beeping grumpily, but Chopper does start to head toward the upper decks from where he'll have to keep watch. Hera pauses next to Kanan, looking out across the open desert beyond, the distant towers of Mos Elrey still black on the horizon, though the purple color of the sky is fading to a pale blue.

"Ready?" she asks.

"As I'll ever be," Kanan says, smiling crookedly for a second before composing his face into harsher lines.

Tatooine always seems to require that, and he knows it's not just the harshness of the light from the twin suns.

"Luck's got to be on our side at least some of the time."

(No, it doesn't.)

"Let's hope so."

There's not much more they can do.

But preparation, and a little luck, turns out to be on their side. At least for the moment. In the heat, and with the careful paths they have to take to avoid slipping along the dunes or into pit traps, the walk takes just over two hours. Hera's careful to measure out the sips of water she takes from her canteen, but the heat alone doesn't bother her much, even as the suns climb higher, and the sky turns from pale to deep blue.

It's the way the air feels dusty, even when there's no wind. Hera has to stop herself from drinking when she's not really thirsty, but just wants to wash down what feels like a thin layer of sand prickling her throat. And there's the sunlight itself, bright in their eyes and reflecting off the desert landscape, until it feels as though there's nowhere to look, even when her hood shades her eyes.

But they slip into any pits, aren't waylaid by Tuskens or bandits. Hera doesn't speak much, as she doesn't want to open her mouth for too long, and so for most of the hours they walk, there's just the sound of their footsteps shifting through the sand.

That is until there's the whine of speeders, call of banthas and dewbacks, and the woosh of ships above them, as they creep closer to the city. The shadows of Mos Elrey's gates slink along the sand toward them, the short mudbrick towers no longer black but baked brown, with flags and empty clotheslines cluttering among their sculpted windows.

Edited 2018-11-18 01:29 (UTC)

Kanan can feel the skin across his cheeks pulling a bit, and there's sand crusted in his throat and in his eyelashes. Heat isn't his favorite, but it's better than biting cold, so he's not complaining.

But he does kind of wish he had brought a second canteen. Maybe there'll be time to refill it in Mos Elrey, but if not, at least he's got half of it left.

And, given that he suddenly has an urge to upend the entirety of his canteen over his face, he is going to stop thinking about water now and focus on the job at hand.

"I'm guessing we'd do better not sneaking in?" he ventures, after clearing his throat twice.

Sand. Honestly.

"Doesn't look like we have to."

There is one very bored-looking Stormtooper leaning against the wall near an open gate. People of various species are passing freely in and out, the guard not even glancing up to check for identichips. No reason to create more suspicion than they need to.

Hera keeps her pace steady as they approach, looking ahead, and then glancing to Kanan as they approach the gate.

"Want to get a drink first?'

It's not part of the plan, but is a good excuse to turn her head briefly from the trooper.

Edited 2018-11-18 02:01 (UTC)

"Water would be great," Kanan says, only a little wryly.

"But I guess something stronger would do almost as well."

He's not looking toward the Stormtrooper, but his attention is pretty fixed that way, regardless.

The trooper doesn't look at them. From the direction of their helmet, their attention seems to be entirely on the clear sky.

Once they're through the gate, and have stepped into the slightly cooler shadow of the closes tower, Hera stops where she is. Others continue to pass by them, talking, dragging along carts of droid parts or what look like roasted amphibians, no one giving them a second glance.

Hera looks down the main road that looks like it leads to an open space surrounding by slightly taller towers, and the dusty streets that branch out from it. There are no signs, but Hera spots what she's looking for, etched along a nearby wall, a bit of old graffiti of an angry tooka face and some rude Huttese words. She takes Kanan's wrist in her hand as she starts to move again.

"Market's this way."

"So it is," Kanan mutters, resettling his hood around his face -- just to keep the sun off -- and shaking some of the sand off his boots.

"Lead the way."

He'll do his best to keep pace with her, especially as the crowd density picks up. The colors of the awnings get brighter, staking out portions of precious shade for the more well-to-do vendors, while also creating something eye-catching but not painfully bright to draw in new business. Someone stops dead in front of them and begins haranguing a Chadra-fan woman selling power converters and a few other droid parts, while behind her a street food vendor starts calling out more loudly in bad Huttese, trying to advertise his wares over the sound of the arguing.

Kanan scans the area briefly, trying to see what Hera sees, and maybe also to keep an eye out for signs of trouble. It's definitely not difficult to find in a place like this.