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It's late in the cycle before Hera's back on the Ghost. That hasn't been unusual lately, but today it's because she had spent many extra hours on Phoenix Home, with the pilots now under her command. It was such a fast and sudden change that she hadn't had time to think any more on it. And at first, she hadn't wanted to. The easiest and in this case maybe the best thing was to just dig in. She already knew the pilots of Phoenix Squadron as an ally, had already noted much about their skills and tendencies. Speaking to them as a squadron leader came easily. And neither the pilots nor Sato seemed surprised at this. This was what kept her attention, in those first few hours.

But now she's back on the Ghost, back with her other crew. Rather than heading up toward the cabins, however, Hera moves downward. Down through the ship, on and on, until she reaches the cargo bay. It's completely empty now, as every free meter of it had been used to hold the crates that were dropped down to the Ibaarians.

Hera moves to the edge of the landing that look down into the bay, and lowers herself to the floor, hanging her legs down over the side of the cargo space. She leans forward, lifting one hand to the railing, and resting her head against it.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

If we want freedom -

"It's what I've chosen," Hera answers. "Since I left home, since -"

She breaks off, takes a breath, and then does look back at him. "This isn't even my real voice. Sometimes I forget how long it's been since I've heard my real voice."

"You can always use it with me," he says, looking back at her. "If you want."

And, because that's not addressing the whole of it --

"Your real voice, I mean. But . . . "

But.

"I'm choosing this, too. All the way. With you."

She looks down again, but nods. After a few seconds, she reaches out, resting on hand on his knee.

"All the way," she repeats, making it just barely a question.

He moves his hand to cover hers, slipping it sideways a little so that his fingers fit into the spaces between her own.

"All the way," he confirms.

Because it's the truth.

Hera presses her fingers along his, and then raises her eyes back to him.

It doesn't take much effort, really. It's already long overdue.

"Istre amroseun."

He can't help the smile that spreads across his face, lighting it up from within. Kanan shifts to rest his forehead against hers, to feel the exhale of her breath around him, and return the same.

And, without any of the careful diction he learned in the Temple, without the rough braggadocio he learned in the streets after the Temple --

"I love you, too."

Edited 2019-02-24 04:37 (UTC)

The change in his voice startles her, briefly, but she doesn't move from him. Hera puts her free hand on the railing to keep her balance, and uses the leverage to lean toward him.

And she turns her head, so that she can press her lips to his.

Edited 2019-02-25 07:13 (UTC)

He catches his breath in relief rather than surprise, and kisses back, pulling her closer with the arm he already had wrapped around her waist.

Her skin is warm, and her breath, and --