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The ship does land in one piece. As she'd suspected from the moment she saw it, the stolen ship is a rare Imperial shuttle made for stealth. She leans easily into these controls, quietly whipping through space, even after it became apparent that the patrolling TIEs had been ordered to find the ship's escaped prisoners. Hera had dodged among them, evading their scopes and radars, as she flew the shuttle far out enough to make the jump to hyperspace. In the end, it was only one unfortunate fighter that managed to catch sight of her.

The shuttle's weapons systems are nothing special, she learned. But they did the job.

The jump to Batuu was only about three hours, even with the slightly roundabout route Hera decided to take. The girls, fortunately, seem to be accustomed to space travel. Occasionally they whisper to each other, but otherwise, they tend to stay quiet unless Hera speaks to them. About an hour in, Hera recommends that they get some sleep, and the girls don't object.

It's midafternoon at Black Spire when they reach the planet. Hera is careful on her approach, avoiding likely lanes of traffic – she doesn't want to run into questions about the stolen shuttle she's flying. But then, most who visit Batuu aren't the type to ask questions. But she still chooses to land the shuttle in a clearing, surrounded by dense forest, about five kliks downriver of the outpost.

As the shuttle touches down, she turns to the girls. "Are you all right?"

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She smiles again, though this fades gradually, and her eyes fall down to the brightly lit bartop.

"What you and Ezra heard..."

She glances back up to him. "It's been - taken care of, now."

Kanan clenches his jaw, swallowing hard. None of her reactions seem like a good sign.

"They're not dead," he says, because he or Ezra would have felt that, he's pretty sure. (It's mostly not a question.)

"But -- maybe not here?"

"No," she answers.

"They're back with their people."

She'd like to say 'going home,' but she's almost sure that's not true.

Kanan looks at her for a moment, in silence.

Then, quietly --

"I can't tell if that's a good thing."

"They were stolen."

This she does know. "And it's better not to be stolen."

"Yeah," Kanan says heavily, looking at Hera.

"That part's definitely good. Will they be all right? I mean, they already got taken once, is that . . . a continuing problem?"

"Their caretaker insisted it wouldn't happen again."

Hera takes a breath, and shrugs one shoulder. She can't offer more than that.

"That's . . . probably good," Kanan says slowly, resting his hand on her shoulder.

"Are you -- Can I do anything?"

Does she need anything?

She tilts her head, her lekku brushing against his hand.

"Buy my drink?"

Kanan feels a shiver spread up his arm at her touch, and takes a quick, deep breath.

"Sure," he says, clearing his throat for a second, because his voice definitely didn't crack there. "Guess I'll get one for myself, too."

You know. To show willing.

"Uh. Once I finish my first one."

Hera grins up at him, and playfully bumps her shoulder to his.

"And is there any chance you brought some clothes more like what I usually wear?"

Because she is getting pretty tired of this woven skirt.

Kanan instinctively starts thinking through what he's got on hand right now, then shakes his head a little, because that's . . . probably not what she meant. Except --

"If coveralls are good enough for now, yeah, I've got something. Flightsuit's are going to have to wait, I didn't think I was going to need one planetside."

Alas.

"Coveralls sound great."

She takes another sip from glass. "This helped me out, but I'll be glad to be rid of it."

"Uh," Kanan says, hesitating for a moment.

"Do you want to take care of that now? I'm pretty sure this place has a 'fresher, so . . . "

Otherwise he can scout out a better place to change?

"It can wait until I finish my drink."

She picks up the garnish that came with it, and offers it to Kanan. "Want the bone?"

Kanan takes it gingerly, turning it over in his hands for a few moments.

"It feels lighter than it looks, so, uh. Definitely not a real bone."

He takes a careful bite, and it is also a lot more crumbly than he was expecting.

Whoops.

Edited 2019-05-30 02:22 (UTC)

"Sorry, I could've told you that," she says, reaching out to shake some of the crumbs from his beard. "You've never had a Bloody Rancor before?"

"I've never run into one as a drink, no," he says, leaning into her hand a little bit.

(Hey, she can see the crumbs, which always helps in getting rid of them.)

"Is it a special occasion kind of thing?"

"It's an I've had a really long, hard..."

She goes quiet a moment, and then, "... I've already lost track of how long it was, kind of thing. It doesn't happen often."

"So not a good drink, then," Kanan says, setting the bone garnish back down and resting his hand on Hera's waist, holding on.

"Can I have a taste, anyway?"

"If you want."

Others really need to learn that when Hera says this, it may not be a good sign.

Still, she lifts the glass to Kanan.

Kanan knows that, honestly he does. But this taste means something to her, and he . . . wants to have an idea.

Even if it's probably going to make his lips purse and his eyes water.

"I promise my sip will be small," he says.

"Of course, love," is all she says.

"Thanks," he says, only a little wryly.

And then, carefully, he takes the smallest of sips from her glass.

Yeah, he was totally right about the eye-watering.

"I think the bartender made it especially for me."

Or to Twi'lek tastes, in any case.

As she's already pulling a bottle from her bag, "Want some water?"