Hera Syndulla (
for_everyone) wrote2020-08-29 02:07 pm
Post-Protector of the Concord Dawn
They were all, unsurprisingly, much more patient with her than Hera was with herself. There was at least some excuse for that patience right now, as Kanan's – well, it couldn't exactly be called diplomacy anymore, but he had secured safe passage for them through Concord Dawn nonetheless. But the result felt like a mixed bag, they hadn't recruited these Mandalorians but extorted them, and extortion bred resentment, not trust or camaraderie. Maybe keeping Fenn Rau would give them the chance to talk to him, but Hera also knew if she were the captive, she wouldn't have any interest in what her captors had to say.
But then, Fenn Rau hadn't even given her that chance.
There is a bacta tank aboard the Liberator, but their bacta supplies are limited, so her sessions need to be rationed. LN-14 is one of the kinder medical droids Hera has come across, and he supplements her bacta treatments with frequently changed bandaging, giving special attention to those at the base of her lekku, something often overlooked by droid and organic medics alike. She's very quickly able to sit up in her cot, but other progress is slower. LN keeps her on a diet of liquid supplements until convinced her internal organs have sufficiently healed (and she can stiffly move her arms again).
Kanan undresses her, and carries her in his arms to the bacta tank, then back to her cot again. She appreciates and resents it at the same time, being tucked against his chest made her feel safe, but also vulnerable. Childish. She knows that's a foolish way to think – but the idea of needing him so much frightens her anyway. Fortunately, the injury to her spine and legs is comparatively minimal, and after the second bacta treatment she can walk alongside Kanan, if leaning heavily on him. There's only one hoverchair aboard, and the engineer using it offers it to her, but she refuses this, if only because engineering is the higher priority, while meetings with Sato can happen by her cot for now. But it's a note she makes for herself, something else they need to be better prepared for.
The bandages on her arms are the second to last to be removed. Those along her head and lekku remain, and even now her chest and back ache with too much movement. Still, her arms and hands can move with only a little remaining stiffness, and as she tests them as she downs her morning meal of protein and water, she knows it's time to do what's been hanging over her since she'd resurfaced after the attack. She taps the comm and asks Kanan to bring her a datachip from her quarters, precisely describing its location in a sleeve under her workstation. Then Hera carefully leans back, closes her eyes, and waits for him to come in.

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Chandrilans, Coruscanti, holoreporters, lobbyists -- people who thought they understood the system, knew how it worked, knew how to make change occur.
In the face of the Empire, that's not the security thought it was. It still isn't.
"How much digging did you do to find these things out?"
Did she visit their families? He wouldn't put it past her, except that she would probably also have worried about putting others in danger.
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She looks back down to the datapad screen. "They were the ones who could afford to be peaceful about it."
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"To see if that would work? Or . . . to try to keep them safe?"
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"They needed someone like me," she answers. "And if it could be done that way - maybe they were the ones who could."
She switches off the datapad again. "I was wrong. The Empire comes after some of us more than others. But there's no negotiating with it, not for anyone."
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Mainly the Emperor, but maybe a few of the Grand Moffs, too.
"But if I hadn't been . . . "
If he hadn't been running, if he'd still been Caleb --
"I would have thought it was worth a try, too."
A Jedi would have. He knows that. Even if that may explain why almost all of them died.
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"I know."
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And when he opens them again --
"What do you need right now?"
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After another moment of silence -
"I wish we could get a drink."
But she can't have one, obviously. And their schedule now was nothing like their earlier days that included the occasional stop in a cantina or night to themselves on the Ghost.
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Yeah, Kanan wishes that, too.
But since that's not really available --
"We could tell each other the hilarious stories of our past drunken exploits?"
Which isn't at all the same.
"Or -- can I sit? I don't want to jostle anything, but -- "
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"Go ahead."
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If he uses a faint touch of the Force to make sure he doesn't aggravate her injuries, what of it?
Then he shifts a little, making sure he can see her face, and rests his right hand on the opposite side of the bed. It's kind of like hugging her legs, but also kind of not.
"Is this okay?"
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She feels a little bad about his awkward position, but there isn't much she can do about it.
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She's alive. She's going to get better. Their position won't be given to the Empire by Concord Dawn.
Things could be a lot worse.
"Of course."
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"Then it works for me too."
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He may also try to interlace their fingers, as well.
"All right, then. Good."
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