(no subject)

"All right." Hera drops down from the nose of the Ghost, having spent the last forty-five minutes cleaning and mending the nose gun canopy. "How's it going, Chopper?"

Chopper blats, a shower of sparks spraying from under the ship. Hera walks around to join him, kneeling down next to the droid to get a look at the panel he's reattaching. "We should probably look into getting this replaced –"

Before she can finish, Chopper blats again, rolling toward her with his unignited welder. Hera raises her hands, but doesn't move.

"– I was just going to say, you're doing a great job in the meantime."

This gets a contented, 'I already knew that' sort of chirp, and Hera steps back as Chopper resumes his work.

"Can you keep watch out here? I need to talk to Kanan for a while."

Chopper waves a free arm at her, and Hera steps away, out from under the ship and into a spill of moonlight. Interruptions were doubtful, in any case. They'd chosen a cavern far from any of Ovanis' cities, offering nothing of value but a place to rest. No ship could approach without being heard, as echoes crashed easily through the high, curved mountains. In fact, few pilots could even land a fighter, let alone a freighter, among the caverns here.

But Hera still glances up once to the moons. Then she turns, and heads up the ramp, into the Ghost. She walks through the crates they'd stacked in the cargo hold, up the ladder, tracing her hand along the table as she passes through the galley, and then against the wall as she walks along the cabins.

When she reaches Kanan's door, she curls her hand into a loose fist, and knocks.