(no subject)

Hera first made this climb years ago, back in her activist days. Not even that long after she'd first left Ryloth. Back then it had only been months since the start of the fires that had ripped through Veron's rainforests, destroying the ancient Gazaran cities and settlements that had spidered among the forests' high branches and dense foliage. The Empire had claimed the fires were the result of natural disasters, part of the planet-wide cataclysms that it had come to help the local population combat. But where there had once been lush rainforest and Gazaran homes and schools and temples, there was now an Imperial base, a construction yard, a supply distribution center, a prison. The winged Gazaran were forced to either migrate to the existing settler trading communities, among Rodians and humans and other species that had migrated to the planet over the years, or retreat to the mountains and more temperate forests. One option put them directly under the control of the Empire, the other indirectly, as outside their rainforests the Gazaran couldn't survive without imported food and water.

Which was where Hera and her contacts had come in, bringing supplies to those Gazaran still living outside the settler communities, giving them a way to avoid the Empire. And, later, recruiting those who were willing to inform them of the Empire's activities on Veron. It was a network she'd continued through the tumult of her early years off Ryloth. Despite what they had been through, the Gazaran were friendly, gracious, and always glad to see visitors. Being among them was the closest Hera had felt to being home on Ryloth, something she especially looked forward to after months of Stormtroopers and sleazy cantina patrons.

It might be why she's not complaining about the hour they've already trekked, along the slopes of a moderately tall mountain, nor about the hour of hiking they still have to go. The ground is mostly dry soil and pale brown clay, with little sign of plant life, though in the distance ahead of them, a few trees sway in the breeze. The sky is half clouded, half bright with sunlight, nearly cut down the middle as the clouds blow west. Hera can no longer see the Ghost behind them – they'd left Chopper back with it, all other systems powered down to avoid planetary scanners. And even still, they'd landed far out of their way, to ensure if the Empire were to come across it, this wouldn't lead them to the Gazaran.

But that has meant hiking. Hiking with loaded packs, and a crate between them that bobbles along in its little antrigrav field.

So while not complaining, Hera does slow for a few seconds, and reach to take out her canteen.