Hera Syndulla (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
for_everyone) wrote2018-02-08 08:37 pm
for_everyone) wrote2018-02-08 08:37 pm
Entry tags:
(no subject)
Things didn't go according to plan.
They had made it to Grakkus' palace without any trouble. It was an enormous building, square and clay-colored, with a cavernous, decked out entrance hall that was already filling up when they entered. The party had been easy to join, with plenty of edges and corners to slip into, to watch the other guests, and to follow the Hutt's triumphant entrance as he introduced his prize. The crowd wasn't given much of a look at it, surprising no one, only assurances that it was highly valued by the Empire. It looked like nothing more than a large black box, and they had watched as it was carted away, down one of the side halls. Chopper had slipped away to see if he could plug into the palace's computer system, while Hera and Kanan slowly set off toward their quarry. And then –
It's about an hour and a half later, and Hera can still hear the music from the party, the bass beating through the dusty walls, even a whisper of the talk of the revelers. Which is all the more impressive given that she must be at least two floors beneath it, in a small, dark cell. There's a flickering lamp in the ceiling, and a small, barred window in the door, filtering in the dim light from the hallway. Hera is sitting on the floor, her hands shackled to the wall on either side of her. She can feel the low buzz of the shock collar against her throat, but she's not paying much attention to it.
Instead, she has spent most of the last ten minutes trying to contort herself to get close enough to kick Kanan in the shins. He hasn't moved since he was stunned with some kind of electrorod Hera had never seen before. It must've really packed a punch, because he's been out for nearly thirty minutes, as Hera finally manages to shove her feet close enough to him to stamp against his leg.
"Kanan!" she hisses. "Kanan, wake up!"
They had made it to Grakkus' palace without any trouble. It was an enormous building, square and clay-colored, with a cavernous, decked out entrance hall that was already filling up when they entered. The party had been easy to join, with plenty of edges and corners to slip into, to watch the other guests, and to follow the Hutt's triumphant entrance as he introduced his prize. The crowd wasn't given much of a look at it, surprising no one, only assurances that it was highly valued by the Empire. It looked like nothing more than a large black box, and they had watched as it was carted away, down one of the side halls. Chopper had slipped away to see if he could plug into the palace's computer system, while Hera and Kanan slowly set off toward their quarry. And then –
It's about an hour and a half later, and Hera can still hear the music from the party, the bass beating through the dusty walls, even a whisper of the talk of the revelers. Which is all the more impressive given that she must be at least two floors beneath it, in a small, dark cell. There's a flickering lamp in the ceiling, and a small, barred window in the door, filtering in the dim light from the hallway. Hera is sitting on the floor, her hands shackled to the wall on either side of her. She can feel the low buzz of the shock collar against her throat, but she's not paying much attention to it.
Instead, she has spent most of the last ten minutes trying to contort herself to get close enough to kick Kanan in the shins. He hasn't moved since he was stunned with some kind of electrorod Hera had never seen before. It must've really packed a punch, because he's been out for nearly thirty minutes, as Hera finally manages to shove her feet close enough to him to stamp against his leg.
"Kanan!" she hisses. "Kanan, wake up!"
no subject
And then there's the explosion. The force of the blast, and the heat of the flames bursting forth behind them.
Hera never looks away from the Ghost above them, from the ramp they're climbing up toward.
no subject
Out of practice, out of practice
But that doesn't matter, can't matter. He reaches deep, redoubling his efforts, and soon the boarding ramp of the Ghost is centimeters out of their reach. He shoves Hera up ahead of him, to make sure she actually hits the ramp full-body, and pushes himself off after, perfectly willing to have to hang on by his fingertips for a few moments.
It'll be fine!
no subject
"Kanan, come on -"
no subject
"Whoever told you this was easy was a dirty liar," he says, but he does make it up onto the ramp and start hustling inside the ship.
"Nice job with the explosion, by the way."
no subject
"Zeb, get us out of here!"
Chopper's waiting for them, already blatting indignantly as the ramp closes and the ship jerks upward. But Hera stops for a second, pulling herself up against the cargo bay wall and breathing heavily, resting her hands on her knees as she leans forward.
"Are you -" She takes another deep breath, then, "Are you okay?"
no subject
Just breathing.
"No. But now's not the time for me to not be okay, so I'll -- I'll hold on until we're safely somewhere else. That was -- "
He swallows. Hard.
"I wasn't expecting that. For the Hutt to have . . . "
no subject
"I -"
She's already running for the ladder, to climb up and into the ship. "I'm sorry, Kanan, I'll -"
no subject
He takes a deep breath, standing up.
"I'll go man the guns. Go!"
Kanan's fine. He's completely fine. And there's still work to be done before they're safely away.