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At last, Hera reaches her cabin.

Like the others, there are two bunks built into the wall, and lights that flicker on when she enters. To the right there's a small table and chair, the table covered in datatapes, darkened holos, tools – they're mostly arranged for convenience, though some spillover has occurred. In the drawers beneath her bunk are her spare blaster, vibroblade, clothes, medical supplies. Some worst-case-scenario replacements for Chopper. The flight simulator her mother had found for her when she was a girl.

Hera doesn't look at the table. She only pauses long enough to reach to her cap, pulling off her goggles and setting them down among the datatapes. Without changing, without stopping long enough to think of anything else she might need to do, Hera walks to her bunk, and climbs into it, carefully settling in on her side and resting her head down on the thin bedding.

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There's a quiet knock not too long after, and Kanan, voice pitched low, says, "I brought dinner."

Clearly Zeb and Ezra don't get any -- at least none they didn't make themselves, after the debacle that was today.

"Unless you're already sleeping, in which case . . . "

It's a moment before she responds. But -

"You can come in."

She'll be sitting up on the bunk by the time the door opens.

Kanan's carrying a plate of protein cubes, spiced with the bitter herb blend Hera tends to favor. If they'd had something closer to Rylothian cuisine he might have tried to throw that together, but --

Ship life is what it is.

He's also got some tea in a cup, enough for both of them.

"Long day, huh."

"You could say that."

She glances at the table, but then decides against it, instead sliding sideways on the bunk to make room for him.

Kanan moves to fill the vacated space, holding up the plate on his thigh instead of setting it down anywhere.

"I could probably use some stronger words, too, but -- you and Sabine made it out alive. Are you doing all right?"

Hera reaches out to take the plate from Kanan.

"We're alive," she agrees. "But we could've both been killed over a silly mistake. We can't afford things like that."

"I'd bet it's the last time Zeb and Ezra make this kind of mistake. They took it hard, when you got in trouble."

Chop . . . Kanan's not going to say anything about Chopper.

"I'll keep a sharper eye on them, too, for a while."

Hera nods, looking down at the plate and idly stirring at the chunks of protein. For a few seconds it's all she does, considering what she wants, or needs, to say next.

"I think we need to talk about Sabine."

"We can do that," Kanan agrees, though he does frown very slightly.

"Do you mean her behavior on the planet? I thought she seemed a lot less upset when you got back, though that could just be relief at not dying."

Um.

"I think we've reached an understanding."

Hera finally dips her spoon into the protein, carefully scooping up a small mouthful.

"But I don't know if it'll hold."

"What do you think she'll do when it stops holding?"

That'll give them an idea of how severe the fallout would be, at least. Which . . . might change their strategy. Somewhat.

If they can figure out a strategy to have, when actual information is at a premium. (And incredibly unsafe to have, as well.)

"I don't know," she answers. "But I know I don't want to lose her."

"I don't, either," Kanan allows, because it's true.

"I know there's not much more you can tell her, but -- are there ways to give her more responsibility in our missions, or maybe in the planning stages? Something that will . . . keep her active and involved, and to reinforce that she's a trusted and important part of the crew?"

"We can work on it," Hera says, dipping her spoon against the plate again. "She might feel less like she's being asked to blindly follow orders if we make sure she has more of a say in them."

Still, her eyes stay down as she speaks.

Kanan's frown gets deeper the longer Hera doesn't look at him.

"Are you . . . Hera, are you regretting the secrets you have to keep? Is -- "

Is this what it takes to make them too heavy to hold?

Hera sets down the spoon, closing her eyes for a second. "I don't regret it."

Her eyes flutter open again, and finally, she does look up to him. "But she has a point. The bad or incomplete intel - I don't think it's going to get better. I know it's necessary, I understand it - but how much can I ask her to take on faith?"

Kanan knows they both don't like the obvious answer, but still --

"As much as you have to, in order to get the job done. But I think she'll start to see the pattern herself, eventually. And . . . "

He trails off, picking up the mug of tea he intended for himself and cupping it in both his hands.

"If things are ever really going to move forward, it'll turn into more coordination rather than less. We might have to hold out for less time than you think."

Maybe.

It may be the obvious answer. But it still helps Hera to hear it outside her own head.

And true to that, she doesn't answer Kanan. Not even a nod. Maybe it won't be much longer. Maybe it will. Her eyes fall, and she picks up her spoon again.

"I just -"

She thinks back to Sabine's words back at Fort Anaxes, but doesn't repeat them. Instead, she silently shakes her head.

"I don't know. I hope I'm not leading all of us into a nightmare."

Kanan shakes his own head, eyes closing for a moment.

"There's no way to be sure until we're either in it or we're not. But I believe that, if we do end up in the middle of a nightmare, it's going to be a necessary one, and we'll be helping other people get through to the other side."

For what that's worth.

Hera swallows down, then presses her spoon hard against the plate.

"I'm glad we have our crew," she says, quietly. "But some things were easier when it was just us."

"Some things," Kanan agrees, inclining his head in a short nod. "But our work hits a greater scope now, because we have more people capable of keeping things going."

He rubs his forehead with one hand, the other holding tight to his mug.

"It's only going to get harder from here, but it was always going to go this way. Insurgency . . . well, it is what it is."

"I know."

She still hasn't continued eating yet. Hera stares down at the plate, not really looking at the food.

"But I know I don't think of them as just crew. And it's - gotten harder, to think about why I have to keep these things from them. From all of you."

"The only way for that not to be hard is for you not to care -- about them, about me -- and I can't say I see that as something you'd be able to live with. I can promise I'll do everything I can to make that an eventuality that never comes into play, but we both know that doesn't mean anything when we're fighting against the Empire."

He exhales heavily.

"There isn't an easy answer. I'm not even sure there's an answer at all, except to quit this life and find a barren world in the Outer Rim that has nothing anybody would ever dream of caring about on it. But then we'd starve, so . . . "

It seems to work like a signal to Hera. She finally lifts the spoon again, eating another small portion of the spiced protein.

After she does, "I was about Sabine's age when I left home."

She's quiet after she says it, taking another small bite from the meal. Then, "I'm not sure what I would've thought of myself, now."

Edited 2018-04-01 03:44 (UTC)

Kanan's quiet for a minute, taking a sip of his tea, weighing out what he's going to say next.

The memory of Caleb is like a spur, or maybe a goad, and --

"Does it matter? No one's life goes the way they think it will, and all we can be is the product of our choices up to now. Do you think you're doing the right thing? You now, not you then."

"I don't think she'd be disappointed with how things turned out," Hera clarifies.

At least, it's like she'd expected to defeat the Empire by now.

"It's more, I wonder what she'd think of me as her captain."

"Oh, well, in that case . . ."

He musters up a tiny smile, faint and crooked.

"What kind of leader did you used to want to follow? Or think you wanted to be?"

With a small smile of her own, "One that could be completely honest and fair with her crew all the time?"

"You would be if you could be," Kanan says. "And if other people's lives weren't hanging in the balance. Within those bounds . . . honestly, you do a good job. Caleb'd follow you, if he were still around."

Just like Kanan.

Her eyes flicker up a little quickly when Kanan says that name, but she quickly looks down again, and nods.

"Thanks, Kanan."

After a beat, she adds, "For dinner."

"You're welcome," he says, smiling slightly. (This one takes a lot less effort than the last.)

"For dinner."

Edited 2018-04-01 04:27 (UTC)

Hera smiles in return, then turns to slowly work through the food.

Because she is hungry. But also to show she appreciates it.

Kanan appreciates her effort, keeping pace with her as he drinks his tea.

This is definitely a good day not to be alone.

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