Hera Syndulla (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
for_everyone) wrote2018-03-31 12:57 am
for_everyone) wrote2018-03-31 12:57 am
Entry tags:
(no subject)
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.
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.
no subject
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."
no subject
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."
no subject
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 . . . "
no subject
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."
no subject
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."
no subject
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."
no subject
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?"
no subject
no subject
Just like Kanan.
no subject
"Thanks, Kanan."
After a beat, she adds, "For dinner."
no subject
"For dinner."
no subject
Because she is hungry. But also to show she appreciates it.
no subject
This is definitely a good day not to be alone.