for_everyone | (no subject)

Hera returns to the cockpit, helping Chopper set them on a course back to Lothal. It's a roundabout route of hyperspace lanes – the Empire knows they fled, and knows they're likely to return, so it's all the better to take their time and avoid any paths they're likely to be monitoring. It'll also take a large bite out of their fuel supplies, more than Hera really wants to lose right now. But she knows it's worth it not to cut corners, not when the Imperials will be out for blood, not just for the new TIE they'd destroyed, but for spiriting Tseebo and all the intel he had away from them.

And that intel –

She forces herself to be patient, to take her time setting out the coordinates, in working through Chopper's frustrations with her insistence they take every precaution possible. And finally, with their course laid in and the coordinates of their first leg ready, Hera takes the Ghost into hyperspace, the ship shifting forward, the stars beyond them blurring into streaks of blue and white.

Hera doesn't linger in the pilot's chair. She leaves Chopper to monitor their progress, and then climbs down out of the cockpit. As she makes her way through the ship, she notices a light from the nose gun turrets, and stops for just a few seconds. But then she keeps moving, onward to the cabins, until she comes to a halt outside Kanan's.

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Hera nods, her eyes falling.

"In that case," she says, slowly. "I should probably go and start getting the word out."

Edited 2018-04-11 23:06 (UTC)

"Probably," he agrees, taking a deep breath.

"And if there are any places left that our contacts don't overlap . . . I can put some kind of word out there, too. And I'll keep an eye on him, on his . . . "

Kanan gestures vaguely toward Ezra's cabin.

"On how he's feeling. And how he's expressing it."

"All right."

She reaches out again, this time briefly putting her hand on his knee.

"If it looks like we should rethink this..."

Well, they can always do that.

"We'll know."

He rests his hand on hers, just for a few seconds, lifting away just before she moves her own hand away.

"I can only hope we'll get to give him good news."

Given the Empire, it's a very faint hope, but --

"Then the sooner we start, the better."

And she stands from the bunk, giving him one last, small smile before she heads for the door.

"I'll be out in a minute," he says, mouth quirking up at one corner even as she turns to go.

They have a plan, and it's . . . . it's going to have to do, for now.

But first, meditation, just to get his nerves back under control.