#(hera left chopper (who is still a droid in this au) with ezra to keep him out of trouble) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bikananjarrus · 1 month ago

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kanera week 2024 - day 2

prompt: reunion

rating: gen | word count: 3.5k | ao3 link

[note: sorry for the delay on this one! this was supposed to be much shorter than it is, but, well. you know how it is. this is a kanan lives au feat. post-battle reunion on endor (and more kanan + ghost crew feelings about the end of the war than expected, hence why this is about 2k longer than planned!). ezra is still missing and jacen has not been born yet in this au]

They stood together at the top of the Ghost’s lowered ramp, foreheads pressed together, Kanan’s hands resting on her waist, Hera’s curled into the lapels of his jacket. Kanan refused to think this was the last time he would hold her like this.

Base was alive and bustling around them. Officers ran back and forth across the landing bay, handing off reports, updating orders, some of them practically doing hurtles over droids that trundled through with supplies. Ground teams prepped for landing on Endor’s forest moon. Pilots rushed to their ships, readying to launch to their first jump point and wait for the go-ahead from General Solo’s ground team before following General Calrissian’s assault on the second Death Star. Hera was one of those pilots.

They had minutes left before Kanan needed to join Zeb and Kallus with their ground team, and Hera needed to ready the Ghost for take-off.

He knew that anyone could see up the Ghost’s ramp, see the two of them embraced as they were. It wasn’t exactly like his and Hera’s relationship was a secret. But he knew how much Hera valued keeping things professional in public. As a general, she had an image to maintain. He respected that. And at times, it made it all the more fun when they got a chance to sneak off for a few precious moments of alone time.

But right now, he didn’t care if anyone saw them. Hera must not have minded either, because she didn’t seem too keen on letting him go.

Her fingers tightened almost imperceptibly around the front of his jacket. “Promise me you’ll be careful.” While he couldn’t see her face, he thought her chin might be trembling, because her next words came out in a wobbly whisper. “Promise me you’ll come back to me.”

Kanan pressed a kiss right between her creased brows. “I promise, love.” Another kiss to the tip of her nose. “I’ll have Zeb and Rex watching my back. Kallus, too, I suppose.” That made her chuckle and he smiled in turn. “I’m more worried about you.”

A firefight on the ground was one thing. Dangerous, of course. At times unpredictable, hard to navigate a battlefield, especially in unfamiliar territory. But, even with the odds stacked against them, a ground fight allowed more opportunities to turn those odds in their favor.

A dogfight in the blackness of space was another thing entirely. The whole battle map was laid out before you, with nothing to stand between you and the laser-fire of enemy ships except skill and the cold vacuum of the cosmos.

Hera was the greatest pilot he’d ever seen. But all it took was one wrong move and she would be nothing but stardust.

“You’ve got Zeb and Rex. I’ve got Sabine and Chopper.”

“We should’ve just offered to smuggle Chopper onboard the Death Star. He’d have that thing imploding in no time.”

Hera laughed softly again, sweeping one hand up to cup his jaw. Her thumb brushed over the apple of his cheek, then a little higher to the edge of the scar that ran beneath his eyes. She kissed him with sound reassurance. “I’ll be careful,” she vowed against his lips. “Promise.”

She kissed him once more, and then started to pull back. Kanan didn’t want her to—but if they didn’t separate now, he wasn’t sure he’d have the strength to walk away from her.

Kanan’s hands were still loosely gripping Hera’s when he heard the familiar rumble of Chopper’s wheels against the ramp, just a moment before Sabine announced her presence with a boisterous, “Who’s ready to blow up another Death Star?”

He chuckled, at last letting go of Hera to stretch his arms out for Sabine instead. She stepped fully into his hug. He ruffled the back of her freshly cut mullet (he’d sat in the ‘fresher with her while she’d cut her hair the other night, describing the process and the bright orange to buttery yellow gradient she’d dyed it with) and she swatted at his hand playfully, twirling out of his grip.

“You know, for some of us, this is a first time experience,” he pointed out, barely containing a grin. “Some of us were in a coma when the first Death Star blew up.”

He could practically feel Sabine and Hera rolling their eyes simultaneously.

Sabine gave his shoulder a playful shove. “Yeah, yeah, we know. Please—tell us again how you very heroically almost got blown up.”

Kanan laughed, then reached through the air until he found Hera’s hand again. He joked about his near-death—very, very near-death—experience on Lothal years ago now; they were in a place now that they could all make fun about it. But he gave her fingers a light squeeze, silently conveying that, despite his joking, he knew how serious it had been. How close she’d come to losing him. She wouldn’t lose him this time, either.

She squeezed his hand back, thumb pressing into the back of his fingerless gloves and the burn scars underneath. “It’s time to go.”

His chest tightened at the words. “Yeah.”

Still, he didn’t let go. He could feel her gaze on him, drinking him in.

For the millionth time since Malachor, Kanan wished he could see her—really see her. He wanted to rememorize the exact shade of green of her skin, her eyes. He wanted to see the half-smile she got when she was planning something brilliant or devious or both. He wanted to see the way her cheeks flushed when he kissed her, wanted to see the exact way her mouth curved around the syllables of his name.

Since that wasn’t possible, he instead sank into the Force. It danced around her in a steady, but brilliant flow, and he grounded himself in that feeling, breathing easier with each of her exhales.

Kanan kissed her one more time. “I love you.”

“And I love you,” she whispered back.

They stood close for a few precious seconds more. Then in one swift movement, he pulled away, striding down the ramp to put distance between them.

“Be careful,” she called after him.

With a two-finger salute and a cheeky grin, he replied, “Aye aye, General. See you on the other side.”

The next thirty-six hours passed in waves—time speeding by in the blink of an eye one hour and dragging onto eternity the next. The chaos and necessity of battle made it relatively easy to focus on the mission at hand. But that didn’t stop Kanan from casting his mind out into the Force whenever he got the chance, searching for Hera.

Over and over, he sensed that she was okay. He was sure, down to his bones, that he would know if something was wrong. Her presence in the Force was as familiar as his own; he would feel it if something happened.

But that didn’t stop worry from gripping him like a cold hand latched around his spine.

Especially when the battle ended. And it did end.

Blaster fire stopped whizzing past his ears and cheers—from rebel and Ewok alike—erupted around the battlefield. He could feel others jostling around him, sense their upward gazes, hear the affirmation from all around him, “Look! The Death Star! They did it!”

Kanan couldn’t see it, of course—but he’d already known. He’d felt it when it happened, the Death Star’s destruction. Countless lives snuffed out at once; Like the exhale of a giant beast. The sensation of a distant space explosion beneath his feet; but maybe that was actually the tremor of Endor’s moon, shaking with the force of the blast.

More than that—through the Force—light.

Kanan had never felt the Force like this. He didn’t realize how…muffled it had been up until now. Akin to suddenly having a great, downy blanket torn off in one’s sleep. The contrast was sharp, bright. But refreshing.

The Force was what it was. It wasn’t light or dark on its own; it just was. And while no one being could truly have so much power as to control the entirety of it, Emperor Palpatine must have been powerful indeed to cast so much darkness over the Force for all these years.

Kanan staggered under the lightness he felt. He sucked in a deep breath, lungs expanding all the way. The sensation stretched his face in a wide smile, tears of pure, unadulterated joy pricking at his eyes.

“We’re free,” he whispered.

He swore he felt the brush of a ghostly hand on his shoulder.

Master, he thought, closing his eyes. We’re free. For a moment, the smell of smoke dissipated from the air, replaced only with the greenery around him and the spiced floral scent that had floated around Master Billaba in days long passed.

Her presence drifted away on the breeze and Kanan’s heart lifted with it.

With one thing left to do, Kanan reached for his comm on his belt, toggling it to their crew’s private channel. “Spectre One to Ghost. Come in, Spectre Two.”

Silence followed for a few impossibly long seconds. His throat tightened, and he tried to swallow down the fear.

Maybe the Death Star’s explosion had overridden any other feeling in the Force. Maybe she had been caught in the blast and he didn’t even know—

A crackle of static. Followed by her smiling voice, “Ghost to Spectre One. We read you loud and clear.”

He sighed in happy relief. “Copy that, Ghost. You all good up there?”

This time it was Sabine’s voice over the comms, sounding more victorious than she had in a long time. At least since before the Empire destroyed Mandalor, Sabine having just barely gotten her family out in time. “Better than good. You?”

Kanan twisted in place, reaching out with the Force. He had gotten separated from Zeb, Kallus, and Rex in the fight. “I’m fine. The others—”

“We’re all safe,” Zeb’s voice sounded over the channel. “I’ve got Kal and Rex here with me.”

“Glad to hear it. We’ll be joining you planetside shortly,” Hera said. And then, even though they were still on comms with everyone else, she added just for him, “See you soon, love.”

While he waited for the Rebel fleet to start landing on the moon, Kanan busied himself helping with triage. Andor and Erso had been put in charge of setting up a temporary med station while they waited for their primary medical frigate to arrive in friendly space. He helped with getting the wounded to the tented off area.

After helping the team who was clearing major debris out of the way, Zeb found him, Kallus and Rex trailing behind. Kallus gave his shoulder a comforting squeeze, but he was hauled into a hearty hug by Rex a second later.

“We did it, Commander,” Rex said, his gruff voice even rougher than usual, tinged with emotion as it was.

“We did it,” Kanan echoed.

Rifling in his pack as he pulled back, Rex grabbed Kanan’s hand and pressed something into it. “Here. Just in case you’re getting tired. I see yours fell off your belt.”

Kanan recognized the weight and feel of his extra probing cane immediately.

(Sabine had painted it, of course, telling him, “Just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean it shouldn’t look nice.” Still, she’d taken care to layer the paint over and over in a design comprised of swirls and whorls, the paint just raised enough that he could make it out with the touch of his fingertips).

“Thanks,” he said with a grateful smile. He was a bit worn out, having relied on the Force to see the entirety of the battle. And the cane he kept attached to his belt had gotten knocked off at some point during the day, lost amongst the foliage of Endor.

For the moment, though, he hooked this one onto his belt too. He had one more person to greet.

Kanan turned to where he could sense Zeb, and no sooner was he facing Zeb’s direction before the lasat was barreling into him, enveloping him in a huge hug.

Zeb was one of the few people in the galaxy who understood what Kanan was feeling in a way that many others didn’t—the Empire that had almost entirely destroyed both their peoples’ in its rise to power. Though the fight against the Empire had been happening for over two decades, to have it finally snuffed out with one last battle…it was hard to put the impossibility of that into words. So Kanan knew he wasn’t imagining the way Zeb was quietly shaking, or the soft sniffles that punctuated the air near his ear.

“Me too, big guy, me too,” Kanan said, voice muffled by Zeb’s shoulder. There would be more time later for them to sit down and properly honor both the Jedi and Lasan. For now, he just squeezed one of his oldest friends back tightly.

It was Zeb who pulled back with a quiet, “Kanan.” Then Zeb was putting his hands on his shoulders, turning Kanan away from him—towards something else. “The Ghost is coming down.”

With Zeb’s hand on his back guiding him, they headed for the wider part of the clearing that Zeb had helped clear out for the ships coming planetside. As they got closer, close enough that he could pick the familiar rumble of the Ghost’s engines out from the rest, Kanan picked up his pace, leaving Zeb and the others behind.

New voices and shouts of excitement and victory rose up as others finished their landing cycles, and pilots descended from their ships, running to reunite with their own friends.

Kanan stopped where he was sure he wouldn’t be in danger of getting squashed by the landing ship, and waited, heart thrumming in his chest.

He heard the Ghost land, felt the shudder under his feet as the freighter touched down, followed by the low whine of the engine’s powering down. The scent of fresh carbon scoring was faint in the air. There was a gentle whir as the ramp lowered.

From the second he sensed Hera at the top of the ramp—right where they’d stood together early yesterday—Kanan was moving. Her feet touched solid ground and he was instantly there to scoop her into his arms.

She clung to him, burying her face into the crook between his shoulder and neck. Overjoyed, her laugh echoed around him as he spun her.

They were here—they were alive.

Somewhere behind him he heard Chopper warbling and Sabine letting out a surprised yelp as Zeb pulled her into her own bone-crushing embrace.

But everyone else felt far away compared to the woman in his arms, radiating joy and laughter and utter relief.

Kanan set her down but kept her close. Close enough to kiss her soundly, cupping her face between his hands. Her cheeks were wet with tears, lips salty with them.

“Hey, hey,” he soothed, touching his forehead to hers the way he had yesterday. “I’m here. We’re here, we’re safe. It’s over, Hera. It’s over.” He pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “We did it, love.”

“We did it,” she sniffled. She laughed again, the sound watery with her tears. One of her gloved hands was tangled in his half-down hair, the other caressing his jaw.

She kissed him again, before wrapping him up in another hug. Kanan closed his eyes and just held her, his heart content.

Celebrations took place later that night, and Kanan barely left Hera’s side. He spent most of the night with his cane in one hand, and holding Hera’s hand with the other. He gave and received more hugs than he ever had in his life; they cheered and danced and sang; he smiled and laughed until his cheeks hurt and his ribs were sore. He couldn’t remember a time he’d felt this much joy at once.

At one point, a bunch of them gathered around a radio one of the pilots had carried into the Ewok village. They listened as the news carried across every available channel in the galaxy: the Emperor was dead and the Empire along with him. The galaxy was free.

After hours of music and fireworks and celebration, Hera tugged him away from it all, off to a distant, quiet platform of the village. Some of the rebels were slumbering in the village that night. They had already decided they would make their way back to the Ghost eventually to sleep in their own bed.

Hera sat down against the tree trunk that jutted through the center of the circular platform. She took his cane, and he heard her folding it up as he settled down next to her. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and she leaned her head against him immediately, taking his free hand between her own.

Kanan took a deep breath. As much as he relished the celebrations, the quiet was a relief. He let himself drift for a moment—listening to the rustle of leaves all round them, soaking in the cool night breeze, the scent of distant fires tickling his nose.

“It still doesn’t feel real,” Hera murmured.

Kanan hummed in agreement, rubbing his thumb back and forth against her index finger.

Mirthfully, she scoffed. “I have no idea what I’m going to do tomorrow.”

They both knew there would be plenty to do—too much, even. The Empire was finished, but the work wasn’t. But he knew what she meant; it was the principle of the thing. After spending the last twenty-three years under the thumb of Imperial rule, the future was frighteningly full of possibilities.

“Sleep in for once?” he suggested. He was an early riser naturally; he liked doing his meditation in the morning. Hera’s early schedule was all thanks to her alarms and the strict schedule of a rebellion leader.

“Mm, sleeping in would be nice. Maybe breakfast in bed afterwards. When’s the last time we did that?”

“Too long ago to remember.” He nudged his foot against her own playfully. “I could be persuaded to do breakfast in bed. Depending, of course—” he stroked his fingers down the one lek curled pliantly over her shoulder, delighting as she shivered against him, “—on what’s on the menu.”

“Oh, I don’t know, dear, you tell me.” He could hear the smile in her voice as she twisted to nip at his earlobe lightly.

He chuckled, turning his head to capture her lips with his own. They kissed until the tips of his ears warmed and they were both a little breathless.

With a last peck to her temple, he leaned his head back against the tree trunk, willing his heated blood to cool and Hera tucked deeper into his side.

They sat in companionable silence for a while. Another bout of fireworks started lighting up the sky again, and Kanan had to imagine the bright colors as their booms filled the night.

The thought popped into his head unbidden, I wonder how they’re celebrating on Lothal right now. It was like being doused with cold water.

It’s not like this was the first time he’d thought of Ezra, even today. His thoughts drifted constantly to his padawan—really, former padawan; Ezra had more than done enough to prove himself worthy of the title of Jedi Knight.

But the ache of missing Ezra and the sudden longing to be on Lothal—the closest planet they could call home—dug sharply into his chest.

“Kanan?” Hera asked. He didn’t realize how tense he’d suddenly gotten until she was smoothing a hand over his chest. “What’s wrong?”

He shook his head. “Nothing. I’m okay. It’s—tonight’s been perfect.” He exhaled through his nose. “Except…”

“Ezra,” she finished for him quietly. Quickly; like she’d been thinking about the missing member of their family, too.

“Yeah. I just…I wonder if he could sense it, where he is, the Emperor dying or the Death Star. Or if he’s just too far away from us that he doesn’t know.”

Hera squeezed his hand and pressed a soothing kiss to his cheek. “He knows we’re out here. That’s all that matters.” He nodded, but couldn’t bring himself to speak. She pressed on, “We’ll find him, we will. I really believe that.”

“I know we will,” he responded, the words heavy on his tongue.

All their leads on Ezra’s whereabouts had turned into dead-ends over the last several years of the war. But he believed Hera, he believed in her hope. And he believed in the Force, trusting that he would’ve known if something truly terrible had happened to Ezra, no matter how far away he was.

Then Hera said, “We can pick up where we left off with the search right away tomorrow.”

And at the promise of having a tomorrow, Kanan could only pull her impossibly closer.

Safe among their friends and the trees of Endor’s moon, they welcomed the first dawn of a free galaxy, together.

[end]

#thinking about kanan at the battle of endor and thinking about them all finally seeing the end of the empire got me emotional #kaneraweek2024 #kanera #swr #star wars rebels #kanan jarrus #hera syndulla #my writing #now the question is: will i get anything written later tonight for day 3. time will tell!

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pomrania · 8 years ago

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Colour and Meaning

((part of the Little by Little AU))

Sabine watched the setting sun, and contemplated the future. It wasn't something she did often. Oh, she planned, that was unavoidable, but if she could get away with it, she tried to not think about what life would have in store for them all. She couldn't get away with not thinking about it.

Any oath required careful consideration of what it meant and why it was being sworn. And given that she was creating her own rituals, she couldn't rely on previously-established forms and symbols. Everything had to come from her alone.

Colour gave her direction, and a place to start.

Red was for family, and blood, and the sun setting in front of her.

Family. Not the one that had rejected her, but the one that had taken her in. The family she would die for, the family she would kill for, the family she would live for. The family that had already suffered so much and was suffering even more. They were what was most important, and everything was for them.

Blood. Her blood, in the vial, ready for whenever she was ready to make her oath. The blood of her enemies, as they sprawled before her in defeat. The blood shed by her family and allies as they fought against a foe that outnumbered them and could seem overwhelming. Determination and sacrifice and knowing when to swallow your pride and back down for a more important fight later.

Sunset. Everything came to an end, eventually. It couldn't be stopped any more than you could stop the planet's rotation. Inevitability. But it was also the rising sun. New beginnings, and change. Everything would have to change. It was as natural as the cycle of day and night and day and night. All of her ancestors, everyone's ancestors, had gone through that, struggled with it, and coped to varying degrees. Loss was unavoidable, but giving up was a decision.

Red was the most common colour painted on the dokma for those silly races, if only because it was almost always available. Red was the colour of bloodshot eyes when someone had been crying. Red was the colour of the blade that had stolen Kanan's sight and permanently cut him off from her colours.

Orange was for living life to the fullest, and fire, and the painted clouds that streaked across the sky.

Life. Living fearlessly and joyfully, embracing each new day as it came. Looking forward without worry or regret. What Ezra didn't have at the moment. The future held the hope of adjusting and making progress, but the certainty of further vision loss. Fear. They all needed more orange. Joy came if you fought for it; fought your oppressors, your environment, the parts of your own mind that were holding you down.

Fire. Destruction. Both the trigger and the result of an explosion. The ruins of a home, or the ruins of an enemy base. The need to rebuild but also the way to rebuild. If properly directed and controlled, it could remove everything that was in the way and that shouldn't be there.

Clouds. Beauty. A beauty that no one seemed to appreciate as much as she did. A beauty that could only be seen. She still had no idea how she could express it otherwise in her art. Even if everyone learned how to read the tactile alphabet, that would only be a description, a pale and faint representation of what she wanted to get across with the shapes and colours.

Orange was the colour of Chopper's preferred paint job. Orange was the colour of Ezra's clothing, for as long as she had known him, with the only exception being when he was in disguise. Orange was the colour of the most recent painting on her door, unfinished because she had a hard time concentrating on it.

Yellow was vengeance, and the lights turning on in the distance to keep the base well-lit.

Vengeance. Satisfying, but in some cases not worth the time spent pursuing it. Three lives lost: the person originally harmed, your enemy's, and your own. The drive to hurt the cause, more than help what was left. Pointless, for the problem at hand. Nobody's fault. Nobody whose death or suffering would bring closure and vindication. Anger and rage that she had to somehow let go of, because there was no appropriate target.

Light. Ezra needed it more than anyone else did, at least at the moment. Needing assistance when everything still seemed normal. Kanan couldn't see light, and didn't know when he had left a light on. He checked, now. He didn't know if it was dark, or what anybody else could see. He didn't need light at all.

Yellow was the colour of Zeb's eyes, never crying no matter how he felt. Yellow was the colour of his ridiculous waffles; he liked them so that was good, but she didn't understand what was so special about them. Yellow was the colour of uniforms and helmets on the base.

Green was Hera, and duty, and how Hera balanced duty and everything else that was important to her.

The first impression Sabine ever had of Hera was as a green blur, asking where she was injured; then a slightly more distinct green blur, sitting by her bed as she began to heal; then a green alien. Hera didn't seem alien any more. Hera was family, a pilot, the captain of the Ghost, member of the Rebellion, and maybe ten or fifteen items down the list would be "twi'lek and not human".

Duty. Hera refusing to put more at risk to rescue Kanan. Balance. Hera going along with them once they had a plan that could work. Duty was Hera going on missions after Malachor, even though she wanted to stay and be with everyone, because there was nothing more she could do to help them at the moment. Duty was not letting the pain slip over into cruelty or recklessness. Duty was being there for others, even when it hurt so bad it felt overwhelming. Sabine could only hope that Hera still remembered to keep the balance.

Green was the colour of plants she had never really paid attention to. Green was the colour of Kanan's eyes, back when they were still clear. Green was the colour of laser fire from TIE fighters.

Blue was reliability, and lightsabers, and the sky darkening above her.

Reliability. Being there. Something you could trust to stay constant. What could be trusted, when your senses might fail at any moment? Kanan spoke of the Force. Maybe there was comfort in that. Something that would always exist, no matter what happened to you. Did they believe that it guided you? She could use some guidance. It felt wrong to turn to anyone there for help, when they were dealing with their own problems.

Lightsabers. The mark of a Jedi. Even if they came in other colours, Kanan's was blue and Ezra's first one had been blue. Did Kanan know that Ezra's blade was green now? The Force didn't tell him colours. They were all too human. Even Ahsoka, who wasn't human. Hadn't been. Figures of myth that suffered like anybody else. A weapon, no matter how powerful, was only as good as its wielder.

Sky. The overhead expanse that seemed limitless, and promising infinite possibilities. An illusion, albeit a nice-looking one. Impossible to reach unaided. Easily achieved, and more, in a ship. Distance was relative, depending on what you had available. Difficulty, as well. If a problem seemed insurmountable, you were approaching it the wrong way. Limits were there to be broken. Maybe not in the way you expected, but still. Freedom came first from within, then it could be expressed on the outside world.

Blue was the colour of Ezra's eyes, and they would stay that colour even when he had lost all sight from them. Blue was the colour of hyperspace, travelling and escaping. Blue was the colour of Rex's jaig eyes, and maybe he could help and understand, once he was back.

Black was for justice, and nightfall.

Justice. Justice had nothing to do with it. Kanan's only crime was dropping his guard for the wrong second. Ezra's only crime was being born to parents with a background of genetic disorders. The others, too. Their only crime was caring, so that it hurt when someone else hurt. If there was no justice in the past, it would have to be in the future. Going blind, no matter the cause, was nothing worthy of punishment. Treating it otherwise would be itself worthy of punishment. Justice was doing what was right, and fixing what was wrong. If only she knew how to do that.

Night. Dark. Making it so that you couldn't see. She didn't want to think about it. With your eyes closed, asleep, the dark was no problem. Avoiding the issue, to make it not hurt. Or maybe not needing to see, when you felt safe enough to rest, and everything you interacted with could be easily felt. Those same principles could be expanded, to make it easier. It would never be easy. But so that there was no fear of not knowing, or running into something. Only the fear of loss and change and everything you'd never get to experience ever again.

Grey was mourning and shadows. Everything the same colour. No colour. They shouldn't mourn. Ezra was still there. He wasn't dying. It was a loss, but not the end. They needed to support him. Shadows would come soon enough, no matter what they did. Grief was unavoidable, but once you got through it you could get back to the colours. She didn't want to give it a place of honour.

Nothing white was ever a good sign. White was the snow on a planet she would never return to. Stormtrooper armour. Walls that had to be scrubbed perfectly clean, as a punishment for stepping out of line. Bleached bones. Dead branches. A bandage covering ruined eyes. The medical droid who, although helpful, symbolized so much that had hurt her family. White was the flash of teeth exposed in a fake smile, either as a prelude to betrayal or pretending that everything was fine when it was obvious that the person was in pain, and she didn't know which felt worse.

She was out of colours, and out of daylight. Not out of thoughts. There was so much she had brought up, that she had to go over. But first, she needed to go back to the Ghost. She wasn't planning on sleeping out there, and she had other responsibilities still.

The short walk was enough to give her the outlines of what she would want or need (they were really the same thing, here) for her oath.

Absolutely nothing grey. Even if something was originally grey, she would paint it beforehand. Something white, to destroy. Ideally with fire. Removing everything that stood in the way, to make way for a life lived without fear or worry. The red of her blood, and maybe paint if that wasn't enough, in the image of a circle. Sunset and sunrise, and the connection of family. Orange anywhere she could conceivably fit it. Her vows in black. Those were the most important elements.

A sudden thought intruded on her mind. She was only swearing not to make fun of Ezra in any art he couldn't see. Under those terms -- and she wasn't even stretching them -- it would be entirely acceptable to have an audio recording making fun of him, or something written and textured that could be understood without needing sight. What if she added an example of that to the ritual?

Her first instinct was to reject the very idea... then she considered it some more. He wanted people to treat him normally. Well, "normal" for her included not letting him live it down, if he did something ridiculous. He wasn't going to suddenly become all dignified and graceful when he lost his sight, so she wasn't going to suddenly stop getting on his case when he deserved it.

He might feel like she was mocking him -- well, she would be, but specifically in a cruel way which was not her intention -- so she'd have to be careful with it. But if she managed to get it just right, it could add some much-needed levity to the whole thing, and help set up the balance she meant to still have with him in the future.

She now had a few well-defined problems she could attack. Which put her in a better position than she'd been in before, at least. Fire safety regulations on the base should be easy enough to find out. She needed to word everything perfectly, or as close to perfect as she could get, for the oath. Figuring out how to prevent everything from making Ezra feel worse would be complicated, to say the least, so she would have to start thinking about it as soon as possible. Once those were dealt with, she was confident in her ability to figure out the rest of it.

Sabine had contemplated the future, but the present was still calling her. And soon it would be literally, Hera asking what was taking her so long. The world didn't stop for you, no matter what you thought about or felt.

Besides, she still had an unfinished painting on her door. She felt that now, maybe she would be able to concentrate on it. It just needed some more red, and blue, and green, and black.

((thanks to @izzyovercoffee for their post about Mando colour symbolism; I used that only as a basis, so don’t blame them for any problems in here))

#original content #not a reblog #fandom: star wars #star wars rebels #writing #sabine wren #little by little #star wars au

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multi-muse-transect · 8 years ago

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Bad Moon Rising.

AU: Agent Mira’s mission was simple, put down the uprising. But she got what she bargained for as her training may have taught her everything but it didn’t prepare her for her greatest enemy-Her family. Prequel to A Mother’s Sacrifice and A Father’s Sacrifice.

TW: Suicide attempt.

A camera activates revealing Mira on screen. On the bottom right of the screen reads agent Mira, agent code: 1337420, on the top right is the date and next to it is Rey in a small screen. Her location is at Lothal after Mira told her to run away and as always, still a scavenger who sells old defunct Imperial items in the market and she is making a living out of it. Got herself a house too. Mira is wearing a black under suit as she smiles at Rey in the camera.

“Hey baby! So how’s Lothal?” Mira asks in excitement knowing Rey heeded her advice in leaving Jakku since she feared the Resistance would take her. She has privileges yes but the notion of a trooper having a relationship within the First Order is trouble brewing so she mustered a lot of money and donations from friends in other outposts, put an end to Unkar Plutts via blaster shot then replaced him with constable Zuvio’s cousin, Drego who is a much more fair junk boss and then finding a shuttle leaving Jakku before giving Rey the money she needed to get out.

“Well like you said and I fell for it, it’s amazing so far! The people here are so nice and the opportunities here are endless! Thank you....” Rey thanked with a smile. Mira smiles in response knowing her girlfriend is happy even though they are far apart from each other. She swears one day to leave the First Order and go to Lothal.

“Yeah, courtesy of me.” Mira replied.

“So how’s Rescue and Intelligence division?” Rey asks her knowing that Mira always wanted to be in that part of the First Order.

“Helping others, rescuing the innocents, keeping order and the peace. Being an all around hero to others and defending the innocents too.” Mira bragged. Rey chuckles.

“Wow, you’re still a dork.” Rey observed.

“Oh you’re a much more bigger one than me.” Mira countered. Rey shakes her head while smirking. She is about to open her mouth but the door behind her begins to open.

“Oh, it must be the neighbors! I’m so supposed to be attending a party! See you soon!” Rey said.

“You too then.” Mira replied before Rey signs off.

A pair of hands reaches towards the computer as it becomes apparent that it’s Mira again. She activates the call.....No answer. Mira decides to leave a message so she puts it on as the camera reveals her face. She is breathing heavily as shots and explosions are heard.

“Rey.....Rey listen to me. I know its late but this might be the last time you’ll see me.....This rebel cell has invaded our home base of the division. We’re under attack and they’ve started an uprising with the help of some kind rebel cell from Lothal known as the spectres, they are highly trained and dangerous....There’s a high chance they’ll find out about you. About us. Thrawn says they know me. If you get this message....Stay away! Forget you ever knew me....I love you. Have a good life.” She shuts off the computer as the lights flicker to reveal herself in her typical super commando-like armor while she puts on her helmet then picking up her rifle and holstering her dark saber on her belt. She heads outside of her room as numerous agents are running left and right. Her coms go off.

“Mira, it’s Kallus! We’re in the pad! Get there ASAP!” Her team leader ordered her. Mira nods then runs off. She hears a sudden ship sound causing her to turn to the window to see an A-wing make a run and start firing but the shields deflect his shots while a TIE fighter chases it. From what she can tell, its one of Phoenix Squadron. She continues to run then into the ship pad where numerous Rescue and Intelligence agents are are entering there individual ships which are Imperial stealth gunships that resemble the ones from the Clone Wars except much more advanced. This one is colored olive and green which belongs to her team, fireteam sprectre. Zuke is busy adjusting the barrel of his blastmill rifle, it clicks while he turns the barrel. Blackjack spins the inquisitor lightsaber while its deactivated with Convor aka Lena Tua is checking her pistols before holstering them. Kallus arrives as the team get inside the gunship with Convor manning it.

“Everyone in?” Kallus asks.

“YES SIR!” They replied in unison. Kallus turns to the pilot which is Tua and nods. The gunship begins to rise before flying straight into the city. Intel is sketchy but there are reports of rioting and multiple buildings attacked. Mira looks at the city as fire is present. The city was a place of peace and a shining example of what the First Order can do...Not anymore at least. It saddens the team and the agents. To relieve some tension, Convor puts on the radio as it plays Bad Moon Rising by Credence Sweetwater Revival. Mira rolls her eyes and turns to her.

“Oh way to sum up our situation.” Mira sarcastically sighed knowing of her habit of turning on some music to calm everyone calm down. The gunship flies into the city as riots are now visible. Most of them are supported by the Partisans who have been fighting the Rescue and Intelligence division alongside the First Order. Riot troopers are trying there best to fight them off but there are Partisans gunning them down in the process. Partisans spot the gunships causing them to open fire at them but Convor guns them all down before the swarm of gunships that were with them return to formation. They hover over the buildings in the financial district. The door slides open as Mira, Blackjack, Zuke, and Kallus hook up the rappelling gear on the ship before grabbing on and sliding down on the roof.

An agent wearing white stormtrooper armor with red stripes on him alongside a red paldron and having dual blaster pistols holstered on his hips crouches in front of the door while aiming his blaster rifle at it. He is agent Fordo, a former stromtrooper like every agent. He specializes in recon alongside the rest of his team led by agent Ophelia Saxon who is another Mandolorian and wears armor similar to Mira except red and also has a bandoleer slashed on her chest.

“Fordo! What’s the sitrep?” Mira asks before Fordo gets up then turns to him while the rest of his team flies towards them and lands. Ophelia breaches the door first.

“What are we even here for?” Zuke asks too.

“We’re here to find the spectres aka the crew of the Ghost. As you all heard, they are a small band of rebels in the early years of the Rebellion and caused problems. They still continue to cause them for us. Be wary-Apparently Ophelia’s dad fought them once and paid the price-They consist of the head of clan Wren, Sabine, Jedi master Ezra Bridger and Kanan Jarrus, Hera Syndulla, Lasat Honor guard Garazeb Orrellios, and droid Chopper.” Fordo explained.

“And why the most dangerous group from the Rebellion is here?” Kallus asks him.

“They do runs for the Resistance now and supporting the Partisans who are led by Mala Karn, the media dub him as the new Saw Gerrera. Intel reports state that Mala had some help from the crew to organize this uprising.” The agent continued.

“So if we find the crew then they could be the key to finding Karn. Can’t wait to kill that child killing bastard.” Kallus growled. Fordo nodded in agreement before signaling them to come. Ophelia leads them downstairs while Mira walks ahead since she’s the team’s tracker and point-woman.

“Long time no see Ophie.” Mira greeted as Ophelia nods.

“And you too Mira, it’s almost yesterday I saw you become an agent after graduation.” Ophelia replied. She is known to be Gar Saxon’s daughter who fled with her mother in the battle of Jakku and joined up with the First Order.

“Also don’t call me Ophie please.” She continued. They arrive at the door as Mira and Ophelia lean against the walls. Mira signals an agent to kick the door down The agent runs up to the door then kicks it down. Suddenly, a hail of blaster fire almost hits him but Mira pushes him out of the way The team heads in with Zuke blasting his weapon while suppressing fire. They all take cover while returning fire.

Ezra, Mala, Sabine, Kanan, and Zeb watch the camera footage as the Partisans suppress the agents. It was only a matter time before they arrived. Ezra has heard of this sect of the First Order, they deal in rescue operations and spec-ops level missions. The best of the best. They also come by another name, First Order Special Tactics and Rescue Squad aka STARS which was ironic since it sounds like the team from Sabine’s favorite video game, Resident Rakghoul. They are a force to be reckoned with due to there unpredictable nature and diverse tactics. The best of the best.

“I should’ve known they would’ve come here. It would have been only a matter of time.” Mala said then turns to his men.

“We are clearing house! Lets move out before they arrive.” He ordered. Kanan places his hand on his shoulder causing the leader to turn around.

“You know what we came here for Mala.” Kanan stated. The man sighs before handing Kanan something.

“This is all the intel on the stormtroopers. Mira could be among the millions if not billions of them. Good luck on your daughter Ezra.” Mala nodded.

“This is going to be the last time we work with you.” Ezra replied in bitterness.

“Ezra, what I do is for the greater good and you should know that. Every recruit I kill, halts the expansion of the First Order.” Mala defended.

“You could’ve killed our daughter.” Sabine growled before helping the men with the stuff. Mala shakes his head before deleting all data then going on the radio to his men.

The Partisans are raining hell upon the agents as they move in closer. Mira crawls then pulls out her dark saber to cut ones leg causing him to fall on the ground easily right before she decapitates him. She continues to crawl while avoiding the shots with the Partisans not noticing her. Mira hides behind a cubicle while readying her rifle. She fires out of cover and hits a Partisan in the face. There coms go off.

“We’re clearing house.” Mala stated as a Partisan nods. He signals his men to move out as they continue to fire and walk away. The Partisan notices Mira behind cover causing him to pull out a detonator. Mira’s eyes widen so she vaults over the cover. Under the floor are remote bombs set to hinder there paths. The bombs explode causing the floor to collapse as Mira runs towards them while pulling out her dark saber and slicing an incoming Partisan as the floor collapses. The Partisans run away from Mira into a hall as Mira runs towards them before the door slides shut leaving Mira alone before the rest of the agents could arrive.

“Shit....” Mira cursed before readying her rifle again and walking very slowly to look at her surroundings at the same time. Suddenly, Sabine comes out from a corridor and slams Mira against the wall. She grabs onto her while Mira soon throws her on the ground before activating her dark saber.

“Sabine Wren! You’re coming with me.....” She growled.

“Hey that’’s mine! The dark saber!” Sabine observed while getting up and remembering the fight she had with Phasma prior. How Phasma stole the dark saber from her.

“Phasma gave it to me as a gift! A well earned one!” Mira charges and swings the dark saber at Sabine who dodges to the left. She swings it at her at the right before Sabine dodges again then using her legs to lift herself against the wall and kicking Mira in the face. Mira swings the weapon again but Sabine ducks and kicks Mira right in the stomach against a door. She activates the door switch which opens it before Sabine fires a sonic blaster at her. The door slides open as Mira is launched by the sonic blast and lands against the glass which begins to crack. Sabine activates her lasso and launches one at Mira who gets out of the way. She then launches the lasso again which entangles Mira’s arm. Mira pulls at Sabine forcefully right before punching her in the face. Sabine knees Mira in the stomach which breaks a rib but Mira quickly grabs her and slams her against the desk of the office room then using the magna cuffs to restrain her. Mira yelps in pain while covering her stomach and hanging her head. She aims her blaster Sabine....Her helmet falls off.

Sabine’s jaw drops upon seeing her own daughter. She attacked her own baby girl....Mira looks at her with bitter eyes of hatred.

“Mira....?” Sabine teared up as Mira looks in confusion.

“How....How do you know my name?” Mira asks her.

“Mira....Mira it’s me. Your mother! You don’t recognize me?” She replied. Mira could see the resemblance and has an expression the eyes of one who has been awoken to the truth. Mira picks up her helmet then puts it on. She gulps then limps against wall.

“Mira please....Please listen to me! I know you don’t know us but-” Mira turns around to Sabine in sad eyes before closing the door. She goes over to pick up her rifle on the ground as she continues to limp. Mira drops on the ground on her knees in emotional and physical agony....Her helmet falls on the ground. A range of emotions are going through her. She’s having a break down. The helmet rolls over to Ezra’s foot who looks in shock after sensing the fight.

“My face....Give me back by face.....” Mira pleaded to Ezra trying to cling to her loyalty to the First Order. Ezra walks towards her before she gets up then crawls back to where Sabine is...

“Don’t make me do this! JUST GIVE ME BACK MY FACE!” She warned before pulling out her dark saber.

“Mira....I know this is too much to take in. But listen to me....You’re Mira Wren Bridger. My daughter. I know you’re loyal to the First Order and all but you have to listen to us....” The door slides open as Mira walks away from Ezra. She leans against the glass window as it is cracked. She would rather die than join the traitors that are her parents. Ezra stops knowing Mira is thinking causing him to put down his lightsaber. Mira pulls out her blaster pistol and aims it underneath her chin as she quivers at the sight of the Jedi.

“Drop....Drop the gun Mira. We’re all here to help you. Just come with us....” Ezra begged.

“I....No...Just stay where you are!” Mira yelled with tears visible in her eyes.

“We’ve went all the way here to find you Mira! We’re sorry that we left you with Ketsu! Just please!” Sabine pleaded. Mira is close to pulling the trigger....But she doesn’t. Her hand turns numb as she drops the gun. Ezra walks over to Sabine so he can free her but the agents finally arrive via floor and begin shooting at them as Ezra quickly does it and destroys the cuffs with the two running away. Ezra pauses then turns to Mira who shakes her head at him before he sighs in sadness then runs away. The agents check on Mira as she gets up.

Mira sits on her crutches after the uprising. Her ribs will heal which is good to hear...Although she is still haunted by the reunion she had with her true family. The uprising failed as always and ordered has been restored. She goes on her computer to call Rey.....She isn’t answering. Mira places her face against her desk while sobbing....

Rey sits in front of Ezra and Sabine. She was taken in by Ryder Azadi after doing her shift.

“....We need to talk.”

#star wars rebels #star wars #mira wren bridger #ezra bridger #sabine wren #rey #force awakens

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pomrania · 8 years ago

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Important Matters I

((Part of the Little by Little AU. Continued here))

Once back on the ship, Hera went straight to the lounge while Sabine brought her pack to her own quarters, and Zeb presumably did the same. She was apprehensive, and anxious to find out what it was and get it over with, but very few situations were made better by carrying unnecessary baggage. She forced her worries to the back of her mind and put everything back where it belonged. Depending on how bad it was, she might not be able to, afterwards.

"We're here," she heard Zeb say as she entered the room where they were meeting. "Care to tell us what the big surprise is?"

Everyone was there. Good. Surely they would have been told if someone had died, and Hera would have been a lot more visibly upset, but still.

"So," she said with forced cheer, "who's dying?" There was no way it could be that bad. Right?

"Nobody," Kanan answered, "not to the best of my knowledge." She relaxed, slightly. Whatever it was, they could probably deal with it.... "Unless someone else is hiding something."

Hera was waiting for them when Zeb and Sabine arrived. She nodded at them. "I'm glad to see you both back safely," she said. "I trust your mission went well?"

Sabine felt the corner of her mouth twitch. "It was... interesting," she settled on. "We already reported to Sato on the way here, but I can share the highlights if you want."

"Highlights," Zeb repeated. "You blew up a tree while I was still in it!"

"I already said I'm sorry, I didn't know you were there; besides, you weren't hurt, and it got the alligator-wolves out of the way."

"I thought we were calling them wolfigators?"

"I'm sure this will be a fascinating story," Hera said, "and I look forward to hearing it, but later. There's a family meeting scheduled for as soon as you two were back, in the lounge, and it's important."

"What's it about?" Sabine carelessly asked, as they started towards the Ghost.

"You'll find out there."

"Not even a hint?" Sabine remembered meeting to hear that they were low on supplies, to plan out future missions or surprise parties, or when the "meeting" had turned out to be a surprise party. She was expecting a smile, or a frown, or a whispered explanation.

She was not expecting the complete lack of expression on Hera's face, and in her voice.

"You'll find out at the meeting. Come along."

Zeb stopped walking and crossed his arms. "No," he said. "I'm not going any farther, not until you tell us what's wrong. This isn't like you. Are you under duress or something?"

Hera turned, blinked, and her mouth partially opened in surprise. Obviously that was not the case. She recovered, and gave a quick smile. "No, that isn't something you have to worry about here," she said, and subtly twitched her lekku in the all-clear signal they had established.

"Then why can't you tell us?"

She closed her eyes, and when she opened them, her face was back to a studied neutral expression. "It really isn't my place to talk about it. You'll understand later."

Sabine and Zeb exchanged glances. There was no chance it could be anything pleasant, even if it wasn't dangerous. Neither of them voiced their worries, but she could see the direction of his thoughts in how his ears twitched, and hers had to be just as apparent to him.

They followed her. There was nothing else to do, not at the moment.

"We're here," she heard Zeb say as she entered the room where they were meeting. "Care to tell us what the big surprise is?"

Everyone was there. Good. Surely they would have been told if someone had died, and Hera would have been a lot more visibly upset, but still.

"So," she said with forced cheer, "who's dying?" There was no way it could be that bad. Right?

"Nobody," Kanan answered, "not to the best of my knowledge." She relaxed, slightly. Whatever it was, they could probably deal with it.... "Unless someone else is hiding something."

Zeb looked at her. She looked at him, then looked around. Hera was very steadily keeping her gaze on the two of them, and very definitely not looking at anything else. Kanan, well, he couldn't really look at anyone, but she saw that his hand was on Ezra's shoulder. Ezra was quite intently studying his fingernails. Despite wearing gloves.

She honed in on him. "Ezra. What is it?"

He glanced up at her, then quickly looked back down.

"What's wrong?"

Kanan leaned in closer to him. "It's okay," he murmured.

Ezra suddenly gave a wide grin. "How did your mission go?" he brightly asked.

"It went well, but that's not the issue here," Zeb growled; he was worried, not angry.

"Things have been okay here... nothing much really happened, just the usual, Chopper being a pain as always, Hera getting on my case about cleaning the ship...."

Hera made a strangled noise of protest, facepalmed, and sighed.

That was when Sabine noticed what she didn't hear: Chopper. The droid was being unusually silent. She glanced over -- yes, he was there, and not powered down. Normally he would have been chattering, especially after such a slight against him, but he was quiet. Subdued. Almost like when....

Zeb had caught onto that as well, and his ears dropped. "It's bad, isn't it," he said.

Ezra looked away. "It's... it's not that bad," he said, and tried to force a smile. "Hey, did I ever tell you guys the one about the stormtrooper, the TIE pilot, and the farmer? So they walk into a bar, and --"

"Yes, you have. Five times," Sabine forcefully stated; and all of those times had been when he was trying to avoid talking about something, which was blatantly obvious.

He pulled at his collar. "I can't keep this a secret from you guys." He laughed, but it sounded fake. "I literally can't, because you'd notice sooner or later."

They waited.

He put his hands behind his back, stared at the ceiling, and began to tunelessly hum.

"Do you want me to tell them," Hera quietly asked, but Kanan raised a hand in her direction and shook his head.

"Tell us what?" Zeb demanded.

Ezra shifted, and it seemed like he was clenching and unclenching his fists. He looked... lost, or afraid, and that didn't belong on him, not like that.

"I'm... it's like...."

Sabine felt pure dread rise up in her chest. Whatever it is, don't say it. She thought that she would rather forever exist in that moment of anticipatory agony, than know. As things stood, it could be anything. There was even a small chance that it wasn't really anything bad....

"My vision's been getting worse for about a year. I'm going blind." He weakly smiled. "Sorry I didn't tell you earlier."

What.

What. No.

That didn't make sense. It couldn't be.

"What happened?" she distantly heard herself ask. "Is it from an injury?" If it was, she would find the person responsible, find them and kill them and tear out their eyes and present it to him on a silver platter....

"No, it's genetic. Sacul Syndrome. My aunt had it. Normally it first starts in your late forties, I'm just unlucky enough to have the early-onset variety."

Nobody to avenge herself upon, nobody to blame, only his parents for passing on the genes, and they were guiltless and dead besides.

"Are you sure about this? No mistake?"

Kanan spoke up. "I was there for the tests. I heard the formal diagnosis," he paused, "and the prognosis. The medical droid was quite certain."

"They're not infallible. Do you trust it?"

"Yes. Enno-fifteen is the same droid who treated me, after Malachor."

Sabine remembered "after Malachor". She remembered Kanan -- no. Ezra couldn't be forced to go through that as well. It wasn't fair. (Life wasn't fair, she knew, but that didn't stop her from wishing otherwise.)

"How --" how advanced is it, how much time do you have left, how did you not say anything, but the words caught in her throat.

"I understand that there will be questions," Hera said calmly, too calmly. "I have prepared an overview, along with answers to some of the questions we anticipated. If you would care to look at this...."

"You seem to have everything under control," Ezra said with a slight laugh, "so if that's it, I guess I'll... just...." He slipped past them, and was out of the room before Sabine could think to say anything.

She looked at the datapad she'd been given. The letters refused to resolve themselves into words, and seemed to lose all meaning under her gaze. She peered closer, and the lines blurred into an indistinct haze, as did everything else. Was she -- crying?

She sank into a chair, and wiped angrily at her eyes. She had no reason to cry, she was perfectly fine, it wasn't like she was the one losing her... going....

She pushed away the datapad, and it fell unheeded to the floor. "I can't do this," she muttered. "I can't read, I can't focus, I c-ca--" She burst out in tears. She couldn't control it.

Somebody asked if she was okay, and she couldn't even tell who it was despite knowing all the other people there. She wasn't okay, she wasn't in the same galaxy let alone same planet as "okay", but she wasn't the one they should be worrying about, she shouldn't be causing any extra problems....

"I shouldn't be crying," she babbled, "not when everyone else is handling it so well, and you two had known earlier but Zeb just found out now and he's calm and --" She buried her face in her hands. "I'm sorry," she managed.

"What makes you think I'm calm?" Zeb asked.

"You've been reading --"

"I've been turning pages," he corrected, "but I haven't looked at any of the text. You're young still, and you're in a safe environment. You don't need to keep silent, and you don't need to hide your grief."

"I should be the one to apologize," Hera said. Sabine looked up at her. "I shouldn't have dumped all that information on you like that, and expected you to be able to read it so soon. Take those with you, and look through them when you feel up to it."

Zeb took another glance at his datapad, then put it away. "Can you just tell us the most important stuff we need to know?"

Hera spoke in a measured tone. "Currently, Ezra's main problems are difficulty seeing in low light and a reduced field of vision." Zeb's ears tensed and lowered, and Sabine remembered him complaining about Ezra keeping the light on at night. "There are also issues with fine detail such as small text, and distant objects, but those are easily compensated for.

"At the moment, accommodation is... mostly...." She trailed off. Kanan put an arm around her shoulder, and she leaned into him. Light glistened off her cheek.

"Accommodation is mostly limited to making sure there is sufficient illumination, and that any text is large enough," he continued, as if they had practiced it. Maybe they had. "I'll be working with him, on other matters, for the future."

Sabine didn't want to be helpless and powerless; not in this, not in anything. "Can anything be done to help?"

"Help, yes. Be there for him, try not to leave things in the way, don't grab his arm without asking.... But as for preventing further vision loss, or restoring what he's already lost, no."

"...how long?" Zeb said. "How long does he have?"

"He's not dying," Hera immediately corrected, but she knew what was meant. They all did.

"Enno-fifteen didn't give a definite timescale," Kanan said. "There are too many variables to predict the course of any disorder with both accuracy and precision, he told us." His hand reached for Hera's. "He was however confident that total vision loss would happen within five years, following significant and then severe impairment.”

"And 'total' here means...?"

Kanan vaguely waved his free hand in front of his face. "Nothing."

Five years wasn't enough time. And Sabine wasn't exactly sure how "significant" or "severe" impairment were defined, but they couldn't be good.

She felt numb, like all the blood had drained out of her. The skin under her eyes was sore and irritated. "Is that it then for now?"

Chopper beeped a negative. Wait, hadn't he been over there? She hadn't noticed him moving, and turned to look.

He was at the door. Apparently he had left the room and just then come back. He carried with him a stack of mugs, a thermos, and a box filled with what looked like flavour packets.

He came over, and waved at her to take something to drink. She poured herself a mug of what certainly appeared to be hot water, and selected a flavour packet. She didn’t normally pick “hot chocolate”, but at the moment that comfort was what she wanted.

She didn’t bother to sniff the packet before tearing it open and mixing the powder with the water. "If this is capsaicin powder again I'm going to disassemble you," she said, but the threat had no energy behind it. Chopper gave a halfhearted intended-to-be-mocking chuckle.

The droid moved on. Zeb took three different packets to stir in. She didn’t know how he could even drink that concoction; she had tried it once, and couldn’t taste anything else for the rest of the day. Sometimes she wondered if it was a "Lasat" thing or a "Zeb" thing. Maybe his species had a different tongue configuration, or maybe he was just weird. Zeb's tastes were an easy and safe subject to speculate on.

Hera quietly told Kanan what flavours there were; he made his choice, and she handed it to him. Just a small thing, but it was impossible for him to do by himself, no matter how good he was with the Force.

Sabine imagined Ezra asking what flavour a packet was, because he couldn’t see. If she thought about it, she didn’t have to imagine. She remembered the last time they’d had this, and how he had asked her to pick out one for him. The writing on the packets was small. He hadn’t been able to read it.

She slowly sipped at the beverage. Holding it gave her hands something to do, and an excuse for none of them to talk. She didn’t want to talk. She wanted it to be a dream and wake up in a better world, where nobody was going blind and Chopper didn’t have to be helpful. While she was at it, she might as well wish for the Empire to spontaneously collapse with nobody else having to die, and ration bars to taste good; that was roughly as likely, and if she was going to engage in fantasy she might as well dream big.

The hot chocolate was lukewarm, and mostly finished. She didn't remember drinking it. Some of the powder had settled to the bottom, creating abstract patterns of dark and pale. She remembered hearing of telling one's fortune by the arrangement of tea leaves left afterwards. Those weren't leaves, but she could see the future anyways: Ezra turning his head at the sound of her voice, and his eyes never focusing on her, maybe only half-open because it didn't matter to him. Or maybe it was her imagination. It didn't matter the source, if it was still going to happen.

She drained the rest of the beverage, and left her mug on the table when she got up. It didn't matter. Nothing that she could do really mattered there.

#little by little #star wars rebels #fandom: star wars #original content #not a reblog #writing #sabine wren #garazeb orrelios #ezra bridger #hera syndulla #kanan jarrus #chopper

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