From an ember came a spark. From that spark came a flame. And from that flame came unquenchable fire, burning across the galaxy.
Hope is ablaze, and dissidence is springing up everywhere from Core to the Outer Rim. But there are those who would seek...
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*THERE IS SOME MATURE LANGUAGE AND REFERENCES IN THIS CHAPTER. CONSIDER YOURSELVES WARNED.*
Hera was at her wits' end trying to get the Ghost shipshape again. Obstacle after obstacle was being placed in her path with every bit of progress she made – when she tried to bypass computer control of the engine reactor core, she accidentally activated the emergency failsafe. She only got past it two hours later.
In the words of the mostly trustworthy Cathar mechanic Teri had called in a favor from to help her with the repairs: "I don't know how to put this any other way, Captain Syndulla, but... Honestly, your droid really kriffed shit up."
She had no more room left in her brain to worry about the whole situation with Inquisitor Sorena... about whom Kanan had been whining incessantly for the last hour. She had listened to him as patiently as ever, but even so, that patience was beginning to wear thin.
"I really don't think we should trust Teri so easily like this," Kanan said for what had to be the seventh time in the last half-hour, crossing his arms irately.
She extended a hand toward him and the toolbox next to him from where she was in a crawlspace amongst the pipes and wires, but didn't acknowledge what he said. "Plasma welder."
Kanan passed her the tool, but, much to her dismay, as soon as she started working again, he resumed his monologue with renewed vigor. "He's hiding things from us, and I don't like it at–"
"Can you please stop your bitching?" Hera snapped, finally reaching her limit. "I'm trying to get a job done here, and you're not helping."
Kanan stared at her, his mouth agape, and Hera covered her mouth when she realized she had spoken aloud.
"I'm sorry. That was inexcusable." She sighed. "It's just... It's taxing on someone to have to listen to your views on the situation nonstop when you've already made them clear. I'm really sorry, Kanan."
"Yeah. I guess." Kanan covered his surprise with a nonchalant roll of his eyes. "And where'd you learn language?"
Hera just shot him a look. After a moment, he dropped his gaze, and she grabbed a wrench from the small pile of other tools she had yet to return to the toolbox, putting it to work to remove the screws keeping a small panel in place.
"Okay, fine. Don't tell me." Kanan took a few steps closer until he was next to her, folding his legs under him. "I just don't think he's–"
She held up a finger to silence him, shushing him for good measure when he opened his mouth again. "No more of that."
It was quiet for a moment, but then, Kanan spoke up again, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Nice weather we're having today."
"Kanan–"
"I don't understand what you want from me," he said with an exasperated sigh, dropping the front and returning to his usual self.
Hera exhaled softly. She pulled herself up out of the crawlspace, dropping her tools and sitting down beside him. Then, she took his face in her hands and kissed him square on the mouth. After a moment of surprise, he kissed her back, cupping her face in his hands.
